Holiday in Bath (8 page)

As though summoned by her words, there was a rap at the door and Cranford, impeccably dressed in riding clothes, was shown in. “My father has offered us the use of his traveling carriage, so I hope you have not been too sparing in your luggage,” he told Mrs. Storwood before he shook hands with her husband and offered a curt nod to Filkins, who had moved back from the group. With a practiced eye he took in Trelenny’s carriage dress of green Merino and her cloak of a deeper green
gros de Berlin
lined with chinchilla. “Very sensible, Trelenny. We are likely to encounter some chill weather as we travel.”

“That’s why I wore it,” she assured him pertly. “It had nothing to do with the fact that it is my most handsome carriage dress, or that I had a matching muff in which to keep my reticule. I wore it because it is comfortable and warm, and I knew you would approve.” She thrust a toe forward from under her skirt. “I even wore my kid half-boots so my feet would be warm, too, and not because I love the chestnut color and they are spanking new.”

Unperturbed by her sarcasm, Cranford merely nodded and turned to her father. “I will take good care of them, sir, and you should look for our return in about a month. A message sent care of the White Hart will reach me, though I may not stay there the entire time. There are usually houses to be had in Camden Place or Queen Square, but rest assured that I will find a suitable situation for the ladies. I have sent off an inquiry to a friend of mine who will have some information for us by the time we arrive, no doubt.”

“I have every confidence in you, my boy,” Mr. Storwood said as Trelenny stood staring at Cranford. “We’ll just have their luggage put up and you may be off. Do you think you can make Preston tonight?”

Never once had it occurred to Trelenny that Cranford had been to Bath before. In her mind she had been offering him a treat, if a limited one, a chance to see some Roman antiquities, if he could find them, which were sure to be a source of interest. While the carriage was being loaded and her mother and father talked quietly to one side, she marched up to Cranford. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you have been there before! Oh, you have spoiled everything!”

“You’ve lost me, Trelenny. What difference can it possibly make that I’ve been to Bath before?” He raised an impatient eyebrow as he watched the small trunk being strapped to the roof of the carriage.

“There is no reason at all for you to go, if you’ve seen all those old stones before.”

“I didn’t have time to look out antiquities when I was there previously. Do be a good girl and get in the carriage. I want to get started before your mother sheds any tears, and the longer we stay, the more likely that is.” He watched nervously as Mrs. Storwood clung to her husband’s arm with one hand and helplessly gripped a limp handkerchief in the other.

 “Here.” Trelenny thrust the leather pouch into his hands and left him with a swish of her skirts. The footman assisted her into the carriage and she called lightly to her mother, “We are ready to go, Mama. Goodbye, Papa. We will miss you."

Cranford absently stuck the pouch in the pocket of his coat and nodded his thanks to Trelenny, who glared at him in return. Lord, wasn’t the girl ever pleased? Gently he disengaged Mrs. Storwood from her husband and handed her into the carriage, saying, “I shall ride for the first two stages, ma’am. If you need anything, have Trelenny call for me. There are warm bricks for your feet, and a carriage rug,” he instructed the maid, who was already seated across from the two ladies.

The coachman set his horses into motion at a signal from Cranford, and Mrs. Storwood waved until they were out of sight, whereupon she quietly wept into her handkerchief and Trelenny put her arm about her to comfort her. Cranford stayed to have a word with Mr. Storwood.

“Very good of you to take them with you, Cranford,” the older man said gruffly. “I’ve made a rough reckoning what the trip will cost, and their lodgings, and doodahs and such, and it’s all here in this purse. I hope you won’t mind being Mrs. Storwood’s banker, for she’s a bit rusty at this sort of thing. You have only to write for more should this be insufficient. It’s been so long since I’ve been away that I doubled what it would have been years ago, but that might not be enough. Trelenny has her own pocket money, of course, though I don’t expect her to buy any new gowns out of it—there’s hardly enough! But she’s to have what she wants, provided her mother agrees. I just don’t want her to have so much that it burns a hole in her pocket, so to speak.”

“Well, she won’t lose it, sir. She assured me once that she’s never lost so much as a tuppence,” Cranford replied with a rueful grin.

“She’s not as shatterbrained as she sometimes appears, and she’s a good-hearted girl, when all is said and done. Mind you, she’s not been anywhere before, and her mother will tell her how to go on, but I depend on you to see that she gets in no trouble. It’s a large responsibility, I know, but you aspire to her hand and it is in your own interest to see she behaves herself.” He stared for a moment at the spot where the carriage had disappeared from view and then transferred his gaze to his companion. “Not with a heavy hand, Cranford. She’s spirited and she resents being told what to do. If you explain why something is wrong, she is much more willing to listen. Will you remember that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you. I won’t keep you longer. My two most precious treasures are in your care, and I know you will justify my faith in you. God bless you, my boy.”

If Lord Chessels had once in his life addressed himself in such a way to his son, Cranford could have forgotten all the verbal and physical abuse he had suffered under that tyrant. Pushing aside his regrets, he shook hands now with Trelenny’s father as he said, “I’m honored by your trust, Mr. Storwood, and I’ll do my best to see that the ladies enjoy themselves and have no worries. Take care of yourself, sir.”

Not until Cranford had called a halt for refreshments in Burton, and he was overseeing the unharnessing of the horses and instructing that a new team be ready in an hour, did he remember the pouch that Trelenny had thrust upon him before their departure. He pulled it out now and counted fifteen guineas before replacing it in his pocket, surprised that she, too, apparently wished him to be her banker for the trip. As he entered the inn he was directed to a private parlor where he found her alone.

“Mama is just washing off some of the dust, Cranford. I have ordered a plate of meats and cheese, with some bread and tea. Will that do?”

“Certainly. One would think you have been traveling all your life,” he teased her.

“It’s not so very difficult, but Mama is a bit blue devilled, you see, and I didn't want her to have the bother.”

Cranford jingled the pouch in his pocket, smiling. “I think you are wise to have me look after your allowance, Trelenny. I’ll take care not to lose it.”

Her brows drew together in a frown and she shook her head firmly. “No, that is money to pay for our posting charges. I know how you are situated, and this trip was my idea, so I am responsible for the extra expense to you. Papa will have given you money for our lodging, of course, but he thinks you intended to go to Bath and would have had that expense yourself. At least, I suppose that is how he would view the matter. I haven’t enough to pay for your lodging in Bath, as I have to have some money for fripperies or Mama will wonder what I have done with my allowance, but I shall be able to repay you at Christmas."

One point in her whole recitation stood out in his mind above all the others. His angry eyes raked her face. “How do you know my circumstances?”

“Why, I heard Papa tell Mama years ago. Lord Chessels bragged of it, I think, but Papa was very upset and called it a dastardly thing to do. And I agree!”

“It is no concern of yours, Trelenny, and I don’t want your money, or need it, for that matter.” He set the pouch down on the table with a thump as Mrs. Storwood entered.

“Ah, Cranford. I hope you plan to ride in with us this afternoon, for your father’s carriage is admirably sprung. Didn’t you think so, Trelenny? My dear, you should not leave your money sitting about. It’s not that I don’t trust the servants (though it is a public inn and one can never be too careful), but you might forget it when we leave. Why don’t you have Cranford keep it for you? That would be safest of all, I think.”

“Yes, I will have Cranford keep it,” Trelenny said with a demure glance in his direction. “You won’t mind, will you, Cranford?”

“No.” He pocketed the pouch once again, but after he had seated her mother and come around to hold a chair for her, he murmured in her ear, “It is your money. When you want it, just ask me for it.”

Trelenny effected not to hear him but began to pour the tea, which had already arrived. “Would you prefer beer or wine, Cranford? I didn’t know, so I just ordered the tea. Oh, good, here are the meat and cheese. I don’t know how one can develop such an appetite simply sitting in a carriage all morning, but I’m famished.”

Throughout their meal she was particularly gay, cheering her mother with talk of the shops and assemblies in Bath, and teasing Cranford with made-up tales of careless Romans who mislaid their money, their baths, and most probably (she said) their wives.

When they resumed their journey Cranford had his revenge, or at least that is how Trelenny saw the matter. They sat side by side with their backs to the horses and once they were out of town he drew a book from a pocket on the wall. The pocket on the opposite side, he assured her, contained a pistol which was loaded and primed in the event of an emergency. The book, however, proved to be the more powerful weapon, as it was purported to be a book of sermons that he suggested he read to them.

Even Mrs. Storwood gazed at him with astonishment, and Trelenny gasped, “You wouldn’t!”

"No," he laughed, “I wouldn’t. Really it’s Fanny Burney’s
Evelina
.”

“That’s an antiquarian’s idea of a joke,” Trelenny murmured scornfully to her mother. “And I’ve never heard of
Evelina
, either.”

“Surely you must have,” her mother protested. “It was written the year I was born but it was still the rage when I was young. How we loved it! It’s the story of a young lady’s entrance into society.”

Trelenny eyed Cranford reproachfully. “So you are intent on schooling me, are you? A more palatable lesson than the sermons, perhaps, but a lesson all the same.”

With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Storwood said, “It’s a delightful book, my dear, and very thoughtful of Cranford to have brought it.”

“Yes, he might have brought Plutarch’s
Lives
.” But it took very little time for her to become engrossed in the story, though she told Cranford she thought Evelina a rather weak-spirited damsel and not quite so well possessed of understanding as the author seemed to imply. “I would never get in a carriage alone with the likes of Sir Clement. She might have known he would behave precisely as he did.”

Fortunately Trelenny did not intercept the amused glance which passed between Mrs. Storwood and Cranford when the latter said, “I’m sure you would never do anything so improper.” He replaced the book in its pocket. “The light is failing and we’ll be in Preston soon, where we should be able to find accommodation at the Bull and Royal.”

“We’re stopping already?” Trelenny asked with astonishment. “But Preston cannot be more than sixty miles from home. At this rate it will take us forever to get to Bath.”

“Four days,” Cranford informed her.

“Oh, no! All of our time will be spent traveling! Surely it need not take so long. We could start earlier each day and not find an inn until well into the evening. Then it would be only three days and we would have a longer stay in town.”

Cranford regarded her coldly. “I doubt your mother would appreciate our bumping along the roads for ten hours a day, Trelenny.”

In the fading light of the carriage he could just barely perceive the blush which rose to her cheeks as she lowered her eyes to her hands. “No. No, of course not. And our journey can be interesting in itself, Mama, for I have brought some guidebooks on the counties we will pass through. Tomorrow I shall get them out and read to you about Lancashire and. . . and any other counties we might reach during the day.”

Mrs. Storwood regarded her daughter fondly. “That is thoughtful of you, my dear. I think we might plan to be on the road by nine tomorrow, Cranford, and decide as we see our progress where we might stay the night.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

“There is room for you and Trelenny here, Mrs. Storwood,” Cranford informed them when he emerged from the Bull and Royal, “but I shall have to find another hostelry. The innkeeper says the Castle is likely to have space for me, as it’s not such a quality establishment as his.” He grinned at the face Trelenny made, but was not so amused by Mrs. Storwood’s look of concern. “There is nothing to worry you, ma’am. I promise you the Castle will be quite good enough for me, and you and Trelenny will be well looked after here. Shall I go ahead and make the arrangements?”

“Could we not all stay at the Castle?” Mrs. Storwood asked diffidently.

“You would not be so comfortable there as here.”

Mrs. Storwood looked helplessly to her daughter for advice, not sure that she wished to be separated from the efficient escort he provided, and though Trelenny would have relished the opportunity to manage for the two of them, she felt sure her mother would be easier in Cranford’s company. Trelenny said, “I’m sure we would do well to stay together, Cranford.”

The Castle was a modest inn with but four rooms to let, and though these were clean, the furnishings had seen better days and they had never been more than serviceable. Mrs. Storwood bore this circumstance with equanimity, though she found the staff even less palatable than her surroundings. A surly innkeeper, a saucy maid, and a lazy ostler were their introduction to the Castle, and made her regret her decision to stay there, until Cranford, by a mere tone of voice, helped the staff summon up a due deference for their clientele. But nothing would induce Mrs. Storwood to sit in the cheerless parlor after they had finished their meal, and she retired with her daughter in attendance to the room they had chosen at the rear of the first-floor hall.