by Gay, Gloria
Ellen knocked on Celia’s bedroom door and the girls embraced again. They sat for an hour while Ellen related her adventures at Farley Hall, and brought the story alive for Celia.
“Not only was Sir Hugh’s condition extreme,” Ellen told Celia, “but the urgency of the moment was at times almost unbearable. You see, his grandson’s remains were to be shipped back to the hall, and Sir Hugh was in no condition to manage anything himself. I was happy to make the arrangements for that, as well as the arrangements for the burial. So many things must be dealt with and in such an atmosphere of bereavement, Celia, that I wondered afterward how your mother and I were able to manage it at all.”
“I’m convinced you were invaluable, Ellen,” Celia said. “I’m sure most of the work fell on your shoulders. I love Mama dearly, but I know that without you there she would have been overwhelmed, as she is not equipped by character to deal with a crisis.”
“Your mother’s contribution to the emotional side was of equal value, dear,” Ellen assured Celia, “for she was tireless in her wish to put Sir Hugh’s mind at ease and kept him informed of each step we took. He wanted her at his bedside, fearful of his coming death. Your mother complied, although I could see exhaustion in her face and at times I insisted she be relieved, at least during the times when Sir Hugh drifted off to sleep.”
“How can I ever thank you and Robert for all your help?”
“I’m glad we were able to be of service to you,” said Ellen. “Your trip to Squireville and the length of time you remained there saddened us both and I wondered if either Robert or I had done something to distance you from us.”
“Celia shook her head. “I’m so sorry you got that impression, Ellen. I—I only needed to get away for a while, to think about certain things in perspective. And I regret terribly that I didn’t take the time to write you a long letter and explain this to you. I hope you will forgive me, for I value your friendship!”
They turned next to Bella’s elopement. Ellen’s eyes widened as Celia re-enacted for her the night’s terrible events and their shock at finding Bella alone in a third-rate hotel.
And when they exhausted that subject Ellen once more went back to the events at Farley Hall.
“I’m so happy Farley Hall now belongs to you and your family, Celia.”
“It’s sad that it should have been through a tragedy of such proportion,” Celia said, “but I would be dishonest if I did not confess that I’m happy that we shall not be dependent on Uncle Worth anymore. Although the income is not a great one, combined with the income we had when Uncle Worth brought us to Rook’s end it will be sufficient. You don’t know, Ellen, how it feels to be independent once again.”
After her sojourn with Mrs. Meade, where the two ladies were in each other’s company for many hours during the course of one week, Ellen had become acquainted with the family’s history and through Mrs. Meade’s words had come to realize that Celia’s courage had saved the family and pulled them through a crisis that would have thrown any other family into dispersal and chaos.
“Your mother confided in me about the meeting Caroline had with you, your mother and her father, Celia. I wonder Caroline had the gall to try to prevent a friendship between you and my brother,” said Ellen, and added, “Celia, I have suspected for some time that Caroline was the reason you left Rook’s End so suddenly. I wish you had confided in me, dear. I so wish to be your friend!”
“You’re right, Ellen,” said Celia. “Caroline had all the cards in her hand when she called a meeting with her father, Mama and me. Uncle Worth stated Caroline’s wishes clearly. I was ordered to stop any contact with your brother or risk having us all evicted from Rook’s End.
“My only recourse was to remove myself from the estate in the hope that while I was gone, at least, Caroline would stop harassing Mama and Bella.”
“Caroline has pursued Robert for the past two years, Celia, and I can assure you, even had she managed to remove you and your family from Rook’s End permanently it would have meant nothing to Robert, for he would have followed you to wherever you went.”
“Even to a third-rate boarding house in London, Ellen?”
“Yes, my dear,” Ellen’s eyes filled with tears, “even to there. Robert is not one to shy away from the woman he’s in love with because adversity befell her. But knowing you, Celia, I know that you felt you would let your family down if you did not acceded to Caroline’s wishes.”
“But know this, Celia,” Ellen added, giving Celia a hug. “Love always triumphs!
“Have you been in touch with Caroline?” Ellen asked.
“Certainly not. Caroline and I have little contact, Ellen. From the first Caroline shunned us. I’m sure you must have noticed this.”
“I have found out there was involvement on the part of Caroline, concerning Bella’s elopement.”
“Yes,” Celia agreed, “Unfortunately there is. Jack said it for all to hear when we stopped the duel.”
“She wanted to discredit your family?”
“Yes, Ellen, that was her reason. She has been against us living at the house from the very beginning.”
“I was a monstrous thing for her to do and if that was her reason then it was doubly so. It seems easy for Caroline to play with peoples’ lives to advance her wishes.
“When applying for my assistance, your mother mentioned that she had asked Caroline for help and that Caroline denied her help and was very rude,” Ellen confided. “She left for Bath shortly after. Perhaps she wanted to be away so that she would not be suspected of involvement.”
“Yes,” Celia said, “I came to the same conclusion in examining her actions. But as always, in such plots, something always goes badly. She had no idea that Jack would change his mind at the last moment or that in being pressed into a duel he would confess before a group of people that the elopement had been Caroline’s idea and that he had changed his mind.”
“Caroline’s still in Bath with my sisters,” said Ellen. “I’m afraid Julia is taken in by her wiles and flattery. I have spoken on several occasions to Julia about this but she refuses to listen. Julia and I have never been close, as we are poles apart in character. I went to Rook’s End very seldom before you came to live there, Celia.”
“Is Caroline aware of all that’s happened?” Celia asked.
“Perhaps Jack has been in touch with her. If she knows anything at all it will not have been through me. I seldom correspond with Julia, and Sally and Mary are not great correspondents. Both Robert and I think that whatever news we disclose to them will best be told when they return from Bath, in a fortnight, from what Julia said in her letter.”
“I’m certain Caroline, if she learns anything about the outcome of the elopement and the fact that Jack did not bother to keep secret her part in it will not be too anxious to return, or shorten her stay.”
The girls parted that night each with many thoughts and events to think over when they were alone and glad that they had renewed their friendship.
* * *
Caroline continued unaware of the events that had shaken the lives of the Meade family.
Eventually, though, she received a scribbled note from Jack in which he disclosed he had called off the elopement in the middle of it and that he had been brought to the brink of a duel for his action. Jack gave her no details of the duel other than to say that it had been Fred who had challenged him. And shortly after, the uncle on whom he depended, appalled at his nephew’s actions, purchased for him a far post commission in India, and was long gone before Caroline returned from Bath.
Seething with anger after receiving Jack’s letter, Caroline was not too anxious to shorten her stay in Bath.
Tom found Caroline’s actions deplorable and he was too ashamed of her to even take pen to paper and put it down in writing. He had no contact with Fred, for now, for Fred, overwhelmed by the tasks left to him by Sir Hugh had no time for correspondence. Tom knew only that Mrs. Meade and Fred were gone to Farley Hall to atten
d a dying relative.
And as the days went by, Bella’s condition improved and she was, one sunny afternoon, well enough to be carried with her chair to the garden where a romance soon began to blossom between her and Liddell Welsh.
CHAPTER 22
“Celia,” said Ellen one day as the girls sat with their embroidery in the garden, keeping an eye on the two young lovers, “now that you can no longer be worried about Bella, could we not repeat an afternoon that once gave me great pleasure?”
It was now ten days since she and Bella had arrived at the house and she knew that in less than a week Dr. Lorne would allow Bella to undertake the journey back to Rook’s end. Her mother and Fred were still at the hall and she corresponded daily with them.
Uncle Worth was to return from Liverpool at about the same time as they. She had decided that she and Bella would not remain in the house for more time than was needed to thank Uncle Worth for all his help and to pack their belongings; she would not spend one more day than was necessary in the same house as Caroline, whose actions had brought them such grief.
“What afternoon do you refer to, Ellen?”
“Why, don’t you remember that lovely day when we went to the botanical gardens and then afterwards to the museum? Did you not enjoy it as much as I?”
“Enjoy it! Ellen, that was probably one of the nicest days of my life.”
“Well, then, it’s settled. I shall speak to Robert about it. He has mentioned that now that Bella is better we might go out a little. He’s been so busy with his Parliamentary duties that he’s hardly been with us much. He feels you have been cooped up here for far too long. And by the way, I have been meaning to ask you, you would not mind if Maria came along. I’m afraid the poor dear feels neglected.
“I would be happy to have her come with us. I hope she does not feel I take too much of your time.”
“No, nothing of the kind,” Ellen assured her. “She’s very fond of you. That’s why I think we should include her.”
“And on which day have you decided?” Celia asked, trying to control the tremor of excitement in her voice.
“Is tomorrow a suitable day for you?”
“Yes—but Bella—”
“I have thought of that too,” Ellen replied, “Maria’s mother, Aunt Helen, has agreed to spend the day at the house and sit with Bella and attend to her. In that way we shall not deprive Liddell of one single day of Bella’s company. I’m certain he would never forgive us.”
“In that case there is nothing to hold us.” Celia’s pulse had quickened at the prospect.
“We shall now start planning on what we’re going wear. And I hope you shall not deprive me of helping you with your toilette, Celia, for I do so long to arrange your hair. With all these troubles you have not taken any care about your appearance, other than to appear well-groomed.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Celia smiled in agreement.
The following morning Ellen asked Celia if she would come to her bedroom that she had something to show her.
“I have,” added Ellen, “a beautiful walking gown recently delivered that does not fit, nor does it look well on me. It’s really a lovely dress. Its rich bottle green is just right for your hair color and complexion, dearest. Will you allow me to make a gift of it to you?”
“Thank you, Ellen, I’m anxious to see it,” Celia said with a wide smile.
“Then let us go indoors and call Mrs. Pratt to chaperone these two.”
“It’s a beautiful gown,” said Celia, glancing at herself in the mirror. It was luxurious and becoming. “But surely it must cost a fortune. Did Mrs. Manley sew it?”
“No, of course it did not cost a fortune, Celia,” Ellen replied quickly, fearing Celia might change her mind about wearing the walking dress. She hoped she would be forgiven her small by evasion fib, letting Celia assume Mrs. Manley had sewn it, for she dared not let Celia know that the dress had been made at one of the most expensive shops in London and of the finest materials available.
“You look stunning,” she told Celia.
Celia thanked Ellen and hugged her warmly.
“It’s getting close to the hour Robert will come to fetch us.” Ellen said and brought out the seed pearl pins and the comb. “Let me do your hair, Celia.”
* * *
Robert waited for the girls downstairs in the hall. Ellen came down first and kept him company. Soon Maria arrived with her mother and the atmosphere eased a little. Ellen could tell her brother was extremely tense and ill-at-ease. She hoped her careful plans would not go amiss. She and Maria would keep each other company so that Robert and Celia might have a chance to talk to each other.
When Celia came down the stairs Robert had drawn his breath at sight of her.
After saying good bye to them and wishing them a happy afternoon, Maria’s mother retired to her tea.
The group boarded the carriage and Ellen kept up the conversation with Maria while Robert and Celia listened in silence. London was alive with sounds but the day, which had started out with sunshine had darkened and there was a fine drizzle that kept steady even after they had arrived at the botanical gardens. The place was almost deserted, for the rain had kept the visitors away. The group walked into the large building and commented on how pleasant it was to have the place to themselves, for the last time they had come there had been a throng.
The lanes, which accommodated only two at a time, forced the group into two abreast, with Celia and Robert in front and Ellen conversing quietly with her cousin behind them.
For a while Celia and Robert walked in silence, tensely aware of each other. Celia was aware of the exotic plants only as a green blur.
Ellen and Maria fell farther behind as Ellen stopped to admire plants, giving the pair ahead an opportunity to speak in relative privacy.
At first, Robert’s voice was strained, and Celia’s responses equally so. But little by little they began to feel at ease in each other’s company.
They had reached a fountain where there were comfortable benches around and where on their other visit Celia and Ellen had stopped to rest.
“This is such a nice fountain,” Ellen said when all four stopped.
“Shall we sit here a while?” Robert asked her, knowing that Ellen tired easily.
“You go ahead,” said his sister, “I’m not tired as yet and I want to show Maria some exotic plants. We’ll return shortly.”
Ellen and Maria walked away arm in arm and Robert and Celia sat on one of the benches to await their return.
“Would you rather go with them, Celia?” Robert asked.
“I think I’d like to sit here for a while,” Celia replied. “It’s so pleasant just to be among these beautiful plants. It feels as though we are in a jungle.”
“A jungle is much denser and there is such a heavy humid air about it that is very different from this hothouse atmosphere. I think you would like it.”
“You have been to the jungle?”
“Yes, the jungle in India.”
“Tell me about it, Robert, I would so like to hear about your experiences there.”
When Robert began to recall his journey to India Celia stole a glance at his profile. Robert looked steadfastly before him as he spoke, only now and then glancing at her and away from her as he emphasized words. Celia noticed that his dark brown hair curled a little in disarray around his ears and that the dark blue of his eyes, to which she was drawn to as a beacon, pulled her to him as he too turned and stopping mid-sentence gazed into her eyes. And this time he did not look away. Nor did Celia.
They had been sitting on the bench half turned to each other, each with an arm resting on the back of the bench and there was now a palpable silence between them. Robert then looked down at Celia’s hand, where there was not a single ring, and slowly, gently, covered her hand with his; then his fingers closed around hers.
For a few moments they stood still, looking down at their clasped hands as though afraid that the fragile connec
tion might disappear like a mirage. They both stood up as if in accord and the chasm that had gaped between them was no more, as the distance disappeared in the crash of their embrace. Celia felt Robert’s lips hard against hers and knew then that even if they should be parted again, their spiritual union could never be dissolved.
She looked into his eyes as they separated and saw still in his eyes, through the mists in her mind that in his look there was still a plea. That he should still think she might not love him! She remembered that in the wood the weight of the moment had been on him.
“I have loved you from the first moment I saw you,” she said.
“Then why…”
“At the time I could not do anything that might endanger my family’s living. We were entirely dependent on Uncle Worth and little enough welcome in his house by anyone other than him. Caroline had called a meeting with her father and Mama and me. I was to avoid any contact with you or Ellen. If I didn’t, Caroline promised she would make life miserable for our family and we would be forced to leave.”
“It would have been better if I had known the reason, Celia,” Robert said, shaking his head. “I imagined—oh, God, what I imagined!”
“Yes, Robert,” Celia said with sadness in her eyes. “I promised myself that when I was free to disclose the reason why I rejected your love I would do so, for I felt you had mistaken it or that you thought I took your love lightly. But I could not place you in a position where you would have to take in my whole family when you had enough in your hands just taking care of your father.”
“I can’t imagine what Caroline was thinking,” he said. “You can’t make someone love you if they won’t. I have never been attracted to her and now I know why. She was not someone I would ever consider for marriage even before I met you. And after I met you that was all I wanted, for you to be in my life, always.”
“I felt I had no right to place my family’s living in jeopardy. You don’t understand how hard it was for us after Father died. I wanted to do as Caroline asked so that my family’s living would not be in jeopardy…”