What About Cecelia? (16 page)

“Since she often talked of living with her aunt,
I would strongly suspect she was headed there, sir. Her Aunt lives
in Swansea, sir. I'm afraid that Miss Wood did not confide her name
or situation to me.”

Miss Wood was, as a matter of fact, at that
moment standing where the stage from Bath dropped her. She stood by
the Aust ferry on the east bank of the Severn River and looked at
the river crossing with increasing unease. The small cockleshell of
a ferry boat and threatening clouds blowing in across the Severn
did not bode well for a smooth crossing. In her unease, she asked
the ferry captain, “Will it be safe to cross?”

“Safe Ma'am, of course she's safe. Haven't lost
one, oh, since last month.”

“Since last month?”

Seeing the greenish pallor creep into Miss
Wood's face, the boatman, laughed. “Nay lass, she's a good sound
boat. I wouldn't go myself if it were other. You'll be fine.”

“Even with that storm coming?”

“That! A storm, just a little rain and a smidgen
of wind. Naught to worry over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Miss, you can stay in the lodgings here and
see. Cost you a bit though.”

“I will, Can I catch the first boat in the
morning, while it's calmer? I'm prone to seasick.”

The man smiled, this young woman reminded him of
his own daughter, now married to a farmer not far away. “I see
Miss. My own daughter couldn't stand the waves either. Married a
good man up in Nibley. Can't see it myself, but I guess she took
after her mother. For some reason she likes the feel of solid
ground under her feet.” He pointed her at the lodgings then tipped
his hat and headed off to his boat.

Cecelia was soon safely ensconced in the inn,
enjoying some tea and warming herself by the fire. So she
completely missed the commotion that happened outside. A
well-dressed young man rode up and sprang off his horse, shouting,
“Has that blasted ferry gone yet!”

“No sir, you're just in time. We're just about
to cast off.”

“Good, is there room for me?”

“And your horse sir.”

“Excellent. Lead me to it, and let's go, damn
you. I have to get to Chepstow as soon as I can.”

“Yes sir. Why may I ask?”

“I'll tell you when we're underway, but it's
important. No time to stand here gabbing.”

The boatmen cast off and with the strong wind
coming down the Severn, the boat made good time across it. The
young man stood there, tapping his foot with impatience. The ferry
captain asked him, “Sir, what is your hurry?”

“I'm chasing the love of my life, she's fled
from Bath and I'm told is heading to her Aunt's in Swansea.”

“You don't say, sir. What did she look
like?”

“Can't you make this boat go any faster?”

“Not without tipping her. She's heeling enough
as it is.”

He scowled at the clouds gathering over the
hills of the Forest of Dean. “I hope it doesn't storm. I don't want
to spend tonight in Chepstow.”

“This woman, sir, what did she look like?”

“Her name is Cecelia, Miss Cecelia Wood. She's
tall, brown-haired, fair skinned and beautiful. I don't know. I do
know she's headed to Swansea, and that she's ahead of me. That's
enough.”

The boatman thought it sounded rather like that
fair passenger who was waiting for first boat tomorrow morning. He
thought it best to keep quiet about her. Besides, he might be
wrong, and then this spirited gentleman would have real cause for
complaint. He asked, “What are you called? In case I hear news of
Miss Wood.”

“Captain George Wood, I was in Bath, but best to
send news to my home at Penyclawdd house. She's my cousin.”

“I wish you the best, Captain Wood. It mayn't be
safe on the roads tonight, but the anchor is one of the best inns.
It's also where the stage for Swansea starts in the morning. If
your Miss Wood is taking the stage, she'll be there tonight or
tomorrow morning.”

Captain Wood, who had been tensed with every
fiber of his being, seemed to relax. “You're right. I can't ride
all the way to Swansea tonight, not without a good moon. I'll get a
fresh start in the morning.”

As soon as the ferry pulled up to the dock at
Beachly, the man sprang onto his horse and was off. He stopped at
the Anchor and took a room. There was no 'Miss Wood' on tomorrow
morning's waybill for the stage. If Cecelia already were in
Swansea, she'd still be there tomorrow. It didn't bear thinking
about, if she wasn't.

In the morning Captain Wood called for his horse
and rode hard for Swansea. Four hours and three changes of horse
later, he was there. He walked his horse along the crowded high
street and realized that his search wasn't going to be easy.
Stiffly dismounting in front of the White Swan, he found lodging
and a stable for his mount. Then he started his inquiries by asking
the publican, “Do you know of a Miss Wood or a Mrs. Wood? She would
be an older woman and related to the Woods of Penyclawdd.”

The inn keeper responded, slowly, “A Mrs. Wood?
Let me think. Well maybe down on Wind Street. No, that's a Mrs.
Dobson. She's an elderly lady you say?”

“No, I don't think elderly is right. Maybe in
her thirties?”

“Then there's a Miss Jones. She's always on
about her nephews. Doesn't have any nieces that I remember.
And.”

George found this trying, in the extreme, and
finally said, “It will be faster if I just knock on every door in
Swansea. There can't be that many.”

“I can't rightly say to that, sir. Mayhap's
you're right.”

George started at one end of town. He knocked,
pounded or shouted at each door until he received an answer.
Unfortunately, the first twenty doors resulted in the same negative
answer, “A Miss Wood or Mrs. Wood? No never heard of anyone like
that.”

His actions attracted another sort of attention.
Two robust gentlemen, members of the town watch, interrupted him at
the twenty-first door. “Sir, what are you doing? It is disturbing
the whole town.”

“I'm trying to find Miss Wood's aunt.”

“Miss Wood's aunt? Why ever that?”

“I don't care about the aunt. It's Miss Wood, um
Miss Cecelia Wood I'm looking for. Have you seen her?”

“No, can't rightly say that I have. Have you
Bob?”

“No, never heard of such a person.”

“Then please get out of my way!”

“No sir, you can't disturb the peace like this.
You will have to stop it.”

Captain Wood knocked one of the men to the
ground and started knocking on the twenty-first door of his
day.

The other one shouted, “Sorry sir, but we can't
have that.” He blew his whistle and within a few minutes Captain
Wood was being frog-marched to the Swansea Bridewell to await next
week's assizes on a charge of breach of the peace. Which was a bit
of a shame, really, as the stage from Chepstow was just arriving
outside of the White Swan. Miss Wood was anxiously looking out of
its windows and wondering how she could possibly find her Aunt Mrs.
Hopwell or her husband the vicar in this huge and strange city.

Captain Wood found life in the bridewell
tolerable, or at least as tolerable as life in a prison could be.
Since he was obviously a man of means, the warders kept him
separate from the drunks. Because he could pay for food and bed, he
didn't have to earn his keep at hard labor like the other
miscreants. In any case, he couldn't be pressed into the navy until
after the assizes found him guilty and remanded him to the
gaol.

The enforced idleness of his life was
extraordinarily difficult to his emotions. It was only the iron
discipline that once let him lead men into fire that kept him from
screaming in frustration. Cecelia was somewhere, out there, doing
something. The possibility that she was leaving Swansea for
somewhere else grew with every day. He tried to argue with the
warder, to offer bail, but to no avail. He even tried to see if he
could hire a member of the watch to look for her. The answer was
always along the lines of “Sorry, sir, but you're not from around
here and we can't trust you.”

The warders let him, for a consideration, write
letters. He sent expresses to Bath and Penyclawdd asking Meadows to
come and vouch for his honesty.

Meadows, in fact, was already on his way. He
brought the Captain's carriage with him, which meant a longer,
slower trip via Gloucester. He didn't arrive until the day before
the assizes. Immediately he started checking the inns for his
master. It didn't take long before he heard the town gossip about
the strange young man who was searching for a 'Mrs. Wood' who was
an aunt. With that information in hand, he found the Captain at the
bridewell almost at once.

The warder banged on the door to Captain Wood's
quarters. “A visitor for you 'Captain'.” He unlocked and opened the
door and let Meadows in. The door clanked shut behind him, locking
him in with his master.

“Sir?” Meadows was shocked. Captain Wood was
unshaven and his one set of clothes hadn't been changed or washed
since he left Bath. “Sir, you look like a desperate fellow.”

“I am a desperate fellow. How am I to find Miss
Wood locked in here?”

“I'll ask around, discreetly. First, though, if
you look like that the judge at the assizes will send you to chase
kangaroos. If I may, I'll see if the warder will let me restore you
to your proper appearance, sir.”

The Swansea assizes where dealing with the
week's refuse from the city bridewell at a break-neck pace. Each
miscreant was escorted to the 'dock' in front of a tall desk where
a wigged judge read the charges against him. The miscreant was
asked if they were true. Very few argued otherwise, as it tended to
displease the court and would result in a longer or harsher
sentence. The miscreant was then led off. As he awaited the chance
to pay his fine or the cuffs to take him to prison, two naval
gentlemen, a midshipman and his petty officer, offered him the
exciting chance of joining the King's navy in exchange for his
punishment. It was not always a fair bargain.

The efficient process of the court stuttered
when Captain Wood was escorted in. Meadows had done wonders at
cleaning and grooming him. A fresh suit had done the rest. Captain
Wood was obviously a gentleman. The judge read the charges,
“Captain George Wood, The charges against you are that you
willfully disturbed the peace and assaulted a constable. Is this
true?”

“Not exactly, your worship. I was looking for a
Miss Wood who had run away from my household in Bath. They were
stopping me.”

“So did you assault the constable?”

“I pushed him out of my way.”

“That sounds guilty to me. Ten pounds fine. Pay
the clerk on your way out.”

George left the dock and walked towards the
clerk of the court to pay his fine. The midshipman and petty
officer, who had been negligently loitering in the corner of the
court, approached him. They were about to grab him and add him to
the queue of unfortunates who were doomed to a term in the royal
navy. “We'll get your fine waved if you come this way.”

George pivoted on his heel and snapped an order
at them in his best parade drill voice. “Attention, you miserable
excuses for officers. Do you know my rank?”

“No sir!” Much to their surprise they found
themselves standing to attention. “I'm not surprised. Didn't you
hear them refer to me as Captain Wood?”

“No Sir!”

“And you call yourselves officers in the King's
service.”

Much to the amusement of the impressed men,
which was quite possibly the last amusement that they would have
for a long while, he walked around the two sailors and inspected
them. Then he stood in front and started to dress them down. “In
the army we would never tolerate such sloppy uniforms. Stand to
attention when I'm talking to you.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Now salute!” They saluted him, and he
returned it. When he got to the clerk, Meadows had already paid his
fine.

As they left the court, Meadows turned to his
master and asked him, “Sir, if you are ever upset with me, please
tell me before you use that voice.”

George smiled, “Don't worry about that, I won't.
I'm pleased that I haven't forgotten how to do it. Now let's get
back to the White Swan and think if there's some way we can find
Cecelia.”

“If you would, sir, leave me to search. You need
a rest and I can ask the servants. It is unlikely that the sudden
arrival of an unattached young woman at her maiden Aunt's would not
give rise to rumors.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, sir, that I can find out much more
easily than you can, if Miss Wood is in Swansea.”

Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, no one
remembered a young woman getting off the stage just over a week
earlier. Neither did anyone have an unusual visitor from Bath in
the same time period. Meadows searches were fruitless. They
returned to Penyclawdd. The journey felt long and tedious.
Penyclawdd was quiet and only enlivened by Heulwen. Even the dog
seemed to be missing someone. A franked letter awaited the
Captain's return. It was from Mrs. Ames. In it she explained that
she and Mr. Ames had a long-standing relationship. Then she
finished by giving her blessing to the Captain and Miss Wood. She
asked when the wedding would be and could she be invited to it. It
solidified and deepened the dull greyness that surrounded Captain
Wood.

By the time Miss Wood awoke in the morning at
the ferry inn in Aust, the storm from last night had passed through
and the sun was shining. The winds were calm and when she looked
out at the Severn channel the waves were, by comparison to
yesterday afternoon, flat. She quickly packed her bag, grabbed a
roll for breakfast and headed down to the ferry to take her place
on the first trip of the day.

The ferry captain had some bad news for her.
“Miss, I know you were worried about the wind last night. Worried
that it was too strong.”