by Gay, Gloria
CHAPTER 9
It was a beautiful day and the little wood hummed with small life, from the buzzing of bees and wide swings of butterflies to rabbits and hares darting away at Celia’s approach and caterpillars crawling over branches. Summer had at last come to the woods. Celia held a walking stick in her right hand, for she had remembered Lord Robert’s suggestion that she carry a stick to fend off any fox that might become aggressive.
The sun hung high above, peeking through the branches of the trees, white and gleaming. And certain that Lord Robert was safely away in London, she decided to advance across the division between the little wood and on to the Shelton Forest. She might not have any right to Lord Robert, but she certainly had a right to indulge in happy memories of her times with him.
Celia hesitated before she crossed the wide field and the creek that separated the two estates and when she reached Crescent Meadow, as she now called it in her mind, and felt a rush of feeling as she saw the beautiful wildflower meadow in its glory. Robert was away, she repeated in her mind, so there was no danger of an accidental meeting.
There was a cool breeze, even as the summer had already started, for the shadowy trees kept the forest cool.
There was a heavy stillness with only the humming of the wind through the trees as she followed the main path that cut through them; then as she turned a bend in the path obscured by dense foliage, she came face to face with Robert Merrick.
Celia was so startled she was speechless, as her mouth almost dropped open. They stared at each other, at barely an arm’s length.
“Miss Meade!!” Robert finally said.
“He–hello, my lord,” Celia responded in a barely audible voice. The sudden sight of him had such a dizzying effect on her that she almost keeled over but managed to regain her balance.
“I so hoped you would come here today,” he said. “My wish came true!”
“There is a little arbor where the gamekeeper’s cottage is,” Robert said, “you seem a little overwrought from the exertion of your walk. Would you care to rest there for a while? Landrew is away today. He has gone to buy supplies. He spends all day at that, since he only goes once a month.”
Celia’s throat was tight. Her body sizzled at his nearness. Did he not care that if found there together they would be compromised, she thought, as her mind wrestled. She wanted very much to see the caretaker’s cottage with him but yet, how could she and still remain within the dictates of propriety if she did so? They had taken a chance already when they had a picnic in the wood by themselves.
As they walked toward the cottage, Celia convinced herself that as long as no one saw them together and alone, then it was as if it had not happened. And who on earth would see them here? As Robert had said, his gamekeeper, was the only one who would have seen them and he was away.
As Celia pondered her situation she felt her knees had treacherously turned to jelly and were threatened to topple her. Finally, they came to a picturesque cottage nestled among the trees which he told her doubled up as a small hunting box, for Landrew had a family and home in town.
Robert opened the door to the cottage with a key he took from his pocket and stood aside for her to pass.
Celia, still self-conscious in his presence, walked quietly into a large single room that served as kitchen and living area and looked up toward an open railed loft where there were two beds on which heavy woolen blankets gave forth an aura of cozy retirement. There was a large hearth that had the remains of a fire with soot-stained stones forming a semi-circle around it. Robert explained that the two large sofas doubled up as beds for his friends when he had a group of them over for a hunting party.
Robert led Celia to a chair at a square, sturdy table and asked her if she would like some tea. She was about to say no because such an answer would only extend the time she spent in his company but a mischievous genie at her ear told her that there was nothing in the world she would rather do.
“Yes, thank you.” She heard her words as if she were listening to a stranger.
“May I help you with this?” Robert took the sketch pad from under her arm that she had forgotten she carried and placed it on the table. He then went to light the fire for their tea.
No words passed between them as Robert became busy with arranging logs and starting the fire. Very soon the fire caught and the dim room lit up in a cheery glow. Celia could see Robert’s face in profile as he poked the fire. He was dressed in a red and blue plaid shirt, dark woolen jacket, hunter’s green breeches and Hessians to the knee.
She sighed as she saw him busy filling the kettle with water from a keg and measuring tea leaves. He then took two blue and white mugs from a shelf, set them on the table and smiled at Celia. Celia smiled back. It was so easy to smile at Robert.
He seemed at home in the place and knew where everything was kept. Celia had never seen a man engaged in such domestic occupations and he seemed even more endearing to her, if such a thing were possible, as he went about in his preparations.
If there was such a thing as paradise, thought Celia, this was it in essence: a blissful, forbidden paradise. She would never again be as happy as she was at this moment, with the warmth that was beginning to give forth from the fire warming her to a delicious shiver, the scent of pinecones and fir in the air and the woodsy feel of the cabin.
All that was left now for Robert to do was to wait for the water to boil and he came and sat in the sofa near Celia. He seemed at a loss for words, and stood up quickly. He fetched spoons and napkins from a drawer in the table from a cupboard. Celia gazed at him as he did this and when their glances met Robert smiled again at her.
“Have you enjoyed your walk,” he asked and his voice was strained. When she nodded he said, “I hope you will walk here often and I hope…”
Celia waited for him to go on and realized he must have been embarrassed that he had said the word ‘hope’ several times, for a blush was stealing up his neck and cheek and he turned away.
Celia looked at his hands and noticed that they trembled. On impulse she placed her hand over his. The connection was instant. She felt rays of pleasure stealing up her arms clear up to her brain, stunning her with a swirl of pleasure she had never felt before.
Robert took one of her hands and kissed it, slowly and as slowly he pulled her up with him and they embraced. His lips on her neck gave her a floating feeling and as he pressed her closer to him an explosion of feeling coursed in skipping waves along her skin and nerves.
“I love you, Celia,” he whispered in her ear and Celia turned her face so that his lips found hers quickly and the kiss was unlike anything Celia had felt in her life. “I have loved you since the first day I saw you in that awful black gown,” he whispered in her ear, making her smile widely. It was as if she became part of him. He kissed her again and his tongue sent waves of erotic pleasure throughout her body. His hand softly on her breast made her gasp and quietly he led her up to a bed in the loft.
Like a sleepwalker led by a force she was unable to resist, Celia walked up the wooden stairs to the loft with Robert behind her, and when they reached the wide bed and Robert nodded toward it, she lay down on it. She noted vaguely that Robert was taking off her boots and then her bonnet. She floated in a soft cloud as she heard Robert take off his boots and coat, then his cravat.
She knew she would never be alone with Robert again. And she also knew she could not turn away from the swirl of almost unbearable tremors that shook her body with unfamiliar pleasure. He did not insist she take her clothes off as he lay beside her after having taken off his boots. He put his arm under her head and pressed her close to him and Celia felt that she would never in her life feel as sheltered and loved as she was at this moment as she looked deep into Robert’s eyes.
Celia realized in the following stolen hour what ‘making love’ really meant. It wasn’t a stolen kiss and an embrace that quivered clear down to your toes and made you aware of your body in a different way for the first time in y
our life.
The twittering sound of birds, the soft meadow scents drifting in through the window and the scurrying sounds along the cottage wall of the forest creatures blended with Robert’s words near her ear as he took her to heights of sexual pleasure she had not known existed.
His hand along the contour of her breasts left trails of sensual delight and as he suckled the pink buds of her breasts she felt that inside the shelter of his arms nothing bad would ever happen to her.
He parted her legs and touched her where she had never been touched before. She trembled as his hand caressed her heated skin as pulsing pleasure shot along her nerve ends. He led her over a tide of rising passion to the mind-numbing brink so that she wondered if she could withstand such sudden ecstasy.
“We cannot go beyond this point, my sweet,” he whispered in her ear and his words brought Celia back to the reality of her life. “We must wait until we marry, which I hope will be soon. Celia, my darling, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”
Reality like a sheet of ice in a snow storm slashed at Celia and the coldness seeped into her heart. This happiness he spoke of was not for her. This passion had a price she could not pay: the eviction of her family.
She rearranged her clothes quickly, with jerky movements as she placed her legs down from the bed and her body to the sad reality of her life.
Unaware of the war within her, Robert got down from the bed quickly and went to her side. He took her hands in his.
“I can’t bear to go on without you,” he said. There was a question in his eyes at the sudden way she had come back to her cold reality and a tremor in his voice. “You do feel the same way about me, don’t you, Celia?”
Celia bit her lip from stopping herself from telling him that she loved him. “I love you with all my heart,” she said, but only in her mind, for to tell him would be to allow Caroline to destroy her family.
“Robert again reached toward her and pulled her up into his arms.
She allowed herself to be embraced but in her mind she had already said good-by. Her body might still be in his arms but her soul had left him some moments ago, for she could not have him.
She would never place herself again in a situation where she could destroy her family.She swerved drunkenly and sat back on the edge of the bed. Such was the effect his love-making and kisses had on her.
“I love you, Celia. Will you marry me? You have not answered,” Robert again asked as he reached to her. She shook her head and turned away from him and stared at the fire as she re-arranged her clothing with jerky movements, for she had little control over her hands as she was trembling all over.
When Robert repeated his words for a third time, a catch in his voice, Celia stopped him. “Please…” Celia’s voice caught at her throat as she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, “…please refrain from such words. There is no possible way that I can return your affection. I cannot marry you.”
“No possible way?” Robert asked, stunned, disbelieving.
“Why, Celia?” Robert’s voice was wooden now, while the kettle hissed in protest.
Celia felt her heart lie like a hard little stone inside of her. She was trying with all her might to keep the faces of her mother, sister and brother before her as she did the most difficult thing she had ever been asked to do in her life, which was, to reject the only man she would ever love in this world.
His dark blue eyes, staring at her seared her with their pain.
“I thought…you felt the same way about me as I feel about you.”
“I’m sorry, Robert, I cannot marry you,” said Celia, knowing that such a love could not be left half dead and barely breathing. A knife must be plunged into its heart, to finish the job completely.
There was no future for their love.
She gazed up at Robert and saw that he looked as though he had just received a blow. He said not a word now. The blue in his eyes was not the warm dark blue she loved. They had changed before her eyes. They had become like windows that reflected a winter blue sky but revealed nothing. He shook his head. Then he stood up.
Celia stood up too, with a last glance at the cups and plates he had arranged at the table.
“I must go,” Celia said, turning toward the door. The only chance of happiness she had ever had now lay in shards around her.
Robert walked silently before her and opened the door to let her out.
She glanced up at him one last time, looked deeply into his eyes, and then walked out.
CHAPTER 10
When Celia reached the house she was out of breath, but she still forced herself to run up the stairs to her room and lock the door behind her. She felt a harrowing pain in her heart and a white, hot light before her, blinding her to the objects in her room. For a long time she stood staring in front of her, sitting at the edge of the bed. Then, when twilight fell, the tears finally began to flow and she was able to fall asleep from sheer physical exhaustion.
Margaretta had sent Bella to look after her sister and ask her if she were coming down to dinner. Celia told Bella she had a headache and to excuse her with the family. She wanted only to be left alone with her sorrow. She remembered the ball that was to be held the next day and felt the heaviness of fate upon her, oppressing her almost beyond endurance.
She had considered every angle, even before Robert had declared his love to her. But no matter how many times she had churned it in her mind, it came back to the same thing.
Like a trapped fox she sought a way that would allow her an escape from her commitment to her uncle and to Robert’s arms. But there was none. They would be tossed out of the home in which her mother and her brother and sister lived as they had dreamed for years and all would be for naught, for how long would Robert remain an ardent suitor if he had to call on Celia in some seedy area of London like Spitalfields or even worse, Seven Dials?
How strong can a love be that is put to such a test?
And then a terrible realization that she had led Robert on only to let him drop settled on her like lead. She examined her actions. Often there had been a war within her and a denial, but had they reflected themselves in her actions? With a heavy pall ringing on her ears she realized that however tumultuous the battles in her heart had been she had capitulated.
On each occasion she had given in to the moment and enjoyed Robert’s company in a way that must have been very obvious to Robert that she welcomed his attraction to her. She squirmed as she recalled how she had welcomed Robert’s advances and returned it in kind, for she was in love with him and her eyes could not hide it.
She remembered the trip to London. She had known that Ellen’s intention was to throw her brother and Celia into each other’s company and she had gone along with it. Even her eyes must have reflected her growing attraction to him. The correct thing, if she did not mean to welcome Robert’s suit, was to avoid occasions in which they would be able to be together.
Instead, like a common flirt, she had gone headlong into it, knowing full well what the outcome must be. She had allowed his feeling toward her to grow, rather than check it in time. Why? Because it was what she most wanted although she knew she must retreat from the very brink.
And then the gamekeeper’s cottage. Celia’s eyes flooded with tears.
She felt oppression in her chest as she realized that whatever grief he now felt was caused heedlessly by her. If she could only have her grief alone to deal with. But now she must also have his, and be the cause of it.
With a sinking lead weight in her heart, she realized that eventually, his love and regard would turn to contempt and he would judge her harshly, believing that she had led him on, without care for his feelings. He would recall how she had let him touch her in the cottage and how close they had been to the actual act. And it was Robert, and not she, who had stopped them! Was he now thinking ill of her because of it? This churned and churned in her head and gave her the headache.
* * *
The day of the ball
finally came around, after a long night in which Celia slept only a few hours, close to dawn. She got up and determined that she would concentrate on the details of the ball and help her mother in every possible manner so that she would not have a moment’s idle rest in which to let her thoughts take over.
While she was having tea in her room, too tired to face anyone at the breakfast room, Nellie came in with her sketch pad and handed it to her.
“Lord Merrick came by to leave this for you, Miss Celia,” she said.
“Did he stop for long?”
“No, Miss Meade, he was very quick about it, hardly got off his horse but he was back on it again and racing away. I happened to be just going out the door on an errand for Miss Bella when he spotted me and called out. ‘Give this to Miss Meade for me, will you?’ That was all the words he used and seemed in a hurry to be off.”
“Thank you, Nellie.” Celia’s voice was almost inaudible. The sting of tears was quick to come again and she turned to the window, away from Nellie’s gaze. Amazing how tears were ready at the mere mention of his name. She must learn to control herself or she would soon have the whole neighborhood in on her secret.
* * *
Celia had never seen her mother in a happier mood. She had everything under control and seemed to expand with the bustle and preparation and on being consulted by the housekeeper and the butler on everything from flowers to candles and food.
“Celia, my dear,” she said happily, “there isn’t anything I have ever organized with more joy than this ball.”
“Tell me what you want me to do, Mama. You have a helper that is eager to be of use.”
“Your help is needed in countless things, my dear. You must help me decide where to put these small tables. Should they go by the windows or by the chairs over here?”
“The chairs, I think,” said Celia, and summoned two footmen to move them.
They spent a pleasant hour when the flowers arrived, buckets of early lilies and tea roses that they arranged in large vases brought in by the maids.