Free Pasha by Julian Stockwin

Eskdale.
    The orchestra fell suddenly silent. There was a massed scraping of chairs as hundreds of the great and good of the county rose and stood respectfully, their faces turned to take sight of Lord Farndon and his bride-to-be.
    They processed in with great dignity—and on that day Cecilia felt she could bear no greater happiness.
    â€œDear Nicholas—it will come as a great shock to them. You remain here at the Angel, and I’ll go and tell them.”
    â€œVery well, my dearest.”
    Alone, Cecilia set out for home. It was a strange, eerie sensation, almost like floating on nothingness in a world that was so familiar but now about to be lost for ever. Would she make a good Lady Farndon, mistress of Eskdale? For the sake of her future husband, she would give it her all …
    She smiled at Mrs Simkins hurrying down the road and stepped hastily out of the way of the uncouth baker’s boy with his basket of bread. They’d barely noticed her in their bustling daily round—but most surely this was the very last time it would be so. When the news got out that a daughter of Guildford was marrying a peer of the realm there would be no more of the simple, unaffected life she knew.
    Hetty had been shocked, dazed, and had sat like a frightened mouse all the way back; she was herself only now recovering from that earthquake revelation.
    Shy Mr Partington, the Kydd school headmaster, saw her and fell into step. “Miss Cecilia? Do the gossips have it true, that you are to be—”
    â€œI am to be married shortly, that is right in the particulars.”
    She kept it at that and bade him a good day at her door.
    â€œWell?” prompted her mother, before she had even taken off her bonnet. “Were they nice, a-tall? Did you—”
    Cecilia bit her lip. This was not going to be easy.
    â€œMama, I’ve something to tell you—and Papa too. It’s very important: shall we go into the parlour?”
    â€œOh, dear, I hope this won’t take long. I’ve a rabbit pie as I’m …” She saw something in her daughter’s face and without another word hurried off to find her husband.
    â€œWhy, Cec—what’s to do?” Kydd wanted to know.
    â€œNot now, Thomas. There’s … I have to speak to them both.”
    â€œOh, well—”
    â€œNot with you, Tom. This is serious.”
    Her mother returned, leading her father. Cecilia followed them in and, with an apologetic smile, left Kydd outside to wait.
    Ten minutes later his parents came out—and they were as white as a sheet, passing him silently without noticing he was there.
    â€œCec—what’s this mean, for God’s sake?” he blurted.
    â€œThomas, I think we should take a walk in the garden.”
    They returned slowly, Kydd shaking his head in disbelief.
    â€œDear Tom. If you’re surprised, think how I felt. In the morning I’m Cecilia Kydd and in the evening I’m … well, I’m to be a countess.”
    â€œWhere’s he now, sis?”
    â€œAt the Angel until we send for him.”
    â€œWell, we’d better do that now. There’s a gallows lot to hoist in.”
    The maid was told to fetch Mr Renzi while Kydd gazed in awe at his younger sister.
    â€œHave you set a date yet?”
    â€œNicholas needs to have a consort by his side when he takes his place as an earl, he says. And so it will be an early wedding.”
    â€œThis year? Or six months only, you shameless devils?”
    â€œTom, we thought this week.”
    â€œWhaaaat?”
he gasped. “You can’t just—”
    â€œHe’s a noble lord now, Thomas. He will have leave from the Archbishop of Canterbury himself to wed by special licence.”
    Kydd sat down suddenly, lost for words.
    Emily bobbed at the door. “Miss, it’s Mr Renzi here.”
    â€œOh, do show him in, please.”
    Scrambling to his feet, Kydd saw his friend of years come