Enchanted Summer: (Regency Romance)

by Gay, Gloria

"Perhaps they have a reasonable excuse," said Mrs. Meade, not wanting to cast a pall on their first meeting with Worth, and place in jeopardy the luxurious life that now lay before them.

  "Oh, darling, that is beautiful," said Mrs. Meade as Bella came now before them in a walking dress of cobalt blue merino with a matching pelisse and a grey rabbit fur muff. Celia had insisted in a warm gown for going outdoors, overriding her mother and Bella's objections. Impractical as they both were, they would have spent their limited resources on gauze and silk, with never a thought for the biting winter that would come after their summer here. Bella had also donned the matching bonnet of thick wool with a rim of the same fur and silk ribbons and now Mrs. Meade's eyes shone with pride as she gazed at the vision of beauty before her.

  "Celia, does not Bella look like a doll right out of a box?"

  "Yes, she does," said Celia, impressed in spite of her resolution not to comment so much on Bella's beauty.

  Bella went back to her bedroom to change into the fourth gown and Celia gazed around her. The suite of rooms assigned to them in the east wing was made up of two large and two smaller ones. Celia insisted her mother and Bella take the two larger ones while she would settle on one of the smaller ones that had an attached alcove and Fred would take the other.

  She would use the alcove as a studio for it was almost as large as her bedroom and looked forward to setting it up with much anticipation. Apparently the alcove in the smaller room that she had chosen for herself had at one time been used as a schoolroom for there were signs of study on the worn scratched surface of a long narrow table on which she would make sketches. There was also a cabinet that could hold all her brushes and paints.

  Celia had never had so much room for her art things and she thought she would spend some time arranging her study, finding the best place for her easel and paints and brushes and rearranging the furniture. As these two rooms were in a corner, the bedroom had a window that faced east and the alcove a window that faced north.

  She was as excited and happy with the anticipation of working in her studio as Bella was in her new wardrobe. She also looked forward to exploring the pretty grounds and the small wood that belonged to Rook's End which she could see from the window. Beyond the wood and in the far distance, the square turrets of Shelton Hall rose above a dark forest that adjoined the Delaney land.

  CHAPTER 4

  Later on in the morning, and seeing that they had the house to themselves until the evening, Celia decided to take a walk in the wooded area. The air of early summer was still chilly refusing to let go of spring. She put on her sturdy new boots and her new burgundy walking dress with its warm cloak and went and asked Bella and her mother if they would like to join her. Both declined, for they were excited about the only new clothes they had had in years and anticipated a happy day indoors prancing around in them and showing them off to each other in their large bedroom suite.

  Celia was happier at being alone with her thoughts, for she had much to think about and she was always able to do this better when she walked.

  She went down the elegant winding stairs, catching sight of parlor maids at their chores and found her way out the back door. She crossed the large formal garden filled with late spring roses and headed toward the wood, breathing the jasmine and lavender from the gardens and glad to be alive, no matter that there were many things unsettling her.

  The responsibility of her family had lifted from her shoulders, or at least it was now to be shared by Uncle Worth.

  How big a price they were to pay for it she was still not sure, for certainly their reception was not a good omen.

  Thoughts crisscrossed her mind and before long she was deep into the wood, enjoying the fresh scent of laurel and the sounds of scurrying animals, the twittering of birds and the cool air in a morning redolent of rosemary, laurel and pine. How wonderful it was not to smell the acrid smells and coal smoke of the city and instead breathe air scented with myriad lovely scents. Although she loved the hustle and bustle of the great metropolis and had been happy to be in the most important city in the world, she still felt that the conditions in which they had lived there detracted from their enjoyment of it. It was also a good rest from air heavy with coal smoke where you felt that if you raised your arm you could touch the heavy dark clouds that oppressed the space above you.

  Celia’s new clothes added to her feeling of well-being as she felt the bracken under her well-made calf boots and felt her cape with its fur collar pleasantly warm against the cool air. Looking ahead to the winter, Celia had insisted that she, her mother and Bella all have double wool long capes with hoods; this against her mother’s insistence that they should not worry about winter when they were only approaching the first days of summer. Celia’s was in a rich butterscotch color with a darker fur rim along the hood. Bella had chosen a lavender cape with white fur on the hood that contrasted with her dark hair while their mother had chosen her cape in royal blue, all the time insisting the money would be better spent on light spring and summer coats, that they should not spend any of their funds for autumn or winter garb.

  Celia realized what a good feeling new, well cut clothes gave one and felt and determined to concentrate on the brighter aspects of their new life rather than on the darker ones still yet to be resolved, such as the obvious enmity from Caroline that she had already displayed by ignoring their arrival.

  And having the responsibility of her family lightened for her she would now be able to concentrate more on her painting. Her goal was to be able to become independent from the sale of sketches and portraits and then be able to paint anything she pleased, for however much her family enjoyed being now Uncle Worth's wards, Celia had no intention of being herself dependent on Uncle Worth for the rest of her life.

  In spite of their dependent position, Bella, being young and beautiful might make a match even though she had no dowry. As for herself, Celia knew that being outside of society had given her the freedom to paint which she would have to fight hard to keep in her new surroundings.

  Society did not look well on female painters, though female writers were grudgingly accepted, as was the talented and famous Jane Austin. But Jane Austen was the exception, women were still forced to write under men’s names.

  When Celia was eight or nine she had asked her mother if she was pretty. Her mother had answered that she was "passable." Celia had asked her mother to explain. Margaretta had brushed the explanation aside by admonishing her not to think too much about her appearance, an admonishment she never deemed necessary to use on Bella.

  Celia had found out from others what the word meant and for a day or two was unhappy that it meant she wasn't really pretty. Celia had never asked her mother again about her looks and though as she grew up she had turned into a very attractive young woman she unconsciously retained in her mind that "passable" description of herself.

  Celia was not beautiful in the accepted mode of the day, which was a round and child-like face, fair curls and rounded figure. This cupid-like ideal had been carried to such extremes that foolish girls often stuffed cotton wads in their cheeks to make them rounder and this in turn made them speak with a lisp, which also became a fad.

  Celia had hair the color of dark honey, crystal green eyes and high cheekbones, a slender figure and a light attractive walk. Her cheekbones were a favorite subject with her mother, who never tired of advising her to stuff pads in them if she had any hopes of ever getting married. "Those angles in your face keep you from attracting the right gentleman, Celia."

  "The gentleman who is attracted to me, if there ever is one,” Celia had countered, “must be happy with me and the ‘angles’ in my cheeks as you describe them, for it would be quite an effort for me to mentally be separating the wads from the food I eat so that I don’t choke on a wad stuck to my throat were I to be foolish enough to follow your advice.”

  Mrs. Meade often sighed on looking at her daughter Celia. She was as beyond her control as a wild colt, and looked it too.r />
  Celia was beautiful in a manner very different from Bella’s. Often, the light fell on her in such a way that it brought out the honey tones in her hair and lend a glow to her beautiful complexion and the rosiness of her full lips. She was the equal of her sister in beauty and at times even surpassed her.

  Celia enjoyed her walk, chasing unsettling thoughts from her mind. It was a perfect day and she determined to enjoy it. There was a woodsy scent and the breeze was skipping about lightly under the sun which peeked behind clouds and now and then made an appearance.

  Finally the sun, now freed from scud clouds lit up the path she was following. The stillness of the wood was disturbed only by the occasional scurrying of squirrels and rabbits and the chirping of birds. Celia stopped now and then to enjoy a cascade of bluebells and wood sorrel, ferns with web-like leaves as delicate as the breeze and moss hanging on the trunks of the trees.

  She followed tiny lanes that branched off the main path and was certain there would come a time when she would know this little wood better than anyone else.

  Finally, she reached an opening where a crescent-shaped meadow marked the border where land belonging to Shelton Hall began.

  She was tempted to cross the meadow that smelled of wet earth and grass and roots of spring wildflowers breaking through the earth.

  Uncle Worth, on describing his estate, had once told her that the Delaney woods were not used for hunting, not being stocked with enough pheasants, and that Tom preferred hunting at Lowell Manor with his friends there. So much the better, she thought, for she was sure to have the wood to herself and not be surprised by the sound of gunshot. She didn't know what habits the Shelton people had but she would ask Uncle Worth.

  She realized she had left the end of the Delaney wood sometime back and a great field was between the two forested areas. In the distance, across a crescent-shaped field cleared of trees, the Shelton Forest beckoned to her and a thrill quivered through her. Would she dare enter the dense forest? The dark forest ahead called to her and the temptation was great to walk into it for just a short distance. The silence was palpable and there was no one about, only the noises made by small animals scurrying at her approach.

  She hesitated only for a few moments, then directed her steps into the forest and along what looked like a well-trotted path. The Delaney wood was also separated from the Shelton forest by a creek. Also, a sign posted by the creek delineated the start of the Shelton forest. These directions made any excuse of having lost her way impossible to insist on.

  She had known from her prior visit that the families were on very friendly terms and the bare space between the wood and the forest as well as the bubbling creek was enough. No fence ran along the creek.

  Celia had learned from Miss Molly that the Delaneys were welcome to walk in Shelton Forest. She now belonged to the Delaney household, did she not?

  She skipped over the smooth stones in the creek and continued her walk along a smooth path into the Shelton forest.

  Celia enjoyed the signs of late spring in the denser and thicker woods and of pale green growth and scattered wildflowers among gorse bushes and heather and bracken crunching under her boots. Coos from pigeons now and then broke into the quiet and the density of the forest forbade looking too much ahead and as she followed a thickly treed sharp turn on the path she ran smack into a man who had turned into the path coming from the opposite direction.

  Celia cried out in alarm as both she and the man bounced back away from each other from the impact.

  Then Celia looked up into the startled face of Lord Merrick.

  "I – I beg your pardon – " she stammered. She was trespassing and felt her face hot with embarrassment at the realization of who had caught her at it.

  "Who – " frowning, Lord Merrick was about to ask who she was, then suddenly stopped his exclamation with a happy glint of recognition in his eyes.

  “Miss Meade!”

  "Yes, my lord,” Celia answered, as she curtsied and felt a blush steal up her face.

  “I had been told by your friend, Miss Molly, that you were to move to Rook’s End. I was extremely pleased to hear that, Miss Meade. In fact, I asked her about you!”

  “Thank you, my lord. I’m – I’m sorry I was trespassing.”

  "Please don’t apologize, Miss Meade. I’m delighted that you’re walking here. You’re welcome do so whenever you want. Forgive me if I was surprised and may have sounded gruff. I never see anyone here other than the gamekeeper. You quite startled me."

  "I just thought I'd walk a little way in and then turn back. It seemed so beautiful with the signs off spring. Your forest is much more – I should say beautiful as a contrast to the Delaney wood which is merely a charming little wood."

  "The Delaneys are our neighbors and they are free to walk through here if they so desire, as are their guests. They just never do so,” said Lord Merrick.

  “I was lost in thought and not expecting to meet anyone,” he added with a wide smile. “We have a gamekeeper, but he has gone into town for supplies. I don't know of any girls that would walk in a thick forest such as this by themselves, Miss Meade. I advise you to carry a stick when you do. A dog scurrying ahead of you would also help but if you haven’t a dog,” he said, a stick will do."

  "Are there any dangers in the forest?" she asked. “Are there—uh—poachers?”

  “Poachers become invisible. They really disappear at the sign of anyone likely to see them. The stick would be to scare away any small creature that should get too close to you."

  "Are there any foxes?”

  “Only occasionally you might see a fox but they also scurry away from you. Yet I cannot be certain one would not rush onto you just from being startled by your approach. So that’s why I advise you to carry a cane.”

  “I shall heed your advice,” Celia said with a wide smile. “I do so like to walk," she added.

  “You’re very welcome to do so here, then,” Robert Merrick answered her smile with one of his own.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  "Would you like to walk along the path with me?" he asked, "I would much rather show you the forest myself on your first visit," he added. His beagle had sat quietly at his feet while he spoke with Celia.

  “Yes, I would like that very much,” Celia replied and turned to look at his dog. She had always wanted to have a dog but it would have been just one more mouth to feed.

  “What’s your dog’s name?”

  “Ready,” Lord Merrick replied with a wide smile.

  “I like his name, but why ‘Ready’?”

  “He’s always ready for a walk—ready for anything, really! Springs up quickly when he feels I’m heading out anywhere.”

  Celia caressed Ready under his chin and the dog turned to lick her hand.

  "I’m just as eager for a walk as Ready is, my Lord,” she said, “but I hope I’m not keeping you from what you were doing." The fact that there was no one to chaperone her skipped over Celia’s mind without making any impression. To her way of thinking, she was twenty-six years old and quite able to walk with a gentleman without the need of a chaperone. Bella, however, would probably need to be chaperoned well into her late twenties if she didn’t marry before, because of her rash and impulsive nature.

  "I was doing nothing other than walking through the forest myself,” said Lord Merrick, bringing Celia back from her musings. “I have been in London these last two weeks on Parliamentary duties and I always come to the forest as soon as I return from any journey. It seems to make me feel more at home than anything else ever does."

  “It must also clean your lungs,” said Celia. “Just when I ran into you I was thinking how wonderful it smelled – so different from sooty London with its endless coal burning chimneys.”

  Again disquieting thoughts made Celia wonder how this would look if ever anyone found out about it. It was not an age in which a girl could walk without chaperone in a secluded place with a man, no matter her age.

  Bu
t she had long been her own mistress – as de facto head of her family.

  CHAPTER 5

  Lord Merrick had been absorbed the past year with his father, who had had very serious health problems. But although still an invalid, he was past the danger. Although Lord Merrick had had the intention of contacting Celia Meade, he had been prevented from it by his father’s extreme illness.

  Celia and Lord Merrick walked for quite some time in silence.

  Finally, Merrick broke the silence. "How long has this transfer here been in the planning?" he asked as they strolled along the path that was encroached on by thickly-placed firs and pines interspersed with beeches.

  "For over a month," answered Celia.

  "Miss Delaney never mentioned it," he said, "I should think – " he stopped himself and walked on in silence. He stole a glance at her and thought how pleasingly the golden light filtering through the trees fell on her honey-colored hair, and admired her slender figure and her graceful stride. He suppressed a sigh when his eyes fell on her green eyes that were rimmed thickly with dark lashes.

  Not a thing about Celia escaped him as she walked thoughtfully beside him. She might have been a wood nymph from the way he had fallen under her spell, he thought wryly, and remembered that day a year ago when she had been introduced to him in a hurried manner that precluded any conversation, for Caroline Delaney had pulled him away shortly after and had changed the conversation whenever he had asked about her, refusing to give him any information concerning Miss Meade.

  Even though she had worn dark shapeless clothing very much out of style he had been intensely drawn to her but a few days later his life had been upended by his father's deteriorating health when he suffered a second stroke.

  Lord Merrick pointed out points of interest as they walked, such as a large gnarled tree that stood in the center of a tiny meadow and which seemed to be holding court, with lesser trees around it.

  "Oh, what a wonderful old tree," exclaimed Celia as they halted before it and gazed at the huge exposed roots.