“I'm ready!” Cecelia joined him and together they walked the few blocks uphill to the assembly rooms.
The concert, like all such concerts, was excellent if you liked operatic sopranos singing in Italian, and better than sitting alone at home and reading a book if you didn't. George was almost in a trance with the beauty of the music, and some of his enthusiasm rubbed off on Cecelia. It helped when he could give her a rough translation of the lyrics. Eventually, like all good things, it came to an end and they walked back to the townhouse. As they mounted the stoop he turned and held Cecelia's hands. Then he gave her what he thought was a brotherly kiss. “Thank you for accompanying me to the concert Miss Wood.” Cecelia, overcome with emotion since nice girls didn't even hold hands outside of wedlock, simply nodded. Then when the door opened she floated upstairs to her room.
Cecelia awoke late in the morning, and her maid brought her the portentous news. “Miss, you'll never believe what's happened.”
“What?”
“Miss Arnold's run off.”
“No! Why?”
“No one knows why, but she went with Mr. Ames. There was a letter left for the Captain. He read it and ran off too. The other servants are saying he went to find her.”
“Oh, I hope it was nothing to do with last night?”
“No Miss, remember Miss Arnold asked you to go to the concert. Not like you did anything wrong, was there?”
“The Captain was very nice to me, helped me to understand what Miss Catalani was singing. Brought me some punch in the middle. Nothing that was improper, even in the fevered imaginings of the worst Bath gossips.” Unfortunately this was not quite true. Could Miss Arnold have seen them kiss and run off in disgust?
“Miss this was left for you.” Her maid handed Cecelia a sealed letter. “I meant to give it to you last night, but you were so late and I forgot.”
“Well, hand it here and let me see. Better late than never.”
It was a short note in Miss Arnold's handwriting.
Miss Wood, Dear Cecelia
I am breaking my engagement to Captain Wood for reasons that are personal and private. I don't think he'll be seriously hurt by it. Since I've long seen how he looks at you, consider this missive an invitation for you to pursue him. I wish you better luck than I've had since I think you really do feel for him. Try to keep your surprise when I sign my next letter as Mrs. A.
Yours &c.
Jane Arnold
Cecelia almost fainted with the shock, but quickly rallied. “What must Captain Wood think of me?”
“Calm yourself Miss Wood. I'm sure he doesn't think badly of you. It's Miss Arnold that ran off with that Mr. Ames.”
“I introduced them to each other. Surely this couldn't have happened if I had paid Mr. Ames more attention myself.” The thoughts came unbidden, “Why did I let him kiss me? That must be the reason she left. I've broken their engagement and ruined his happiness.”
“No miss, you're not to blame. You couldn't have foreseen that.”
“Yes, yes. You are right, of course. Could you get me some chocolate?”
“Yes Miss.” Her maid left on her errand to the kitchen. As soon as the door shut behind her, Cecelia frantically dug her purse out and counted her money. Ten pounds, not enough for a post-chaise, but enough to get to Swansea with some to spare if she were careful. She might need to take the stage, or even walk a short distance, but she could get to her aunt. More importantly, she could get to her aunt's home tomorrow or at worst the next day. Then she would not have to meet with Captain Wood ever again.
By the time her maid returned with fresh, hot chocolate for her morning repast, Cecelia had thrown on some clothes, packed a small bag, and vanished into the streets of Bath. She resolved to write a note of abject apology to Captain Wood while waiting for the stage to the Severn ferry. As she shut the door of the townhouse, she told Heulwen to be a good dog and look after her masters.
11. The Hunt Starts.
George read the letter Jane left him. He stared out the window in dismayed shock and said, to no one in particular, “She's left with Mr. Ames, damn.” He rose and walked to the side-board where he kept a decanter of brandy and started to pour himself a stiff drink. Then, thinking the better of it, he threw the contents of his glass into the fire. Instead, he grabbed his cloak and cane, and headed out of the front door aiming to take a long walk. Landsdown rose high above the city to the north and its wilderness looked inviting.
George returned in the early afternoon from his troubled walk on Landsdown, much refreshed, and with a new clarity of mind. “Meadows,” he shouted for his valet. “Meadows, Meadows, come here!” His voice thundered through the Bath townhouse he hired for the season.
“Sir!”
“Where is she?!”
“Who sir?”
“Cecelia, blast you.”
“What about Miss Arnold?”
“She's left, gone last night. With Mr. Ames, but that doesn't matter. She left me a note explaining how they were meant for each other, truly in love and that she was sorry if her news caused me any pain.”
“Meant for each other? What do you mean, sir?”
“It means, when crudely translated, that he's richer than I am, and he lives in London. It's a narrow escape for me from a fate worse than death. As far as I can see it's a damned good riddance that she's found someone else. More's the pity for poor Mr. Ames. Have you seen Cecelia?”
Meadows gave an internal sigh of relief. He had planned to offer his resignation the day after Captain Wood's marriage to that woman. Not that she was always dreadful or particularly difficult. He just thought that it was unlikely to be a happy marriage, and preferred not to see his friend and master trapped in an unpleasant situation. He much preferred it if the Captain were established with someone who would make him truly happy. Now he wouldn't have to leave what he found to be an amicable situation. “If you mean Miss Wood, I have not, sir. Not since this morning after you went on your walk in the downs. Heulwen is still here so she can't have gone far.”
“Damn, Damn, Damn, bugger it all! Where is that woman? I need to talk with her.”
“Sir, this letter was left for you this morning.” Captain Wood snatched it from him and started to read.
Dear Captain Wood.
I'm sorry that I've caused unpleasantness between your fiancée and you. Please forgive me. Give Miss Arnold my sincere apologies as well. It's best that I not attend your wedding considering what has happened. Since you'll want to take up residence at Penyclawdd as soon as you are married, I won't return there. I shan't trouble you again.
Sincerely
Miss Cecelia Wood.
“What in the world can she mean by 'what has happened'? Did she and Miss Arnold have a fight yesterday?”
“Not that I'm aware of, sir. They were on good terms in the afternoon and Miss Arnold appeared to be asleep when you returned.”
“It just doesn't make sense. Do you suppose Cecelia is upset that I kissed her last night? It was just a quick peck and nothing serious. She didn't mind it then.”
“Women are funny creatures, sir.”
“Doesn't matter. I'll have to find her. I must find her. When did this arrive?”
“This morning. You weren't here. Sir.”
“Why didn't you send a footman out to find me? This is important. You've failed me Meadows.”
“Sir, I did send one, James. He's still looking for you. Shall I send another to find him, sir?”
Captain Wood stopped, momentarily distracted by the humorous idea of every one of his footmen searching Bath for each other, then returned to the matter at hand. “Do you have any idea where Miss Wood is?”
“Since she often talked of living with her aunt, I would strongly suspect she was headed there, sir. Her Aunt lives in Swansea, sir. I'm afraid that Miss Wood did not confide her name or situation to me.”
Miss Wood was, as a matter of fact, at that moment standing where the stage from Bath dropped her. S
he stood by the Aust ferry on the east bank of the Severn River and looked at the river crossing with increasing unease. The small cockleshell of a ferry boat and threatening clouds blowing in across the Severn did not bode well for a smooth crossing. In her unease, she asked the ferry captain, “Will it be safe to cross?”
“Safe Ma'am, of course she's safe. Haven't lost one, oh, since last month.”
“Since last month?”
Seeing the greenish pallor creep into Miss Wood's face, the boatman, laughed. “Nay lass, she's a good sound boat. I wouldn't go myself if it were other. You'll be fine.”
“Even with that storm coming?”
“That! A storm, just a little rain and a smidgen of wind. Naught to worry over.”
“Are you sure?”
“Miss, you can stay in the lodgings here and see. Cost you a bit though.”
“I will, Can I catch the first boat in the morning, while it's calmer? I'm prone to seasick.”
The man smiled, this young woman reminded him of his own daughter, now married to a farmer not far away. “I see Miss. My own daughter couldn't stand the waves either. Married a good man up in Nibley. Can't see it myself, but I guess she took after her mother. For some reason she likes the feel of solid ground under her feet.” He pointed her at the lodgings then tipped his hat and headed off to his boat.
Cecelia was soon safely ensconced in the inn, enjoying some tea and warming herself by the fire. So she completely missed the commotion that happened outside. A well-dressed young man rode up and sprang off his horse, shouting, “Has that blasted ferry gone yet!”
“No sir, you're just in time. We're just about to cast off.”
“Good, is there room for me?”
“And your horse sir.”
“Excellent. Lead me to it, and let's go, damn you. I have to get to Chepstow as soon as I can.”
“Yes sir. Why may I ask?”
“I'll tell you when we're underway, but it's important. No time to stand here gabbing.”
The boatmen cast off and with the strong wind coming down the Severn, the boat made good time across it. The young man stood there, tapping his foot with impatience. The ferry captain asked him, “Sir, what is your hurry?”
“I'm chasing the love of my life, she's fled from Bath and I'm told is heading to her Aunt's in Swansea.”
“You don't say, sir. What did she look like?”
“Can't you make this boat go any faster?”
“Not without tipping her. She's heeling enough as it is.”
He scowled at the clouds gathering over the hills of the Forest of Dean. “I hope it doesn't storm. I don't want to spend tonight in Chepstow.”
“This woman, sir, what did she look like?”
“Her name is Cecelia, Miss Cecelia Wood. She's tall, brown-haired, fair skinned and beautiful. I don't know. I do know she's headed to Swansea, and that she's ahead of me. That's enough.”
The boatman thought it sounded rather like that fair passenger who was waiting for first boat tomorrow morning. He thought it best to keep quiet about her. Besides, he might be wrong, and then this spirited gentleman would have real cause for complaint. He asked, “What are you called? In case I hear news of Miss Wood.”
“Captain George Wood, I was in Bath, but best to send news to my home at Penyclawdd house. She's my cousin.”
“I wish you the best, Captain Wood. It mayn't be safe on the roads tonight, but the anchor is one of the best inns. It's also where the stage for Swansea starts in the morning. If your Miss Wood is taking the stage, she'll be there tonight or tomorrow morning.”
Captain Wood, who had been tensed with every fiber of his being, seemed to relax. “You're right. I can't ride all the way to Swansea tonight, not without a good moon. I'll get a fresh start in the morning.”
As soon as the ferry pulled up to the dock at Beachly, the man sprang onto his horse and was off. He stopped at the Anchor and took a room. There was no 'Miss Wood' on tomorrow morning's waybill for the stage. If Cecelia already were in Swansea, she'd still be there tomorrow. It didn't bear thinking about, if she wasn't.
In the morning Captain Wood called for his horse and rode hard for Swansea. Four hours and three changes of horse later, he was there. He walked his horse along the crowded high street and realized that his search wasn't going to be easy. Stiffly dismounting in front of the White Swan, he found lodging and a stable for his mount. Then he started his inquiries by asking the publican, “Do you know of a Miss Wood or a Mrs. Wood? She would be an older woman and related to the Woods of Penyclawdd.”
The inn keeper responded, slowly, “A Mrs. Wood? Let me think. Well maybe down on Wind Street. No, that's a Mrs. Dobson. She's an elderly lady you say?”
“No, I don't think elderly is right. Maybe in her thirties?”
“Then there's a Miss Jones. She's always on about her nephews. Doesn't have any nieces that I remember. And.”
George found this trying, in the extreme, and finally said, “It will be faster if I just knock on every door in Swansea. There can't be that many.”
“I can't rightly say to that, sir. Mayhap's you're right.”
George started at one end of town. He knocked, pounded or shouted at each door until he received an answer. Unfortunately, the first twenty doors resulted in the same negative answer, “A Miss Wood or Mrs. Wood? No never heard of anyone like that.”
His actions attracted another sort of attention. Two robust gentlemen, members of the town watch, interrupted him at the twenty-first door. “Sir, what are you doing? It is disturbing the whole town.”
“I'm trying to find Miss Wood's aunt.”
“Miss Wood's aunt? Why ever that?”
“I don't care about the aunt. It's Miss Wood, um Miss Cecelia Wood I'm looking for. Have you seen her?”
“No, can't rightly say that I have. Have you Bob?”
“No, never heard of such a person.”
“Then please get out of my way!”
“No sir, you can't disturb the peace like this. You will have to stop it.”
Captain Wood knocked one of the men to the ground and started knocking on the twenty-first door of his day.
The other one shouted, “Sorry sir, but we can't have that.” He blew his whistle and within a few minutes Captain Wood was being frog-marched to the Swansea Bridewell to await next week's assizes on a charge of breach of the peace. Which was a bit of a shame, really, as the stage from Chepstow was just arriving outside of the White Swan. Miss Wood was anxiously looking out of its windows and wondering how she could possibly find her Aunt Mrs. Hopwell or her husband the vicar in this huge and strange city.
Captain Wood found life in the bridewell tolerable, or at least as tolerable as life in a prison could be. Since he was obviously a man of means, the warders kept him separate from the drunks. Because he could pay for food and bed, he didn't have to earn his keep at hard labor like the other miscreants. In any case, he couldn't be pressed into the navy until after the assizes found him guilty and remanded him to the gaol.
The enforced idleness of his life was extraordinarily difficult to his emotions. It was only the iron discipline that once let him lead men into fire that kept him from screaming in frustration. Cecelia was somewhere, out there, doing something. The possibility that she was leaving Swansea for somewhere else grew with every day. He tried to argue with the warder, to offer bail, but to no avail. He even tried to see if he could hire a member of the watch to look for her. The answer was always along the lines of “Sorry, sir, but you're not from around here and we can't trust you.”
The warders let him, for a consideration, write letters. He sent expresses to Bath and Penyclawdd asking Meadows to come and vouch for his honesty.
Meadows, in fact, was already on his way. He brought the Captain's carriage with him, which meant a longer, slower trip via Gloucester. He didn't arrive until the day before the assizes. Immediately he started checking the inns for his master. It didn't take long before he heard the town
gossip about the strange young man who was searching for a 'Mrs. Wood' who was an aunt. With that information in hand, he found the Captain at the bridewell almost at once.
The warder banged on the door to Captain Wood's quarters. “A visitor for you 'Captain'.” He unlocked and opened the door and let Meadows in. The door clanked shut behind him, locking him in with his master.
“Sir?” Meadows was shocked. Captain Wood was unshaven and his one set of clothes hadn't been changed or washed since he left Bath. “Sir, you look like a desperate fellow.”
“I am a desperate fellow. How am I to find Miss Wood locked in here?”
“I'll ask around, discreetly. First, though, if you look like that the judge at the assizes will send you to chase kangaroos. If I may, I'll see if the warder will let me restore you to your proper appearance, sir.”
The Swansea assizes where dealing with the week's refuse from the city bridewell at a break-neck pace. Each miscreant was escorted to the 'dock' in front of a tall desk where a wigged judge read the charges against him. The miscreant was asked if they were true. Very few argued otherwise, as it tended to displease the court and would result in a longer or harsher sentence. The miscreant was then led off. As he awaited the chance to pay his fine or the cuffs to take him to prison, two naval gentlemen, a midshipman and his petty officer, offered him the exciting chance of joining the King's navy in exchange for his punishment. It was not always a fair bargain.
The efficient process of the court stuttered when Captain Wood was escorted in. Meadows had done wonders at cleaning and grooming him. A fresh suit had done the rest. Captain Wood was obviously a gentleman. The judge read the charges, “Captain George Wood, The charges against you are that you willfully disturbed the peace and assaulted a constable. Is this true?”
“Not exactly, your worship. I was looking for a Miss Wood who had run away from my household in Bath. They were stopping me.”
What About Cecelia? Page 12