Page 9 of Visiting Miss Austen (Miss Austen #2)

We ate a light breakfast of toast and tea the next morning with our wraps over our chemises. Then it was time to change into the bathing gowns and caps that Mrs Bromley kept on hand for female guests. The gowns were not attractive—shapeless dun-coloured dresses made of flannel designed purely to maintain modesty.

I took one look at myself in the mirror and burst out laughing.

‘Surely we are not walking to the baths in these?’ I glanced over at Jane, who looked equally ridiculous. She’d tied her cap tightly round her chin to prevent her hair from getting wet and rather resembled a chestnut mushroom.

‘Good Lord, no! Mrs Bromley has arranged sedan chairs to take us there.’

‘Thank goodness for Mrs Bromley,’ I muttered. ‘What would we do without her?’

Bidding Edward goodbye, we scurried outside in our drab garb, bringing with us the necessary items for drying off and changing afterwards.

The waiting sedan chairs, to my mind, resembled tall boxes. Each had two porters to carry the poles and could fit one person. Inside, there was a padded seat and, to my relief, a curtain, which I dre w immediately over the window. However, the porters were disinterested in our appearance and did not seem to care one jot, I suppose having seen much worse sights than us.

I was the end chair of our convoy, with the other three ladies in front of me; and after I got used to the bouncing movement, I have to say, I rather enjoyed the experience. The men called out to passers-by to ‘wotch it!’ and so called attention to us, and it did rather make one feel as though one was royalty being carried through the streets of Bath. Peeking through the curtain, I saw people glancing at us and shifting to the side to avoid our chair train.

Yes , I thought, smirking to myself. That’s it, move out of the way. Very important people coming through!

As we came out of Princes Street and turned left into Monmouth Street, I happened to glance down the latter street and spied a tall, slim gentleman some distance away. He was heading in the direction of the pump room, and his self-assured stride and general appearance were all too familiar. I jerked back from the window, my heart beating rapidly. If my eyes had not deceived me, it was Mr Hart!

Fortunately, he had not seen me, nor was he privy to our plans to visit the baths this morning. I cringed to think of him running after the chair and tapping on my window, wishing to say hello. I would positively die if he saw me in an ugly bathing gown.

After I had recovered a little from the shock, I realised that it was strange to have seen him in Monmouth Street at all as it was not the route that he usually took to the pump room. Indeed, he had made a point of mentioning that he walked from Royal Crescent down Milsom Street, on the days he was not collecting us from Queen Square, as it was quicker.

He probably wanted a change of scenery , I thought. Stop being so suspicious, Felicity!

It was of such little consequence that I did not say anything about it when we were deposited at the ladies’ entrance to the baths. We were endeavouring to get Lucinda’s mind off Mr Hart, so to mention that he was at the pump room while we were next door would not have helped her to relax. She was liable to go rushing in to see him, ugly bathing gown and all! No, I would keep the ‘almost’ encounter to myself.

The day was chilly and overcast, and the dark-green water of the bath made a striking contrast to the grey sky above. Plinths and columns lined the pool edge, and it indeed felt like we were following in the footsteps of the Romans. However, entering the hot water was a tad painful, especially if you had cold feet.

‘Ouch,’ Elizabeth complained upon having dipped in a toe, but the attendant said that our bodies would get used to it and to go in slowly.

We took her advice, and after ten minutes of ‘ouching’ and ‘aahing’, we were soon fully submerged with our gowns floating around us. However, the water was very smelly, making Jane mutter, ‘Pooh, it stinks.’

But to counteract that, we had small bowls hung round our necks with string that held scented handkerchiefs and nosegays of fresh lavender that Mrs Bromley had prepared for us. So the odour of the water was unpleasant, but not unbearable if you kept your bowl close to your face.

Another small group of ladies were bathing on the far side of the pool, but with the rising steam from the water, it wasn’t possible to detect their faces. We did not know many people in Bath, so they were probably strangers to us anyway.

The others wanted to sit on the steps and relax in the water, but I was feeling in a sociable mood, so I said I would do a lap around the pool and perhaps make the acquaintance of the other group of ladies.

It was only when the steam parted upon my approach to them that I realised my error. I did know one of them: Cecilia Spencer, the pretty object of Mr Hart’s thwarted affection. She was bathing with two other young women. Her mother and sister were not there. It was too late to pretend I had not seen her and terribly rude if I did not speak to her. Besides, my dratted gown was cumbersome and would not let me change direction. So I pasted a smile on my face as I floated towards them.

‘Good morning!’ Cecilia said immediately, smiling back cheerfully. She was sitting a little apart from her friends, who were engaged in their own conversation. ‘How do you do? I believe I have seen you in the pump room taking the waters?’ She was not wearing a cap and did not seem to mind that the springy blonde ringlets at the base of her neck were damp.

‘Hello. Yes, I remember.’ I was now in the position of needing to introduce myself. ‘I’m Mrs Felicity Fitzroy. My niece, Lucinda, and I are visiting our friends the Austens. That’s her, the dark-haired girl with Jane and Elizabeth over there,’ I said, pointing at them through the steam.

She nodded. ‘I’m Cecilia Spencer, and these are my friends Charlotte and Susannah. But everyone calls us Ceci, Lottie, and Sukey.’ I nodded politely to her and her friends, wondering if I should mention I was called Fliss since we were all sharing nicknames.

But her friends resumed their conversation, and Cecilia was watching Lucinda with narrowed eyes.

‘I believe, from what my mother observed at the ball the other night, that your niece appears to have attracted the attention of a certain gentleman—a gentleman who last year was interested in me ,’ she said pointedly, and I stiffened, not knowing what to say.

‘I ... uh ...’

‘Oh, do not worry. I am not cut up about it, not now at least.’ She smiled at me genially and settled back against the edge of the pool. ‘In fact, it is rather a relief not to have Dory’s attention this Season.’

Dory? It was very intimate to call him that! I sucked in a breath that reeked of sulphur and let it out slowly, wondering if I dared to ask my question and how she should react. ‘Ah, were you and Mr Hart close?’ I said carefully.

Cecilia glanced at her friends and whispered to me, ‘Let us leave Lottie and Sukey to their gossip and take a little swim over here.’

She breaststroked away from her friends, saying she would be back shortly, and headed to the opposite corner of the pool. I had no choice but to dog-paddle after her with my bowl banging against my chin. Besides, my curiosity was burning. Here was a chance to find out more about her relationship with Mr Hart.

‘So what do you know already?’ she asked in a low voice when we were at the foot of a pillar. We were safely out of earshot of her friends, but I assumed she did not want to take any risks.

‘Only two things, but each contradicts the other. Your mother told Elizabeth at the ball we attended that Mr Hart was an “appalling scoundrel” and we should have nothing to do with him. And then the day after, he called unexpectedly. And my niece, Jane, and Elizabeth went off with him to Sally Lunn’s. Whilst there, they were informed that your mother cruelly separated “a couple in love”. His story was backed up by his friend Mr Smith-Withers and believed entirely by my niece and my friends. Now I am confused, both to Mr Hart’s nature and his intentions.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ said Cecilia with a rueful smile. ‘But can I tell you my own side of the story? I do not wish to keep you from your party, but I promise it is not too long-winded a tale, and you look like you would lend a sympathetic ear.’

‘Very well.’

She closed her large blue eyes briefly, as if gathering her thoughts, then said, ‘As you may have noticed, Dory is a remarkably handsome man.’

There was no point disagreeing. ‘He is indeed.’

‘So you can imagine how even a small amount of attention paid by a man that handsome might be overwhelming.’

I nodded. Even the mere crumbs Mr Hart had paid me at the ball had made my brain whirl until I had regained my good senses. A young woman with far less experience than I would be caught off guard.

‘I understand.’

‘But he singled me out from all the other young ladies. And well, it made me feel special, and I was charmed ... No, that is not even the right word ... I was dazzled by him. I could think of no other but him from morning to night. And if my day did not have him in it, then, oh, it felt as if I should shrivel up and die. Until he called upon me the next day, and miracle of miracles, I was instantly restored. He was like a drug. Have you ever taken opium, Mrs Fitzroy?’

‘Oh, er, no. I cannot say I have,’ I said, a bit taken aback. ‘But I did eat four slices of poppy seed cake at an afternoon tea party once. The next day, I felt very poorly.’

Cecilia nodded eagerly. ‘Exactly. Being around him was like being presented with a delectable poppy seed cake. I could not just take one slice.’

‘What are you trying to say, Miss Spencer?’

‘Ceci please.’

‘Very well ... Ceci.’

She leaned closer to me. ‘You will think me base saying this, but my passions were inflamed by him. He is the kind of man who inflames one’s passions. Don’t you think, Mrs Fitzroy?’

‘Please, call me Felicity,’ I said, ignoring her question about Mr Hart inflaming one’s passions. ‘So then it is true ... that your mother happened to come across you kissing in the parlour? And as she is a strict Anglican, she banned him from seeing you?’

An expression of surprise crossed Cecilia’s features. ‘Is that what he’s been saying?’

‘Yes.’

She stared at me blankly for a moment, then let out a snort of laughter. Glancing over at her friends, she grabbed her scented handkerchief from her bowl and pressed it against her mouth and giggled into it. When she had recovered, she took a deep shuddering breath and said weakly, ‘Oh, how funny, yet how kind of him to protect me.’

By this time, I was growing impatient and overheating in the water and tired of her talking in circles. ‘Ceci, please, will you speak plainly? I am a married woman, after all.’

‘Very well, Felicity, if you want the plain truth. My mother did catch Dory and me together one afternoon, but we weren’t in the parlour—we were in my bed. And we were doing much more than kissing, as you might imagine,’ said the girl, lowering her eyes.

Good gracious, I was not expecting that! A throb of heat raced through my body, and it was not because of the temperature of the water. A sordid image of Dory lying naked on top of Ceci had flashed into my brain.

‘What on earth!’ I gasped, my pruney fingers flying to my mouth.

Ceci nodded solemnly. ‘It is true and why I cannot tell my friends about it as they are apt to gossip. If word gets out, I would be ruined. But I feel that I can trust you on this matter as you have your niece’s best interests at heart. And you won’t tell anyone, will you, Felicity?’ she said beseechingly.

‘Of course not,’ I said before I knew what I was agreeing to. In truth, I was stunned by what she had said.

‘I realise now how silly I was to let myself get so enamoured with him, and I hated my mother for separating us. But she was doing it for my own good, though at the time, I did not think so. But a year makes all the difference, and now I can see things more clearly. I could not seem to control myself when he was near me, and I did not much like that feeling. He and I are better kept at a distance. We were like shooting stars colliding. There was bound to be an explosion ... I was only lucky I did not get pregnant.’

I stood there in the pongy water, listening to her go on and on about star-crossed lovers, while I was still reeling from what she had said and getting angrier and angrier by the minute at Mr Hart’s deception. Oh, Lucinda , I thought. Why did you have to go and fall in love with such a rake?

‘Your niece seems much more sensible and much less inclined to let her passions run away with her,’ Ceci was saying, and I brought myself back to reality with an effort. ‘I am sure they will be happy together.’

Not if I have anything to do with it , I thought, bristling with indignation. He is not fit to be in the same room as her!

‘Thank you, Ceci, for clearing up my confusion about Mr Hart,’ I said politely, taking a step backwards. ‘I trust the rest of your stay in Bath will be a pleasant one.’

‘I hope I haven’t offended you, Felicity?’ she said worriedly. ‘Please do not worry. Your niece will be quite safe with Dory as long as her passions are not inflamed. It is I who was the guilty party and I who flung myself at him. He did not have a choice ...’

‘On the contrary’, I said stiffly, ‘there is always a choice, and Mr Hart chose poorly. I blame him entirely.’

‘Oh no, you should not!’ said the girl, sounding aggrieved. I was not sure why she had decided to blame herself for Mr Hart’s despicable behaviour, but I did not need to hear more. She saw it as him protecting her reputation, but it was obvious to me that he had deliberately twisted the events to his advantage and had meant to deceive Lucinda with a sob story.

‘Please excuse me, I must rejoin my party. Good day,’ I said, nodding to the girl, and dog-paddled away as quickly as I could through the greenish water whilst breathing in my lavender nosegay deeply. But the sweet scent did nothing to relax me or stop me from feeling wretched. What was I going to do now?