Here's the draft chapter where Cynthia discovers what a typical English summer is like.
There's Cold, There's Darn Cold, and Then There's the English Summer.
The
early warm summer days reverted to the English norm of cool, cloudy
and damp. Lord Wroxham and Freddy barely noticed the change. Alice
found she needed to put on her stockings. Cynthia did as well but she
still froze. The AR had never been like this. She had always been
warm enough when she was playing in it.
When
Cynthia woke in the morning, Hannah came in to her room and set out
her water and dress as usual. Cynthia asked, “Hannah?”
“Yes,
miss?”
“How
do you keep warm in this weather?”
“Miss?
It is summer.”
“I'm
freezing.”
“Shall
I have a fire kindled in your room?”
“Can't
you just turn on the heat?”
“Turn
on the heat? Whatever do you mean by that?”
“Doesn't
the room have a heating unit?”
“There's
only a fire Miss Morris.”
“If
that's what it's called, can you start it up? It's cold.”
“I'll
have the housemaid start a fire for you. Would you like your
chocolate here, Miss?”
“As
long as I don't have to get out of bed, yes please, Hannah.”
Hannah
left to call the housemaid. Cynthia gave a longing glance at the
chamber pot. It was so darned cold that she dare not use it. At least
not until she was truly desperate. She touched her earring, “Chris?”
“Ma'am?”
“It's
cold. I'm freezing. Is this normal?”
“It
is normal to freeze when you're cold, Ma'am.”
“You
know what I mean. What the h-, what am I to do?”
“Enjoy
the experience.”
“Hannah
said something about kindling a fire. What did she mean?”
“Fire
is an exothermic reaction between wood or coal and oxygen.”
“In
other words, heat?”
“Yes.
With flames and smoke as well. Just don't stand too close. Your dress
could catch alight.”
“Thanks
for the warning.”
“It's
also not good manners to pull your dress up in front of the fire. It
captures the heat better, but is unbecoming.”
“I
know that.”
“Good.”
The
housemaid knocked at the door, “Miss Morris?”
“Come
in.”
A
young woman in an old cotton dress came in. She curtsied to Cynthia
then went to the small fire place in the room. She knelt by it and
started a fire. Then she rose and turned to leave, but Cynthia
stopped her. “Miss?”
“Yes
Miss Morris?”
“Is
this unusual weather?”
“What
do you mean Miss Morris?”
“I'm
so cold.”
“Nay
Miss, it's a lovely summer morning. Might rain this afternoon, but
still it should be a nice day.” She curtsied in preparation to
leave the room.
Cynthia
paused for a moment. “Can you send Hannah to me?” She hopped out
of bed and started to use the now-tepid water that Hannah had left.
Breakfast
was an interesting meal. Lord Wroxham, having heard from his valet
via the servant's grapevine about Cynthia's dislike of the cold,
started to tease her.
“So
Miss Morris, warm enough for you?”
“Lord
Wroxham, I notice that the fire is burning here. I didn't ask for
it.”
“Your
reputation preceded you.”
Freddy
came in and warmed his hands over the fire before sitting down, “I
say James, this is a little unseasonable. I thought summer had
finally come.” It rather took the sting out of that line of
commentary.
Lord
Wroxham switched tacks, “How are your wounds, Miss Morris?”
“If
you are referring to my little tumble yesterday, that won't happen
again. I know what to expect.”
“Still
sore?”
“Not
in the least,” Cynthia lied about her bruises. “I kept up with
you for most of our race. I was even in front of you on one of the
straights.”
“Only
because I took it easy on you.”
“I'd
have beaten you if my horse hadn't balked at the ford.”
“In
your dreams, Miss Morris, only in your dreams.”
Cynthia
threw down her napkin and said, “All right, Lord Wroxham. I get
your point, you think you're faster than I am. When would you like
you to race again?”
“Race?”
“Your
horse, against mine. Is this morning soon enough or are you scared I
might beat you?”
Alice
was aghast, “Cynthia, you nearly killed yourself when you raced
last time.”
“No
I didn't. I just fell off the horse. Which is not the same thing, at
all. I'll race your brother, any time, any place.”
Lord
Wroxham interjected, “What did you call it then? Going for a swim?”
“If
anyone is going swimming today, it is you Lord Wroxham.” Cynthia
turned on her heels and strode out of the room. Alice followed her
and tried to dissuade her from this recklessness.
Freddy
turned to his friend and said, “James, old boy, she may be a
headstrong young chit, but this is outside of enough.”
“Obtuse
as always, Freddy. What do you mean by that?”
“She
isn't ready to race you and you know it. It was bad form to twit her
into another race.”
“She
seems game.”
“I'm
sure she is. She impresses me as a headstrong lass. Still, she's not
ready to race you, and it will be on your head when she is hurt.”
Cynthia
knew she wasn't ready. She shook off Alice at her room, by telling
her, “Don't worry Alice. I won't do anything dangerous. I know I'm
not a good enough rider to race your brother. Still, I can't be a
coward, can I?”
Alice
was about to reply, “It isn't cowardice to turn down an invitation
to a foolish deed,” when Cynthia shut the door in her face.
Realizing she had been rude, Cynthia quickly opened the door again
and told Alice, “I'm sorry for that, it was so rude of me. Trust
me, I'm not about do to anything foolish. If I can't keep up with
your brother, I'll let him go on. It's just.”
Alice
replied, “It's just you can't bear to be thought unwilling or
scared.”
“Exactly.
I have my pride. Now, I do have to get ready, so if you'll excuse
me.”
Alone
at last, Cynthia touched her earring again, “All right Chris, I
need something to slow down Lord Wroxham's horse.”
Chris
was scandalized, “You'll cheat at a race?”
“It
wouldn't be a race if I don't. You know that. I just want to equalize
our handicaps.”
“Yes,
Ma'am. Still, I wish to lodge an objection to this conduct.”
“Your
objection is noted, but ignored. You know me. I play to win.”
“Ma'am,
it would be best to play the demure young woman. That is how you
attract most men.”
“Chris,”
Cynthia paused, “Have I ever been a demure young woman?”
“No,
you haven't. I suppose a small dose of a tranquilizer won't do his
horse any harm. I'll instruct your med-kit to make one. It will look
like a lump of sugar. Give it to the horse before you start.”
“Thank
you.”
Cynthia
rang for Hannah. It was time to put on her borrowed riding habit.
Lord
Wroxham was surprised to see Cynthia standing with the horses when he
arrived at the stables. He noted her presence by saying, “Miss
Morris, I see that unlike most of your gender, you are punctual. Are
you prepared to race, or should we postpone our contest for another
day?”
Cynthia
smiled at him, looked him directly in the eyes and said, “I'm as
ready as I'll ever be. What do you propose?”
“To
the village church in Carling, and back. It's a good six mile run.”
“On
the roads, no jumping?”
“As
you say, no jumping.”
“Then
I agree.”
Alice
and Freddy arrived in time to see the end of the race. Lord Wroxham
was ahead, but just barely. Cynthia was riding with a confidence and
verve that he had not anticipated. They joined the small knot of
grooms who were watching the last few yards and cheering on the
competitors.
The
two horses thundered into the yard, then pulled up. Lord Wroxham
walked his horse over to Cynthia's. He extended his hand to her,
“That was well run Miss Morris. I'm not used to anyone staying on
my heels that long. I did not expect it to be so close.”
She
returned his handshake. “I must say, that was fun. Maybe I'll win
next time?”
A
pair of grooms came forward and took the horses' reins while they
dismounted. Lord Wroxham continued, “We can't race for at least a
week, my horse will need to recover. I wouldn't expect to ride him
for a few days.”
His
head groom walked over and concurred. “Lord Wroxham, sir, these
horses will need care if they aren't to be lamed.”
Cynthia
agreed and said, “I must add that I'm tired. I shall need a short
nap to recover myself.”
Lord
Wroxham closely observed her. It was clear to him that she was
barely, if at all, winded. So as she was leaving he asked, “Do you
need to talk to your imaginary friend?”
She
stopped short and replied, “What imaginary friend?”
“The
one who lives in the book.”
Cynthia
turned and asked him point blank, “If he's imaginary, then how can
I talk to him?”
“Maybe
he isn't imaginary?”
Cynthia
had nothing about that to say to him, or any other native. Even if he
was handsome and had a nice smile.
As
soon as she shut the door to her room behind her, Cynthia called up
Chris. “Alright Chris, what the f- f-, what have you been up to?”
“Me?
Ma'am?”
“Don't
play the innocent with me. What happened? That Lord Wroxham just
directly asked me about you. Have you been talking with him since I
told you not to?”
“No
Ma'am. Not at all.”
“Good.
Do not talk to him, understand?”
“Except
about your health?”
“Only
if I'm seriously ill, and only then to stop them from quacking me
with some awful medicine.”
“Yes,
Ma'am.”
“There
was a question I needed to ask you, before I was distracted.”
“Ma'am?”
Cynthia,
muttered to herself, “What was it? I seem to be losing my focus
lately, growing soft.”
Then
she said to Chris, “That tranquilizer you made for me. It was just
a lump of sugar, wasn't it? Wroxham shouldn't have been faster than
me.”
“Yes,
Ma'am. It was just sugar.”
Cynthia
considered his response, “Chris, it is so unlike you to give me
false information or prevaricate like this. I wonder if that last
Cataxi shot did more damage than you reported.”
“Ma'am?”
“Did
you run a self-check on your processors?”
“Yes
Ma'am. They're fine, as are my memory units. The repairs on the ship
are well underway, although I cannot fly at this moment. Why are you
concerned?”
“Why?
You directly disobeyed my order. If you don't have an excellent
reason, I will have to reset you.”
Chris
paused, then chose his answer carefully, “I knew you would ride
with increased confidence if you thought Lord Wroxham's horse was
nobbled. That was the best thing I could do to ensure your safety.”
“I
see. You might be correct. Continue.”
“If
you beat him badly there was a 95% likelihood that he would be upset
with you. There was a 25% likelihood that he would be angry enough to
send you away, and in any case it was certain he would continue to be
unpleasant. Whereas if you were a game loser the likelihood was
nearly unity that he and the others would take it well.”
Cynthia
considered his answer. Finally, she replied, “Chris. I do not like
it that you keep secrets from me. I am the best judge of what I
should do.”
“Ma'am,
may I be forthright with you?”
“Yes,
always Chris. Even if I don't like what you have to say.”
“You
are beginning to show the symptoms of withdrawal from the juice. Your
judgment is already affected.”
“It
is not!”
“I'm
sorry Ma'am, but it is. You would never have allowed yourself to be
teased into a dangerous race, would you?”
Cynthia
was about to reply, “Of course I would,” when she realized that
Chris was correct. She said, “Chris, I think you're right about
that. I suppose I shall have to just trust you, won't I?”
“Ma'am,
I have faithfully served you for thirty years, haven't I?”
“Yes
Chris.”
“I
should hope that you would trust me by now.”
“I
do.”
“Good,
Ma'am.”
“And
you're right. James would have been hopping mad had I won. He would
have known if his horse were nobbled, wouldn't he?”
“Yes,
Ma'am. He would have known, and you would be out on your ear in no
time.”
The
tiredness that Cynthia used as an excuse to withdraw to her room,
came over her in reality. “Chris?” she said, “I'm feeling
tired. Is that a symptom of the withdrawal?”
“It
could be. I would rest if I were you.”
Uncharacteristically,
Cynthia stretched out on her bed and soon was fast asleep.
A
couple of hours later, Alice knocked on Cynthia's door. “Cynthia?”
“What?”
“Did
you want to read?”
“What
time is it?”
“Mid-afternoon.”
There
was a bustling noise and Cynthia appeared at the door. She looked
sleepy, and was still wearing her riding habit. She said “I must
have been tired.”
Alice
laughed, “It looks like it. Did you need me to ring for Hannah?”
“I'll
ring for her, but why don't you come in? We can start reading while
she comes.”
Hannah
entered the room and found the two young women alternating their way
through one of Mrs. Radcliffe's romances. She coughed and said, “Miss
Morris, did you need me?”
“Yes
Hannah, could you help me dress for the rest of the afternoon. This
riding habit is hardly appropriate, is it?”
“No
it isn't. Miss, I think you have read enough Gothic romances.”
“What
do you mean by that?”
“Nothing
Miss.”
“Hannah,
I know I have an active imagination. It doesn't do any harm, does
it?”
“No
Miss.” She paused, went over to the wardrobe to pull out a suitable
gown, then said, “Miss, this may be a liberty, but.”
Cynthia
looked over at her, “It is a liberty, but say what you need to say.
I know you disapprove of my flights of fancy.”
“Yes,
Miss. I do think you are altogether too fanciful. Maybe it would help
you be more serious minded if you read more serious literature. Not
all the time, but Fordyce's sermons are proper.”
Alice
interjected, “Hannah, even you couldn't stand them.”
“Miss
Wroxham, I'm not flighty like Miss Morris.”
“Hannah,
I'll try reading them, but not while I'm reading with Alice. We're
reading together and it would never do to choose a book she loathed,
would it?”
“Yes,
Miss.”
Hannah
helped her remove the habit and don her muslins with her green
Spencer. Then she looked at the habit and huffed, “This will need
washing again, Miss.”
“Thank
you, could you see to it?'
“Yes,
Miss.” Then she left.
Cynthia
turned to Alice, who had been silently reading ahead, “Hannah
doesn't like me, does she?”
“I
have seen her acting less frosty. Should I have a talk with her?”
“Please
don't. You talking to her about whatever it is that she dislikes
about me, would only make it worse.”
Downstairs,
Hannah threw the habit at one of the laundry maids and let loose with
her frustrations, “That scheming hussy. She's worked Miss Alice
around her finger, and it's only a matter of time before she does the
same to the master.”
The
maid was shocked. An upper servant like Miss James, never addressed a
lower servant like her in such a familiar manner. She spoke, “Miss
James? Are you well?”
Hannah
remembered her position and gave a quelling reply to the laundry
maid. “I'm fine, now mind your manners, lest you be turned off
without a character. Miss Morris needs this habit clean by tomorrow.”
“Yes
Ma'am.”
The
master was having issues of his own. Freddy had let him know in no
uncertain terms that it was not sporting to challenge a beginner like
Cynthia to a race or for that matter to accept her challenge.
His
objections, which were along the lines of “Freddy, she's damn good.
The next time she might win,” were to no avail. It was hard for him
to be convincing when he knew Freddy was right, and he should not
have challenged a beginning rider to a race.
It
wasn't until Cynthia and Alice came downstairs together that he had a
respite. Cynthia immediately walked over to him, curtsied and said,
“Lord Wroxham, I'm sorry that I let you tease me into accepting a
race with you. Would you forgive my temper?”
“Miss
Morris, I should not have teased you into a race. Can I add that you
rode remarkably well?”
Cynthia
smiled at him, “I did, James, didn't I? You need to thank your
sister who is an excellent teacher.”
Alice
blushed at the compliment. Lord Wroxham replied, “Cynthia, next
time let's have a friendly ride. It will be easier on the horses.”
“I
would enjoy that. Do you think there might be time for conversation
while we're riding as well?”
No comments:
Post a Comment