Chapter 2
“Mary has spent three days without dinner,” Cecily pointed out to her grandmother as the carriage rocked along the cobbled London streets, bearing them toward Mildenhall House.
“Your sister will be without dinner until she does her duty and agrees to the advantageous match that your uncle has so thoughtfully and generously arranged for her,” her grandmother responded implacably.
“A diet of bread and water will bring her to her senses eventually. She is lucky that my son has not yet taken his belt to her.”
Cecily shuddered, remembering all too well the cruel punishment meted out during their childhood for even the most minor infractions.
She had always tried to protect Mary as much as she could, even taking the blame and the blows when she could. Their grandmother had never protected them and had even often encouraged their uncle’s mistreatment. There was no reason that Lady Holt should change now.
But how could Mary be extricated from this latest savage trap, the worst of them all? If only their parents had not died so young and so suddenly in a coach accident. If only their father had thought to make provision in his will for their dowries. If only their uncle had been a different man.
So many ifs and little assistance.
Although she was feeling helpless at the moment, Cecily knew she could not allow the awful union to happen.
“Even in prisons, the inmates are given gruel and broth with some taste of meat and vegetables,” she argued with her grandmother again.
“Mary is not a criminal. She is only a young woman and ought to be married to a young man. It is not right that she should marry a man of Lord Ashworth’s age. He has children almost twice her age.”
“What has that to do with anything, Cecily?” Lady Holt snapped. “Men age like fine wine and women like milk. At six-and-twenty, you are of no interest to anyone. At six-and-sixty, Lord Ashworth is an eligible man, in good health and more than capable of siring children with Mary.”
Those words made Cecily feel quite ill. She decided that she would kill that disgusting old goat before she would let him lay a finger on Mary. Even if she hanged for it, Mary would then be free.
Unfortunately, their uncle would doubtless only find another equally dreadful husband for Mary, and one could only die once.
Cecily put melodramatic thoughts of murder out of her mind and tried again to come up with more effective and morally acceptable ways to rescue Mary.
“If you starve Mary until she gets ill, she won’t be in a condition to marry anyone,” she pointed out tartly.
“Mary looks perfectly healthy to me, Cecily,” Lady Holt dismissed this concern easily. “Do you think the poor have meat and pudding every day? Of course they don’t. They live well enough on bread and water and like it too.”
Her flippant dismissal of both Mary’s suffering and the undoubtedly greater hunger of the poor was breathtaking. The Baroness had never been one to see what she did not wish to see.
It was also true that Mary was not yet starving, nor anywhere as hungry as she might have been.
Cecily had been carefully saving half of her own food whenever she ate alone, snatching bread rolls from plates when her uncle’s head was turned, and even sneaking slices of pie from the larder for her sister.
If the servants knew, they were wise and compassionate enough to say nothing.
“Yes, Mary is well for now, but even the young and strong cannot thrive on such a diet forever,” Cecily countered carefully. “I urge you to reflect on this and change Uncle’s mind. Is it not punishment enough that she is missing the musicale today?”
Cecily was accompanying her grandmother to the musical evening hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Mildenhall, and the program included some Mozart works that Mary particularly liked.
All three of them should have been there, but Lord Holt had canceled all of Mary’s social engagements until she agreed to marry Lord Ashworth.
Although Cecily had tried to get out of attending to stay with Mary, her uncle had refused her request. Lady Holt was elderly and insisted that Cecily accompany her. It was unreasonable to expect her to take a maid or a hired companion when she had an unmarried, able-bodied granddaughter.
This meant that not only did Cecily have to put up with a whole evening in her grandmother’s company, but that Mary would have no food, since they would be eating at Mildenhall House.
“Do not tell me how to reflect, you ignorant chit,” Lady Holt scolded.
“Your sister is the one who ought to be taking this opportunity to fast and reflect on the error of her ways and her ingratitude for her uncle’s kindnesses.
You, too, ought to reflect on your own situation and selfishness.
As a spinster, you’re likely to be a burden on poor Preston forever. ”
Goaded almost beyond bearing, Cecily met her grandmother’s beady gaze with unusual fire in her naturally soft brown eyes.
“Do not talk about kindness to me. Uncle Preston is selling Mary to the highest bidder as though she were a prize heifer rather than his blood relative. My parents must be turning in their graves.”
“How dare you! Your insolence surpasses even that of your father before you,” Lady Holt began to rail, but then the carriage came to a jolting halt, and she almost fell off her seat, steadied only by Cecily’s arm.
By the time a footman opened the door to their carriage, Lady Holt was smiling and composed as she stepped down in her heavy gray silk dress.
Behind her, Cecily was silent again but deep in thought. She needed to use this moment to think. There had to be a solution.
* * *
“Do have a drink before the performance begins,” the pretty young Duchess of Mildenhall invited Lady Holt and Cecily after exchanging greetings in the reception room. “There will be further refreshments and a buffet during the break, and again after the end of the performance.”
“Is the buffet room through there?” Cecily asked, looking toward some doors where a maid was carrying a tray of sliced meats.
An idea was forming in her mind, not for rescue, but at least for feeding Mary tonight.
“Yes, indeed,” the Duchess replied with a tinkling laugh. “If you are hungry already, you must eat something now, Miss Holt. I would not want you to be distracted from the performance.”
“Do excuse my granddaughter, Your Grace,” Lady Holt interjected with an expression of distinct disapproval. “We shall enjoy the hospitality at an appropriate time, with everyone else.”
Cecily curtsied to the Duchess and let her grandmother drag her away.
“Mind your manners, Cecily,” the old woman hissed. “Eight years out in society and you ask questions like that! You will have people thinking that your uncle doesn’t feed you.”
“Well, he often doesn’t, so why should you mind people knowing?” Cecily retorted quietly.
She had curbed her tongue, hidden her spirit, and played along with her unloving relatives for so many years in order to protect Mary. If they now thought to sacrifice her sister for their own financial gain, then she would have little left to lose.
“Hush your nonsense,” Lady Holt scolded, pinching her arm hard enough that she fell silent.
Barely touching her drink, Lady Holt settled into a seat early in the reception room, eager to avoid being stuck with chairs in the back or in the more awkward corners.
Cecily had no objections and was happy to find herself at the end of a row after her grandmother spotted an acquaintance and sat down beside her.
Once the music began and the strains of the Magic Flute overture filled the air, her mind wandered through plans and possibilities.
With so many people around during the break, was her idea really feasible? She didn’t want to call attention to herself, and anyway, her grandmother would be watching her very closely.
About a quarter of an hour into the performance, she noticed a very striking woman with golden hair leaving the room, a secretive smile on her face. A minute or two later, a tall, dark, and intense-looking man also departed.
Of course, it was natural that people would need to use the retiring rooms if they had taken several drinks beforehand.
Cecily waited for a while, not wanting to run into either of them. As the minutes passed and neither of them came back, she realized she needed to act anyway or lose her chance.
“I must go to the ladies’ retiring room,” she whispered in her grandmother’s ear. “I am desperate.”
“You should have gone beforehand,” Lady Holt grumbled, but made no attempt to stop her from slipping away.
With a calm face and eyes fixed straight ahead, Cecily headed to the room where the servants had laid out the food. Finding no one there, she cautiously pushed open the door and stepped inside.
What a feast!
Whole poached salmon on platters was surrounded by salmon mousse and piles of prawns in mayonnaise.
Salads glistened with bright green leaves, red tomatoes, and a variety of chopped radishes and other vegetables.
Partially carved cold joints of roast beef, pork, and lamb lay invitingly next to bowls of parsley-buttered potatoes, and a vast array of breads and cheeses took up an entire table by themselves.
Cecily’s mouth watered for salmon, but she wasn’t here to eat. She was here to sneak some food for Mary. Luckily, she had her reticule in the little silk evening bag she carried. What might be the most practical way to transport it home?
Knowing that time might be short before any servants returned or, worse, her grandmother came looking for her, she worked fast. She buttered slices of bread, pressed slices of meat and cheese between them, and wrapped them in a clean handkerchief before starting on another.
How much could she realistically fit in her bag?
And how could she hide it from her grandmother?
She would need to take the reticule to the cloakroom now and then cover it with her light cloak.
Yes, that would work. It was a warm enough spring day that carrying her cloak to the carriage should draw little attention.
Now, she had used all her handkerchiefs and would have to borrow one of the linen napkins from the table to wrap the two slices of sponge cake. It gave her a twinge of conscience, but the napkin could always be sent back later.
She felt a mix of laughter and tears bubble up in her throat as she hurriedly stuffed the cake into her bag along with the bread filled with meat and cheese. How had her life brought her to this sad absurdity?! Stealing food from the buffet at Mildenhall House…
“This has to be one of the most peculiar things I have ever seen,” said a man’s voice, echoing her thoughts.
With a wild little cry, she spun around and froze.