Holiday in Bath

by Laura Matthews

  When they were alone, Trelenny did not speak for a moment, could not even bring herself to look at him. “That was especially kind of you, Cranford. I ... I’m sure I can never repay you, but I shall try. You won’t mind going so very much, will you?”

  “With all those antiquities to look forward to, how could I?” he asked ruefully.

  “To be perfectly honest with you,” she said miserably, “I am not sure where they may be found. That is, I could find no information on who has them now.”

  “Trust me, Trelenny. I shall find them.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I hope you may, Cranford, for I can see no other pleasure for you in Bath.”

  “Can’t you? No, I suppose not. Never mind. I’ll come at ten tomorrow if you can be ready by then.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  “Good. Now I’ll just have a word with Mr. Filkins.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Relations between Cranford and his father had been cool, as might be expected, since the incident of the sidesad­dle. No mention had been made of it, and the two men had frequently partaken of their meals together, when a desultory conversation ensued between them, but it was not the father’s habit to apologize for his mistakes nor the son’s to concern himself overmuch with being misunderstood. Lord Chessels had some stake in not antagonizing his son to the point where Cranford abandoned Ashwicke Park and his pursuit of Tre­lenny. For his part, Cranford had his own reasons for continuing his suit, and he was inured by past experience to his father’s uncontrolled temper.

  When Cranford returned to Ashwicke Park he sought an interview with Lord Chessels, who was perusing the Shooting Directory in the Lower Saloon, his feet propped up on a stool whose embroidered cover Cranford could remember his mother patiently laboring over.

  “I wanted to let you know that I will be leaving tomor­row for Bath. I—”

  Lord Chessels flung the magazine from him. “Damn you! You haven’t made the least push to engage that girl’s affections! Now you’re wanting to run off and enjoy yourself at some mushroomy watering hole. Don’t think I’ll stand the blunt, my boy. Not a tuppence will you see from me.”

  “Sir, I am escorting Mrs. and Miss Storwood there, and I had not the least intention of asking you for money. You should not let this raise your hopes as to a match, however, as Miss Storwood has in effect told me that she won’t have me. It is nonetheless an opportunity for us to become better acquainted, which may or may not prove beneficial.” Cran­ford stooped to pick up the magazine which lay at his feet, and straightened it out before handing it to his father.

  Lord Chessels grunted. “You should take the traveling carriage. If you go post you’ll not have an opportunity to sit in the carriage with them now and again. It’s well sprung; I had it worked over not six months past.”

  “I’ll be gone a month.”

  “I won’t be needing it. Take it, and the coachman, too. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to let the chit see anything of the world, mind you. You’d do better to keep her here, but I suppose they would go without you. Bath. Hmmm. Not likely to meet anyone interesting there. Place is filled with mush­rooms and toad-eaters these days, not like it was when I first went there. Chits, the place is filled with them. At least it’s not London. You can be grateful for that.”

  “I am.”

  “Yes, well, take the carriage and see you make a push for the girl.”

  “I will.”

  “You’ll need to impress her. Make a bit of a splash. You can ask Jenkins for two hundred.”

  “Thank you, sir, but I won’t need it. If you will excuse me, I must see to my packing.”

  a Despite his curiosity as to how his son could afford such trip, Lord Chessels refused to ask. His parting shot was, “Don’t be boring them with your talk of ruins. Nobody’s interested and nothing is surer to make the chit look around for a livelier companion!”

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  As Mrs. Storwood had predicted, her husband was surprised by the haste with which his family intended to depart, but he was not averse to their going, especially when Mrs. Storwood exaggerated Cousin Filkins’ thoughtfulness in staying to keep him company. “For you know, James, he said practically the minute he arrived that it was a shame that Trelenny could not see a bit of society. Is it not fortuitous that he should be here just when Cranford is planning a trip to Bath? I think it would be wrong of us to pass up this opportunity, don’t you? Perhaps if Trelenny has the chance to see a bit of the world she will be more willing to settle down. It’s not that I don’t expect her to enjoy herself, you under­stand, but she will find that society is very restrictive and that marriage offers her more freedom than she expects. Shall we go, James? Will you be comfortable here with your cous­in?”

  “Of course you shall go. You know it is the bane of my life that my weakness keeps us here unendingly,” he said sadly.

  “Oh, James, don’t be absurd. I have no desire to be anywhere but with you.” She touched his cheek with gentle fingers. “But Trelenny—it’s different for her. She feels that she’s missing something, that there is a better life to be had elsewhere. I’m afraid she has a restless spirit, which is not to say I think that is wrong, but very unfortunate in our circumstances. Oh, I shall miss you, my love.” She turned away to hide a trembling lip. “It frightens me a little, you know, after all these years to think of taking her to balls and parties. If it were not for Cranford escorting us, and Elsa Waplington being there...”

  He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. “Cour­age, my dear. I will only be happy knowing you are enjoying yourself.”

  Mrs. Storwood forced a tremulous smile. “I shall get my pleasure through Trelenny. She’s so eager, so lively, so—”

  “So incorrigible,” he murmured with a crooked grin. “She’ll be a handful, but I rely on Cranford to see she comes to no harm. He has never put his suit to the touch, has he?”

  “No. Trelenny leads him a bit of a dance, James, and I cannot think he fully approves of her. This scheme may be his way of. . . oh, showing her how she should go on. You know I have tried.”

  “We have all tried, my love, but I have a great deal of faith in Cranford. For all her whimsical flights and her offhanded treatment of him, Trelenny has a measure of trust in him, which is not a bad starting point for a successful marriage. No, no, I won’t say a word of the matter to her. You are quite right—pressure only makes her stubborn. Go and enjoy yourselves, and don’t worry about me. Cousin Filkins and I will do famously.”

  So Mrs. Storwood had left to do her packing, her eyes moist and her throat aching, but with the knowledge that her husband need not suffer the agonies of hearing the truth about his despicable cousin. Trelenny was already in her mother’s bedchamber directing her maid to have a small trunk sent up.

  “We shan’t want a great deal of luggage, Mama, for that would simply be a nuisance. Shall I help you choose what gowns to take?” Only when her mother came close did she notice the strangely sparkling eyes. “Oh, Mama, are you all right? If you don’t wish to go, then we won’t. I didn’t know it would make you sad.”

  “Nonsense. I am just having my bout of homesickness before we leave, dearest. Your Papa is pleased for us, but I. . . I shall miss him dreadfully.”

  “Of course you will. But it is only a month, not so very long after all. Why, he will hardly notice we’re gone, the time will pass so quickly. You do want to go, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I want you to see Bath and go to parties and have a little come-out of your own. I want Mrs. Waplington to meet you, and I want to see you stand up at the Assem­blies.”

  Trelenny experienced a feeling of guilt. “And won’t you be happy to see Mrs. Waplington again, Mama? And you shall dance at the Rooms, too.”

  “Silly girl. I’m far too old for such stuff.”

  “You’re only eight and thirty!” her daughter protested. “I have every intention of cutting a dash at least until I’m forty. Papa
would want you to dance, and I am sure all the older men will see that you are beautiful still. And I don’t care if you cast me into the shade! I don’t want to go if you’re not going to have a good time.”

  Mrs. Storwood patted her cheek. “I have every intention of enjoying myself, Trelenny. Run along now and see to your own packing.”

  “Do you think Papa would let me have my quarter’s allowance now? It’s only a few weeks early.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s arranging it at this very moment. Don’t forget to thank him for giving his permission when you go to see him, and don’t mention Cousin Filkins at all, or you are likely to say more than you intend.”

  “Yes, Mama, and thank you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Trelenny carefully divided her money into two piles, slipping the smaller into her reticule and the rest into a leather draw-string pouch. From outside came the sounds of arrival, and she took one last hasty look about her bedcham­ber before closing the door behind her and hurrying down the stairs. Although Cousin Filkins stood in the hallway with her parents, she never gave him a thought as she came up to them, breathlessly exclaiming, “He’s here! I heard the car­riage.”

  As though summoned by her words, there was a rap at the door and Cranford, impeccably dressed in riding clothes, was shown in. “My father has offered us the use of his traveling carriage, so I hope you have not been too sparing in your luggage,” he told Mrs. Storwood before he shook hands with her husband and offered a curt nod to Filkins, who had moved back from the group. With a practiced eye he took in Trelenny’s carriage dress of green Merino and her cloak of a deeper green gros de Berlin lined with chinchilla. “Very sensible, Trelenny. We are likely to encounter some chill weather as we travel.”

  “That’s why I wore it,” she assured him pertly. “It had nothing to do with the fact that it is my most handsome carriage dress, or that I had a matching muff in which to keep my reticule. I wore it because it is comfortable and warm, and I knew you would approve.” She thrust a toe forward from under her skirt. “I even wore my kid half-boots so my feet would be warm, too, and not because I love the chestnut color and they are spanking new.”

  Unperturbed by her sarcasm, Cranford merely nodded and turned to her father. “I will take good care of them, sir, and you should look for our return in about a month. A message sent care of the White Hart will reach me, though I may not stay there the entire time. There are usually houses to be had in Camden Place or Queen Square, but rest as­sured that I will find a suitable situation for the ladies. I have sent off an inquiry to a friend of mine who will have some information for us by the time we arrive, no doubt.”

  “I have every confidence in you, my boy,” Mr. Storwood said as Trelenny stood staring at Cranford. “We’ll just have their luggage put up and you may be off. Do you think you can make Preston tonight?”

  Never once had it occurred to Trelenny that Cranford had been to Bath before. In her mind she had been offering him a treat, if a limited one, a chance to see some Roman antiquities, if he could find them, which were sure to be a source of interest. While the carriage was being loaded and her mother and father talked quietly to one side, she marched up to Cranford. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “That you have been there before! Oh, you have spoiled everything!”

  “You’ve lost me, Trelenny. What difference can it possi­bly make that I’ve been to Bath before?” He raised an impatient eyebrow as he watched the small trunk being strapped to the roof of the carriage.

  “There is no reason at all for you to go, if you’ve seen all those old stones before.”

  “I didn’t have time to look out antiquities when I was there previously. Do be a good girl and get in the carriage. I want to get started before your mother sheds any tears, and the longer we stay, the more likely that is.” He watched nervously as Mrs. Storwood clung to her husband’s arm with one hand and helplessly gripped a limp handkerchief in the other.

  “Here.” Trelenny thrust the leather pouch into his hands and left him with a swish of her skirts. The footman assisted her into the carriage and she called lightly to her mother, “We are ready to go, Mama. Goodbye, Papa. We will miss you."

  Cranford absently stuck the pouch in the pocket of his coat and nodded his thanks to Trelenny, who glared at him in return. Lord, wasn’t the girl ever pleased? Gently he disen­gaged Mrs. Storwood from her husband and handed her into the carriage, saying, “I shall ride for the first two stages, ma’am. If you need anything, have Trelenny call for me. There are warm bricks for your feet, and a carriage rug,” he instructed the maid, who was already seated across from the two ladies.

  The coachman set his horses into motion at a signal from Cranford, and Mrs. Storwood waved until they were out of sight, whereupon she quietly wept into her handkerchief and Trelenny put her arm about her to comfort her. Cranford stayed to have a word with Mr. Storwood.

  “Very good of you to take them with you, Cranford,” the older man said gruffly. “I’ve made a rough reckoning what the trip will cost, and their lodgings, and doodahs and such, and it’s all here in this purse. I hope you won’t mind being Mrs. Storwood’s banker, for she’s a bit rusty at this sort of thing. You have only to write for more should this be insufficient. It’s been so long since I’ve been away that I doubled what it would have been years ago, but that might not be enough. Trelenny has her own pocket money, of course, though I don’t expect her to buy any new gowns out of it—there’s hardly enough! But she’s to have what she wants, provided her mother agrees. I just don’t want her to have so much that it burns a hole in her pocket, so to speak.”

  “Well, she won’t lose it, sir. She assured me once that she’s never lost so much as a tuppence,” Cranford replied with a rueful grin.

  “She’s not as shatterbrained as she sometimes appears, and she’s a good-hearted girl, when all is said and done. Mind you, she’s not been anywhere before, and her mother will tell her how to go on, but I depend on you to see that she gets in no trouble. It’s a large responsibility, I know, but you aspire to her hand and it is in your own interest to see she behaves herself.” He stared for a moment at the spot where the carriage had disappeared from view and then transferred his gaze to his companion. “Not with a heavy hand, Cranford. She’s spirited and she resents being told what to do. If you explain why something is wrong, she is much more willing to listen. Will you remember that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you. I won’t keep you longer. My two most precious treasures are in your care, and I know you will justify my faith in you. God bless you, my boy.”

  If Lord Chessels had once in his life addressed himself in such a way to his son, Cranford could have forgotten all the verbal and physical abuse he had suffered under that tyrant. Pushing aside his regrets, he shook hands now with Trelen­ny’s father as he said, “I’m honored by your trust, Mr. Storwood, and I’ll do my best to see that the ladies enjoy themselves and have no worries. Take care of yourself, sir.”

  Not until Cranford had called a halt for refreshments in Burton, and he was overseeing the unharnessing of the horses and instructing that a new team be ready in an hour, did he remember the pouch that Trelenny had thrust upon him before their departure. He pulled it out now and counted fifteen guineas before replacing it in his pocket, surprised that she, too, apparently wished him to be her banker for the trip. As he entered the inn he was directed to a private parlor where he found her alone.

  “Mama is just washing off some of the dust, Cranford. I have ordered a plate of meats and cheese, with some bread and tea. Will that do?”

  “Certainly. One would think you have been traveling all your life,” he teased her.

  “It’s not so very difficult, but Mama is a bit blue devilled, you see, and I didn't want her to have the bother.”

  Cranford jingled the pouch in his pocket, smiling. “I think you are wise to have me look after your allowance, Trelenny
. I’ll take care not to lose it.”

  Her brows drew together in a frown and she shook her head firmly. “No, that is money to pay for our posting charges. I know how you are situated, and this trip was my idea, so I am responsible for the extra expense to you. Papa will have given you money for our lodging, of course, but he thinks you intended to go to Bath and would have had that expense yourself. At least, I suppose that is how he would view the matter. I haven’t enough to pay for your lodging in Bath, as I have to have some money for fripperies or Mama will wonder what I have done with my allowance, but I shall be able to repay you at Christmas."

  One point in her whole recitation stood out in his mind above all the others. His angry eyes raked her face. “How do you know my circumstances?”

  “Why, I heard Papa tell Mama years ago. Lord Chessels bragged of it, I think, but Papa was very upset and called it a dastardly thing to do. And I agree!”

  “It is no concern of yours, Trelenny, and I don’t want your money, or need it, for that matter.” He set the pouch down on the table with a thump as Mrs. Storwood entered.

  “Ah, Cranford. I hope you plan to ride in with us this afternoon, for your father’s carriage is admirably sprung. Didn’t you think so, Trelenny? My dear, you should not leave your money sitting about. It’s not that I don’t trust the servants (though it is a public inn and one can never be too careful), but you might forget it when we leave. Why don’t you have Cranford keep it for you? That would be safest of all, I think.”

  “Yes, I will have Cranford keep it,” Trelenny said with a demure glance in his direction. “You won’t mind, will you, Cranford?”

  “No.” He pocketed the pouch once again, but after he had seated her mother and come around to hold a chair for her, he murmured in her ear, “It is your money. When you want it, just ask me for it.”

  Trelenny effected not to hear him but began to pour the tea, which had already arrived. “Would you prefer beer or wine, Cranford? I didn’t know, so I just ordered the tea. Oh, good, here are the meat and cheese. I don’t know how one can develop such an appetite simply sitting in a carriage all morning, but I’m famished.”