‘It would be most depressing if you found it boring.’ Celia squeezed Sarah’s hand. ‘I am so very, very pleased for you, and for Lord Deben, who is the nicest of men. He has always treated me in a sisterly way, and never put me to the blush over my limp. You will be very happy, I am certain, and I nearly joined Marianne in applauding how you bested the awful Miss Darwen. At least I will not be married because of an accident, not because I am such a ghastly female, at least I hope not.’
‘I still think you will be married, Celia. Lord Levedale has devoted so many hours to teaching you to drive, and I am sure you must have been proficient long before now. He must have a liking for you.’
It was true that he rarely advised her upon her handling of the reins now, but Celia resolutely told herself he saw that it was giving her opportunities to converse, which would not be so when she was accompanied by a groom, and so was being, like Lord Deben, kind. She did not believe it, but it was a good lie, because she had little doubt that it was to Marianne he would offer his hand, if not his heart.
‘Your happiness inclines you to look upon everything in the most positive light. I do not blame you for it, but doubt its veracity. Now, about you and Lord Deben. Is he taking you home to Stratford, or going ahead to see your Papa?’
‘I would dearly like to be there, to introduce him. I am not sure he would choose to knock upon the door and simply announce himself as the man who wanted to wed the daughter of the house. He has said he will hire a post-chaise to convey me home, and he will accompany the vehicle in his curricle, since accompanying me in the chaise would be rather too daring. He will set about making preparations in the morning. It means I must break up the party, although some will not notice my departure, and others be glad of it.’
‘I shall be glad only because I know it is for the most felicitous of reasons, and you must promise to write and tell me all about the response of your Mama and Papa. Now, off to your bed, lest there be bags under your eyes in the morning. Lord Deben would not like that.’
‘Oh, I shall not sleep a wink, Celia.’
Sarah fell asleep almost as her head touched the pillow, and with a smile upon her face.
Chapter 19
Celia awoke with the feelings she associated with waking from a pleasant dream into depressing reality. This often occurred when she dreamed of dancing – dancing with a handsome, witty partner whose features were never recalled the moment she surfaced. In the last few weeks she had had such a dream twice, and knew exactly with whom she had danced. Lord Levedale’s tall person, and his smile which compelled one to smile back, lingered after the music and steps were forgotten. This morning her feelings were not consequent to a dream, but the awareness that her friend Sarah, who had seemed doomed to a future as the wife of a man she did not love, and barely liked or respected, could now look forward to a future with the man she loved, and who loved her. She did not resent that, and was very happy for them both, but it contrasted starkly with what she herself faced. She had become reconciled to her single state, frustrated by her limitations but accepting that they held her back from the aspirations of her peers, that is until Lord Levedale had come into her life.
Now she was no longer reconciled, no longer accepting. She was consumed by negative emotions – anger, misery, despondency – and was conscious that the more they took control of her, the less there was for him to like. He had been attracted to her, she was sure of it. That first moment on that first evening, she had encountered a look she had never received from a man before, and felt as though something intangible but strong drew them together. To her total mystification, and growing dismay, the following days had seen him behave as if two different men. He was paying court to Marianne, although she would swear he did so without feeling. At the same time, having avoided her own person for several days, he had put himself in a situation where he was alone with her, and when they were together it was as if there was nobody else in the world. Their physical proximity, the occasional touch of gloved hands, a bumping of knees in the little pony cart, was as nothing to the feeling that in spirit they were so close as to meld into one being. When their eyes met it was as if she was in his arms, and yet he still attended Marianne in the manner of a suitor. It could only be that he was fighting his heart, and that his head told him that marriage to a cripple would be unthinkable. He might even assume that her injury prevented her, for some reason, bearing him an heir. Celia told herself it would be far better that he went away soon, and ended the torment, but at the same time she could not bear the thought of not seeing him again.
*
Lord Deben rose even earlier than his normal hour, and wrote a hasty note to the nearest posting inn, which was in Cirencester, requesting a vehicle in which to convey his beloved to her parents. He had debated whether departing before luncheon might seem impolite to his host and hostess, but came to the conclusion that arriving at Colonel Clandon’s door just as he sat down to his dinner would not endear him to that gentleman. Therefore leaving before noon, and taking a little refreshment upon the road, was a better idea. Being naturally modest, it did not occur to Lord Deben that the arrival of a young man of title with unimpeachable manners and excellent prospects, seeking to marry their daughter, might put thoughts of food from the heads of both her parents.
Whilst most of the preparations for their joint departure did not affect the young couple, they spent a considerable time in making their farewells and thanks. Sarah ensured that Marianne Burton had her address, although Marianne cogently noted that it would not be many months before she must be sent a new and different address, and name. Sarah smiled at this, and confided that the idea of being called Lady Deben as yet felt alien.
‘You will become used to it in a trice, and I shall write you lots of letters, but expect replies.’ Marianne’s pleasure was unaffected and she did not for one moment regret that it was not her hand being sought first.
Secretly, Sarah thought that from what she had heard of Marianne’s writing style from Celia, and her own knowledge of the young lady, interpreting the letters might delay any replies, but she promised to be a faithful correspondent.
Mr Mardham said goodbye to his friend with a degree of melancholy, being of the opinion that marriage would mean Deben never coming to Town, and being surrounded in short order by a plethora of children. Lord Deben’s assurance that it would probably be Christmas before the knot was tied, and that he had every intention of bringing his new bride to London for the Season in the spring, did little to solace him.
‘It is more likely that you will become sick of the sight of us, dear fellow. What with Mi … my Sarah being a connection of yours, and now a friend of your sister, we shall most likely be under your feet here at Meysey to the point where you think we haunt the place.’ Lord Deben did not want his friend feeling dismal when he was in alt.
This improved Mr Mardham’s mood to a degree. Celia was saying something quite similar to Sarah.
‘You must, absolutely must, come and see us when you are making bride visits, and if you can spare us the time from the whirl of Society you will always be welcome here. I shall miss you.’
Sarah still thought that Celia herself would not be living at Meysey by the following year, but forbore pressing the point.
*
Having waved the couple off, rather more as though they had just been married than were going to request permission to marry, the party adjourned for luncheon feeling a little flat.
The only person to take active pleasure in the departure of Sarah Clandon and Lord Deben was Miss Darwen, who went about with a smug look as if she had driven them away with intent. The only problem of which she was aware was a marked disinclination upon the part of all the other guests to listen to her pearls of wisdom, which was one way of looking at the fact that they ignored her. Of course her own situation had not materially improved, since Lord Levedale had proved such a disappointment to her. In fact the more she thought about it the more his disaffection rankled. What
had been her aim became, in her mind, her right. He would have come about and paid court to her, and it was a combination of his own gullibility and the devious nature of Celia Mardham that had brought about what Mama might see as failure. The Cripple, unable to attract a man by honest means, had played upon her disability to make Levedale pity her, like some bird with a broken wing, and, like a fool, he had fallen into the trap. Well, if he was that foolish, he was unworthy, and she regretted wasting her time upon him.
*
Lady Mardham was relieved the young couple had gone, though she was conveniently coming to believe the self-deception that it was down to her that the romance had blossomed. However, their presence was a depressing reminder that poor Celia was not yet betrothed. The fact that she had received an offer that Lady Mardham had generally encouraged, and refused it, was set aside. Overall, her ladyship was tending to the pessimistic, and in such a mood needed an outlet for her feelings.
She found one conveniently in Mrs Wombwell. That lady was herself increasingly low-spirited, since she was watching her son making every effort to achieve a disastrous marriage, and for no better reason than the chit was uncommonly pretty. It was incomprehensible.
The two ladies retired to one of the smaller saloons after luncheon and reminisced about their own successes as debutantes, which solaced them both. However, after a while, Lady Mardham sighed.
‘My poor Celia,’ she murmured. ‘When you think what Cora Clandon’s daughter has achieved, it is most unfair. Not that Celia’s hand has been unsought, but she has not received an offer that I could consider suitable.’
‘Sir Marcus Cotgrave?’ Mrs Wombwell was fairly certain, but it was nice to be sure.
‘Alas, too old. I told Celia so. But if the Burton girl can attract suitors with her background, you must be able to understand that I find Celia’s lack of success most trying. I mean, she is really rather a beautiful girl, if one does not see the … so sad. I really ought not to tell you, but you are such a close friend, and I know you will not breathe a word, but Mardham’s Papa made the most peculiar stipulation in his Will.’
Lady Mardham then revealed the worry, indeed dread, that Aurelia Blaby’s daughter would claim the inheritance, and make her Mama even more insufferable. Since Mrs Wombwell had no liking for Lady Blaby, she could concur wholeheartedly that it was ‘an Awful Thought’.
‘And thirty thousand, you say?’
‘Yes. Not that one would wish to attract fortune hunters, of course, but if it could be known I am sure many gentlemen could overlook poor Celia’s problem for the sake of thirty thousand pounds.’
‘Quite.’ Mrs Wombwell, herself comfortably off, could still sympathise, and be impressed at the figure.
‘I mean, if Deben could ignore Sarah Clandon being as poor as a church mouse, and that her ears had a tendency to stick out a little, did you not notice, and calling her “passable” is generous, Celia ought to be a great success still.’
Maria Wombwell’s sympathy was very soothing.
*
Mr Wombwell found himself less than well disposed towards Lord Levedale. Whilst he was no longer chasing The Money Pot, he appeared to have made the girl very cautious. There was thus, at this very late stage, still no sign that she had any inclination to succumb to The Wombwell Charm. It hurt his pride, and with Quarter Day upon him, Mr Wombwell knew that his return to London would be marked with a shower of insistent, and increasingly threatening, letters from his creditors. As a mark of his desperation, he had even started drawing up a list of wealthy widows who might lap up his flattery, and be forthcoming with the readies, even if he could avoid having to actually marry one of them.
He encountered his parent mid-afternoon, and his expression of discontent made her heart bleed for him.
‘My poor boy.’
Mr Wombwell enjoyed being the object of maternal pity as much as having a peal rung over him. His frown deepened.
‘Really, Mama, there is no need …’
‘But there is. I am so distressed at the way you have, despite my strongest recommendations, continued after the Burton girl. If only you had done as I hoped.’
‘Which was?’
‘Given consideration to poor Celia Mardham. You would now be thirty thousand pounds to the better, not that it ought to signify, but even so …’
‘Thirty thousand pounds?’ Mr Wombwell’s eyes nearly started from their sockets.
‘Oh, I ought not to tell you, in one way, but …’ It did not stop her for a moment, and it left his brain reeling. Miss Burton was worth more, in the long term, but thirty thousand, assured and without delay, would fund his pressing debts and make other creditors turn a blind eye to his dilatory payments in the hope of future custom. That limp was truly repulsive, but he would not have to live with it much. He could settle his bride with his Mama, pop home occasionally, and otherwise carry on as normal. It had potential. The problem lay in time. As he saw it, the party would be breaking up by the end of the week, and Levedale’s interest, which he had previously seen as an advantage, put the man once again in his way. What he needed was to remove Levedale as a rival and impress Miss Mardham, swiftly.
His frown remained, but now it was one of deep thought.
*
In blissful ignorance of the degree of antipathy which their relationship aroused, Lord Levedale suggested going out driving as a way of cheering Miss Mardham up, after the departure of her companion. He did not actually mention the word ‘lesson’, however.
‘Oh, you must not think I am less than delighted for Sarah, and indeed for Lord Deben, sir. They are so well suited, and it is only that I will miss Sarah which occasions my slight lowness of spirits.’ She thought it also an excellent cover for the true reason.
‘There is Miss Burton.’ He was thinking of her being unhappy at having Miss Darwen as a companion.
‘Yes, there is.’ Celia was still in two minds about Marianne. There was nothing that the poor girl had done which would jeopardise their friendship, except attract the man sat opposite her in the pony cart. It had not been something of her making, and Celia felt guilty at her own cool feelings towards her erstwhile schoolfriend. Lord Levedale saw the slight crease between Celia’s brows.
‘Is there something troubling you, Miss Mardham? If there is any way in which I might help …’
Celia shook her head. She could scarcely say ‘fall in love with me, please’.
‘I think perhaps also I have, despite the Awful Miss Darwen, enjoyed having guests here, and the anticipation of the party breaking up, with two members already gone, is not conducive to high spirits, sir.’ It was as close as she could get to the truth.
‘Yes. I too will be sorry, very sorry.’ He wanted to speak up, but without having cleared himself with Miss Burton it felt wrong. Tomorrow, yes, tomorrow he would be free to make his feelings known. At the moment, however, it was better to change the subject. ‘You note, Miss Mardham, that I am not giving any criticism or advice upon your handling of the ribbons.’
‘Yes, sir, I had noticed. That may of course be because you have decided it is a lost cause.’ The dimple indicated that Miss Mardham did not consider this likely.
‘There is that,’ responded Lord Levedale, his face impassive. ‘Is this the point where you think I may beg you to deny even having driven out with me, and claim it was with Mr Wombwell?’
She dimpled further, and asked if he would be brave enough to complete three circuits of the park with her.
*
Miss Burton, keen to avoid Miss Darwen, went to write another letter to her Papa. She thought perhaps it would be the last before sending a note that she would be coming home. There was much to say, what with the fire, and the strange incident with the pendant, and the Romance.
My dearest Papa,
I do not think it will be long before you have me once more at your side because the visit seems to be coming to an end. Two people have already departed but I will tell you about that later. We have had
quite an exciting time these last few days and not entirely nice. I do not know if you suffered from a thunderstorm three nights past but it was awful here and Lady Corfemullen fainted and Miss Darwen had hysterics and Lady Mardham hit her which was a very good thing. A tree close to the house was struck by lightning and split right into two parts of which one fell onto the billiards room roof and we were so lucky. The gentlemen all went out with Lord Mardham and the servants to prevent the fire from spreading by using a ladder. Mr Mardham and Lord Levedale got upon the roof and pulled the top of the burning tree so that it fell onto the ground. Mr Mardham fell off the roof too but it was not far and he had a sprained ankle and buckets of water were thrown at it. Lord Deben was also very brave in rescuing Mr Mardham and so Celia and Sarah Clandon and I became nurses and got water and cloths and things and all the little injuries were cared for. It was very frightening but exciting at the same time.
The next day Miss Darwen thought her pendant had been stolen but nobody would want to steal such a dismal jewel I promise you. Lord Deben thought it was ravens. She was most unpleasant about it and hinted that Celia was the thief which was silly because Celia could not climb a drainpipe.
In the end Lord Levedale found the pendant under a plant stand by Miss Darwen’s chamber and everyone was happy except I think Miss Darwen. This must be because of the slap in the face disordering her wits. Lady Mardham came to dinner I mean old Lady Mardham from the Dower House. She is most formidable and everyone is afraid of her I think but she was very gracious and nice to me because she did not say anything cutting.
Lord Deben has gone off with Sarah Clandon. They are very much in love and he wants to speak to her Papa so they went away before luncheon which was very nice but also a bit sad. I liked Sarah even though she was quiet and poor. It just shows that money and beauty do not guarantee that love will be forthcoming which I find in fact Papa quite heartening.
Bless Thine Inheritance Page 22