Cousin Cecilia by Joan Smith

Author:Joan Smith [Smith, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1990-11-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

It was no new experience for Lord Wickham to have a bonnet hurled at his eligible head. He had become quite adept at dodging them. He felt no real danger from Miss Cummings, though she was certainly a deal prettier than most of his flirts, and a deal slier, too. He must tread softly, or he’d find himself compromised. The danger lent a spice to the affair. One dinner party was hardly apt to find him shackled, however, and he looked forward to it with some eagerness.

The day finally arrived, the company reached St. Martin’s on schedule, and at six o’clock, Mrs. Meacham and Miss Cummings were admitted by the butler. The guests were abovestairs making their toilettes for dinner, and Wickham was belowstairs to greet them. Mrs. Meacham was on nettles to find herself amidst such smart society, but he noticed that Miss Cummings was no more than pleasantly eager.

“How lovely the abbey is,” was Cecilia’s first remark, after being greeted. The entrance retained some of its severe, ecclesiastical character. In an embrasure where once had stood a Christian effigy, there was a marble bust of some ancient Greek god or Roman emperor. This, she assumed, was one of Wickham’s archaeological finds. To her left, the doorway showed a handsome saloon bathed in the light of the setting sun. Elegant striped sofas, the gleam of polished mahogany, and the glitter of sun on brass appointments gave the room an air of fashionable prosperity.

Wine was served, and before much could be said, the guests joined them. Wickham noticed that Miss Cummings was not only known to most of them, but greeted with enthusiasm.

“So this is where you are hiding yourself,” Lady Elgin smiled. “I wondered that I have not seen you about town, Cecilia. Everyone has been asking for you. Your mama is not in town yet either. I shall be calling on her as soon as she arrives. Come and sit beside me and I shall tell you all the on-dits about your beaux. You will be coming to town for the Season, of course.”

“Indeed I shall, ma’am. I am looking forward to it.”

Sir Giles Middleton and his lady had to borrow her for a little catching up on gossip, and even Mr. Harpur, a studious antiquarian from the British Museum, said he was happy to see her looking so well.

Till dinnertime, there was no discussion of the marble antiquities at all. It was Wickham, and of course Mrs. Meacham, who felt like outsiders as the others spoke of the new crop of debs, of weddings and house parties, and other social matters. When they trouped in to dinner, Lord Elgin rushed to partner Cecilia. Over the soup, he told her in a loud voice, “You must charm that statue of a grace out of Wickham for me, my dear. I don’t know how I came to miss it at the Erechtheum. It belongs with the Elgin marbles certainly. I shan’t be happy till I have it.”

“You know I would if I could, but you must not imagine I have that sort of power over Wickham.

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