by Gay, Gloria
“Where is Caroline?” asked Celia. “Doesn’t she at least participate a little in the planning of a ball?”
“She won’t be bothered with it,” Margaretta said quickly, “I asked her, mind you. I won’t have her running to Worth, telling him that I took over without letting her help in anything. She’s with her hairdresser now. Her gown arrived and I took a peek at it. You never saw a lovelier, costlier gown, Celia—fit for no less than a queen. I’m afraid she’s terribly spoiled.
“And do you know she’ll have nothing to do with the management of the house? Even before we got here she left everything to the housekeeper to decide, which is why things were in such disarray when we came. It’s not mistress of Rook’s End she’s wanting for herself but…” Margaretta glanced at Celia with a knowing look.
“Mother, please.” Celia checked the gossip. There was little love lost in her for Caroline but she could not condone this constant criticism of her. It was not seemly, dependent as they were for their upkeep on her father’s benevolence.
The workers were building the platform for the orchestra. It was close to two o’clock and the musicians were to arrive at three. Margaretta went to see that the rooms the men were to sleep in after the party were in readiness and left Celia to finish doing the flowers.
Celia replaced candles that were half used with brand new ones she took out of the tissue paper in which they were wrapped, aided by Nellie. She was glad to be busy and of use and blocked any thought of Robert from her mind.
For the next three hours she was invaluable to her mother. Bella was so excited she could not be counted on for anything, nor Fred, who for the last few days had been moody and taciturn.
Many chairs had to be moved from other rooms and placed against walls of the hall and Celia directed the footmen in the best possible places to put them. A hundred details had to be looked after and constant references with the butler and the cook and kitchen staff absorbed both Celia and her mother.
“I’m going downstairs to the wine cellar with Ambrose, Celia. Could you stay here for a while and wait for the housekeeper? She is directing the girls to bring in the silver that was polished. I want you to check it over and see that they did a good job.”
“Yes, of course,” Celia answered, “Go on, Mama, I’ll take care of the silver.”
“Celia!” Bella had come down the stairs, out of breath.
“Yes, dear, what is it?” Celia asked.
“You must help me with my hair, Celia, you absolutely must, or I’ll die!”
“What’s wrong with your hair, pet? It looks all right to me.”
“You haven’t seen the back of it, Celia. It’s fallen down and I couldn’t possibly appear in public with it!”
“I’ll be with you just as soon as I look over the silver,” said Celia. “Go upstairs and wait for me in your room. I won’t be long. But you must promise not to take up too much of my time, for I still have to arrange the card room.”
“You won’t be long, will you?” begged Bella, “I’m getting so depressed with this!”
“Go on, dear, and don’t be depressed, not on such a day as this, that promises all sorts of lovely hours ahead for you.”
“Celia, do you think Jack Longard likes me?”
“Likes you, what a thought!” Celia kissed her sister. “He can hardly keep his eyes off you. You mustn’t allow any one young man to write his name in your dance card more than twice, Bella; you must be conscious that people will talk. I had to erase his name from four slots!”
“Couldn’t’ you have erased only three?”
“No. Now go on upstairs and wait for me.” Celia said, shaking her head, “I will join you shortly.”
Celia spent a pleasant hour with her sister. She always enjoyed handling her hair, which was like spun ebony silk, dark and heavy and the perfect frame for Bella’s beautiful face. Celia’s capable hands soon had it curled and pinned. Bella’s fears subsided and her humor was restored.
Bella flitted from mood to mood like a bird skipping over branches, the slightest inconvenience upsetting her for hours. Celia hoped she would soon have her married to a sensible, principled man who would guide her character, which was as yet unformed. She had bloomed late, and so seemed younger than her nineteen years, having the maturity of a girl much younger.
Celia knew little of Jack Longard, having been so preoccupied lately with her own affairs and determined that she would be more observant of his character. But she doubted the snotty Longards would permit an alliance between Jack and Bella. After leaving Bella, Celia went to check the carriage house and to make sure there would be lamps to guide the guests and grooms to aid in stationing the carriages and to tend to the horses.
As she feared, she found the place in complete confusion, with one of the grooms ill and the head groom gone to Shelton for feed. He was just arriving as she emerged from the carriage house and she informed him she wanted a talk with him. She had soon put things to right, and a message sent to a nearby neighbor for the use of two of his grooms for the night.
Lamps were placed along the driveway under her supervision and the area cleared of anything that might be hazardous to the several dozen carriages they had to provide for. Nathan, the head groom, followed her directions with alacrity and good humor. He was tall and stooped and had spindly legs and ears like half saucers, sticking out from his thin head, and brown intelligent eyes. Celia liked him and determined to have a talk with him now and then when she went on her walks.
It was amazing how much more she liked the servants than the inhabitants of Rook’s End, for with the exception of Uncle Worth, the others ignored her. Sylvia appeared willing to be friends, but was checked by Caroline. Celia would have liked Sylvia and Bella to become friends, but Caroline stood as a barrier.
It was such a disjointed household, thought Celia, with Tom always off somewhere and Caroline and Sylvia keeping to their rooms or to the houses of their friends. Celia seldom knew where any of them were, for they took no trouble to inform her, and since Uncle Worth’s business took him so often to London or Liverpool he did not form the necessary ingredient for harmony among them.
Cajoled to host a ball by Caroline, he had informed Margaretta of it and left her to fend for herself in every aspect of it. He would return from London just in time for supper and the company of his friends in the card room. He apparently forgot that his foreman, who usually oversaw the horses and mews was away from the estate and would be gone for a week. It was for this reason that Celia had had to take over the organizing of the plans for the arrival of the carriages and the lighting, as well as making sure there would be enough grooms to help with these chores.
Her mother and Bella had never been happier and were even getting used to Caroline’s snubs. Eventually, Caroline would marry and the tension she caused in the house would leave with her.
Where could Fred be? Celia wondered. He was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if her mother had seen to it that he had the proper clothes to wear at the ball.
After a few more words with Nathan and words of assurance from him, Celia went back to the house to inquire after Fred.
“I saw him leave with Master Tom around ten this morning, Miss,” answered Nellie.
“With Tom?”
“Oh, yes, they’re thick as thieves these days”
“I guess I just haven’t noticed that Tom and Fred have become friends. But then although Fred is not yet seventeen he looks and acts a lot older.”
“They’re often together and Master Tom’s friends have become Master Fred’s friends,” Nellie added. “Miss Celia, I’ve often seen Master Tom laugh out loud at something Master Fred says.”
“Yes, Fred is very amusing,” said Celia, “he has always made me laugh.” She needed Fred’s humor now, when her life had become so somber.
Nellie interrupted Celia’s thoughts. She had had her fill of Bella’s dress and she was anxious to help Celia with her toilette.
“It’s getting lat
e, Miss Celia,” she said, “shouldn’t you be getting ready? You don’t want to be rushed.”
“Yes, Nellie, you’re right,” Celia agreed, still uneasy about Fred. “Where is Mama, is she not getting ready, too?”
Oh, yes Miss! And what a grand gown she’s decked in!”
“She has finished?”
“She’s even gone downstairs to wait for Mr. Delaney.”
“Well then,” said Celia, I suppose there is nothing left but to get on with mine. She was being forced to think of the ball as an actual event and a shiver of apprehension ran through her. If there had been a way to avoid the ball she would not have hesitated. But her mother was going to need her to make a success of it. She sighed and let Nellie putter around her like a little hen, helping her with her hair and taping her stays.
“Oh Miss, I like your dress most of all,” Nellie exclaimed, her eyes wide as she took the dress from the wardrobe. “It’s that dusty peach of the wood sorrel. I wonder a cream rose from the ones we received today would enhance it.”
“No Nellie, no roses.”
“But Miss, those tea roses, some of them are just what your lovely gown needs. Please?”
“Well, all right, you goose, go on down and get me one for my sash. Might as well” she said, smiling at the wide-eyed Nellie, since I’m not wearing any jewelry.” Celia realized Nellie was going to the ball vicariously, through her. Too bad Nellie could not dance at the ball. She would certainly enjoy it more than Celia was going to.
“Oh, Nellie, it’s lovely,” Celia beamed at the beautiful rose.
“I’ll just get the scissors and take of the thorns for you, Miss Celia. There, they’re off.”
“Is Miss Bella downstairs already, Nellie?”
“No, Miss Celia. Miss Bella is taking the longest time. I’ve done for her already. She said I should come and help you.”
“Is she not downstairs then?”
“She doesn’t want to be there until a crowd has gathered.”
“I see,” said Celia. “Well, I better go on down then.”
CHAPTER 11
As she went down the stairs, Celia felt a tremor go through her, at the thought that in a few minutes her eyes would behold Robert. How she wished she would be able to see Robert now and then as a friend. She longed to hear his voice. But she knew that was not possible.
There were seldom any friendships between men and women. There were such relationships in the literary world, of course, but Celia did not and would never move around writers and poets and artists. In fact, people like Lord Byron, for instance, lived lives on the fringe of society, never really belonging. Mary Shelly, for instance lived a free sort of life, however much she was married to the poet Shelly.
Celia took her place at the receiving line. She knew that Caroline had fought tooth and nail to exclude the Meades from the receiving line but Uncle Worth had remained steadfast His sister and her children would form part of the receiving line. Celia had overheard them, for Caroline never bothered to lower her voice. In fact, she raised it when she thought the Meades might be listening.
“Margaretta is here only as our housekeeper, Papa,” she said spitefully.
“She is my cousin’s wife first,” said Uncle Worth, not meeting Caroline’s eyes. “And keeps our house second. And where do you get the idea she is a housekeeper, my dear,” added Uncle Worth. “We have a housekeeper already, Mrs. Belling. Margaretta merely oversees the staff. You have refused that job already.”
“I oversee Margaretta, Papa,” she had answered quickly.
“Do call her Aunt, dear, for she is your aunt.”
“She will never be my aunt,” Caroline had exclaimed through gritted teeth.
Celia could see Caroline’s haughty profile as she dispensed smiles according to rank. Even from a couple of paces away, Celia would have guessed the rank of each guest by Caroline’s greeting.
Poor Mr. Welty, the Vicar, and his wife received the barest nod and not even the ghost of a smile from Caroline.
It was eons removed from the smile she gave Lord Merrick, Lady Ellen and his sisters, who arrived next.
After her duty at the receiving line was done, Celia excused herself from her uncle to oversee the servants.
Later, as she sat with her mother, she was pleased to see her beaming, as she told Celia that Worth was very pleased with the arrangements and had congratulated her on them.
Celia’s dance with Scott Bannister came up and she saw him heading toward her. Celia doubted very much that she was going to dance any more than the two Scott had asked for and perhaps one with Uncle Worth.
She knew that everyone in the room was closely acquainted with Caroline and her sister and brother. And she was certain very few of the men would venture to displease her by dancing with Celia.
A few of them had scribbled their names on Bella’s card. Apparently, where such an abundance of beauty was concerned, men risked Caroline’s displeasure. Celia uttered a silent prayer for this. Had her sister become a wallflower merely because men feared Caroline, Celia’s enjoyment of the ball would have been nil.
She was glad to see Bella dancing the quadrille and she smiled in contentment as Bella glanced at Celia with a look of pure joy as she made the figures with Jack Longard.
As she began her dance with Scott Bannister, Celia noticed that Robert was keeping his distance from her. She felt a grip on her heart and knew that there was nothing she could do to alter the situation.
Scott became all-encompassing and did not permit her attention to drift from him.
“I have been away on business with my uncle,” he told her, “but now I will be entirely at your disposal, my dear Miss Meade. “And may I add,” he added with a wink, “that though I have been away in body, my mind has not been away from you for one second.”
Celia said nothing as Scott smiled down at her. He had an engaging smile and his handsome face was lit up with interest as he looked into her eyes. As Celia looked away from him her eyes fell on Robert, who stood to one side in conversation with Caroline. At that moment he happened to look up and his glance fell on her. For a painful moment they looked into each other’s eyes. Celia felt her face suddenly hot and turned away.
The dance number was coming to an end.
“You look a little uncomfortable, Miss Meade,” Scott said. “Would you like to go out on the terrace for a breath of air?”
“Yes, please,” said Celia, and Scott guided her out of the crowed ballroom and out to the starlit terrace. There were several couples chatting by the balustrade.
For a while Scott talked and Celia merely nodded now and then. Her heart was a furnace of emotions and she wished there could be a way that she could avoid going back to the ballroom.
Scott was full of plans that would bring them into each other’s company. He seemed genuinely interested in her. But as much as Celia enjoyed his company and most of all the fact that she did not have to see Robert while she was in the terrace, she knew that more than a few minutes in the terrace would be branded improper.
They returned to the ballroom. Scott was claimed by his mother. Mrs. Bannister, with a warm smile toward Celia, reminded Scott of his promise to dance with her two spinster nieces.
Celia’s attention was immediately taken over by Bella, who was on the verge of tears.
“What is it, Bella?”
“Celia, I’m so unhappy,” Bella pulled Celia away from the others. “I must speak to you, in private. I overheard Beatrice…”
Celia glanced around, and realizing no privacy could be found in the crowded ballroom, directed her sister upstairs to her bedroom.
“Tell me,” said Celia, once inside the room. She directed her sister to a chair and sat before her. Celia could see that Bella was distraught, more upset than she had ever seen her before.
“Beatrice said Jack would never marry a penniless girl like me, who had been raised among rude people and Caroline agreed!”
“What did Caroline say?”
“Well, she can’t help it, fortunately for us, pet, so dry your tears. Beatrice Longard cannot dictate to her brother, either. If Jack is attracted to you, as he seems to be, it will be up to him how he decides, not his sister.
“Jack, from what I gather, has enough of an income from his uncle that he may please himself as to his future. And if that means he chooses a beautiful girl who has no dowry, he is free to do so. I’m sure they meant for you to hear them. If Beatrice did not feel that Jack was serious in his interest in you, she would not have resorted to such low tactics.”
“Oh, Celia!” Bella’s eyes were now shining with joy. Like a child, the slightest shred of hope brought back the sunshine, “It’s no wonder Mama cannot be two days without you. She starts to become fidgety, as if the very breath had left her.”
“Nonsense, I am not anyone’s lungs,” said Celia laughing. “Come, sweet, let me put some rose water on your eyes; it will not do to become a watering pot, especially at a ball, for the proof of it is there on your face, for all to see.”
With artful use of cologne and powder, Celia managed to restore normalcy to Bella’s face.
“Let’s go down,” she said when she had finished. “If we disappear from the ball, Mama will be fidgeting, as you say, wondering what’s become of us.”
Celia and Bella re-entered the ballroom just as a dance number was coming to its conclusion and soon joined a small group of friends.
The minutes ticked away in the noise and bustle and the music and Celia felt light-headed from the weight of her anxiety.
Wrapped in her thoughts she did not hear Robert’s approach and he was already before her, asking her for the next waltz before she realized it. She gave her hand to him in silence and he guided her to the dance floor as the orchestra filled the room with a lilting Viennese waltz.
Celia glided in Robert’s arm in perfect step and floated as in a dream. She could feel the nearness of him, the vague male scent under sandalwood and soap and the grip of his hand on hers that sent little shooting darts throughout her body. This was the only way they could be together, formally, and among dozens of guests.
