A Gentleman's Daughter: Her Choice (17 page)

The morning of Mr. Thornhill’s arrival, Cecilia tried to forget her worries of the night before by enjoying some girlish pursuits with Felicity. After breakfast, the other women retired to the drawing room, as it promised to be a muggy day, while Wil went out riding with Mr. Wilcox. So, Cecilia and Felicity visited the horses, played with the dogs, and sat talking and making daisy chains on the lawn. Felicity reminded her cousin of how they used to roll down the hill as girls and what fun it had been. Rising up, she dared Cecilia to roll down it now.

“No, Felicity. If my mother found out, she would come undone.”

“When has that stopped you?” Felicity goaded. “I dare you to race me. Unless you do not wish to, knowing I will win,” she finished with a teasing smile.

Cecilia laughed, stopping at hearing an approaching horse. “Who could that be?”

“Probably just Wil and your papa. They were out riding, remember?”

“Oh, yes, and it cannot be Mr. Thornhill or the Hookhams. They should not arrive until this afternoon in their carriages. Hurry up, then, if you still want to race,” Cecilia said with a challenge. The two quickly lay on the grass at the top of the slope, Felicity shouting “go” and down they tumbled, both shrieking in delight as they reached the bottom. Felicity jumped up, as she had won, and held out her hand to Cecilia, who sat up, dizzy. Both had grass in their disarrayed hair and faint green streaks on their pale dresses; they were thus startled by a deep voice.

“Miss Wilcox?”

Taking her cousin’s hand, Cecilia rose slowly to face Mr. Thornhill, who stood staring down at them from the middle of the hill. At that moment, Jane came out of the house, waving to them. Seeing their looks toward the house, Mr. Thornhill turned. Following Jane was a young woman, fair and willowy, graceful and poised, much like a fine spring lily. The two women approached Mr. Thornhill from the house, while Felicity nearly dragged Cecilia to him. He smiled at the stranger; Cecilia’s stomach fell.

“Lilias! What a pleasure to see you here. I knew you would be at your cousin’s next week, but had not anticipated finding you at Middleton House,” Mr. Thornhill said with a smile after Jane introduced Miss Lilias Jenner to them.

“Sir, I am pleased to meet you again. I have missed Whitchurch and all my friends there. I am staying with my cousins, the Fordhams. Mrs. Fordham and I walked over for a call. I had heard we would meet at dinner. The Hookhams will be joining the party as well?”

“Yes, I rode ahead.” Mr. Thornhill continued to smile at Miss Jenner.

“We are pleased to meet you, Miss Jenner,” Felicity cut in, sounding irritated. She then introduced herself and her sister to Mr. Thornhill, who responded with cool politeness.

“We are happy to meet you, sir,” Jane said, glancing at Cecilia, who had gone pale; it was rude of Felicity to introduce herself. “You two girls had best go change before our mothers see you.”

Cecilia, though she knew Jane meant to be kind, was appalled, not only by Jane’s admonishment and Mr. Thornhill witnessing her girlish behavior, but also by his obvious attention to and intimacy with Miss Jenner. She quailed further at the thought of his meeting Mrs. Carter. Felicity grabbed her hand again and led her away, begging pardon as they walked up to the door.

Hurrying upstairs, Felicity whispered, “Miss Jenner, humph. They are quite a pair. I cannot think well of your Mr. Thornhill, ignoring you so rudely.”

“Oh, do be quiet,” Cecilia said, close to tears. His smiles had been for Miss Jenner and not her.

“Do not take out your upset on me. If he would be so, it is better to find out before you become engaged.” Squeezing Cecilia’s hand as they reached her room, Felicity said: “Perhaps it will all turn out. He may only have been surprised.”

“You do not believe that, but thank you for trying to help. You are more like Jane than you will admit,” Cecilia said, returning her cousin’s gesture.

“Do not tell anyone,” Felicity whispered before going into one of the guest rooms on the other side of the U shaped floor, where she and Jane had left some clothes.

Cecilia went into her room and rang for the maid. Thankfully, not her mother’s maid, but the undermaid appeared; though even she remarked on Cecilia’s appearance, at least she probably would not tattle to Mrs. Wilcox. Cecilia, vexed with herself for dirtying one of her best morning dresses, was more so at Mr. Thornhill. She had missed him dreadfully, they had not seen each other for a month entire, yet he did not even greet her, favoring instead Miss Jenner. There was nothing to be done about it now, so she went down to luncheon with Felicity, who again tried to cheer her by telling jokes she had heard on her travels.

The two were just in time to join the others in the dining room, where Mrs. Wilcox placed her by Mr. Thornhill. However, he was occupied casting glances at Mrs. Carter and participating in the general conversation or speaking to Jane, who was on his other side. Not that Cecilia tried to command his attention, for she had again begun that awful course of doubt and disappointment which had beset her after leaving for London. This, however, was far worse, for her feelings for Mr. Thornhill were much more intense than those she had for Mr. Cateret. It was all she could do to keep herself composed. Finally, Mr. Thornhill spoke to her, which only caused her to feel more annoyed.

“May we not speak privately?” he asked in a whisper.

“I cannot. Why do you not join the other gentlemen for their walk?” she replied in a hushed, short tone.

“As you wish.” Mr. Thornhill rose from the table and bowed. Though her father invited her to join them, Cecilia declined, claiming she wished to rest.

As the other women walked toward the drawing room, Cecilia turned to go upstairs, but her mother pulled her aside, waiting until her cousins and aunt were out of sight before speaking.

“What are you about? You did not even attempt to speak to Mr. Thornhill, foolish girl. I know you must have done something, though how in such a short time I do not know. He was very attentive to Miss Jenner while you were upstairs. Take care or you will lose another suitor.”

“I thought you enjoyed husband hunting, Mama. I should not wish to stand in the way of your pleasure.”

“Impertinent girl. Go to your room so I may be spared your company. Enjoy your rest, may it bring you to your senses. I expect to see you at dinner and try to look your best. If you cannot act a proper young lady you may at least appear so.”

Cecilia merely smiled and curtseyed as her mother waved her away. Going upstairs, heaviness spread through her limbs; by the time she reached her room, she was in tears as well and took to her bed, crying until sleep claimed her.

Some hours later, Cecilia awoke with a start. Going to her dressing table mirror, she saw she looked a fright. She went about setting herself to rights, not wanting even the maid to see her in such a state. Having read a little to calm her mind as well, she was about to ring for the maid to help her dress for dinner when her mother, after a perfunctory knock, entered. Admonishing Cecilia for resting so long and still looking a mess, she then further scolded her for her earlier romp with Felicity, which she had learned of.

“You two and your hoydenish ways. It is no wonder Mr. Thornhill looks at Miss Jenner if that is how you behave. Now, get up and I want you to wear your pink, no, no, your green gown. And tell Tilly to take extra care with your hair, have her put the little pink ribbon roses you made in amongst your ringlets. Rouse yourself, girl, we will not be defeated.” At this command, Cecilia smiled to herself. Her mother could never resist a challenge, or stand being bested.

As the maid put the finishing touches on her hair, a knock made Cecilia start. However, it was only Felicity, who gave an arch look to Cecilia, causing her to promptly dismiss Tilly. Once alone, Cecilia asked how Felicity’s afternoon had been, telling her cousin of what her mother had said.

“For once, I agree with my aunt Wilcox. If you want Mr. Thornhill, then get him, or your mother will make other plans. I have been eavesdropping, you see, quite unintentionally, of course.” Felicity winked as she made herself comfortable on Cecilia’s bed.

“You did? How horrid you are.” Cecilia laughed.

“Do you want me to tell you, or not?”

“I see that you will, though I thought you did not tell tales.”

“Only when they need to be told. The Hookhams arrived while you were resting. Your mother and Mrs. Hookham are two of a kind. I do not know what to make of Miss Hookham yet, nor the two men. They two joined the others walking. Your mother and Mrs. Hookham spoke at some length as I closed my eyes on the sofa. I understand Miss Jenner used to be much with the Thornhills. It seems Mr. Thornhill’s younger brother made this Miss Jenner an offer some year ago and she refused him. Rumor in the neighborhood was she preferred his elder brother.”

“What has that to do with Mr. Thornhill? If he cared for her, he would already have proposed to her.”

“Not necessarily, according to Mrs. Hookham. Miss Jenner had to leave to join her mother in the North and has only recently returned. Though she is of an age with your brother, she is, as you saw, still quite beautiful and lives up to the bloom of her name. They seem ready to give up your Mr. Thornhill to her, however, for young Mr. Hookham needs a wife as well. I would pity you that. You do not need two such mothers.”

Felicity’s words only served to heighten Cecilia’s anxieties and doubts about herself and Mr. Thornhill, rather than strengthening her resolve, as her cousin probably intended, or making her wish to be pleasing, as her mother would want. Instead, she began to feel contrary, much as she had when she assumed Mr. Thornhill preferred his cousin to herself. Cecilia did not just then remember that but instead let suspicion and doubt steal over her like a shadow drifting over a hillside when clouds begin to obscure the sun.

“I begin to feel I shall never marry. Perhaps Jane and I may work with Polly at the school and be two maiden teachers together.”

“I fear your plan may have a problem already. Mr. Holden has been paying much attention to our Jane of late. You shall see. As to Mr. Thornhill, I happened upon him before coming up here and he apologized for startling us earlier, for which I thanked him but added it was you he should be speaking to, as I was not bothered, but you were.”

“You did not say so, surely!”

“In so many words, yes.”

“I suppose he is angry now.” Cecilia bit her lip.

“No, he is full of surprises, your Mr. Thornhill. He seemed affronted at first but then smiled and thanked me for my care of you and told me how you had spoken so fondly of Jane and me,” Felicity said with a mischievous grin.

Cecilia sighed then laughed. “I am fond of you, though you are a terrible, teasing girl.”

“And you are a provoking, silly one, cousin,” Felicity rejoindered.

“So I have been told. Now let us go down to dinner before my mother feels it necessary to fetch us.”

Chapter Sixteen

T
hey joined the others in the drawing room for the short interlude before dinner. Mr. Hookham, Mrs. Hookham, young Mr. Hookham, and his sister, all dark and almost dour, gave a subdued attention to the party, while the Fordhams were very animated, as usual. Mrs. Hookham and Mrs. Wilcox soon exchanged whispered confidences while Mr. Hookham and his daughter claimed the attention of their host. Mr. Tom Hookham, after a long glance at Cecilia, made himself agreeable. He was dark like Mr. Mainmount and Mr. Cateret, but not nearly as handsome, for he had not that elegance of person or features those two men possessed. Still, Mr. Hookham was a hearty fellow, both in person and address, which Cecilia found refreshing after the often stilted and false manners she found in some London gentlemen.

He soon had her talking of horses and hunting, which Cecilia was proud she could speak of with confidence, due to her father’s and brother’s tutelage. As the two laughed about Mr. Hookham’s telling of a youthful hunt with the Thornhill brothers, of whom he had been closest to Gregory, Cecilia noticed both he and Mr. Thornhill glancing again at the lovely Miss Jenner, when they were not appraising Mrs. Carter. Much like the two men, the two women were day and night: Miss Jenner’s blue gown made her light azure eyes dazzle as one is by the sky on a cloudless, clear day while Mrs. Carter’s deep sapphire dress and raven hair enchanted, a dark, luminous, starry night. Cecilia picked at the folds of her own green gown, dull as drying grass. At a pause in her conversation, Cecilia overheard Mr. Thornhill tell Miss Jenner how good it was to see her again, how they had missed her in the neighborhood, and how she had not changed in this year past, but had indeed grown more lovely. Cecilia, at this last remark, swallowed back the bitter taste which had been forming and turned a bright smile on Mr. Hookham.

“I understand Mr. Thornhill is fine friends with the Jenners. You all played together as children, did you not?”

“Yes, but Miss Jenner, though she is of an age with myself, never paid Gregory and I much attention, and Peter was off to sea when he was but a lad of fifteen. I suppose our high spirits displeased her. She had more appreciation for the more sober character of Mr. Thornhill.”

“Do you find him sober? I would not describe him as such, but then our acquaintance is not long.” Cecilia continued to finger her gown.

“Not in all ways, no, for he has a fierce temper and does not like to be gainsaid. Yet he is a moderate, mostly calm fellow, and certainly not flashy, as some gentlemen I have seen.” Mr. Hookham no longer glanced around, but kept his deep, hooded eyes on Cecilia.

“Yes, I saw many of that type while I was in London lately. Mr. Thornhill is no dandy, to be sure,” Cecilia said. The two continued their conversation. His rapt attention made Cecilia lightheaded. She could command the undistracted attention of a gentleman.

Mr. Hookham, unlike Mr. Thornhill, gazed only at her as they proceeded into the dining room. When she glanced at Mr. Thornhill as they were seated, her stomach fell at being met with his impenetrable expression. At least he was as far away from Miss Jenner as possible and her father and Mr. Holden, whom that lady sat between, did an admirable job keeping her attention. Still, Cecilia and Mr. Thornhill did not speak much, only a few polite words; he seemed much occupied conversing with Jane about her travels or participating in the general conversation, as their party was a somewhat small one. Since young Mr. Hookham sat on her other side, she conversed again with him. She could, she saw as dinner ended, make herself pleasing to Mr. Hookham, who studied her with undisguised admiration. Perhaps that would wrest Mr. Thornhill’s attention away from the lovely Miss Jenner.

Soon after, the ladies ambled to the drawing room. Cecilia snugged into her favorite chair near the windows and watched the others as they talked. Mrs. Carter and Miss Jenner made an odd pairing, but Mrs. Carter seemed to draw Miss Jenner out, using her charm and easy smile. Mrs. Wilcox’s voice boomed out over all others as she described the plans for their dance the next evening. Felicity plopped herself on the sofa next to Cecilia’s chair and leaned on the armrest.

“Will you not play us a tune to silence your mater?” Felicity said.

“I am not inclined to.” Cecilia tapped her fingers on the armrest.

“Not in a musical mood? I suppose you are still in a dither about your Mr. Thornhill.”

Cecilia’s cheeks stung. Hopping up, she strode to the pianoforte and played a rousing rondeau. She would show Felicity she was in command of the situation and her feelings.

After several pieces, Mrs. Wilcox bade her stop before the gentlemen returned. Cecilia joined Miss Hookham on the settee closest to the instrument, where she had been sitting alone.

“You are an accomplished player,” Miss Hookham said.

“Thank you. Do you enjoy music?”

“Listening to it, yes. My interests lie elsewhere, however. I am a garden enthusiast. I quite look forward to touring Partridge Place.” Miss Hookham’s dark, waspish expression concealed her friendly demeanor. Cecilia smiled, relieved.

“Yes, their gardens are unusual.”

“Mrs. Partridge has agreed to show me herself. We have all found much to interest us here. I was glad to see my brother conversing with you this evening, Miss Wilcox. He often ignores proper young ladies, probably to vex our mama. He must be quite impressed with you to forgo his usual indifference,” Miss Hookham finished in a confidential tone.

“Thank you, Miss Hookham. Your brother has been most agreeable and I am pleased to know him.” There was no lie there, yet Cecilia shifted her position.

Thence the gentlemen returned; Mr. Thornhill and Mr. Hookham approached Cecilia. She decided to bestow her favor on Mr. Hookham, since he had been so attentive to her this evening, though emptiness pitted her when her coolness to Mr. Thornhill succeeded in driving him back into the company of Miss Jenner. Cecilia, who, from her experiences with Mr. Cateret and Mr. Mainmount, could now flirt with some ease, turned her charms on Mr. Hookham, who played along quite well. So well, in fact, Mr. Thornhill turned some disdainful looks on them; puzzled brows from her father and Jane coupled with the approving glances of her mother and Mrs. Hookham completed Cecilia’s dismay.

Yet she continued her flirt with Mr. Hookham, for even in all her discomfort, she felt a sense of confidence in her new ability to make a man enamored or jealous with a few turns of phrase or a pretty glance or two. Cecilia thought perhaps she might be upsetting Mr. Thornhill but petulantly told herself he deserved it for his concerted attentions to Miss Jenner. She frowned a little, thinking perhaps he really did prefer Miss Jenner but had got tired of waiting for her return and so had turned his attention elsewhere. Certainly Miss Jenner seemed a more proper choice for Mr. Thornhill. Not only did their fair looks complement one another, but they also apparently had similar temperaments and poise. Cecilia sighed at this thought; her expression was wholly misinterpreted by Mr. Hookham, who had been taking his leave of her. Cecilia saw he believed her to be disappointed he went to speak with someone else, which she was in a way, but not as he assumed.

Though Jane had not said so directly, her worried frowns directed at Cecilia told more than words: she disapproved of her flirt with Mr. Hookham. Cecilia was sorry to have concerned Jane, especially when she saw the truth of Felicity’s earlier assertion; Mr. Holden did indeed pay much attention to Jane. It also became clear to Cecilia that whatever her mother or Mrs. Hookham believed about Mr. Thornhill and Miss Jenner, no one else saw anything amiss in his behavior, or Miss Jenner’s. Instead, Cecilia felt the silent censure of all her family, save Felicity and her mother, which only reinforced Cecilia’s surety it was she herself who had been in the wrong.

As they all said farewell to the Fordhams, Miss Jenner, Mr. Holden, and her uncle’s family, Cecilia became increasingly distressed. She must speak to Mr. Thornhill, yet what could she do but ask his forgiveness again? The last time she had, he had questioned his ability to do so and still had not verbally given any indication he had forgiven her. Cecilia was relieved when, as she stood looking out at the dark, clear sky, Mr. Thornhill approached her. Though they were well away from the others, he spoke in a low tone.

“Miss Wilcox, I believe we ought to speak before we retire.” Cecilia turned to him and nodded. “I did wish to speak to you alone, but your father requested we remain here. You are very beautiful this evening.”

“In contrast to this morning, I suppose?”

“Actually, you were quite fetching then, too, in your disarray, though I would rather see you so without grass strewn in your hair and when we are alone,” he said, his voice deep, while a roguish smile briefly appeared, disappearing as Cecilia flushed and looked away. “I am sorry for my behavior then, not even greeting you. Will you forgive me?”

“Yes, though I feel I too must ask forgiveness for my behavior this evening.”

“Thank you. May I ask why you were so cool to me and why you persist in flirting with rakish gentlemen, though you must know how it affects me?” He stood, hands clasped behind him, only his hushed yet fiery words led her to understand his deep displeasure.

“Rakish gentlemen? Do you refer to Mr. Hookham, sir? He does not strike me as the type.”

“I suppose you are quite familiar by now with that type. I assure you I know him well enough. Perhaps he does not meet with your standards of a rake, but he is in his way.”

“I cannot help it if certain gentlemen pay me attention.” She shrugged slightly and waved her hand, as in dismissal of his words. Why did he not react? She would rather he grabbed her and shook sense into her rather than be so cool toward her, never giving her the slightest touch.

“Can you not? If you believe he was either unencouraged or merely taken with your charms, you are mistaken.”

“Perhaps I did encourage him a little, but I felt you gave me cause,” she said. Her eyes burned with anger and unshed tears.

“I was only enjoying the company of my friend, whom I have not seen in some time. That does not give you cause to flirt with someone you know to have been my childhood friend, someone who, by the way, enjoys besting me at any opportunity.” Now his words were laced with derision, as if she was merely a foolish child.

“If such were the case, I wonder he did not single out Miss Jenner rather than myself.”

“He knows she has more sense than to give him any notice.”

“Yes, she is full of sense, poise, grace, and beauty, is Miss Jenner. She would make any man a fine wife, do you not think so?” Her muslin gown stifled her, her gloves itched to be removed, something to cool the burning spreading over her.

“Yes, she would. If you mean to imply I would marry her, however, you are again mistaken. Had I wished to marry Miss Jenner, do you not think I would have done so by now?” Still he stared at the darkened window, his reflection cold and hazy.

“She has been gone this year past.”

“A year during which I was quite free to visit her in the North if I wished, or make my intentions known through her cousins, yet I did not,” Mr. Thornhill said, finally turning toward her. “I believe your father is correct, Miss Wilcox. You are full young.”

“I may be, but that did not stop you from proposing to me,” Cecilia replied. Her composure teetered, as if she balanced on the edge of the bridge in town. “I suppose now you see the mistake you have made you wish me to forget you ever offered for me?”

“Do you wish me to? Perhaps you would like to be free? You do not lack for suitors, to be sure, and I understand Mr. Cateret will arrive shortly.”

“I cannot help that, any more than I can my feelings for him.”

“And what would they be, exactly? I suppose for you, who has the surety of my devotion, it is nothing I have spent the last month in doubt.” His words had become progressively calmer, while she grew frantic.

“I am sorry. My father would not let me stop to speak to you before we left Lionel Hall. I have already told you I shall always care for him, but it is you I wish to marry. However, if you think I have not had doubts about your devotion to me, you are not so astute as I believed.”

“I have given no cause for such uncertainty, unlike yourself.”

“Do not blame me when a man of your experience cannot see the truth. Mr. Cateret has never doubted my veracity.”

“Why must you so provoke me?” he said through his clenched jaw. About to continue, he stopped on the approach of Mr. Wilcox.

“Is something amiss, Mr. Thornhill?” Mr. Wilcox inquired, standing close by his daughter.

“I am fatigued, sir. If you will excuse me, I bid you goodnight,” Mr. Thornhill finished as he bowed and strode across the room, exiting with the Hookhams. Cecilia, hot tears in her eyes, stared at the blue silk curtains, behind which was the darkening night. She wished to be out in it, to run over the hill, perhaps to Partridge Place or into the wood where she might mingle her tears with the running water of the little stream. Sighing, she composed herself, though her mind reeled with their cross exchange, until she stopped, remembering Felicity’s words to her earlier. Cecilia laughed at herself.

“I am a provoking, silly girl,” she said, for she realized she had let her temper rule her, instead of acknowledging the truth of Mr. Thornhill’s words. She truly believed he was like her father and brother, a man incapable of using a woman ill.