The Cumberland Plateau

by Mary K. Baxley

  After the maid let him in, he waited. When Cecilia entered the room, he was not disappointed. His breath stilled as his eyes slowly canvassed her figure, desire welling up inside of him. She was drop...dead...gorgeous in a deep plum strapless evening gown, hugging her shape, accenting her every sensual curve to its best advantage. Her amethyst and diamond choker served to bring out the shimmering hue in her violet-blue eyes. …Oh, yes, she’s beautiful!

  “Good evening, Cecilia. You’re looking lovely tonight,” David whispered, reining in his emotions as his eyes once again swept over her body.

  Cecilia smiled warmly. “Thank you, David. You look very handsome yourself. We have a few minutes. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “Yes, that’ll be fine.” David spoke softly, suddenly finding it difficult to breath as the sly glance from beneath her lashes jolted his senses, causing his blood to run hot and quick. Filling two goblets, she handed one to him and moved to the sofa. David took a chair opposite to her, where he watched her over the rim of his glass.

  As they sat sipping their wine in quiet solitude, Cecilia noticed he was staring. She shuddered. His dark intensive gaze unnerved her, as if perhaps he might like to taste something other than the wine. She inhaled sharply, attempting to recover the composure he had so eloquently disrupted.

  She wondered what he was thinking, but then from his look, she could easily guess. She had to smile. He wanted her. She knew the physical attraction between them was strong, but there was something more. He was different from anyone she’d known before, but in what way, she couldn’t exactly say. Glancing at the clock, she was relieved. It was time to go. After finishing their wine, she took the glasses to the kitchen, and they left for the Lawton Blue Room.

  Upon entering, several of Cecilia’s friends came to greet her. Mrs. Appleton approached first, taking Cecilia’s hands in hers while reaching over to kiss her cheek. “Celia, darlin’, we were so worried when we heard poor Daniel was ill. I hope it’s nothin’ serious, dear.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t. I think he has the flu. However, I did manage to find an escort for the evening,” Cecilia said, slipping her arm around David. “Mrs. Appleton, I’d like you to meet my friend and business associate, Mr. David Darcy. David, this is my good friend, Mrs. Tabitha Appleton,” Cecilia introduced, gesturing between the two. “Tabitha, David’s from London. He’s new to our society, so please make him feel welcome.” She flashed David a brilliant smile.

  Mrs. Appleton presented her hand, avid curiosity gleaming in her blue gaze, curious about the unknown man escorting Cecilia.

  “Mrs. Appleton, the pleasure is mine,” David said, offering a charming smile as he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the thin skin on the back of her fingers.

  “Mr. Darcy, how very pleased I am to meet you,” Mrs. Appleton drawled with a careful calculating look. “And what a lovely accent,” she added with a gentle smile.

  Cecilia barely managed to prevent her eyes from rolling towards the ceiling at the older woman’s inquisitive stare. She could hear it now. Who is this man Cecilia’s with…I hope it lasts…she needs a man in her life. Oh, well, she shrugged. It was part of the price she paid for being in the probing eye of society. Everyone wonders whom you’re with and what you’re doing. She refused to let it ruin her evening.

  David and Cecilia moved to the bar where they each ordered a glass of port. While casually sipping their wine, several more people came by for introductions, and before long, David had met nearly everyone in the room. As they talked and mingled, Cecilia was called aside to speak with Mrs. Robinson, the society’s treasurer, about tonight’s event.

  “David, I hate to leave you here alone like this, but I really must attend to this matter. It involves tonight’s speech. I’ll only be a few minutes as we’re about to start.”

  “Take your time. Don’t worry about me. I’ll have another glass of port wine whilst I wait. I’ll be fine.”

  While he sipped his wine, David watched her as she mixed and mingled so naturally among her peers, smiling and laughing. Cecilia was so different from the hardnosed woman he was accustomed to seeing at the negotiating table. There was a softness about her features he’d never noticed before. Curiously, she was not like the women he’d previously dated, not even those from among his own sphere. But what was different? He didn’t know. There was an elegance and grace in her movements, but that wasn’t it. It was something else. She appeared to care about her duties and the people here in this room. The curve of her lips when she smiled was gentle and relaxed. She was perfectly at ease in society. He took another sip of wine, settling in to watch her closely.

  While he was watching Cecilia, another man watched him. A man in his late fifties or early sixties approached and ordered a glass of Gentleman Jack.

  “She’s a lovely lady, don’t you think, Darcy?”

  David turned to face the man. “Yes, yes, she is.”

  The man extended his hand. “I believe we met a little while ago.”

  “Yes, we did. I believe you are Mr. Robert Russell, owner of the Ford and Mercedes Benz dealership here in Charleston, and Daniel Russell’s brother,” David said with a friendly smile as they shook hands.

  “Correct again on both accounts. And yes, my family has been in that business since after the Second World War.” Mr. Russell followed David’s eyes to where Cecilia stood.

  “I see Celia is talking with Jenny. She’s the current president of the South Carolina Chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy. I believe Celia is running for that office come this January. She’s very dedicated to her work here at the historical society.”

  “What exactly does she do?” David asked, as he continued to watch Cecilia.

  “Oh, mostly she oversees the projects, making sure they’re managed properly. There are several volunteers who travel throughout the South lookin’ for old historical journals to publish and sell in the little bookshops around town. She buys property in the historical district to renovate, turning them into historical museums or homes for neglected children. She also collects artifacts from estate sales to display, lectures here and there about the Old South, the War Between the States, and the settling of Charles Towne. And she’s been known to act in several Civil War Reenactments, too. But probably the most important thing would be her father’s cotton and rice research projects. She’s attemptin’ to finish his work and reintroduce the Sea Island Cotton and Carolina Gold Rice back into production in South Carolina’s agricultural economy.”

  The corners of David’s mouth arched upward as he listened.

  Russell smiled as he sipped his drink. “She’s also very active in our community, personally supportin’ projects for the less fortunate, such as our homeless shelters and Hannah’s House, a home for battered women, and I might add, one of her favorite charities,” Robert drawled in his strong Lowcountry accent. “That’s somethin’ that is very important to Celia. Nothin’ gets her ire up quicker than to see a woman or a child abused by those who are supposed to love and protect them.”

  “I would have never guessed she was involved in such endeavors,” David said, raising his glass to his lips, his eyes steady on their target.

  “Yes, it’s not readily obvious, I know.” Robert chuckled. “And I also know what people say, but that’s not true. She’s as good as gold to those around her who suffer, ‘cause you see, Darcy, she’s suffered, too. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you’re immune to pain. Celia’s quite a lady, Mr. Darcy, and she’s greatly loved and admired by the people of Charleston, especially those among the oldest families—the ones who keep this town grounded in its roots.” Sipping his drink, he pressed on. “But then again, there are those among us from that blue-blooded crowd that holds her in contempt because of her father. They were jealous of him, too,” he said matter-of-factly. “But James did as he damn well pleased. He didn’t care, and in that regard, she’s just like him. But the rest of us ‘blue bloods’ keep them in check. And Ce
lia couldn’t give a rat’s ass about them anyway.”

  “I didn’t realize she was so active in her community.” David’s gaze locked on Cecilia, staring as if seeing her for the first time. The ruthless businesswoman in the boardroom was a far cry from the concerned activist Robert described.

  “Yes, there’s a lot to people that often gets overlooked, and that’s especially true of Celia. She keeps a low profile when it comes to her personal life. Her life growing up was not easy. We’ve all been protective of her.”

  David tilted his head, his attention completely focused on Robert. This was the second time someone had mentioned her early life. David’s curiosity was piqued. “What was her life like?”

  “Well, her mother and father, I’m sorry to say, didn’t get along none too well.” Robert looked away for moment and then caught David’s gaze and held it. “They fought like cats and dogs, and when Celia was eight years old, her mother tragically died.” Robert paused again to clear his throat and have another drink. “Now for some reason, of which I know little of, James felt guilty for Emmaline’s death, taking it very hard. He fell into reckless living, and all I will say on that matter is that Celia saw more than a young girl should ever see.”

  David’s eyes widened as he sipped his wine.

  “Now don’t get me wrong, Darcy,” Robert reassured, noticing David’s countenance. “James loved her. It’s just that he couldn’t handle his personal life’s crises, but Celia was always the center of his world. He loved her very much, and Celia was loyal to him. She went everywhere with him, and when he died, she took it very hard. Some say she has become just like him, cold and indifferent, but I don’t think so. I remember the sweet little girl who used to ride ponies and sing songs. How you see her tonight is how she really is—the girl I remember.” He paused as he spied a portly woman waving. “Well, if you will excuse me, I believe my wife is callin’. I bid you a good evenin’, Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Russell shook David’s hand once again before taking his leave.

  ~*~

  Meanwhile, another man closely observed Cecilia and David’s movements. “Keeler, who’s that Brit Celia’s seein’? She never brings a date here, and she’s been seen with him before. I was told they had an unusually good time at O’Malley’s.”

  “Why do you care, Cameron? You dumped her years ago for Amelia, remember?”

  “Yeah, and what a mistake that turned out to be. I traded brains for a bitch.” Cameron smirked, “I intend to win her back, and I don’t need some damned Englishman gettin’ in my way.” Cameron nursed his whiskey while he watched Robert speaking with the Brit.

  ~*~

  As Robert walked away, David frowned …That was a completely different side to her …So she had a difficult time as a child…not unlike me…hmm…

  While David was lost in his thoughts, Cecilia approached him. “David, I think we should take our seats. It’s about to begin.”

  Cecilia guided him to their table where they ate and talked with those around them until the time arrived for Cecilia to give the annual report to the Charleston Historical Counsel Board. She rose from her seat, papers in hand, and walked to the podium.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she smiled, “I open this meeting with the reading of the minutes of the last meeting. Margaret, will you please do the honors?”

  A tall, thin woman in her mid-thirties stood up and read the minutes. When she concluded, Cecilia inquired. “Are there any questions?”

  No reply.

  “All right, since there are no questions, I will proceed with our annual report.” Cecilia paused for a sip of water, and then she read the report. “Sullivan House has been purchased for just under two million dollars and plans for its restoration are well underway. Also, twenty-five journals dating from 1795 to 1947 were located and are now published and for sale in the historical bookstores. And lastly, the Charleston Heritage Cookbook, sponsored by the Junior League, is entering its fifteenth printing.” She continued on with the report of the sales in the historical shops, which had exceeded expectations. Concluding the business section of the report, she moved on to a personal project that was very dear to her heart.

  “That brings me to a point of new business. Since we are a nonprofit organization, I would like to take some of the extra money we have and donate it to Hannah’s House, but no decision is to be made on that point tonight. We will take it up at our next scheduled meeting.”

  Stopping for a brief moment, she leaned onto the podium and surveyed the audience. “I must temporary halt here to say something that distresses me to no end. I read just the other day in The Charleston News Courier that there were far more battered and abused women this year than in the previous. I want you to know that I am appalled and ashamed that such a thing still exists here in Charleston.” Cecilia paused. “There should be no battered or abused women in Charleston, or anywhere else, for that matter. I want us as a group to do all within our power to help women overcome their co-dependency on these men, or dare I say animals, who abuse them. This wretched behavior is unforgivable.”

  The room broke out in applause. When the clapping calmed, she continued. “Moving on to the next item, we are renovating Choler House on East Battery for the new Children’s Advocacy Home. Battered and abused children will be given a home there where they will be allowed to heal and grow. That project will be finished next week with the center hopefully opening before Christmas. I’ve promised the children a Christmas party when it finally opens,” she said with a smile. “I would like to see all of us come and read a book, play, or share some time with the children in whatever way we can. They need to know that people care. I’m also sponsoring an Angel Tree Program. I have a list of what each child needs and wants for Christmas, so if you would like to participate, see me after the meeting. Let’s give these children a good Christmas.” Another round of applause erupted.

  “Before I conclude this report, are there any questions?”

  There was no answer.

  “No one?”

  She nodded, accepting the silence as the society’s acquiescence. “Well, since there are no questions, that concludes my report. I now turn the floor over to Cameron Taylor. Cameron.” Cecilia smiled as she handed the microphone to the gentleman, who upon taking it gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

  She glared in warning.

  Not missing Cameron’s kiss and Cecilia’s reaction, David smiled, amused, thinking of his own experiences. At least she had been affectionate with him, even if he had failed to seduce her.

  The dinner was a great success, with almost everyone taking a child’s name to sponsor for a Christmas gift. Even David took one, leaving Cecilia with enough money to purchase the gifts for the older boy he had selected. Besides the Lego Technic/Expert Builder Kit and Ipod Nano the child wanted, David insisted the child be given a collection of The Chronicles of Narnia, which he had loved as a boy.

  When all the names were taken, David and Cecilia mixed and mingled among the crowd. One by one, the guests came to talk with David.

  “Mr. Darcy, it’s good to meet you. We always enjoy new and varying company in our society, and you seem interestin’ to talk with. It’s not often that I find someone who enjoys a fast horse or a fast woman, and I believe you enjoy both.” Solomon Abercrombie winked as he eyed Cecilia across the room.

  “Well yes, Mr. Abercrombie, I do admire a fast horse and own several Arabians, but as to women, I never discuss that.” David paused and changed the subject. “I understand your South Carolina thoroughbreds are among the best. Did I hear you tell Mr. Russell that your horse, Southern Diamond, won the Preakness Stakes?”

  “Why yes, Darcy, she did, and the Belmont Stakes, too. And she came within a nose hair at Churchill Downs, puttin’ me one race shy of the Triple Crown. But there is always next year with a filly I own that’s lookin’ pretty promisin’.” Solomon’s brow arched. “Say, Darcy, you keep up with horse racin’ do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. My whi
te Arabian stallion has potential, but unfortunately I lack the time to explore it.” David smiled as Abercrombie’s curiosity piqued into an area David felt comfortable discussing.

  “Oh? Tell me about him. What’s his name and who sired him?”

  “His name is Sea Crest, and he’s from the royal line in Saudi Arabia. He was a gift from the King—one of his prize stallions, bred for speed across the desert.”

  “Umm, I see. I’ll have to look him up.” Solomon frowned, staring at David with newfound respect.

  “You do that. I’m sure you’ll like what you find.” David chuckled, clearly amused.

  “Now, what kinda car do you drive?” Abercrombie asked, eyeing David closely.

  “Hmm…well, I have several, actually. I own a black Jag XK, a red Romeo 8C Competizione, and a few sport utility vehicles. I also have a Blue Hera Lamborghini LP640 Murciélago Coupé on order.”

  “A Murciélago you say? Umm…quite impressive, Darcy. Six hundred and thirty-one horse power. Zero to sixty in less than 3.5 seconds from a dead stop with a top speed of 222 mph. It’s one of the fastest cars on the road. I saw the Roadster version at the Los Angeles Auto Show last month. At over $320,000, the LP640 is quite a car. Your other cars aren’t half bad either. Hmm… fast cars, fast horses, and fast women. Some like it hot,” Abercrombie said on a soft chuckle, sipping his whiskey while he glanced between David and Cecilia. “On horses and cars, you appear to be a man of knowledge with some good sense and understandin’, but Darcy,” he grinned widely, “when it comes to the woman, I’m afraid you’re in for a real challenge. Cecilia is quite a little filly herself and hot to trot from what I hear, but what I wonder is…are you the right stud?” Solomon’s eyebrow shot up as he nodded with a dry grin. “Remember, Darcy, women are a lot like horses. They have to be broken in and trained.” Mr. Abercrombie winked as he moved along.