Holiday in Bath (11 page)

Upbraiding himself for his failure to view his undertaking with the proper detachment, he peeked into the hall to make sure all was quiet and returned to lift her in his arms, tuck the clothes under his elbow and carry her to her room, where he settled her in a chair before releasing any remaining pins from her hair. Did she sleep with it loose? It waved softly about her face and came nearly to her waist and, as he lifted her once again to convey her to the bed, he could feel the silkiness of it against his chin.

As he settled her on the bed, she mumbled something incoherent and he put a finger against her lips to still her voice. Unconsciously she kissed the finger and he regarded her perplexedly as he pulled the bedclothes over her, unaccountably bending down to kiss her forehead before he withdrew. Surely he had been in scrapes enough that he should sympathize with Trelenny for her absurd adventures; and he would have, perhaps, if she were merely a friend. In a potential wife it was another matter altogether.

Trelenny awoke in the morning when Alice entered with a tea tray, and for a moment she could not imagine why she felt so decidedly ill. On the other bed her mother moved to a sitting position for Alice to set her tray on her lap, then she turned to smile at her daughter. “For all it is not the best inn I have ever visited, I must say I have seldom had a better night away from home. And you, my love? You know, Trelenny, you are looking a bit peaked. Do you feel well? I hope you aren’t coming down with something,” she said anxiously.

“No, no. I fear I did not sleep as well as you, Mama.” Trelenny glanced down at her nightdress and touched the hair that lay about her shoulders. It was not her habit to loose her hair at night, but to braid it and then brush it out in the morning. A deep flush rose in her cheeks. “I.. . I have not spent a night away from home in ages, since you and Papa took me to York years ago, and the unfamiliarity—”

Her mother smiled. “Your color is better now, I think,’ love. You’ll get used to sleeping in strange beds and eating in strange places. It’s all a part of traveling.”

“Yes.” The tea tray was set on her lap and she busied herself in adding milk and sugar. “But you say you slept well, Mama? Nothing disturbed your rest?”

“Not a thing, dearest. Could you hear noise from the public rooms? I feared this inn would attract a rowdy bunch of men of an evening. Cranford didn’t really want us to stay here, I think, but I hated to be at a different inn from his. Tonight we will find a more peaceful spot so that you can get your proper rest.”

“Oh, I shall sleep in the carriage, no doubt. Don’t give a thought to me.”

But Trelenny’s own thoughts were scurrying frantically to and fro as she sipped at her tea. Cranford had undressed her! He must have, for she would never have undone her own hair. No, perhaps Miss Moreby had done it. Obviously her mother knew nothing of the previous night’s adventures, and there was no sign that Alice was hiding some deep secret as she went about laying out their clothing for the day. Oh, please, please, let it have been Miss Moreby. But how was she to ask her? Even if they saw her she could not let on that they had met, since that would require an explanation to her mother. And could she possibly ask Cranford? Her heart sank at the very thought.

As it turned out, it was unnecessary to ask him. From the very way he avoided her eyes, she knew, as certainly as though she had put the question directly to him. Trelenny instinctively realized that he had harmed her in no way, had taken no advantage of her indisposed condition. He would not have been Cranford if he could do such a thing. But there could have been no way for him to avoid seeing her naked. She was unable to eat more than a slice of toast, and that only because of her mother’s concerned eyes.

Unaware of any tension between her two companions, Mrs. Storwood chatted cheerfully to Cranford, detailing her delight in having spent a restful night. “I fear Trelenny did not fare so well, however. Another time I will not insist on staying at the same inn, if it means our staying where there are disturbances to keep her awake.”

At Cranford’s inquiring look, she continued, “The public rooms, you know. I think the noise made sleep difficult for her.”

“I’m sure it was just the strange bed,” her daughter protested, unable to meet Cranford’s eyes. “Tonight I’ll have no trouble at all, I promise you.”

“I hope that will prove to be the case,” he returned blandly as be ushered the ladies to the waiting carriage.

When Cranford climbed in to sit beside her, Trelenny uneasily shifted further into the corner away from him, and he pretended not to notice. He could see not only the signs of embarrassment but of headache and mawkishness as well. “Would you like me to read some more of
Evelina
, Trelenny.”

“No, thank you. I think I will try to sleep for a while.” So saying, she drew the carriage rug more closely about her lap and proceeded to fall asleep, undisturbed by the sway of the carriage and unconscious that her head had fallen against Cranford’s shoulder. Not until they halted at midday did she awaken, and she sat abruptly upright, casting a suspicious glance at Cranford which made him shake his head ruefully. “I feel a great deal better now, Mama. Are we stopping for luncheon? I’m famished.”

“She must be better,” Mrs. Storwood confessed to Cranford. “Ever since she was small, she never had the least appetite when she was ill.”

After doing justice to a good serving of pigeon pie, apples, and cheese, Trelenny was feeling almost normal again, until Cranford suggested that she ride for a stage with him. It seemed to her that it was more of a command than a suggestion, and she would have pleaded renewed illness except for not wishing to alarm her mother. Her fervent prayer, that they would not have two hacks available, or have no sidesaddle, was not answered and she soon found herself riding beside Cranford some distance behind the carriage so they would not be covered by its dust.

“You might like to know that our new friends got an early start this morning,” Cranford offered conversationally.

“Did…you restore Mr. Laytham’s clothes?” She kept her eyes straight ahead.

“Yes. I gave him one of my cravats to replace the soiled one. Trelenny, I’m sorry I had to undress you. I couldn’t wake your mother, and Miss Moreby was already asleep.”

She asked in a strangled voice, “Will I have to marry you?”

“For God’s sake, you don’t think I touched you!”

“No. I know you never would, but... am I not compromised?”

“I suppose so, technically, but only the two of us know, so it cannot matter. I thought of telling you that Miss Moreby had done it, but I couldn’t lie to you. You were so overtaken that it was impassible to wake you. I had hoped you might think you’d done it yourself in your intoxication.”

“I don’t loosen my hair at night.”

“Did your mother notice?”

“No, she was only concerned with my feeling unwell.” Trelenny agitatedly thumped a hand down on her thigh. “I can’t bear to think of your seeing me!”

“Discard it from your mind, as I have from mine,” he suggested with more gallantry than truth.

“Oh, I believe you could, you unfeeling bookworm! Don’t you see that makes it all the worse? Treating me like some cold marble statue of a Roman maiden, probably calculating my imperfections in comparison! I can see your wretched detachment now. No, she would not make a good tombstone, even with a concealing toga.”

“God help me, Trelenny, what do you want? Are you disappointed that I didn’t rape you?”

“Oh, shut up. You shouldn’t have done it.”

“I had no choice. You put yourself in an awkward position and I felt it my duty to extricate you by the only means at hand.” He studied her seriously for a moment. “If I hadn’t done it, Trelenny, you might have been forced to marry me. Your mother would not see the incident as lightly as you do. Her mortification at your wandering around town in men’s clothes, and being seen by me in them would likely have urged immediate action on her. She has a fine sense of propriety and could only consider you compromised by such behavior. Let’s have no more of your missish rantings, my girl; they ill suit you.”

His harsh words, carefully calculated to sting her out of her embarrassment, accomplished their purpose only too well. With flashing eyes but a grimly set face, she retorted, “You have done everything for my good! How very thoughtful of you, you great brute. You surprise me, Cranford. I should  have thought you would welcome the opportunity to force me into marriage with you. Did you not do so with poor Clare to your best friend? Do you think I don’t know she had fallen in love with someone else?” Trelenny clamped a horrified hand over her mouth. The secret had slipped from her without thought in her anger and she urged her horse to gallop to avoid his startled eyes. Not even to her mother had she so much as hinted at her knowledge, the cause of her anxiety over her friend’s marriage. She had been sworn to secrecy by Clare’s letter, and she had honored that pledge for the last year and more without fail. To have let it slip in a moment of unguarded hostility chastened and alarmed her.

Before she had time to collect her thoughts she found Cranford alongside her, intent on hearing more of her knowledge. “What did you mean just now, Trelenny?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t be absurd. What fairy tale have you concocted in your mind to account for your imperfect understanding of Clare’s situation?”

Trelenny rode in silence for several minutes before answering. Then, with a resolution which cost her a great deal of courage, she looked Cranford directly in the eye and said, “If you will forget what I said, I will forgive you for…undressing me.”

Although Cranford did not feel the need for her forgiveness, being convinced that he had acted from the purest of motives, he understood what she was saying, and he realized that it cost her a great deal to say it. She would will herself to act with him as she had before the incident, not shunning his company or seething with indignation, and he respected her determination. There was also the matter of her obvious regret that she had allowed her  wayward tongue to let escape a drop of sacred intelligence which she wished she could recall. Despite his very real desire to learn what she knew of his sister’s situation and what she surmised, he said gently, “Very well, Trelenny. Both matters are closed.”

“Thank you, Cranford.” She extended her hand and he shook it solemnly. “I’m sorry if I called you names. You’re not such a bad fellow after all.”

“You flatter me,” he returned wryly.

“
’I have time for no more; the chaise now waits which is to conduct me to dear Berry Hill, and to the arms of the best of men. Evelina
.’ Well, Trelenny, what did you think of it?” Cranford asked.

“If you wish me to say I loved it, I must disappoint you,” she said with a grin at her mother. “And I would point out to you that she got in a great deal more trouble trying to behave as she ought, than she probably would have if she had just followed her inclination."

Mrs. Storwood sighed. “How you can so easily dispose of poor Evelina is beyond me, my dear. Doesn’t it warm your heart that all came out well for her after all the adversities she endured? Doesn’t her virtue shine through all her misadventures?”

“I made most note of all the tears she shed,” Trelenny admitted sacrilegiously. “She must have filled buckets and soiled any number of handkerchiefs. What a lot of work she gave the laundry maids!”

“You’re incorrigible,” Mrs. Storwood groaned with a doleful shake of her head. To her the journey had sped by with the reading of her beloved book, the care Cranford took of them, and the comfort of the carriage. She was not so sanguine about the relationship between her daughter and their escort; they seemed, if anything, to be further apart than ever, with Trelenny constantly teasing him about Evelina’s righteousness and Cranford berating her for her lack of proper feeling. Had she known of the contretemps between them, however, she would have been amazed by the ease with which they resettled into their former raillery, perhaps even encouraged by the lighter vein in which they pinched at one another. Their shared secret had forced an understanding between them which brought them closer and made them more dependent on one another.

“Oh, look!” Trelenny exclaimed as her first view of Bath impressed itself on her. “Why, no drawing I have ever seen does it the least justice! What a beautiful town. Where is the Pump Room? Isn’t the Abbey magnificent? Do you suppose it will take us long to find lodgings? Shall we spend the night at the White Hart? Will Mrs. Waplington have had your letter by now, Mama? Is it too late to walk about the town a bit before dinner? Will we wait until tomorrow to send Mrs. Waplington a message? What nights are the Assemblies, Cranford?” Bombarded by her questions, and touched by her pathetic eagerness, Cranford tried patiently to answer each one before yet another escaped her.

Accommodations had been arranged by post at the White Hart and while Mrs. Storwood settled into her delightful suite, Cranford agreed to walk with Trelenny until the dinner they had bespoken was prepared.

“The ladies look so fine in their French bonnets and cornettes. Will I be out of fashion, Cranford?”

He cocked his head to study her circular hat with its plume of quadrille feathers and satin ribbon ending in bows at her waist. “I think not. Your mother has always kept up with the latest fashions, whether you paid the least attention or not. You look presentable, but you might try to do something about those freckles.”

“I shall long for the day when you don’t pay me a backhanded compliment,” she retorted. “Why I should think you would know the first thing about fashion. . . Oh, Cranford, have you ever seen a shop with so many ribbons? I think they sell nothing else.”

“Shall I give you some of your money now we are in town?”

“No, I don’t need it, and I wish you would keep it as I asked, for if you lent money to Mr. Laytham, you’re sure to be short.”

“Allow me to worry about my own finances, if you please,” he said coolly.

“As you wish, Golden Ball. I’m sure I don’t care a fig if you find yourself at point non plus. Is that a sedan chair? Shall I ride in one? Won’t Mama look elegant carried about in such a way? Oh, I wish Papa could be here to see.”