What About Cecelia? (12 page)

“You were right, Mary. This is a much superior
instrument to mine. It almost sounds good when I play now.”

“It will sound better if you practice.”

“I'll try.”

“You will do more than try, you will do it. I
know you can. Mother made me practice at least an hour a day when I
was little. I hated it, but now I like playing.”

“An hour? My arms will drop off.”

“No they won't. I'll stay here and time
you.”

Early in the afternoon a farm wagon squeaked
into the yard at the Somerset's house. It carried a couple of
trunks as well as its driver. Cecelia, released from her bondage at
the piano, was looking for a book and saw the wagon from the
library window. “Oh no! It's George!”

Mary asked, “Who?”

“Captain Wood, he's come from Penyclawdd. I
can't see him. What should I do?”

A few moments later Lady Elizabeth entered and
said, “Captain Wood has come to visit, He has requested you talk
with him, Miss Wood.”

“I can't.”

“I think you should at least do him the honor of
listening to what he says. Sir Charles and I will attend you. Just
listening to him should not be difficult.”

Mary asked if she should come. “No my dear, it
is best if just your friend and us meet with him at first. Though
maybe later.”

Lady Elizabeth escorted a reluctant Miss Wood to
the room where the Captain and Sir Charles were talking. When one
footman opened the door for them to enter, she hesitated, and then
she froze in panic when he saw her. It was all she could do to keep
from bolting herself when the two men rose to greet them. Lady
Elizabeth kept a steadying hand on her shoulder and directed her to
sit on the sofa, then joined her.

Sir Charles started the conversation, “Captain
Wood has just been telling me how much he and his fiancée regret
what she said.”

“Sir, it is best if I go to my aunt's. Then you
can sell Penyclawdd without worry.”

“I promise you, I'm not going to sell
Penyclawdd. It may have only been a month, but I've grown fond of
this place.”

“But the money for Miss Arnold's
settlement?”

“I'll find it some other way. I'm not without
resources of my own.”

“You're not?”

“Did I ever tell you of my father's estate? It
too is settled on me.”

“No you didn't.”

“That estate will likely have to be sold when he
dies. It's mortgaged to the hilt. Between his gambling debts and
the way he lives, there won't be much left over after his
death.”

“Surely it can be recovered.”

“I'm sure you could run it well, and maybe I
could, but he can't. He has more servants in attendance than the
Somerset's do here, even though Sir Charles is a much more eminent
man than Sir Neville. Everything there is extravagance and waste.
If he trimmed his sails to the breeze it might recover in a few
years, but not the way he's going.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I explained it to Jane, Miss Arnold, last
night. There isn't a choice. If I'm to have an estate, a place in
the country to live and I want one, then it's best if I plan on
keeping Penyclawdd. There's an outside chance the other might be
saved, but I doubt it.”

“Captain, I still can't stay at Penyclawdd. Miss
Arnold cannot like it if I did.”

“She did use her sharp tongue last night, didn't
she?”

“Yes. I'm sure I provoked her somehow.”

“She apologizes. She was feeling poorly and her
temper got the better of her. Indeed, she joins me in begging you
to return.”

Cecelia found herself thinking, “What did you
have to offer her to achieve that?” It was Lady Elizabeth who put
her similar thoughts into words. “Captain Wood, I've known Miss
Arnold for a long time. Much longer than you have. This sharp
speaking was perfectly consistent with her character. How did you
convince her to apologize? More to the point, why should my guest
believe you that she is contrite?”

“I thought you might ask that, though I know
Miss Wood would not.” He pulled out a short note, “This is from my
fiancée. It is a note of apology. All I can add is that Miss Arnold
has always had to struggle with her temper, and occasionally she
loses the fight. We both would like to escort Miss Wood to Bath and
help her find a suitable husband.”

While Cecelia read the note, he continued, “Lady
Elizabeth, I think we both have the same goals in mind, do we
not?”

Lady Elizabeth turned to her protégé and asked,
“Cecelia, what do you think?”

“I – I don't know.” She found herself confused.
“I should like to stay friends with you, but I don't like hearing
such hurtful words, and always watching myself lest I set off my
hostess.”

Sir Charles spoke and offered a compromise
worthy of the seasoned statesman that he was. “May I make a
suggestion? My daughter Mary would appreciate Miss Wood's
companionship for a few more days. Let her help Miss Wood develop
more skill in the finer aspects of feminine grace. Indeed, I could
tell that her instruction on the piano had already greatly improved
Miss Wood's performance. Then Miss Wood could return to Penyclawdd
later, when she and Miss Arnold have allowed the distance of time
to calm their feelings.”

This suggestion was readily agreed to by all
parties.

One evening after she returned to Penyclawdd
from the Somersets, Cecelia went looking for Jane. There were only
two days to go before they left for Bath, and she felt it was
important to pay attention to her. She found Jane in the front
parlor, doing her share of the everlasting task of mending clothes.
She sat beside her and grabbed a piece from the basket. While they
stitched together in silence, Jane abruptly shot out, “I hate this
tedious work. I so wish we would hire a needlewoman.”

“I don't mind it. Keeps the hands occupied and
passes the time.”

“Why? I suppose living in this backwater,
there's nothing else to do.”

“There's always riding or walking up on the high
moors. The blueberries on Hatterrall hill should be ripe. I could
show you some of my favorite places.”

“Suppose you're right, there's plenty to do if
you like those things. I'm just not cut out for living in the
country. There's always something going on in London or in Bath.
This wilderness, it is just so so -.”

“Wild?”

“Barren. Devoid of any refinement or
entertainment at all.”

“It's good for George to be here. He's quieter,
not drinking as much.”

“So what?”

“Don't you love him? I'd have thought you would
want him to be happy.”

“Love, a man, me? Does anyone ever truly love a
man? I doubt it. While I have some tender feelings for him, I
tolerate him and give him guidance. Eventually, I guess, one grows
fond of them. But love, I don't think so.”

Cecelia was shocked. “Are you sure? Never feel
anything for anyone?” She had started to have this strange feeling
when George looked at her, or when he walked close to her or
accidentally touched her. It was as if the bottom of her stomach
was about to fall out. It almost seemed he felt something about
her, but was too honorable to say anything. It was hard for her not
to follow him with her eyes when he walked by. The trouble was that
he seemed to follow her with his as well. To feel nothing for one's
love was simply inconceivable. She felt she could endure seeing him
married to someone who loved him, but not to someone who felt
nothing for him.

“I thought I did once. A rather handsome young
man claimed to love me, even proposed, and then he called it off. I
will not let anyone hurt me like that again.”

“So you don't deeply love Captain Woods?”

“You aren't going to be missish are you?
Marriage is largely a matter of convenience. I'm very fond of
George and I'll gladly give him his 'heir and a spare' when it
comes to it, but after that he can find his own entertainment.”

“Jane, I couldn't be so cynical.”

“Then you'll die an old maid.”

“No I won't.”

“Well I hope you meet someone to your liking
when we visit Bath. You can't stay at Pena, Penac, whatever you
call this damned place, forever. There are no suitable young men
for you to marry here, and you have to get married. What would
become of you if you didn't find a husband?”

“I don't know. Maybe I'm meant to be an old
maid.”

Jane shivered at the thought, “No, Cecelia,
you're not. I'm sure there is a more than tolerable man for you
somewhere.” Cecelia felt an upsetting twinge of jealousy and
regret. So far the only more than tolerable man she'd met was
engaged to Miss Arnold. She rapidly banished that thought and
replied, “My portion won't carry me to Bath or London. I have an
Aunt in Swansea. It's not quite as stylish as Bath or Brighton, and
I'm sure she'd like my company. That will make up for the
inconvenience. I'll probably find some dashing sea captain with all
those sailors who call it home.”

“If you say so,” Jane gave her future cousin's
appearance a serious study, “but you're a handsome enough lass if I
may say so. I'll do my best to find you a husband when we visit
Bath. It's the least I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“However, you do need to carry yourself with
more dignity. Put some distance between you and the common
herd.”

“I'll try, but Miss Somerset said my manners
were refreshing and welcoming.”

“What is mild eccentricity on the part of a
noblewoman, is unbecoming for the more common.”

“I suppose you're right, Jane.”

The big day finally arrived. It was the morning
they left for Bath. The carriage was in the yard and loaded. The
hired postilions awaited the call to start the trip while their
mounts sidled with impatience. They would drive via Gloucester
rather than change carriages at the ferry in Chepstow. It would
mean an extra day on the road, but would make for a much more
comfortable trip.

Cecelia stood with one foot on the carriage step
and took a long last look at Penyclawdd. Then she stepped up and
joined Captain Wood and Miss Arnold in the chaise. The Captain
knocked on the carriage and shouted, “Drive on!”

They had hardly crunched their way out of the
yard when Heulwen ran after them. She was barking, and frantic that
her people were leaving. Cecelia asked, again, “Could we please
take her?” The answer again was “No.” This was followed by, “Don't
worry, she'll turn back home soon.”

Heulwen was still following the carriage and
barking at it when the carriage reached the Hereford road in
Llanvihangel Crucorney. The postilions stopped for a moment, and
Cecelia opened the door. Heulwen jumped in. She explained, “I don't
think she was going to leave us, and she shouldn't run all the way
to Bath.” Then she cuddled her dog and told her, “Who's a good
little doggy, then.”

Jane was not amused, but the Captain shushed her
and said, “All right, she can come, but you will have to keep her
under good control in the city. She can't just run loose like she
does at home.”

Cecelia blushed, “Thank you. I will.”

He then laughed, “I'm glad she is along. She'll
keep you busy and out of trouble Miss Wood.”

The fifty mile carriage ride to Gloucester was
uneventful. More to the point it was dull, tedious and long. Where
was a highwayman when you needed the adventure? The road from
Abergavenny to Monmouth was fine enough, but then they snaked
through the hills and the carriage took its time. Cecelia found
that immersing herself in her book and her dog helped with the
tedium. They didn't make up for the enjoyment she would have had
driving herself. George simply wondered if he should have brought
that bottle of brandy after all. In the meantime Jane simply glared
out the window at the passing scenery. Sharing the ride with
Meadows and one of Miss Arnold's maids did not help. Even Miss
Wood's normally sunny outlook and joyful disposition were fraying
by the time they arrived in Gloucester.

Gloucester, itself, brought new problems.
Gloucester was a busy city on a major north-south carriage route
with an active river port. Captain Wood had with no small
difficulty arranged for two rooms at an inn. Miss Arnold announced
she had a headache and asked which room was hers. Then she asked,
“Where is Miss Wood sleeping?”

“I thought she would sleep in the other room, my
love.”

“Then where are you sleeping?”

“I thought, since we were engaged and our
wedding is drawing closer, that maybe we could share a room
tonight.”

“Think again. Miss Wood, you'll be sleeping in
the room with me. That animal can keep the Captain company in
his.”

“As you wish, my dear.” The Captain was visibly
disappointed. Miss Arnold left to find her room and have a
restorative nap before dinner. Cecelia felt for the Captain in his
discontent. As a distraction, she pointed out, “Heulwen needs a
walk, as do I. Would you like to escort us?”

“Where were you planning to go?”

“Down to the Severn, and then perhaps look
around the Cathedral. Is that agreeable?”

“Miss Wood, that's very agreeable.”

“And if it's possible, could we try to purchase
a proper collar and lead for Heulwen. She needs to be elegant for
Bath just like me. This piece of line will never do for walking on
the Parade Garden.”

The walk to the Severn crossed the stagnant
ditch that was the start of the abandoned Gloucester and Berkeley
canal. Then they followed a damp footpath to the river's edge.

As they watched the birds hunt on the muddy
banks of the tidal river, George turned to Cecelia and said, “Miss
Wood, Cecelia, thank you so much for coming back to Penyclawdd. I
was so mortified by Jane's behavior that I didn't know what to say
or do. Your friend, Mr. Landor, stopped by and it was at his
suggestion that I drove to Raglan. Jane is such a lovely woman, but
I wish she could control her temper and her tongue a little
better.”