What About Cecelia? (9 page)

“Mary Georgiana Somerset,” Lady Elizabeth rarely
spelled out her daughter's names to her. It was something she only
did when her daughter was being recalcitrant or naughty, “you will
do as I say.” She and her daughter were in Mary's room before
dinner. Ostensibly Lady Elizabeth was discussing how the day's
riding lessons went. In fact, she was discussing how best to teach
Miss Wood a bare modicum of the feminine skills and manners that
life in Penyclawdd had not.

“Mo-o-ther, why? I like Miss Wood, but there is
no reason she should try on my dresses.”

“I am going to tell you this once and I expect
you to listen, then cheerfully obey me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mo-o-other.”

“Nicely please.”

She smiled, “Yes mother.”

“You wouldn't be here if Sir Giles Wood, then
just the Honorable Giles Wood, hadn't helped your father and me
elope. Not if he hadn't hired the carriage, kept the horses quiet
and driven off when your father escorted me to it, nor if he hadn't
stood firm when my father demanded to know our direction. In fact,
it was his fanciful story that sent my father in the wrong
direction. It meant that Sir Charles and I could get most of the
way to Scotland before my father even started out after us from
London.”

“So what?”

“I could never directly repay Sir Giles for his
kindness. An offer of money would have been an insult, and he had
all the social position he ever wanted. His wife's parents were
pleased with his proposal and he didn't need to elope. After her
death, neither your father nor I could coax him back into society.
The only way left that I can ever repay him for his kindness is to
help his daughter to find her station in life, and that I will do.
You will help me. Do you comprehend me?”

“Yes.” She paused to roll her eyes,
“Mother.”

“Besides you like Miss Wood, don't you?”

“I do.”

“And you don't want her to be dependent on that
dreadful Arnold woman, do you?”

“Lord, no. I don't know how Cecelia can stand
her.”

“It shows no little goodness of character in
your friend. Miss Wood will need some fashionable gowns. Obviously
she can't wear yours, she's too tall if nothing else. If we can
take one of your old ones and get Miss Wood's measurements on it,
then Miss Antoinette can make her a few gowns that are suitable for
a young woman on her first trip to Bath.”

“All right, if you put it that way, I suppose
she could try one.”

“I want to find the one that comes closest to
fitting her. That way there will be the fewest adjustments. If Miss
Wood gets to be known in Bath with her current clothes, then there
will be no helping her.”

“Yes, mother. If you insist.”

“I do. I wouldn't ask you if it weren't
needed.”

“Anything else you want me to do, while you're
asking favors?”

“One more thing, Mary. Tonight at dinner I will
place Miss Wood between you and me. We will gently guide her to use
the proper utensils.”

“Won't that be too near the head of the table
for her precedence? It's above her rank for her to sit there.”

“There are times when it is best to ignore
precedence, and a quiet family dinner is one of them.”

Relaxed because she was more familiar with her
companions, Cecelia paid more attention to the order of courses.
With only a few hints from either Mary or Lady Elizabeth she
managed to avoid any committing any serious faux pas. Being dressed
in a complete, albeit old-fashioned and out of style, dress that
didn't stink of horses helped her fit into her company and boosted
her confidence. In addition, Mary's progress with equitation was
something that Mary and she could converse about with the rest of
the family.

Cecelia pointed out at one stage in the
conversation, “We talked about riding to Holy Mountain this
afternoon, but other things interfered with it. How about tomorrow
morning?”

“Holy Mountain?”

“That's the English name for it. The locals call
it Ysgyryd Fawr or the shattered mountain. It's supposed to be a
special place.”

The idea of riding to it was enthusiastically
received. It was resolved that a party including grooms and at
least one little brother and sister would ride the five miles to
the top of the mountain, and then return.

That evening, as they prepared for bed, Sir
Charles commented to Lady Elizabeth. “My love, I think your protégé
is progressing nicely. Don't you?”

“Her manners certainly have improved. She's not
quite ready for Bath society, but at least she's not an
embarrassment.”

“And I've been impressed with how much Mary's
seat has improved. What do you think of the expedition they've
planned?”

“You know me, I never interfere with my
children's pleasures.” Sir Charles thought this was something of an
understatement, but accepted her approval.

“Then I won't find a distraction to divert them.
I do have a concern about Miss Wood.”

“She and that Captain Wood?”

“Precisely. They seem attracted to each other. I
mean, they do what they can to avoid it, but there is something
between them. Did you notice?”

“I did. Why do you think I stopped the dancing
practice this afternoon?”

“Do you think that Arnold woman notices?”

“She'd be blind not to. I'm rather pleased that
Miss Wood is visiting us. It will keep her out of trouble.”

“I hope it works, and that Captain Wood soon
forgets Miss Wood.”

“And she him. I do so hope she meets some other
eligible man in Bath.”

The next morning, both Mary and Cecelia were up
early, brushing and working with their horses. The head groom
watched their efforts with a disapproving expression on his face.
His disapproval was more due to his feelings about social rank than
anything they were doing incorrectly. Cecelia noted this and told
him, “Miss Somerset needs to understand her horse in order to be
comfortable on her. This is really the only way for the two of them
to build trust in each other. I'm showing her how it is done.”

“If you say so Miss, but I'd rather the family
stick to its place in life and we servants stick to ours
likewise.”

“Do you think I'm a servant?”

“You're certainly acting like one.”

Cecelia straightened up and stared him in the
eyes. She was a tall woman, and he, an ex-jockey, was on the short
side. It made her intimidating when she told him, “I will have you
know that I am Sir Giles Wood's daughter, and one of the best
riders in Monmouth County. Until recently I ran Penyclawdd farm.
You'll not forget that, will you?”

“No, Miss.”

“Good. When we're done here, Miss Charlotte and
Master Charles will need their mounts too. We're headed to the top
of Holy Mountain this morning.”

“Yes, Miss. I presume you'll need an
escort?”

“As you see fit, but I'd expect at least one
groom to accompany us.”

Breakfast was more rushed than usual, and as a
result the party was assembled by mid-morning. They were soon
riding on the first five mile leg of the trip to the mountain. Two
grooms accompanied them. One carried a packed basketwork pannier
with essential foodstuffs for a mid-day
al fresco
meal at
the peak on his horse.

Cecelia and Georgie led the party up the steep
hill to the long rock known locally as the 'devil's table'. Miss
Charlotte and Master Charles needed a break, so Cecelia suggested
that they stop here. Mary was disappointed, “I'd like a chance for
a gallop if we could. All we've done this morning is walk at a
sedate pace with my little brother and sister.”

Master Charles tossed a clod of dirt at her.

Cecelia felt similarly about the pace on their
ride, but was too polite to say so. Instead, she said, “There are
the ruins of an old chapel at the other end of the mountain. Race
you there.”

“You're on!”

“Mr. Somerset, would you count for us to
start?”

“Ready, steady, go!” The two woman pushed their
mounts to run and soon reached the other end of the mountain.
Georgie asked, “Did you let me win?”

“No. Not really.”

“You mean yes, don't you?”

“It's a long walk back to Hill house in Raglan
if my horse goes lame. So I didn't push her all-out.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, would you please hold my reins? There
is something I need to do here.”

“What? You're visible for miles around if it's
what I think you mean.”

“Not that. You'll see.” Mary took the reins
while Cecelia dismounted. Cecelia pulled a couple small cloth bags
from her pocket which caused Mary to remark, “Aren't those two of
mother's silk potpourri bags?”

“I don't know. I found them in a drawer, and
they had a bunch of musty old dried leaves in them. They smelt
funny. Is that potpourri?”

“Yes. What are you going to do?”

“The soil from the top Holy Mountain is special,
magical. A pinch in the garden helps your plants grow, and it's
always good luck to have some in the house.”

“Really?”

“That's what the local farmers believe. It's
probably a superstition, but it's a nice one.” She scooped a
portion of the soil into the first bag and sealed it. She looked up
at Mary and continued, “Not all of their superstitions are so nice.
Some are simply cruel, like cutting of a cat's tail to cure sore
eyes or blindness.”

“Yuck, how awful.”

“I know. We rational modern people must do what
we can to stop such things.”

“But you're still filling up bags of Holy
Mountain soil.”

“It's a local custom. Not as if it will harm
anyone, and it will make a nice gift.”

“I'm not sure my mother won't harm you when she
sees what you've done to her potpourri bags.”

“I doubt it. Anyway I can always buy or make her
replacements.”

As she was filling the second, both she and Miss
Somerset heard riders working their way towards them up the steep
hillside. As she looked up from sealing the second bag, she saw
Captain Wood and Miss Arnold. She stood up and waved. Then she
called, “Miss Arnold, and G- Captain Wood, did you know we would be
here?”

The Captain walked his horse over, “No Miss
Wood, we did not. Why ever are you dismounted?”

“I was filling these bags with soil from the
Holy Mountain.” She handed one to him and blushed, “It's something
of a housewarming present for Miss Arnold and you. It's good luck
if you keep a bag of the soil in your house, or, well.”

“Well what?”

“Bedroom. On your wedding night.”

He laughed, and pocketed the bag, “Thank you, I
will. Is the other one for you?”

“No,” she turned to her friend, “Miss Somerset,
this is for you.”

“Thank you, but no, Miss Wood. I don't hold with
superstitions. Keep it for yourself.” Mentally she added, “You will
need all the luck you can get.”

“I'll keep it then. Maybe it will help me catch
a good husband in Bath.”

Jane coughed in the background, and Cecelia
continued, “Oh, I'm sorry. Miss Mary Somerset, this is Miss Jane
Arnold.”

“Delighted to meet you again. You didn't ride
here all by yourselves from Raglan, did you?”

“No, one each of Miss Somerset's sisters and
brothers are having a restorative nuncheon by the devil's table
with the grooms.”

“I'm famished,” Jane added, “do you think
there's enough to share?”

Mary thought for a moment, balancing the social
niceties of the situation, and replied, “Most likely. Miss Arnold
would you care to see?”

“George?”

“I will wait while Miss Wood remounts and then
join you. Enjoy your snack.” After the two women trotted off he
turned his attention to Cecelia. “Are you enjoying your stay with
the Somersets?”

“Very much so. I do miss Penyclawdd terribly,
but I've been learning how behave at a proper dinner. I've even
been measured for dresses so that their Mantua maker can fit me out
when we arrive.”

“Hmmn.”

“Well I have to make a dashing appearance, and
attract male attention. I can't stay here forever, once you and
Jane ma,” she paused for air, “marry.”

“I suppose not, though for me you'll always be
welcome. Life at Penyclawdd still seems a bit flat in your
absence.”

“I've only been gone a couple of days. You'll
soon get over it.” George found he wasn't sure he wanted to get
over it.

“Do you need help to mount?”

“Me? No!”

“When you're ready I'll race you to the
others.”

“You're on.”

Mary and Jane had just dismounted and handed
their reins to the groom for safekeeping when they heard the
thundering noise of two horses galloping towards them. Captain Wood
and Miss Wood where racing seriously. The two where closely matched
and only stopped when they passed the edge of the rock. Master
Charles shouted in joy, “Yoicks! Now that's how I want to ride. Can
we do that on the way home?”

George asked the love of his life, “Who
won?”

“I didn't see.”

Master Charles spoke up, “Miss Wood, by a
nose.”

A week after the horse fair, Mr. Landor rode
down to Penyclawdd early in the morning and interrupted breakfast.
He didn't interrupt a flowing conversation. Jane and George were
sitting in silence quietly eating their morning meal at each other.
Jane and the cook had come to an agreement, so the food was
edible.

“George, old chap, I was wondering if you'd like
to try pigeon shooting with me tomorrow?”

“Are you sure about that? I didn't do very well
with the grouse shooting.”

“Completely different thing. I should have
thought of this myself. Grouse shooting is one loud volley after
another. This is just an occasional shot, if that.”

“If you say so. What do you think Jane?”

“I'd say go do it. I can give tomorrow's lesson
a miss.”