What About Cecelia?

by Amelia Grace Treader

  “Still, it is Byron. Even his older poems are worth repeated examination.”

  Lady Elizabeth intoned, “I like Mr. Landor's work. It is so monumental and learned. Not like this modern romantic claptrap.”

  Cecelia replied, “I like Mr. Landor better than his poetry. He's one of my neighbors and been so helpful with Mr. Wood. If I have a problem on the farm, he's always there to help.”

  “Is that implied criticism of his poetry?”

  “Oh no! Not at all. I've just had a surfeit of it. He'll recite his poetry for any reason at any time. Occasionally it gets rather tedious.”

  Georgie spoke, “I can't believe that a surfeit of poetry is possible.”

  “Oh, trust me. It is.”

  Sir Charles changed the subject, “How is Captain Wood, by the way? I should write to Fitzroy soon, and I'm sure he would like to hear of him.”

  “He's still a bit disturbed, poor man. Much better than when he arrived. Now he's staying sober.”

  “I hope he's not one of those blasted tea-totalers. Can't abide them.”

  “I didn't mean that. Just when we met he was always drunk, even in the mornings. Now he isn't.”

  Dinner was a struggle for Cecelia. The dining room, with its long polished table, footmen, bright chandeliers and elegant service, was a far cry from the modest fittings at home in Penyclawdd. There was usually one course at Penyclawdd, and a place setting with limited utensils. It was a good meal, but served simply. Even a simple family meal at the Somersets involved several courses and a complex etiquette for the different eating utensils and glasses. Cecelia was completely lost, but fortunately no one seemed to notice her missteps. Or at least if they did they were too kind to remark on them.

  Until later. Sir Charles and his wife Elizabeth discussed the Cecelia's performance before they retired for the night. Unlike so many of their peers, they had made a love match. They were still in love these many years later and unconventionally still shared the same bed.

  “At least she didn't eat with her fingers.”

  “Are you sure she is a suitable companion for Georgie?”

  “Oh yes, but I do think we'll have to teach her better manners.”

  “And that dress, how dreadful. Like it was pieced together at random.”

  “Funny thing that. Did you notice she came back from riding that horrible mare wearing Captain Wood's coat?”

  “No, but what of it?”

  “I think her habit was ruined. She is wearing what she, that Arnold female and Mrs. Landor pieced together.”

  “But still, Charles, she seems so untutored.”

  “She is. Poor Sir Giles, he lost his wife so young and then because of his health he couldn't bring his daughter into society like he should have. She comes from good stock, but she's lived away from society for so long.”

  “I suppose you're right. Did I hear correctly that she's planning a visit to Bath soon?”

  “That Jane Arnold and Captain Wood will take her there, to find a husband.”

  “Then perhaps it is a godsend that she is visiting us. Can we give her some polish and perhaps buff out a few of the roughest edges?”

  “I hope so. I do want to see what she can do for Georgie.”

  “I wish you would refer to our daughter as Mary.”

  “I'll try. She likes being called Georgie.”

  “Her name is Mary.”

  “Yes, my love.”

  “If Miss Wood can teach Mary to be comfortable on horseback, I'll do what I can about her appearance and manners. It's something of a pity that the awful Arnold woman has ensnared Captain Wood into matrimony. Somehow, I can't see Miss Wood staying with them for very long after they're married.”

  I wonder how Captain Wood puts up with her.”

  “Who?”

  “Miss Arnold.”

  Sir Charles wasn't the only one wondering about Captain Wood as they prepared for bed. Cecelia found herself in a spare bedroom, using a borrowed brush to brush out her hair while the maid warmed her bed with a warming pan. “I wonder what he's doing now.”

  “Who Miss?”

  Cecelia replied out loud, “Oh, no one,” while thinking of Captain Wood. She continued, “I wonder if he misses me?”

  “If it's no one, Miss, why should he?”

  Cecelia shook her head, “I'm sorry, my mind is wandering. I must be tired.”

  “If you say so Miss. Your bed is warm and well-aired, if you'd like to retire.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lady Elizabeth received a shock when she emerged from her room in mid-morning to break her fast. Her butler caught her attention, “Ma'am, Miss Wood is missing. Did she leave word with you?”

  “Missing?”

  “She wasn't in her room when her maid went to bring her morning chocolate.”

  “She didn't say anything to me or Sir Charles about leaving. Was the rest of her kit still there?”

  “I can't say, since she borrowed most of it.”

  “Maybe Mary will know something.”

  At breakfast neither Mary Georgiana, nor Sir Charles nor Charlotte Augusta, nor Charles Henry and finally not even Villiers knew anything about where Cecelia was. Sir Charles was about to mount a search party when Cecelia walked into the room. She was more than slightly redolent of the stables. Seeing them all staring at her, she stuttered out, “I-I-I was looking at your horses. Seeing the barns and stables. Your groom reluctantly showed me Mary's horse and one I could borrow. Is anything wrong?”

  “Is that what you always do?”

  “Check the animals first thing in the morning? Of course. It's the best time of the day to do it, while they're still calm and cool.”

  “But Miss Wood, isn't that what your groom does?”

  “Yes, and like yours he's an excellent groom, but there are decisions about the stock that he shouldn't make by himself. Besides, this way I get to know the animals.”

  “So early, have you eaten?”

  “No, not yet. Is that bacon I smell?”

  Young master Charles Henry tried to comment, sotto vocce, that he was surprised she could even smell the bacon with such a strong stench of horse coming from her clothing.

  Cecelia heard him and replied, “I can always sit at the far end of the table, if you'd prefer. But I thought this afternoon would be a good one for a long excursion, say to the top of Holy Mountain, and people who don't like the smell of horses can't come with Georgie and me.”

  Lady Elizabeth interjected, “I presume you've washed before you came back from the stables?”

  “Oh yes. I always do after leaving the animals. At home I keep one garment just for working the horses. I hope you've sent for my clothes, because I will need to change for dinner tonight.”

  “We did last night, they should be here today.”

  “Thank you. Even I can smell the horses on this one.”

  Mary asked, “Don't you like the smell of horses?”

  “I do, but there is a limit.”

  “I'm glad to hear it. It won't do in Bath.”

  “I know. When would you be ready to go, Georgie?”

  Lady Elizabeth frowned, “I detest that slang name. Please call her Mary.”

  Cecelia was more at her ease during breakfast. Lady Elizabeth noted with approval that her manners were not as rough as she had thought them. As the last drops of the tea were being consumed, she told her daughter to go and get ready. Then she reminded her sons that they had lessons to attend to. Cecelia rose and was about to take her leave so she could go to the stables, when Lady Elizabeth asked her to sit.

  “I have a few questions for you Miss Wood.”

  “Yes?”

  “I understand that the plan is for Miss Arnold, Captain Wood and you to visit Bath in a few weeks?”

  “Yes it is. I'm very excited because the last time I was in Bath was ten years ago when I was only eight.”

  “And Mary will be lending you her continence during your visit?”

  “I hop
e to see her there. It's not as if I know many people in Bath.”

  “Hmmn. Can you dance?”

  “A little. Although I haven't had a chance to visit the Abergavenny assemblies since my father died.”

  “I see. So your steps will be a little, how shall I say it? Rusty?”

  Cecelia laughed, “Not just rusty, but rustic as well. I doubt though that I'll be called upon to dance very often, just being a plain country girl.”

  “I wouldn't call you plain, Miss Wood. If Charles Henry were Mary's age I'd be worrying about him paying too much attention to you. However, you will need better clothes, if that dress is anything like the rest of your wardrobe. It makes you look like a frumpy old fashioned woman.”

  “I know.”

  “I presume you have some part of Sir Giles estate?”

  “Only my mother's portion of a thousand pounds in the four-percents.”

  “Oh dear. That's not much is it?”

  “I can live on it, but it won't run to a fashionable place.”

  “Wasn't Penyclawdd profitable?”

  “I'd say it was highly profitable, but my brother died a few days old and my mother shortly after. So the money from the farm is entailed upon Captain Wood.”

  “You are in a predicament, aren't you?”

  Cecelia refused to be disheartened and said, “I don't know. It could be much worse. At least I will have something to live on.”

  “Sir Charles and I were on more than a nodding acquaintance with your father. So I'll so what I can. You'll have to work on your manners and deportment while you're here.”

  “If you insist, but I thought I was here to help your daughter learn to ride well.”

  “You can do that during the day. I presume you won't be riding at night.”

  “Yes Ma'am. I hear and obey your commands.” Cecelia rose and gave Lady Elizabeth a deep curtsy, the sort she would give the queen if she were presented.

  “You'll have to watch that tendency to levity. I think I hear Mary, so you are excused.”

  “Thank you, I'll do my best to not be an embarrassment to you.”

  “I'm sure you won't be an embarrassment, but I'd like you to be a credit.”

  Cecelia left and found Mary waiting for her in the front hall. “How did you survive that interview with my mother? She can be very severe when she wants to be.”

  “She certainly was blunt, but I like straightforward talk. In any case, there's a lot for you to do, so if you'll follow me to the stables.”

  Cecelia and Mary were busy. Cecelia had Mary brush her horse, then walk her around the stables on a lead. Finally, with the help of the grooms, they saddled her horse and another. Then they trotted out for a brief ride around the paddock.

  While Cecelia and Mary were occupied with the horses, Captain Wood called on Lady Elizabeth and Sir Charles. He brought Miss Wood's clothing with him in the gig. Lady Elizabeth received him in the front parlor.

  “Captain Wood, I'm pleased to meet you. My brother-in-law Fitzroy asked about you in his last letter from Spain. How are you doing?”

  “Much improved, but I still have to be careful.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “Not usually, but there are times it is awful. I don't know if I'll ever be fully recovered.”

  “I'm sorry to hear so.”

  “That's more than enough about my troubles. Talking about them bores me and must be tedious to anyone else. How is Miss Wood doing?”

  “She is teaching my daughter Mary to be a comfortable rider.”

  “Cecelia, Miss Wood is an excellent horsewoman. I hope she's as good a teacher.”

  “She says that you and Miss Arnold will take her to Bath.”

  “Yes, Jane has promised to help her with husband-hunting.”

  “I wish you good luck with that. How is Jane?”

  “She was feeling slightly indisposed, and makes her apologies. A trip to Raglan today was more than she felt she could stand.”

  “I see. How long have you been engaged?”

  “Since March 23. Why?”

  “Just wondering. You know I eloped with Sir Charles?”

  “No, I didn't.”

  “I disapprove of long engagements. If you're ready to marry, just get married.”

  “I'm afraid Jane would disagree with you. She's waiting for permission from the head of her family.”

  “Silly girl. I guess she enjoys the idea of being engaged more than the idea of marriage.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Being engaged can bring such a feeling of self-satisfaction to a young woman. She no longer needs to worry about finding a husband, and in the meantime she doesn't need to worry about satisfying one.”

  “I'm sure you're being cynical. It isn't like that at all.”

  “Still I presume you're happy with her.”

  “Absolutely, I'm counting the days until we get the letter from Lord Pershore giving her permission.”

  Sir Charles joined them, “I was watching your cousin at work. Mary is already more confident in her seat. They were just returning the horses to the stables.”

  “I'm glad she's being helpful. Penyclawdd seems a little flat and lifeless without her.”

  Sir Charles nodded at Lady Elizabeth, who simply commented, “Already miss her do you?”

  Before Captain Wood could reply, Sir Charles continued, “I caught their attention and told them you were here. They'll join us shortly. I know it's a tad effeminate for a dashing young captain, but will you join us for a nuncheon? I know Mary will need it. She's not used to such strenuous exertion in the morning.”

  “It would be my pleasure. Miss Arnold and our cook were having a heated discussion last night, so I'm not sure what meal awaits my return. Breakfast was, how would you say it? Interesting.”

  For the next few minutes, conversation centered on the safe and mundane aspects of farming, only once veering into dangerous waters. Sir Charles asked, “How many sheep do you have at Penyclawdd?”

  “I don't know. I'd have to ask Cecelia, Miss Wood.”

  Cecelia answered from the door to the parlor, “The farm itself, only three hundred forty-seven, give or take a few lambs. About ten of those are rams. Our tenants run much more.” She had changed from her horsey clothes into clean, although still less than fashionable dress.

  George started, “Cecelia! How are you?”

  She blushed at his attention, “It's only been a day, Captain Wood, and surely Penyclawdd is still standing without me.”

  “Yes, still standing, but whether it is as comfortable as it was is an open question.”

  “What happened?”

  “Miss Arnold and your cook had a disagreement last night.”

  “She is a mite temperamental.”

  “Miss Arnold?”

  “No, I meant Mrs. Jones, our cook. Would it help if I wrote her a note?”

  “It might.”

  Nuncheon went well. Mary, unused to the level of physical activity that Cecelia set for her, was famished. Captain Wood, after a breakfast of cold, congealed porridge and something that more resembled dishwater than tea, was happy to eat whatever was available. At the end of the meal Lady Elizabeth announced, “Mary, Miss Wood, if you would please defer your afternoon's exertions, I would like to see how well Miss Wood dances.”

  “Can't we do that this evening?”

  “We could, but then you would have to stand with each other. Who would play?”

  “Surely I could dance with Sir Charles?”

  Sir Charles, catching the look his lady gave him and understanding its meaning, quickly interjected, “Not with my gout, Miss Wood.”

  “If you say so. But I promised Geor- Mary that we could go for a long ride this afternoon, and Charles Henry as well if he wishes.”

  “We'll only be a few minutes. We can always delay dinner.”

  The party trooped to the drawing room were a small, somewhat dated, pianoforte sat in the corner. Lady Elizabeth asked her daug
hter, “Mary, would you play a country dance, say 'the Miller'. Captain Wood, please take Miss Wood as your partner.”

  “If you insist.”

  Somewhat awkwardly and shyly, both the Captain and Cecelia took their places as Mary started in on one of the hot new dances of 1810. George and Cecelia bowed and then started the dance. It didn't take long before they collided.

  “I'm sorry,” Cecelia apologized, blushing, “I just don't know how this dance goes.”

  George said, “The fault is as much mine.”

  Lady Elizabeth intervened, “Mary, if you would dance and show Miss Wood how. Miss Wood, could you play?”

  “I can try, but I don't play nearly so well as Miss Somerset.”

  “As long as you keep to the tempo, don't worry about the rest.”

  It was soon clear that for all her knowledge about horses and farming, Cecelia's education was lacking the refinements required of a young lady of culture. She could play the tune, or she could play in time. Playing the tune in time was beyond her skill.

  Lady Elizabeth clicked her tongue in dismay. “I see we'll have to hire a caper-merchant for you. I think Mary, that I shall be coming to Bath with you after all.”

  “Oh Mother, do you have to?”

  “I'm sorry Mary, but yes. If we're to help launch your friend onto the seas of society, you'll need my help.”

  “Lady Elizabeth, I'm not expecting to dance. Just give me a book and I'll sit with the chaperons.”

  “Not dance! Miss Wood, how in the world to you expect to meet a suitable young man?”

  “I don't know.” Cecelia was near tears. The rules of society were so beyond her comprehension.

  “There, there, my dear.” Lady Elizabeth unbent her formality. “You will do fine, perhaps you'll run into one while riding on Claverton Down. I'm sure a few hours with a good caper-merchant will work wonders, you'll see.”

  George watched this exchange and worried about Cecelia's feelings. He said “Cecelia, I know we collided and almost tripped over each other, but it was much more interesting to dance with you than with Miss Somerset.”

  Cecelia looked at him, and her tears seemed to dry. “If you say so, Captain Wood. Thank you.”

  “I'll see if Jane will play for us when you return to Penyclawdd. We can get some practice then.” Somehow, Cecelia doubted that would work. Instead of expressing her doubts, she said, “Captain Wood, I'd be happy to practice my playing if you and Miss Arnold would dance.”