What About Cecelia? (2 page)

“It's not me you need to charm Mr. Landor.”

He collected himself, and then began, “Julia,
I'm sorry for what I said. You know how I get started ranting and
say things I can't possibly mean. Could you forgive me?”

The noise of the wind blowing over the heather
on the high moor filled the silence between them until Julia let
loose. She gave her husband every bit as good a tongue-lashing as
he had given her earlier.

“Forgive you, you, you insolent loud-mouthed
irascible fool! Storming and shouting just because the porridge was
a little too milky. Then getting upset that your fool of a
solicitor sent you another padded bill.” She turned to Cecelia and
told her, “If you would pass the reins to Mr. Landor, he can lead
me back to Llanthony. I have a few more things to say to him, which
might be embarrassing for you to hear.”

Cecelia handed the leads to Mr. Landor. He gave
her a sheepish grin, and quietly asked, “Would you mind walking
home?”

“Miss Wood, walk to Penyclawdd from here? Mr.
Landor whatever are you thinking of? Nothing as usual. Miss Wood,
please join us in Llanthony for some refreshments before you ride
home.”

“It would be my pleasure, as long as you will be
done arguing by the time I arrive.”

“We will be, I have only a few more things to
tell my Lord and Master.”

Mr. Landor winked at Cecelia, “Miss Wood, Julia
and I are well-matched. We give each other as good as we get.”

The Landors could be heard arguing over the
heather and blueberries as they walked their horses back along the
dike and then down the steep hill to Llanthony. Cecelia waited
until she couldn't hear their raised voices and then started
walking after them.

The path from the top of Hatterrall hill to the
ruins of Llanthony prior started off almost flat and then descended
steeply to the valley floor below
ⁱ
. The narrow bottom of
Cecelia's riding habit, coupled with shoes that were not
well-suited to walking, combined with the hot sun to make the steep
descent tiresome. Less than halfway down, she sat for a rest and
examined her feet. “I think I'm getting a blister.”

Mr. Landor rode up on his hunter, leading her
mare behind him. “Miss Wood, Julia suggested I come and find you. I
hadn't realized how difficult it can be to walk in a riding
habit.”

“Suggested?”

He grinned, “All right, Miss Wood, Julia gave me
firm and binding instructions that I was to find you and bring you
back on your horse. In fact she barred the door after I left, and
will only open it if I return with you. Is that better?”

“Now you are being silly.”

“Yes I am. The truth is somewhere between those
extremes, but it looks like you could use the ride.”

Cecelia mounted her mare and in short order they
descended from the heather through the bracken covered and then
wooded hillside to the Landor's house.

Julia received her with open arms, “I am so glad
Walter found you.”

“You didn't bar the door and kick him out, did
you?”

“No, but he wanted to start writing some verse
or another and I told him it could wait.”

“It couldn't, but I wrote it in my head while
looking for Miss Wood. If you'll excuse me, I'll put it on
paper.”

“Men!” Julia watched her husband disappear down
the hall to his study. “You must be famished.”

“I could use some tea.”

Julia bellowed at the top of her voice, “Martha,
tea and some scones in the parlor.”

“Yes, Mrs. Landor.” was returned with a similar
shout.

Seeing Cecelia start to chuckle, Julia said,
“You'll have to pardon my shouts, Cecelia, but we haven't had time
to run bell wires. It's the only way to get the servants to pay
attention.”

“If it works, it's fine with me.”

“I'm going to go hoarse if we don't get it
fixed. Would you come in here and sit?” She led the way to the
parlor.

The tea and scones were well appreciated. Mr.
Landor finished with his inspiration and returned before the
refreshments were consumed. He helped himself to the remains and
asked, “Well, Miss Wood, how goes it with the new Lord of
Penyclawdd?”

“Captain Wood seems a nice enough man. If he
weren't drunk. He's certainly handsome enough.”

“Where was he wounded?”

“Wounded?”

“If he came back from Spain, he must have been
wounded somewhere.”

“He isn't wounded.”

“Not that you can see.” Mr. Landor put on a
grave face.

“What do you mean?”

“I was in Spain as a volunteer for a couple of
years. Before I bought Llanthony. If he has seen anything like the
scenes I saw and is back here without a visible wound, then he's
wounded here.” Mr. Landor pointed at his heart.

Cecelia looked at him in astonishment. “What do
you mean?”

Mr. Landor was suddenly very serious and dropped
his normally jocular appearance. He paused and carefully stated,
“Miss Wood, the war in Spain hasn't been as glorious as the press
has it. Too many cruel and utterly awful things happen. Some men,
and I'm afraid your cousin is one of them, see too much. They
break.”

“Poor man.”

“Your concern reflects well on you Miss
Wood.”

“Is there anything I can do for him?”

“No. Just give him time, and peace.”

“Oh dear. His fiancée, Miss Arnold, is anything
but peaceful.”

“Does he drink?”

“Heavily, is that bad?”

“It's not good. He's trying to keep the terrors
away by staying so drunk that he can't see them. It won't work.”
With these glum words a silence fell over them.

After a few minutes, Julia restarted the
conversation, “Before you go, would you like a puppy? Caro's litter
is almost ready to wean.”

“I'd love one, especially one out of Caro, but I
can't.”

“Why not?”

“I'm planning to stay with my aunt in Swansea
when Captain Wood wishes me to leave, and she may not like
dogs.”

Mr Landor added, “Anyone who doesn't like dogs
is fit for treasons, stratagems and plots.” To which his helpmate
replied, “Walter, don't go getting all poetic right now. We're
discussing important things.”

“Yes, dear. But my poetry is important.”

“In its place.”

“There's always a place for poetry.”

Julia ignored his plea, “I know! Why don't we
all ride down to Penyclawdd?”

“You're not comfortable riding Ionie, will you
be up to it?”

“You can lead me.”

When they walked to the stable-yard, where the
groom had saddled the three horses, Cecelia gushed, “Is this Ionie?
What a beautiful mare!”

Julia admitted, “She is beautiful, but sour
tempered. Mr. Landor can just handle her, but I'm not a good enough
horsewoman to ride her.”

Cecelia suggested, “My dear Awyr
ⁱⁱ
is a calm ride. Why don't
you learn to ride on her? I'll ride your Ionie and see if I can
school her in good manners.”

Mr. Landor approved, “You know, Julia. Cecelia's
been riding almost as long as she can walk. She's by far the best
rider of the three of us. If she can't school Ionie, the horse is
irredeemable and we'll sell her.”

Cecelia added, “I haven't met a horse I can't
school. If you decide to sell her and buy another, let me help you
judge.”

“Of course.”

On the ride down Cwm Bwchel to Penyclawdd, Ionie
was skittish and tended to shy, but Cecelia kept her mount from
outright bolting. Ionie wanted to run, and Cecelia let her canter
ahead of her companions. Awyr was happy to walk behind and carry a
novice rider. Much to her surprise, Julia found that she could
easily ride a well-trained horse. Mr. Landor and his wife caught up
with Cecelia at Penyclawdd. They asked, “Miss Wood, could Mrs.
Landor borrow Awyr for the next few days, while you train our
Ionie?”

Cecelia agreed, but her groom expressed his
misgivings at having such a handful of a horse in their stables.
“Miss Wood,” he began, “This horse is a sour one. You can see from
how she holds her head and the way she looks at you. It's like
she's always measuring the distance for a kick.”

“Yes, she's been left to her own devices too
long. A couple of days working on her, maybe a week and she'll be
well mannered. She's got the build of a good hunter.”

“If you say so, Miss. I'd rather not work with
such an ill-tempered beast.”

“She just needs training. Even if Mr. Landor
sells her in the end, with training she'll fetch a much better
price.”

The Landors followed Cecelia into the house and
were introduced to Captain Wood and Miss Arnold.

On his sixth glass of Madeira for the afternoon,
Captain Wood swayed a bit as he stood, but that didn't stop him
from welcoming his guests, once Cecelia introduced them.

“Captain George Wood and Miss Jane Arnold, these
are Mr. Walter Landor, the poet, and his wife Julia.”

“Glad to meet you. Would you care for some
wine?”

“It looks like you've been having some yourself,
Captain Wood. Is there any left?”

“Plenty. I brought four or five casks of first
rate Madeira from London.”

Miss Arnold intervened, “I think you've had
enough for now, Captain Wood.”

He gave his guests a goggle-eyed stare. “I
suppose so. Need to stay awake through dinner tonight.”

Miss Arnold continued, “You must excuse my
fiancée, it was a difficult journey yesterday and he was in need of
some refreshments.”

Cecelia thought, “I'll say. More like he needs
some strong tea and fresh air to walk of that drunkenness.”

Julia asked, “How long have you been engaged,
and are you planning an unusually big wedding?”

“Two months, tomorrow.”

Mr. Landor asked, “Why aren't you two married
yet?”

Julia cried, “Walter, that's rude.”

“No it isn't. We took, what, almost three weeks
from the time I saw you at the dance to get hitched.”

“But you're one of the wild Landors, aren't
you?”

“Maybe. But still, I'd like to know why they're
taking so long. Have you even posted the Banns yet?”

Jane answered, “We're waiting for permission
from the head of my family, Lord Pershore. That and officially I'm
still in first mourning for my aunt.”

George continued, “I may have to sell the estate
to fund Miss Arnold's portion. We're still thinking on how to do
right by her.”

“You might sell Penyclawdd? Sir, the south of
Wales is paradise. I've said so in print and still hold to it.”

The morning rain was spraying down. It soaked
everything that wasn't under cover, and made the fields a slippery
mass of mud. Halfway through his first Madeira of the morning,
Captain Wood gazed out of the window, and observed, “What a sodding
miserable day.”

Jane replied to him, “It is. The weather is so
much nicer in London or Bath.”

“It rains there too, and the rains stink of coal
smoke and soot. At least the rain is clean here.”

“There's something to do in London when it
rains.”

“I suppose so, but people out here seem to
manage despite the bloody sodding rain.”

Jane ignored his swearing, “They don't have any
choice.”

George let the conversation lag while he
thought. After a few moments he asked, “What I am going to do about
Cecelia?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She seems a nice enough girl Jane, but
something tells me she'll be in the way when it comes time to set
up our own home.”

“I'm sure there is somewhere she can go. She
must have some other relatives who would take her in.”

“I hope so. How do you find her?”

“We chatted while you were still in bed. She's a
sweet girl. Although she is a bit bookish for my tastes. But I
think we'll get on well. At least after we get to know each other
better. She's polite and respects my station.”

“I'm glad you're getting on.”

“I just wish there was something we could do
here while the weather is so miserable.”

“Cecelia seems to have found something to do.
Where is she?”

“Over by the stables. She's schooling that
skittish horse she rode here yesterday.”

“Now that has to be worth seeing. Landor hinted
she was one excellent horsewoman when I saw them off yesterday.” He
put down his mug, and asked Jane, “Are you coming with me?”

“In this weather? No, and the mud in the
farmyard will ruin my shoes.”

“Don't you have any patterns?”

“I left them in London. I didn't think I'd need
them.”

“Every estate I own will have a farmyard. That
farmyard will be muddy.”

“That still doesn't mean I have to go out into
it and get covered in muck.”

“Nonetheless, I'm going to see what she's up to.
Meadows was telling me yesterday as well as Landor that Cecelia has
a reputation as a formidable horsewoman. He said it was well-worth
seeing her in action.”

“I heard you the first time. Please go. I'm
happy with this book.”

Captain Wood donned a cloak and walked out to
see what his cousin was doing. He found Cecelia in a field trotting
this huge horse around in a circle with a lead attached to its
bridle. A small furry object was barking its approval of the
process. When it saw him, it bounded over and demanded
attention.

“Miss Wood,” he called, “what's this?”

Cecelia flashed him a smile before answering,
which took his breath away. Her enthusiasm shown through the wet
and only enhanced her beauty.

“Heulwen, your new puppy. Isn't she cute?”

“
My
new puppy?”

“Don't you remember? Mr. Landor said he would
give her to us yesterday when he and Mrs. Landor escorted me
home.”

“No I don't. I must have been more bosky than I
thought.” He stooped down to pet the dog and Heulwen obligingly
rolled over to let him pet her belly.