Celia (eBook)

Sophia Holloway (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023
Allison & Busby (Verlag)
978-0-7490-3057-5 (ISBN)

Infos

Celia Mardham's first London Season should have been a great success, but a near fatal riding accident has left her with a pronounced limp which means she cannot even curtsy, let alone dance. Condemned it seems to spinsterhood, her mother Lady Mardham makes one last effort. She draws up a list of guests for a country house party, picking only young ladies who will not be rivals, as well as some potential suitors. Among the gentlemen is Lord Levedale and when he meets Celia he sees her, not the limp. However, a number of accidents, misunderstandings and spiteful interventions litter the path ahead, and may succeed in driving them apart for good.

Sophia Holloway read Modern History at Oxford and also writes the Bradecote and Catchpoll medieval mysteries as Sarah Hawkswood.

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The page-turning Regency romance from the author of KingscastleFirst published as Bless Thine Inheritance by Sophia Holloway. Celia Mardham's first London Season should have been a great success, but a near fatal riding accident has left her with a pronounced limp which means she cannot even curtsy, let alone dance. Condemned it seems to spinsterhood, her mother Lady Mardham makes one last effort. She draws up a list of guests for a country house party, picking only young ladies who will not be rivals, as well as some potential suitors. Among the gentlemen is Lord Levedale and when he meets Celia he sees her, not the limp. However, a number of accidents, misunderstandings and spiteful interventions litter the path ahead, and may succeed in driving them apart for good.

Textauszug

CHAPTER ONE

Lady Mardham disliked her sister-in-law intensely, and the feeling was mutual. They sat on either side of the Chippendale tea table with forced smiles, and exhibited the degree of civility that only appears when people loathe each other. Lady Blaby remembered when the chinoiserie style had been all the rage and the table was new. Like everything else at Meysey, she thought it behind the times; she herself had a far more fashionable example with delicate sabre legs and satinwood stringing. Lady Blaby was the proud possessor of a rich and indulgent husband, and changed the decor of her town house with every vagary of fashion. She was several years Lady Mardham’s junior, and relished the knowledge that not only was she done up in the latest style, but that the few grey hairs she possessed could still be disguised with ease, and that her figure, despite bearing three children, was still remarkably good.

‘I do hope you are keeping in comparatively good health, Pamela,’ she cooed, with patently false concern.

‘I am in the most robust of health, I assure you, my dear sister. We Cossingtons are renowned for it. My own dear Mama never suffered a day of rheumatism or loss of faculties until the day she died, at the age of three and eighty.’

‘How reassuring, then, that you have a few more years left of well-being, however you may look.’ Lady Blaby’s coo became a commiserating purr. She was well aware that Lady Mardham was still two years short of fifty.

Lady Mardham coloured, and changed the subject, ‘How is Sir Marmaduke?’

‘He is, alas, confined with the gout at present, poor man, but has assured me that I should go and visit Lavinia and Charles in any case. He does not like a fuss to be made over him. I am so looking forward to seeing the baby, though the thought of being “Grandmama” is quite horrifying. Fortunately nobody would believe it to look at me.’

‘No, my dear, you never did look the least maternal.’ Lady Mardham could not resist the chance to launch a barb of her own, but Lady Blaby seemed to ignore it.

‘Anyway, since I am travelling down to Batheaston I thought I would break my journey for an hour at my own old home and see how you were all getting on.’ Lady Blaby stressed the ‘getting on’. She paused for a moment, and then dropped her stone of information into the pool of conversation and watched the ripples. ‘You know, time flies by so fast. It does not seem five minutes since Charles was a babe in my arms, and here we are, with him a father, and my little Jane already excited at the thought of her come-out in the spring.’

Whilst simple arithmetic would have prepared Lady Mardham for this announcement, she did not often think about her niece, and as Lady Blaby had anticipated, it came as a shock.

‘Goodness, already?’

‘Why yes. She is so very promising too. A few more months and her figure will have developed a little more, but at least she is not inclined to put on excessive weight. Dumpy girls cannot be shown off to advantage, whatever one tries. I did worry that she might be throwing out a freckle last month, but it was a false alarm, and besides, as disfigurements go …’ Lady Blaby left the sentence hanging, and gave Lady Mardham a look of sympathy which was really smug superiority.

Lady Mardham’s smile became more fixed.

‘Celia’s complexion has always been faultless.’

‘Ah yes, but who considers her complexion, these days?’

‘More tea, Aurelia?’ Her hostess did not look her in the eye.

After Lady Blaby’s departure, Lady Mardham was closeted with her lord for some time. He had carefully avoided meeting his sister, and had taken refuge in his library. His spouse found him sympathetic, but disinclined to hold out much hope of success.

‘By all means, my dear, do as you think fit, but for all the good it will do … And are you sure poor Celia is up to facing company again?’

‘She must be. I declare this news will bring on my nervous spasms.’

Lord Mardham pursed his lips. His lady’s ‘nervous spasms’ always managed to set the house by the ears and ruin his peace. He was a man who liked a quiet but convivial life. Having guests again would be pleasurable, for he was naturally social, but he feared it would all be rather daunting for poor Celia. He thought she had come to terms with things remarkably well, for she was a level-headed and sensible girl. It was all rather tragic for her, but there was nothing more that could be done, and she accepted her prospects with equanimity. He sometimes thought his wife still thought of the whole thing as some bad dream from which they might waken if they only put their minds to it.

‘I recommend that the energy that might be expended in spasms, my dear, be channelled instead into your preparations. You will be wanting to make up a suitable party.’

Lady Mardham responded to this gentle guidance and went away to write lists – many of them. It was lacking but an hour until dinner when she asked to see her daughter in the yellow saloon, where the late afternoon sunshine gave the room a cheering golden glow. Lady Mardham fiddled with the lace at the cuffs of her gown. The door opened, and her daughter entered.

‘You wished to speak with me, Mama?’

‘Ah, Celia, dearest.’ Lady Mardham addressed her younger child, but did so without quite looking directly at her, blissfully unaware how much it hurt her daughter. ‘Come and sit down, my poor child. I have something we need to discuss.’

Celia Mardham did as she was bid, coming haltingly across the room, and set her stick beside her chair. She was a little short of twenty years old, but months of pain and discomfort had made her look older. She folded her hands in her lap. She was without doubt an exceedingly pretty girl, with rich brown hair, delicately arched brows, a straight nose, generous mouth and the complexion which her mother had extolled. Lady Mardham had been confident of her successful come-out, for who but a man with eyes only for blondes or raven-locked brunettes could not fail to be charmed by her. It was clear that she would make an excellent debut in Society and be snapped up in her first Season, except that her Season never took place. On a cold February day, only a couple of months before they were to remove to London, she had suffered an accident in the hunting field. Her horse had stumbled upon landing after a ditch and rolled onto her, and it had resulted in a broken femur, from which at first it was feared she might not recover. The local surgeon, knowing the high morbidity of such an injury, had prepared her parents for the worst and sent for the bone-setter from Cheltenham. At that expert gentleman’s hands she had endured much, but he had successfully aligned the ends of the bone as best he could, and splinted the leg tightly. Initially, her survival was so great a relief that any other considerations were set aside.

Only very gradually had she regained her health. Three months she had been bedridden, the leg held straight to mend, but the knee so immobile that thereafter it had remained stiff, and impossible to flex fully. This meant that when she sat, her left foot stuck out a little before her, rather than being hidden demurely beside the right under her skirts, and advertised her as ‘different’. The leg itself was now scarred from the ulceration that had been the consequence of that immobility, but at least that was only known by her maid and closest of relatives. What was more important was that Celia also had a pronounced limp. For months she could barely put her weight upon the limb, and every step was a struggle. Her mama had clung to the hope that the limp would disappear as she grew stronger, despite the doctor telling her that the shortening of the leg by some three inches meant that this was an impossibility. Thereafter Lady Mardham found it difficult to watch her daughter walk. Every ungainly step shouted at her that she was condemned to spinsterhood, unable to ever take her place in a dance set, or glide across a drawing room floor. Her good looks counted for nothing when people only saw the limp, and a Season would be both a waste and an embarrassment. In view of Lady Blaby’s news, however, ‘something must be done’ to try, just once, to find the poor girl a husband.

‘Your Papa and I are going to invite a few guests to stay.’

‘Do you wish me to remove to Grandmama in the Dower House?’ Celia frowned slightly. She could think of no other reason why her mama should look so embarrassed at disclosing this news. They had not invited anyone to Meysey in the eighteen months since her accident, and she had seen nobody outside the family except one of her brother’s friends who had come into Gloucestershire with him after New Year.

‘No, no, my dear.’ Lady Mardham’s confusion increased. ‘You see, I … your papa and I, think it only fair that you do get the chance to meet people again. It is terribly unfortunate that … not that we blame you in any way, of course … and with your cousin Jane coming out next Season …’

Her...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 21.9.2023
• Verlagsort: London
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Historische Romane
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Schlagworte: Historical Romance • Holloway • Regency • Regency Romance • Romance • Sophia Holloway
• ISBN-10: 0-7490-3057-7 / 0749030577
• ISBN-13: 978-0-7490-3057-5 / 9780749030575