Sunday, July 22, 2007

Words on a page

Ceci was abruptly stopped by Mr. Brooke in the dramatic departure from what she thought a very off-putting conversation. She left her friends feeling almost humiliated by Samuel Redford's part in the dialogue. She would never admit it to herself, but there was also a quiet, lingering feeling of disappointment in her new acquaintance. She loved the country, her country,and its people, but nearly everyone she knew, excluding Marie Tout, her parents, and in some ways, Marguerite, expected a woman to be a meek, uneducated bumpkin. In the back of her mind, hidden behind her festering grudge against the well-to-do class, she'd hoped this gentleman possessed a more liberal viewpoint and might, if not argue her point, at the very least sympathize with it. But she was wrong, and in a way, it was a relief. She felt that if he had stood to her standards, she would be a traitor; first, because she had found a fault in the society of country folk she held so dear and belonged so thoroughly to, and second, because of the tiresome vow she'd made to herself and to the love she had for her sister to forever loathe the prideful upper crust.
Her mind was so engrossed with these thoughts that she hardly heard Mr. Brooke call her name until he was suddenly directly before her; she stopped mid-step, startled.
"Oh, Miss Moore-- are you alright? You're not leaving--?"
Poor Mr. Brooke.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Brooke. A terrible headache has just come upon me, and I'm afraid I'll have to retire early. It was a lovely party, though. You always give the most beautiful evening parties, you know."
Ceci said this hurriedly, for she was dismayed by dear Mr. Brooke's disappointment, but knew she could not stay.
"Well, dear, if you would just take a glass of wine, I'm sure--"
"No, no. Please," Ceci interrupted quickly, closing her eyes and pressing painfully at her temples, "I'm sure I'll be quite ill if I don't get home soon."
Quite suddenly, Mr. Corran Lennox was at her elbow. "Miss Moore, I'm terribly sorry-- are you alright?"
His anxious look sent a frustrating mixture of relief and annoyance through Ceci's mind.
"Quite, thank you," she replied, stiffening again. Why must he grasp my elbow like that as if I were about to swoon away?
"She says she has head-pains," Mr. Brooke said, with a sudden grin.
"Has she?" Mr. Lennox turned to Ceci. "Have you? May I walk you home? I only have my horse, but you might ride him--"
Ceci frowned. In a minute, she really was going to have a headache.
"You do begin to look ill, Miss Moore," Mr. Brooke said, hiding a grin behind a mask of worry and concern. "I believe you should let Mr. Lennox escort you home. It is most gracious of him, and your parents would be grateful, at this hour."
Ceci raised a hand to her head. Oh, for heaven's sake.
"Do let me take you home. Please," Mr. Lennox's grip on her elbow tightened slightly.
Well, if you're going to make that much fuss, Cecil thought. But what in heaven's name is that Brooke grinning for?
"I'm very much obliged," Ceci said finally, allowing Mr. Lennox to turn her in the direction of the house once more. "Mr. Brooke, be so kind as to tell Marguerite I've gone home with a little headache. Perhaps," a twinkle lit up her eyes for an instant, "You could suggest Christopher Tout to take her home?"
"Yes, yes, certainly." Mr. Brooke agreed vehemently, grinning ear to ear.

Though her mother and father had raised her to aspire to brains over beauty, Ceci always knew they would never approve of her secret inclination to wear men's trousers in order that she might ride. Really ride, not side-saddle, as young ladies were supposed to. Whipping wind always did wonders for her health.
Corran Lennox, expert equestrian, noticed that inclination in the way she mounted his horse; he smiled to himself. So far, this young woman had blasted away many misgivings he'd had in his thoughts after they'd met. He really was impressed by her, almost to admiration. She possessed a spirit that frightened away men who got a glimpse of it; but on the contrary, she had an inherent warmth and happy personality that drew people to her. Her careless laughter contradicted her sharp, thoughtful mind, a mind that had been built on a sound (though nontraditional) education. Yet, all of this fit comfortably into one person. In short, this was a young woman of paradox.
She immediately corrected her mistake, and mussed-up her dress to sit side-saddle. The poor horse looked almost as uncomfortable (with a lady on his back) as she did.
"If you feel faint, do tell me so at once. I'd hate for you to fall off and do harm to yourself." Corran looked up anxiously beneath his broad-rimmed blue hat.
"I'm perfectly well, Mr. Lennox. You needn't be afraid that I'll fall." Despite the comical nature of his hat, Ceci frowned down at him.
Corran took the lead, patted his horse's shoulder and began down the road.
Silence was never a thing Ceci could bear comfortably. Especially with someone near to a stranger. She said,"If you don't mind, Mr. Lennox, might I ask what you thought of Mr. Redford's conversation just now?"
"By 'Mr. Redford's conversation,' do you mean the way you bullied the poor fellow, or the way he answered your questions?"
Though he said this with a light, teasing manner, Ceci couldn't help but be indignant. It appeared very clearly in her voice.
"I'm sure I don't know what you could mean by bullying."
"You were merely trying to make a point, I know." Mr. Lennox said. "I only wonder, as you and Mr. Redford are such long acquaintances, why you took the trouble to wheedle away at the man when you must have already known what his answers would be. So, I suppose, to answer your question, I thought the conversation to be very curious."
He couldn't see it in the darkness, but Ceci was blushing furiously.
"Mr. Lennox," she said, gritting her teeth in anger, "I know it is the custom of such gentlemen as you to humble others with an arrogantly impressive display of conversation, but I must tell you I find it to be terribly ungracious and quite hateful."
Corran stopped. He turned round and looked up again at Ceci from beneath his hat, now askew.
"And what," he said, with an edge of cold in his voice, "would bring you to make such an assumption about me? How would you propose to know me so well?"
"Because you come from a society typical of such behavior, Mister Lennox." Ceci replied, spitting the words.
"Typical, really?" Corran paused. Then he shook his head and in silence, continued leading the horse down the lane.
Ceci was unnerved by his silence. Her anger continued to seethe, and underneath it, a growing sense of guilt that only made her more frustrated.
Of a sudden, Corran stopped again and looked up at Ceci. "Well, Miss Moore," his voice was very quiet, and despite the silent street, Ceci had to lean down a bit to hear. "I must tell you that when I first met you, I thought I saw such great kindness in you--real warmth, the kind I find so appealing in my country acquaintances. But I think you've proved that first impression quite wrong; and as for my behavior, I believe it hasn't been half so high and mighty as yours. " He turned now, walking slowly. "How does that little passage in the Bible go? Something about a splinter in your neighbor's eye?"
Now the guilt really did pervade Ceci's thoughts. In fact, it took her completely over. She had behaved monstrously. It was unkind to make a fool of poor Sam Redford. And to try and justify it in such a way...

... the journey down the lane seemed to draw out for ages. The whole long way, Ceci reflected and became more and more unnerved and upset.
Finally, they came to her house, and quietly she said, "We've reached my home, Mr. Lennox."
Mr. Lennox carefully and silently helped her dismount and walked her down her own walkway. Near to the great oak front door, Ceci said, "I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Lennox."
Corran nodded politely, avoiding her gaze as he turned to leave, until she said--almost in a whisper, "Before you go, I must apologize," she took a step forward with a contrite countenance, "for my appalling behavior. It was... most unkind and impolite. And really-- you must know, Mr. Lennox-- not a true example of my usual character."
Mr. Lennox smiled. "I know," he said.

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