Old Acquaintances: Christmas Regency Tale (Regency Tales Book 2) (2 page)

              The girl cast a glance down at her gray pelisse and, apparently realizing that it was futile to deny the truth of Miss Grantham’s observation, she sighed. Her china-blue eyes bravely met Judith’s gaze. “Since you have found me out, I shall not try to hoodwink you, ma’am. I am running away from my guardian, who is a detestable beast. And though I do appreciate your kindness in carrying me to the next posting house, I hope that you do not feel compelled to persuade me to change my mind. I am quite determined never to return to my cousin’s domination.”

              Judith was silent a moment. “I see. Pray, what is your name?”

              The girl hesitated briefly and then she shrugged. “I doubt that it signifies, for I shall not see you again. I am Cecily Brown. I hope that you are not too offended that I do not divulge my direction as well, but you must see that simply would not do.”

              The name meant nothing to Judith and she was disappointed. If by remote chance she had heard of the girl’s family, as a family acquaintance she might have been able to offer the hospitality of Elmswood Hall and perhaps provided a neutral ground upon which the girl and her guardian could thrash out their differences. As it was, she knew that she could do little but offer the girl some food for thought.

              “Cecily, have you perfectly thought out what you are attempting? I know nothing of your circumstances, but surely your guardian would not wish you to disappear without some assurance of your continued well-being. And pray, how do you intend to live? Do you have relatives or friends who would be willing to take you in?”

              Cecily shook her head. “I have no one but my cousin. And as for him, I think that he will be heartily glad that I am gone. He never wished to have me cast on him, you see, and that is why he came up with his horrid notion to marry me to the first gentleman that he found acceptable.” Her bosom rose as deep indignation overcame her. “Miss Grantham, the gentleman is twice my age and he is bald and he smokes a cigar, which I cannot at all abide! I shall not marry him, I shall not!”

              There was a hint of hysteria in her voice that Judith was quick to note. “The gentleman in question is not clamoring for your hand at this moment, so you may rest easy for a while yet,” she said with deliberate callousness.

              After a stunned moment, Cecily unwillingly laughed. “I am sorry, Miss Grantham! I never meant to treat you to a turn of drama. Only it is all so idiotic. Why, I have not even been brought out. I think it frightfully unfair of Per-of my cousin. I should so like to go to London.” She ended on such a wistful note that it touched the older woman’s heart.

Judith shook her head. It would not do to become too sympathetic. Cecily’s story struck such chords of understanding within her and it was an effort to recall that there was another side. The overbearing guardian may have had his reasons. There, it is plain whose side I have aligned myself with, thought Judith with exasperation. Overbearing, indeed! And he very likely wears a corset and helps himself too liberally to snuff, she thought whimsically. Aloud, she said, “Cecily, in all conscience I must ask you to reconsider your ill-considered flight. I would feel responsible if something untoward should happen to you once I have set you down.”

“Of course I appreciate your sentiments, Miss Grantham. But truly, I am quite capable of caring for myself. I have had the splendid notion to enter service, you see, and so I shall do very well,” said Cecily with bright confidence, her beautiful eyes shining from beneath the longest black lashes that Judith had ever seen on a female.

“Oh, my dear,” she said helplessly, her gaze traveling from Cecily’s lovely fresh face to her slender figure and back again. She took a breath. “I am sorry to inform you of it, Cecily, but no one is likely to hire anyone quite as pretty as you are. Except perhaps just the sort of gentleman that you are so adamant against marrying. And I fear that it will not be the gentleman’s cigar smoke that you would find particularly objectionable, but his attempts to-to steal a kiss.” She felt herself entirely inadequate at relaying the realities of the world to a young girl such as Cecily and she waited somewhat uncomfortably for her companion’s inevitable query for enlightenment.

But Cecily’s expression was not one of confusion. She looked surprised, then thoughtful. “Once, as a small child, I surprised Papa with one of the maids. I suppose that is the sort of thing you mean. No, I should not care for that. Perhaps I shall become a mantua maker instead.”

Judith was taken aback. “Cecily, do I perfectly understand what you are saying about your father?”

“Oh, yes. Before Papa died, he was a bit of a rake. And though I do not know precisely, I suppose it meant he was quite fond of maids,” said Cecily with an innocent and inquiring glance.

Judith sat back against the seat, her breath quite knocked out of her. “Indeed, I suppose so,” she said weakly, clearing her throat. When Cecily turned her head away to glance out of the carriage window, where the day could be seen as fast growing dim, Judith studied her profile with a mixture of astonishment and bewildered estimation. She was fast coming to realize that Cecily Brown was not an ordinary miss. Cecily presented the appearance of a schoolgirl, naïve and trusting, and yet Judith had seen depths of character and experience that belonged to someone several years older.

Her determination not to fall in with her guardian’s wishes was perhaps nothing much out of the common way, but coupled as it was to her ability to act upon her decisions made Cecily unusual indeed, thought Judith, remembering a young girl who had not had the same courage of her convictions. As for Cecily’s casual reference to her father’s peccadillo and her acceptance of it, Judith thought she was never more shocked in her life. She herself had known nothing of the opposite sex until her engagement. Her cheeks flushed warmly at her unbidden memories and she hastily returned her thoughts to Cecily.

Despite herself and knowing that she should not become involved more than she already was, Judith turned over in her mind what Cecily had said of her situation. There had to be something she could do to aid the girl in establishing herself happily. Judith felt that she must make some sort of effort in Cecily’s behalf, or she would always wonder what had happened to the girl.

The carriage slowed and stopped. Judith put down the window as her coachman came up to it. Snow swirled briefly with a gust of cold wind. “What is toward, Edward?” she asked.

“We have come to the posting house, miss,” said the coachman. He threw a look at the dusk sky. “I mislike the weather, Miss Judith. The wind is sharpening a bit and the snow is heavier.”

Judith made a quick decision. “I shall step down with Miss Brown for a quick cup of tea while you report the accident to the innkeeper, Edward. Then we shall go on as quickly as possible to reach Elmswood before nightfall.”

She and Cecily walked into the inn. The innkeeper’s wife recognized Judith and she expressed surprise to see her. “Miss Grantham, it is a pleasure, I am sure. It is that rare that you honor us with your company, what with Elmswood so close and all. What may I do for you?”

Judith looked about the coffee room, which was nearly deserted at that hour, and decided against bespeaking a private parlor. “I think that we shall have a strong cup of tea, and perhaps a light repast for my young friend.”

Cecily looked alarmed. “Really, I do not wish supper. I feel as though I could not swallow a bite. It is rather warm in here, is it not?”

Judith stared at her, frowning. The coffee room was warmed by the fire in the grate, but it was not so warm that Cecily should become flushed by the heat. She hoped the girl was not becoming ill. “We shall have just the tea, then.”

“Certainly, miss. It is shaping up to be a bad storm tonight. I know that you ladies will be wishful to get on to Elmswood, so I will bring the tea straight away,” said the innkeeper’s wife.

“Oh, but I shall not be going with Miss Grantham. I wish to bespeak a room for the night so that I may catch the mail coach in the morning,” said Cecily.

The innkeeper’s wife looked at her in dismay. “I am sorry, miss, but we haven’t a room to spare. What with the weather and all, we’ve had more than our share of travelers who have decided to stay until first light. If you was a gentleman, I might see if there was someone who would not mind sharing his room with a stranger. But as it is, I haven’t even a closet for a decent young lady.”

Cecily stared at the woman, speechless. She did not seem to know what to do. Judith took matters into her own hands. “My dear child, you must certainly come home with me.”

“But I cannot impose on you further, Miss Grantham. You have already been so kind,” said Cecily.

“Nonsense. It will be you who will be doing me the favor. Elmswood is very quiet this Christmas. Indeed, I would not mind it in the least if half a dozen more personages chose to become marooned on my doorstep. It would make for quite a jolly little party, don’t you think?” asked Judith in a reassuring way. Cecily responded to Judith’s jest, though her smile wavered a little.

The innkeeper’s wife saw that the matter was settled and she nodded in satisfaction. She bustled off at once for the promised tea and she was soon back, saying that she always kept a hot pot handy. Judith declined sugar but accepted milk for her tea. She saw that Cecily was fond of a very sweetened tea and it almost made her teeth hurt to watch the girl sip at the resulting syrup.

Before the ladies had quite finished their cups of tea, Edward the coachman came up to inform Judith that the innkeeper had promised to send out help to the stranded mail coach passengers. “The snow is becoming that heavy, miss, that I think it best that we get on as quick as we can,” he said, casting an anxious glance at his mistress’s cup.

“We shall go at once. Miss Brown will be accompanying us after all, Edward. I hope that you have not set down her baggage,” said Judith, rising from the table. Cecily immediately leaped up, not wishing to delay their departure and thus be any more of a burden on her benefactress.

“No, miss. That is to say, I will put it back in the carriage this instant,” said Edward.

Judith nodded and walked out of the coffee room to find the innkeeper’s wife so that she could pay the bill. With the woman’s good wishes ringing on the air, the carriage bound for Elmswood once more turned onto the icy road. Snow swirled about its dark moving shape, then it was gone into the dusk.

Chapter Three

The welcoming light and warmth of Elmswood Hall were all that Judith had hoped. The scent of fir and pine and warm wax wafted out the open door, drawing the travelers inside.

Judith was glad to step into the hall and hear the butler’s welcome. “I am happy to be home, Withers. This young lady is Miss Cecily Brown. The coach she was on had an unfortunate accident and so I have offered the hospitality of Elmswood to her. Pray see that a room is prepared for her,” she said, beginning to draw off her gloves.

“At once, Miss Grantham,” said Withers, motioning for a footman to take up the portmanteau and bandbox that had been brought in from the carriage. “I took the liberty of setting up a cold collation in the drawing room in anticipation of your arrival and I shall bring in tea in a quarter hour.”

“Bless you, Withers. That will be just time enough to change from this damp travel dress,” said Judith, bestowing a grateful smile on him. She turned to Cecily and took her hands in her own. Again she noticed how cold the girl’s slender fingers were. “The footman will show you the way to your room. I shall meet with you again in the drawing room for supper in a few minutes.”

Cecily smiled her acquiescence and then followed the footman carrying her baggage up the stairway that occupied one side of the entry hall. Her weariness was underscored by the droop of her slim shoulders. She was in no mind to demur at whatever was proposed, only wishing for rest. Through the fog that had settled over her, she noticed the festive loops of holly and fir that decorated the graceful lift of stairs. Her wavering spirits were comforted by the cheery sight. She was safe here, she thought gratefully, and stifled a yawn.

Judith watched her guest ascend, a tiny frown between her winged brows. She pulled her gloves through her fingers without being conscious of it.

The butler was thoroughly familiar with Miss Grantham’s moods and he observed this sign of perturbation with interest. He wondered what there was about Miss Brown that should prove disquieting to Miss Grantham. “Miss Grantham, will there be anything else?” he asked quietly.

Judith was startled out of her thoughts. “No, not at the moment, Withers,” she said. She walked to the stairs and swiftly went up them and thence to her bedroom. Her maid, who she had sent off earlier in a separate carriage with all of her baggage, had arrived some time before her and was waiting to help her out of the heavy travel dress. In moments, Judith was freshly attired in a long-sleeved merino gown of a soft dove gray that enhanced the smoky shade of her eyes. Her hair, freed at last of the confines of her bonnet, had been brushed into soft waves.

Judith went downstairs, thinking to join Cecily. Instead, she discovered a small group of strangers who were loosely clustered about her butler in the entry hall and besieging him with loud statements. Judith paused on the last step, her hand resting on the banister, surprised.

The woman in the group spied Judith and surged forward. “You must be Miss Grantham, then. I was just telling this fudsy-faced butler of yours that you had left word at the posting house that any who could not find a bed there would be welcome at Elmswood Hall,” she said firmly.