Trying Patience

Chapter Thirteen

Julia, although she was no longer the hostess, still felt she ought to speak to every guest, especially the ladies. That was what she had been taught, but so far Mrs. Newman's company was still too interesting. "What did he think might happen if he did not marry you?" she asked.

"Accidental touches, glimpses ... which might not be as desirable between unmarried people as they are between married ones."

"How could he foresee them?" Julia wondered, thinking of her unexpected kiss. It had been as unpredictable as it had been unstoppable. She did not think he had foreseen it any more than she had.

"Not entirely, but he could tell there would be more," Mrs. Newman said gravely. "I could not, but since I liked him, I did not mind marrying him. He was already asking my opinion on many things anyway."

Julia left Mrs. Newman after some more innocent talk and went to Evelina Pritchard. The weather could be saved for Sir William and his son, so she chose to comment on Evelina's gown.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Evelina said with a blush.

Lady Pritchard was less afraid of Julia than her daughter and she did not wait until she was spoken to, but she joined them herself. "I heard from Mrs. Tompkins that you are working on a secret project with three buttons! Is that the newest fashion from town? May I see it?"

Julia raised her eyebrows. "I merely said that to confuse her. It is really nothing fashionable at all."

"But you bought buttons for something. Three."

Bless the village gossip network! No purchase could ever remain a secret. She wondered what they had made of the buttons with the anchors. Hopefully they would think those were for Julian. "I think three may just fit onto a cloak for Julia."

"I wonder that Mrs. Tompkins did not think of that!" Lady Pritchard cried.

"Mrs. Tompkins generally does not think of the most logical explanation first," Julia said dryly.

"Did you know," said Mr. Newman, who was just passing, "that she claims that you are secretly the duke's mother, but you are afraid to own up to it?"

"I am? But why?"

"I am afraid I cannot do the convoluted explanation the justice it deserves," he said with a grin.

"How absurd!" Julia exclaimed. "Was my wedding so long ago that nobody in the village has any recollections of it? They kept me here for years until I was fit for society." Perhaps people did indeed not remember events of nearly thirty years ago. She had never married Julian's father. He had never even visited the estate much.

"Oh, that is true!" Lady Pritchard remembered. "They did indeed keep you here until they had trained you to be a good duchess."

Julia grimaced. She did not want to inspire any pity in anybody who did not yet know the particulars of her history. "I did not mind." She turned and caught the eye of the admiral. He must have overheard. He was very good at overhearing.

"They should have trained the husband to be a good duke too, but they did not," Lady Pritchard said to Mr. Newman.

Julia winced and she and the admiral locked gazes. She could see compassion and, surprisingly, guilt. Then he looked away thoughtfully, but his eyes were upon her again instantly when Mr. Newman spoke.

"I know," Mr. Newman said. "That is why she hired a steward for the estate."

Julia looked away. She had only one objective and that was to stop being the centre of attention. People speaking and staring made her quite nervous at this moment. She did not want to hear what else they could say or think about her. Her eyes sought an innocent party. Everybody else was already engaged in deep conversation and she was never very comfortable interrupting a conversation between two people -- Julian and Sir William, Clementine and William, Evelina and Mrs. Newman, and Lady Pritchard and Mr. Newman. Mrs. Newman would have been free if Evelina had not evilly stolen her away seconds before, but she must certainly not interrupt Mrs. Newman's speaking to anyone. She so rarely spoke.

The only one who was not occupied was standing right before her and he did not seem to be going anywhere. She could cut him and head for the drinks, but then she would have a drink and still nobody to talk to. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked him.

He studied the glass in his hand. It was nearly full.

Julia followed his gaze and gave a little sound. She was not at her sharpest tonight. "I..." But what could one say in one's defence here?

"...did not hear that question," he said.

"Why did you look guilty?" She winced. It was hardly any better than her first question.

"I was imagining people commenting on me in that manner. They could easily find something in my marriage that did not deserve praise." He could too.

"But that counts for everybody. I am sure you heard I had to be trained." The colour rose into her cheeks. "And almost thirty years after the fact I commit such an unobservant stupidity."

"But I did not hear it," he said gallantly.

"That is a small consolation. Do you value perfect composure?" Perhaps he did not mind her silliness.

"I abhor it." There was so much that would not have happened with perfect composure. "Think of..."

She was afraid to look around. They would see her eyes and she was afraid they were a little too bright. "Is anybody interested in what we are discussing?"

The admiral glanced around the room. "It does not appear to be the case." He took a sip and spoke from behind his glass. "They are not even interested in whom you are speaking with. You have a lovely necklace."

"Admiral ... raise your eyes," Julia requested with a blush. "You must not stare at that area."

He raised his eyes obediently. "Should I take the necklace off to study it?" He now knew how, assuming it had a similar clasp.

"You are not interested in it." This was very exciting, speaking of such subjects in secret. Fortunately a permanent blush was less noticeable. Onlookers would ascribe it to the heat in the room, not to the agreeable impertinence of the admiral here.

"You must really not bend over," he said in concern. "That was what I was thinking."

She pressed a hand to her chest in alarm, but then she relaxed. "Do not tease me so. There is no harm in doing that, but ladies should preferably not bend over at all, because they will have red faces if they do and that is not becoming."

"You blush very becomingly. What shall I drop?"

Julia opened her mouth and froze. She only barely managed to swallow the words that had occurred to her first.

The admiral looked interested in her reaction. His eyes had widened and his expression was one of evil delight. "I swear I meant that innocently," he said. "But I cannot vouch for the direction my thoughts took me in instantly afterwards, although I suspect I have company. Sadly you will never admit it."

"Let me amaze you," Julia said in an unsteady voice. "I do admit it."

The gong sounded and the party organised itself to enter the dining room. The gentlemen sought the ladies they were to lead to their place and then they looked where those were to be seated. Julia was glad to be in the company of another man for a few moments so that she might regain her equilibrium. She had been standing on some edge.

"Why..." said Julian, looking at the cards with the names. "I thought I had mastered this skill, but apparently not."

"I am not a guest. I go in the middle," Julia said with a slight tremor in her voice. She hoped he would think she lamented no longer being at the head of the table, but that was not it.

Clementine was behind her with a soft whisper. "Anne really only speaks to me and you. You must sit across from her."

So she was sitting there to be across from Mrs. Newman, not to be next to Admiral Henson. It relieved her a little, although she did not know how sincere Clementine's explanation had been. It was fortunate that she could now not stare at him, but she should take care to pay some attention to her other neighbour, Mr. Newman, as well. He would probably already be guessing, since he was that sort of man.

"Would you like more patterns if I can find them?" Julia addressed Mrs. Newman after the soup had been served.

"Only if you find them by accident."

"If Mrs. Tompkins hears you have patterns, she will try to see them!" Lady Pritchard remarked from the other side of Mr. Newman.

"But she had neither children nor grandchildren," Mr. Newman said in a bemused tone. "Whom would she dress? Mr. Tompkins? In a little sailor suit?"

"He is her child. Did you not know?" Lady Pritchard said with a cackle. "That is what men become when they reach a certain age."

In horror, Julia saw a small meatball from her soup roll off her spoon after a jerky movement. It did not even have the decency to land on the table, but it chose her cleavage. Trained as a duchess and she could not even eat properly. Surprisingly that was her first thought, not the ball of meat down her gown. Glancing about, she tried to ascertain who had seen it. Only the admiral, of course. He was trying not to choke. She wondered why he did not laugh outright, given how he abhorred perfect composure.

"I..." said the admiral, turning rather red. "Excuse me." He was trying very hard not to appear to be laughing at Lady Pritchard's comment, because he was not. He was too well entertained by the meatball. "I think ... a meatball ... went down the wrong passage."

Julia stared after him as he left the room. This might be her chance to get rid of that meatball. It would be strange if she claimed another accident in a few minutes and it would be even stranger if she tried to remove it here. "Oh ... well, he should not be spitting it out onto the carpet. This is not a ship." She pushed her chair back and followed him, not looking back to see what anybody thought of this departure. She took care to walk with dignity and not too much eagerness.

The admiral was clinging to the banisters, shaking.

Julia beckoned him and led him into a dark room. "Are you laughing at me?" she inquired.

He let himself go. "How could you even ask?"

She waited patiently until he had recovered well enough to speak, trying in the meantime to find out where the meatball had gone. "I cannot walk about leaving little round droppings on the floor. I am not cattle." Belatedly she recalled he had said the same to her once, when she had prodded him with her parasol.

The admiral snorted and coughed. "Have you found it yet? I do not know why you went in here to look for it. It is pitch dark."

"I did not want to be seen. Besides," she said, trying to squeeze her fingers under the neckline of her gown. "The darkness does not signify, for I cannot look into my own gown anyway."

"Well, are you ever fortunate! Come here. Which excuse did you give for following me?"

Julia felt her arms being seized. "I did not want you to spit on the floor."

"Say more things like that and I might!" he gasped. How credible did such an explanation sound? "Be still. Let me help you." He felt his way up to her collarbone. "From here, it went..."

"Down the middle," she emphasised. Was he going to search for it? "Admiral!" she said with a small squeak. She was not used to this.

"Do not Admiral me," he said, but he kept his hands still. "You would not want any admiral to do this, I hope."

"I really do not know if I want you to do this either." But perhaps he could be trusted. He did appear to listen to her when she wanted him to stop.

"John."

"John," she repeated with less of a squeak already. "But be serious and gentle, not so..."

"I was! It is not my fault that you become a giggly little girl. They had better keep that door closed," he remarked. "But yes, I know it went down the middle. Are you sure you did not already leave a dropping somewhere? I am having little success finding it."

"Hurry, hurry. They must wonder what is taking us." Julia tried to keep her mind on the company in the dining room and not on his hand.

"Found it, I think. Are you sure you are not wearing little Julia's dress? If I squeeze my fingers between you and this tight band, will the meatball not roll down? I feel it, but I do not have enough room to grab it without turning it into pulp."

"No, it will get lost in my underclothing if you let it roll down. If you do not mind, I would not like it going astray like that."

"I think the gown is so tight that bending over is not as dangerous as I had feared. Bend over," he said. "Over this arm and I shall wriggle it out with my other hand."

"This is very strange," she commented, bending over his arm. "Why do I allow you to wriggle in front of my gown? I should not." But she enjoyed it.

"Because," he said, concentrating on the task at hand, "you know I have touched you before and at the moment I am only helping you find a meatball in a very serious and gentle manner, as requested. Got it." He stuck it into his mouth.

"G-G-G..." Julia cried, hearing that. "Disgusting!"

"It was still warm. Go, go back in your disgusted state. That will be so much less suspicious. Tell them you could not find me."

Admiral Henson paid very little attention to Julia during the rest of the meal. He felt he had to become acquainted with Sir William now that he was sitting across from him and he left Julia to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Newman. If he placed his feet far apart -- for maximum stability, he defended himself -- he could just nudge her.

Julia was trying, but she could not forget that he had eaten the meatball. She had told the others she had not been able to find him and they had seemed to believe that. The admiral had come in a little later, but through another door. She had not known he knew the house so well.

After the meal, Julia found herself sitting next to Lady Pritchard, who on her other side was flanked by Admiral Henson. The conversation was interesting, she was sure, but it could not keep her mind from straying until suddenly a remark was made about the fastidiousness of sailors. That word caught her special attention, since before then Lady Pritchard had been speaking of Julian and Clementine. Belatedly Julia realised her neighbour could very well still be speaking of Julian.

"Are they not fastidious, Admiral?" Lady Pritchard inquired.

Although the admiral had been silent, he had apparently not been attentive. "Who, Madam?" he asked, if startled.

"Sailors!"

"Fastidious?" It seemed he did not yet see a connection or perhaps he refused to see one.

"In their choice of wife."

"I have never paid attention," he answered and moved away with an excuse in the long pause that followed upon his words as Lady Pritchard digested and theorised to herself.

"Well," she said, a little taken aback. "And he deserts us. For my part I think he is a dashing gentleman regardless."

"Regardless," Julia repeated with some wonder at the implication that this was worth more than any faults the man might have. She knew some people thought along those lines and she still did not understand it.

"Is he married? How much is an admiral worth these days? Where does he live?"

There was undoubtedly more that Lady Pritchard could ask, but these few questions were enough for Julia to give her a strange look. "I have not asked. Wait. I am sure he could satisfy your curiosity much better than I can." He was talking to Evelina Pritchard anyway and it would not be a bad thing if he were forced to return to the mother. Evelina was far too young. Of course her mother did not think so, given her interest in the admiral.

"Julia!" Lady Pritchard said in vain.

Julia had already taken the admiral's elbow. "Admiral, Lady Pritchard wishes to be satisfied on some points regarding your personal circumstances."

Evelina Pritchard looked embarrassed that her mother had ever dared to voice her curiosity in such a manner.

"Wife, mistress, income -- that sort of thing?" he inquired. "That is all rather public knowledge, I would say."

Julia's eyes flashed warningly, but Evelina was looking shocked already.

"I give you leave to tell her everything about my personal circumstances that you see fit to reveal, Your Grace," he said and then he saved himself. "Your nephew must have told you something about me before I arrived."

Admiral Henson turned back to Evelina when Julia had left them. She was still looking mortified. "My mother!" she said. "I must apologise for her impertinent curiosity."

"She may not really have said it," he soothed. He had no idea why Julia would consciously embarrass a neighbour to such an extent. Perhaps he was merely doing something he should not.

"Do you not trust Her Grace? I should sooner believe her than my mother in this instance."

"Is the duchess trustworthy?" He was interested in her neighbours' opinion of her. Some had known her since her marriage.

"She is not as talkative as my mother. And I am sure she disapproves of gossip. I think." Evelina looked uncertain.

"It does not matter, Miss Pritchard. I can handle a little curiosity. As for the public knowledge, that refers to the income of an admiral," he specified, in case she had received the wrong impression.

"Y-Y-Yes," stuttered the girl. "I did not assume anything else."

"Good, good, because my lady would. Her mind..." He smiled, thinking of the comment about dropping she had swallowed. And down the middle, she had said, as if had been about to abuse the opportunity.

Evelina blinked rapidly. "But if your lady is not public knowledge, only your income, perhaps you should not be telling me about her."

"I should call Mrs. Henson extremely shy, Miss Pritchard." He saw that the girl was suitably impressed by those words, especially by the mention of Mrs. Henson, of course. "But it is very good for her that I am less shy."

"Yes, yes," said Evelina, thinking about that. "Very good."

"I am telling you no more than you would learn about her if you spoke to her -- and until she speaks for herself, I will not do so." He could make her believe anything he said, he supposed. What he had said so far had not been particularly sensible, but Miss Pritchard had looked as if nothing could have been more impressive.

"Did you really, Julia?" Lady Pritchard was appalled to hear her question had been put to the admiral.

"I did."

Her curiosity proved to be stronger than her embarrassment. "And what did he say?"

"His personal circumstances are public knowledge," Julia passed on dutifully. She kept one eye on the admiral and the young girl. Evidently he was saying some interesting things to her because she was hanging off his lips.

Chapter Fourteen

"Do you often dine here?" Admiral Henson asked Evelina. He was only interested in hearing about Julia, of course.

"No, my mother mostly visits during the day and I do not always go with her. But the duchess and Mrs. Black dine at our house more often than we dine here."

"Who is Mrs. Black?" He was surprised that nobody had mentioned the woman before, given that she seemed to go to dinner parties with Julia.

"That is her cousin who is now away for a few weeks, but she lives here as well."

"Is her name Lavinia?" Someone had mentioned an Aunt Lavinia. He was glad someone had mentioned her at least. It made no sense to speak to him about her, but it was rather insensitive if nobody missed her.

"Yes, but I would not call her that."

"Is she Her Grace's companion?"

"Well, Her Grace was left all alone when Monster -- I mean, Daniel -- grew old enough to go away on his own and he was always away and her cousin was also a widow, so that is how they arranged it. I do think she was often alone before that, because he would have been at school, but perhaps she did not mind it as much when she was younger."

"That is possible. I am beginning to mind it myself as I get on in years." He understood her perfectly.

Evelina stared at him. "Oh surely you -- but your wife --"

He corrected his misstep smoothly. "When she is not with me, I mean. I mind." He stopped before he could say something as foolish as wishing he could retire so he could spend all day with her.

Julia soon came to hear what the admiral had told Evelina, because the girl came to relate it all to her mother and Julia was still sitting right next to her.

"He says Mrs. Henson is very shy," Eveline revealed in a whisper.

"Oh!" said Lady Pritchard. "Is that why she is not here?"

"Shy?" Julia interrupted. "Mrs. Henson?" There was no Mrs. Henson, as far as she knew. Why then was the man inventing one? What sort of fun was he trying to have?

"He says it is very good for her that he is less shy," Evelina said. "Do you know what else he said?"

"We do not."

"That he would tell me no more than what I would learn about her if I spoke to her -- which seemingly is nothing!"

"And such is his description of his wife?" Julia asked in a sarcastic voice, although her sarcasm was more directed at Evelina's swallowing it without the least bit of critical thought. "How full of affection."

"Consideration, I thought!" Evelina ventured. " Do you not agree that it is considerate of him? I assumed she is not fond of exposure."

"I thought he was a widower," Lady Pritchard recalled belatedly.

"I thought so too, but I am not asking anything again," Julia said in determination. "We would only hear more lies and inventions if we tried, since there is no wife." His inventions only confused her. Why was he saying these things?

Julia had given the matter of Mrs. Henson some further thought. She was afraid enough to wonder if there really was one he had not told anybody about. Mrs. Henson's being shy -- she imagined something like Mrs. Newman here -- could be the perfect excuse for his silence. The lady would prefer to remain in the shadows in that case, while the admiral misbehaved.

He came to sit by her now, but he said nothing. Although she supposed that was because Lady Pritchard was still on her other side, it was a little unsettling. She wanted to ask him if he was having fun with his inventions, but she only managed a glance.

"Admiral." Lady Pritchard seized her chance. She did not care very much that Julia was in the middle.

He turned his head and upper body towards her. Julia did not mind that he leant against her a little. In fact, she leant back. It was agreeable to be so near.

Lady Pritchard pressed on. "I thought you were a widower, Admiral."

"Not anymore," he answered, lest she should try to set him up with Evelina. The look that Julia gave him was so full of pain, anger and humiliation that he winced, especially because it was so quickly replaced by a studious coldness. He was again doing something wrong. "Widowers are single men, Lady Pritchard, and I do not consider myself unattached," he said in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation.

"But not attached to a wife?" Julia inquired in a tone of cold and indifferent civility that hid her fears.

"She will not have you, Admiral?" Lady Pritchard exclaimed before he could answer. "What foolish creatures young girls are nowadays."

He took a large gulp of air upon hearing she instantly concluded it had to be a young girl. Could a man who was advanced in years not fall in love with a woman his age? "Oh no! Mrs. Henson is not foolish, but a lovely creature, very beautiful and very sweet. I merely did not know how long one remains a widower after a new attachment."

It was impossible for Julia to get up, sandwiched as she was between the two, but she would very much like to. She went pale.

"Actually it is my first true attachment," he continued.

Julia could just hear Lady Pritchard exclaim how romantic that was before everything went black.

"Oh dear! Someone revive her!" Lady Pritchard cried, fluttering a handkerchief in agitated impotence. "I knew she disliked the word romantic, but I never knew she hated it with such a passion!"

Clementine had come in response to the commotion and she managed to bring Julia back to life. "What happened? This is not good, fainting twice in a day," she said kindly.

"Go away," Julia said weakly to the assembled crowd. She would rather faint again than explain herself.

"Could you...?" Clementine said to the admiral, who was still seated next to the elder duchess. "We shall take her to the next room."

"Of course," he said readily and lifted Julia from the sofa. It was not difficult, since she had fallen his way. He quite agreed that Julia should be removed, especially from the presence of Lady Pritchard. Something in that conversation had made her faint, but he did not know what it was.

"No, no!" she protested, but it was in vain. She was carried to the room next door and Clementine opened the window for some fresh air.

"I am afraid I shall hurt my back or drop her. I went rowing earlier," said the admiral, looking around for a sofa. There was none. He settled for laying her on a table. That was easiest for his aching muscles.

"Thank you, Admiral," Clementine said gratefully.

He took off his coat and rolled it into a pillow for Julia's head.

"I am lying on a table," Julia lamented. "I do not want to be here."

"Aunt Julia, you must tell me why you keep fainting or I shall have to summon the physician," Clementine said to her. "This is not normal."

Admiral Henson was feeling her pulse with his watch in his hand. "A trifle agitated, I would say, but that might just be from being on a table."

"Why, yes!" the patient cried. "Who would like being on a table? Why not the floor?" He had left her there before.

"Because of my back. You have a fine colour, good hair," he said slowly as he examined her. "Perhaps only a trifle agitated."

"Are you a physician now too? Clementine, do something. Make him wear a coat." She closed her eyes.

"But he looks as if he knows what he is doing," Clementine replied. "And you are lying on his coat."

The admiral gave her a wink and returned his attention to Julia. "I am not going to operate on you. Do not fear. Has your heart been out of its regular order in the last few days? Any extreme agitation?"

"Oh!" she cried. How could he possibly ask that while he was feeling her up under Clementine's nose? And how could he possibly do so if he spoke of having a wife?

"There it comes again," he noted, still feeling her pulse. "Yes to extreme agitation. Your Grace, that would explain your fainting."

"You blackguard!" Julia's body convulsed. "You have no clue about medicine."

"Clementine, would you bring her cloak? Some fresh air will calm her down."

Outside, Julia surprised him by running away and jumping into the pond. He had to jump after her. "Who do you think you are? Ophelia?" he asked when he had pulled her up. "You read one book too many! In case you had not noticed, this water is only waist-deep! Or were you going to wade away from me?"

Julia said nothing. She did not know what had possessed her other than a sudden fit of despair and burning cheeks. She was not even certain she had intended to drown herself. The cold water made her teeth clatter and she clung to the admiral, saying nothing because she was too embarrassed to speak.

He dragged her out of the water and made her walk back to the house. There he stopped her. "You are on the brink of insanity."

"You are a liar and a cad," she retorted bitterly, wanting him to deny that as vehemently as he could.

"I think it is time for some close supervision," he decided, still recovering from the shock. Who knew if she might do it again when he was not there to save her?

"And you will again feel up a woman pretending to be -- to be --"

"A man? Julia, Julia. Be silent or be sensible."

He took her upstairs to his room. He knew the secret way by now. "Let me put you into bed," he said softly. "Take off these wet clothes."

Julia's teeth were clattering even more now. "I cannot. My hands are cold."

"You will be even colder if you do not take off your clothes." He began to remove them. "Is there no end to these undergarments? I can see why you did not want anything to get lost in there."

Julia knew he had almost reached the last one when he asked, but she was afraid to say so. She had no idea what he would say or do if he did. All he did, however, was reach for a towel and dry her off until her skin was red. Her face was too.

He pulled one of his shirts over her head. "Into bed. Stay there," he ordered when she was in bed, although he thought she was finally going to be sensible.

Julia was going to remark that it was his bed, but she dared not. She watched as he undressed himself, but then everything went black again.

When she opened her eyes, he was sitting beside her in some sort of robe. "A tentative pattern emerges," he said. "You need to find another way to let your feelings out, or you will keep fainting. Talking is obviously not your strong point, Julia. This morning I went rowing to deal with my feelings, but I think we ought to avoid water right now and not set you in a boat. You might jump out. Correct me if I am wrong and you are truly suffering from some illness."

She shook her head.

"Well then, Duchess. I shall send down a little note in naval cant to inform them you are with me," he said provocatively.

"No!" she protested in horror.

"In ordinary language then?"

She pushed herself up a little. "You cannot let them know."

"How could you --" He broke off and tried again. "You never tried to leave, so I assume you must be comfortable here. How could you be ashamed of that at the same time?"

"My nephew would --" She stopped because she did not know what Julian would do. Perhaps it would not work to threaten him with Julian.

"Come and shoot me? Have breakfast for two delivered tomorrow? What would your nephew do?"

"Surely he would not allow me to be here!"

"Has he any authority over you? I think not." The admiral smiled as if he did not think Julian had any authority over him either.

It was not a matter of authority, but respect. "But you do not understand. This is precisely the sort of behaviour we have tried to -- we did not want in our family. There was too much of it."

"I am sorry to hear it, but this is not the same." He was thankful that she had finally identified one of the sources of her distress to him. Some patience was still required until more progress was made on either side. He kissed her on the top of her head.

"You would say so," Julia grumbled.

"Yes, I would. I am taking very good care of you here, if I say so myself." He sat down at the table and wrote a short note to Lenton. "Would you like to read it?"

She took the note and studied it.

Your aunt had a small accident. I took the liberty of prescribing her serious bed rest and solitary reflection. I was required to change my clothes and will take this opportunity to retire for the night. Please excuse me to your guests.
~ JH

"Serious bed rest? Solitary reflection? Where will you sleep then?" She had been assuming he would stay. After all, it was his own bed that he had put her in.

"My dear, reflection is always solitary, no matter in whose bed it takes place," Admiral Henson clarified. "But chances are your nephew will not read it like that."

"I am to engage in solitary reflection beside you?" Julia gave him a dubious look. She was not certain whether she ought to like that, but it was certainly more agreeable than something entirely solitary.

"Yes -- let me get this dispatched. Do not go anywhere."

In the morning she still did not know anything about Mrs. Henson. The admiral had not mentioned her once and perhaps she did not even exist. He had certainly behaved as if she did not and Julia did not want the warm feeling his consideration and kindness had given her to be spoilt by asking about Mrs. Henson.

It was the admiral who spoke first. He was sipping some hot drink by the window -- she could see the steam rising from his cup. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Someone brought --" This was too horrifying to imagine. That person would have seen her here, asleep in a man's bed. She pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Nobody brought, nobody saw." He put down his cup. "I went to the kitchens myself. Would you like some coffee?" he repeated his question.

Since he was patting his lap, she got out of bed, clutching the neckline of the shirt he had given her to wear as tightly as possible. Then she remembered the meatball and she let go of it. It would be hypocritical. Still, she looked a fright -- her hair was half undone and the shirt barely reached her knees. Since the man appeared not to have any dresses, she seized a pair of trousers.

"Come sit now, Julia. Surely you do not want stockings and a waistcoat to go with that?" he remarked, half impatient, half amused.

"These are horribly uncomfortable," she said, taking a seat on his knees.

"No, I prefer them to dresses. If we ever find ourselves in your room again, I shall bring my own clothing. We must share a cup too," he said, giving it to her. "I could not very well take two cups for myself. Really, I am not so bad. I am beginning to see why you unsuccessfully drowned yourself."

"Why?"

"Rather than die of mortification and shame, you would die of silliness. That was not a very good idea at all."

"Yes, remind me again of the depth of the pond," she said sarcastically.

"That too, but -- how could you leave me?" He disliked sounding so pathetic.

Julia squirted out some coffee in amazement. "Leave you?"

He did not notice the drops staining his clothes and he would not have cared if he had. "Supposing you had drowned yourself, where would that have left me?"

"With Mrs. Henson?" she squeezed out. There, she had done it. He would now speak about her and dash all her hopes.

The admiral's eyes widened. "With -- lord, I would drown myself too if I were that obtuse."

"I beg your pardon?" Julia was very confused now. Who was obtuse?

He took away the cup and kissed her first to calm her down. He was lucky that she was within reach. "I -- Mrs. Henson! I now see why that would make you even more desperate. Poor girl!" he said with feeling and kissed her again.

Although that was agreeable, Julia had to tell him something. "Pray do not kiss me until I know she is dead."

"Please do not faint," he begged. "She failed to drown herself."

She was stunned and for a moment she thought she might faint indeed. "She is me?"

"How else could I have got Lady Pritchard to keep from encouraging me to look at her daughter? I could hardly tell her I was busy entangling myself with you, because our precise status was -- and is -- hardly clear. Yet I thought you expected me to say something at least. I thought it was clear enough."

"Entangling. And I am not your mistress," she remarked in wonder. What other sorts of entanglements could there be? Entangling pointed to something that was increasing in intensity.

"I do not want a mistress."

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Is that a proposal?" His eyes twinkled. "It must be -- you are wearing the trousers."

Julia did not think it was a proposal. The outcome was not negotiable. "You must marry me, but do you want to?"

Fortunately the admiral saw no reason to object. "If you can assure me that the only reason you keep being mortified is because you think someone may see you with me and deduce what you did to me, I do."

"I did nothing to you! But what other reasons could there be?"

"You may not like me well enough." He looked at her closely, as if he was not certain she dared to admit that she liked him very much.

She looked at him in fear. "I hope you will not drag me to the others to announce I like you well enough and so on, or off to the pond I go." She did not know why, but she wanted to avoid that at all costs.

"When I leave I shall take you with me in secret, so that nobody will know until they read your note," he promised her, his eyes beginning to shine.

Julia's face brightened as well. "Yes! But that is called eloping, is it not?"

"My dear, if it makes you happy, I do not care if it is called eloping. But, as with everything, that will only apply to young people, not to the mature and responsible decisions of older people," he said smugly.

Chapter Fifteen

"Oh, the advantage of age!" the admiral sighed a while later in deep contentment. "Nobody would suspect us of anything because we are past it and our passions have faded." He was rather hungry, but he was loath to get up from his chair. He had a pleasant companion and a beautiful view of the park.

"Hmm," said Julia, whose health had undergone a remarkable recovery. She was certain she was never going to faint anymore. The man was certainly not past curing women, whatever he thought he was past.

"Am I rambling again, Your Grace?" he inquired upon receiving this unenthusiastic reaction.

"You mean the opposite of what you say when you ramble, or so I have noticed..." she spoke slowly. "Slow is actually fast and --"

"-- and guns are actually guns," he nodded.

Julia nudged him in protest. "Therefore I was merely reflecting on my dislike of the word passion. What will you be unleashing upon me still, Admiral?" She eyed him in distrust.

"Your Grace, I think I ought to ask you the question, since I am not the reserved one. How passionate will you become after a little provocation? I think you might outdo me, which is not very difficult." He gave her a lazy glance. "And calling me by my name is not going to make you turn into something wild."

She gasped. She was sure she was not like that, capable of becoming excessively passionate after some provocation. She was inclined to think of herself as calm-tempered and rather at a loss how to deal with anything more exciting.

"See, there you go already," he observed, enjoying himself. "Passionately flashing eyes."

"No!"

"My dear, you need not fear me. I fear you. As I said, I am past it. You have a lifetime of sitting by the window to look forward to. May the view and the company always be as good as it is here!"

"But Admiral!" Julia glanced at the bed involuntarily. She did not think he always preferred to sit by the window. He certainly did not hate being in other locations.

"Not too much, do not worry."

She blinked and looked out of the window for a few moments. Then she turned back and saw he was watching her with a keen interest, bordering on the mischievous. "You are playing a game with me!" she exclaimed accusingly. "You want me to say that I --" She stopped, not sure how to phrase it. He wanted her to say she would not mind too much of it at all, she was sure, yet that was a very underhand way of gauging her opinion in a matter she should not have an opinion on in the first place.

He laughed. "You are delightfully dishonest with yourself."

"Yes, a hypocrite," she said bitterly, looking outside again.

"Listen, Julia," he said, suddenly serious. "You are not a hypocrite. Would you have preferred me to arrive, see you and turn upon my heels to get a licence? What a decent and stupid woman you would have been in that case."

She ignored the truth of his words. "How does getting a licence instantly not make you stupid?"

"The same would apply to me, but I accept the fact that perhaps I was not entirely decent."

"Not entirely! Entirely not!" She did not say whether she still cared, however.

He got up and pulled her up into an embrace. "Julia. I love you. Stupidity and indecency included. I do not have the skills to court you in a decent manner, but they are required for such a short time only that I beg you to overlook that deficiency."

"You seem to have better husband skills," Julia said as she rested her face against him to muffle her words. She did not think he had many deficiencies.

"The ones I was always said to lack?" He was surprised. "Could you repeat that?"

"No." There were other matters plaguing her. She held the waistband of the trousers up with one hand. These things were not made to stand up in. She wondered how men fared.

"I should avoid embarrassing you, my dear. It can be amusing to see you react, but it can equally well be painful," he mused. It was probably impossible to avoid provoking her altogether. He rather enjoyed it.

"That serves you right for provoking me," Julia commented, though not too harshly.

"It does," he agreed. "I am so hungry."

"You should have brought some food from the kitchens as well." She did not look fit to leave the room, fiddling again with the waistband.

"I did not know we would be so late." He eyed her critically. "You cannot cross the corridor dressed like this."

"Trousers are awful things," Julia said with a nod. "They do not fit. Yet I cannot go out undressed and I cannot go out in wet clothes. What would you have me do?"

"We shall think of something."

Julia had managed to get to her room unseen. She had dressed and gone down to breakfast. Admiral Henson had already finished when she appeared and he was just talking to little Julia.

"But I want to go fast," he was saying.

"Fast!" little Julia squealed.

"You like fast," he concluded with a sigh. "I am not deterring you in the least. Good morning, Your Grace," he said politely, as if he saw Julia for the first time today.

"Good morning," Julia repeated to everybody. She expected some inquiries about her accident of the night before, but those did not come instantly. Perhaps the admiral had already satisfied Clementine and Julian's curiosity. Now that she knew him to be capable of inventive lies, she ought to be wary, perhaps. There was nothing she could do about it at this moment, but if they were granted a second alone she would have to ask him what he had said.

"Come with me then, if your Mama approves," said the admiral with a sigh.

Julia thought that was merely mock reluctance. He would not mind gaining a grandchild.

"Mama approves," said Clementine. "You will take care that she does not fall in, will you not?"

"I must, if I do not want to get wet. Come, Julia."

The other Julia ate her breakfast quietly when they were gone, still expecting questions from Julian, but he seemed completely enthralled by his paper. Clementine had wandered away, but she returned. Julia had completely forgotten they were to speak to the housekeeper today. Although she had very little enthusiasm for housekeeping matters at the moment, she had to adhere to her promise. She was not sure whether Clementine thought she could not do it alone, or whether she insisted on this arrangement out of consideration, releasing the former mistress of the house from her responsibilities gradually rather than instantly. Julia would not be surprised if it were the latter.

She tried not to be distracted during the conversation and she believed she managed tolerably well. She flattered herself that the housekeeper and she had laid such an excellent foundation that Clementine could not feel that many alterations needed to be made. It did help that the girl would rather not. Of course, little Julia's development required frequent adaptations, but that was a different matter.

Julia thought she could leave them without creating too much confusion. It would go well. She needed not stay to run the house, but she could leave with the admiral when he chose to return home.

She walked out into the park, seeing a boat on the pond. As she came closer, she could hear little Julia's excited cries. When she could make out what precisely was being said, it turned out to be horribly naval.

The admiral was so nice as to row closer to the side. "Let me guess," he called, "you want to know what she is saying."

"You enjoy teaching her bad words, do you not?" She should not be so indulgent with either of them, but she could understand him so well.

"Yes, she said there was a pirate straight ahead we were going to teach a lesson. Very bad indeed, since you are not a pirate but a very sweet lady. Come aboard, my dear."

"How?" Julia estimated the distance from the shore to the boat to be further than she could jump -- not that she would jump at all.

He was surprised that she asked. He had not expected her even to consider it. "Lift your skirts and wade."

Julia was appalled. "Are you serious?"

"I could step out and carry you, but I am afraid the pirate would throw herself or the oars in if I turned my back towards her, especially if I told her not to." As he was speaking, he kept one hand on little Julia's shoulders.

He had a point and she removed her shoes. Her stockings would have to get wet. "Hmm," she said as she tested the temperature of the water with her toes. "Do I really want to? Give me a good reason to join you."

"I need you," he said dramatically and then thought that was a trifle overdone. "I am not lying. Why do you think I am floating on a shallow pond when I could be rowing on more manly waters?"

Julia was a little amused, in spite of feeling the cold creep into her body through her feet. She tried not to think of how cold it had been the night before. "Is she more than you can handle, Admiral? And what might manly waters be?"

"Yes, she is more than I can handle. I admit my defeat. Please help. And manly waters is only nonsense."

"I must be insane," Julia remarked to herself as she began to wade. She could never say no if he asked for her assistance. He had a certain persuasive charm.

"No, you are not. I adore you. Give me your hand. I shall pull you in." He turned aside to caution the little girl. "Sit still, you little ... pirate. Sit still."

"Gramma in the boat," little Julia observed, trying to stand up. "Lift Gramma."

"I would love to," said the admiral, "but I know you will dive in if I do. Sit down!" he shouted when she stood on the bench.

"Ammiral is angry," little Julia piped up, not at all impressed.

Julia raised her skirts with one hand and took his hand with the other. She stepped into the boat with one foot and felt herself being pulled in. To regain her balance she sought support on the admiral's shoulder, but it was not enough and she landed on her posterior rather abruptly. "This is awful!"

"Is this your first time in a boat?" he wondered, noticing her ungraceful movements.

"Can you tell?"

"Not at all," he lied. "But you are in! And you are dry! Sit beside Julia, so I can row."

Julia eyed the other bench fearfully. "How do I move there without falling over? This thing moves." She wondered how Julia could stand on that bench when it all swayed so much.

He assisted her and placed her on the seat across from him. "There you are. Hold the little pirate. She has threatened to jump out about five times already to go after ducks."

"Duck!" little Julia pointed.

"No!" he said emphatically.

Safely seated now, Julia had more time to study him. "John, you do look a little vexed," she said in concern.

He pulled at the oars and began rowing towards the river. "I would not say I needed you if I did not. I should have phrased it differently under different circumstances. Are grandfathers allowed to discipline their grandchildren, do you think? Or are they only to indulge?"

Julia had not had to pull little Julia back at all so far. She wondered how bad it had truly been. Little Julia was sitting contently by her side, one arm on her knee. "Everything within reasonable bounds, of course. Are you revising your opinion on grandchildren now? I think we might have more of them."

"We!" he smiled. They could have many grandchildren together. He had only thought of little Julia so far, but of course there might be more.

"If you are willing."

"Your nephew must be willing," he corrected provocatively.

"But you must be willing to see them as such," Julia said with a blush. She thought he might be. He had smiled.

"I am. They cannot all be as obstinate as this one, can they?"

"I want to play with Thomas!" little Julia cried when they passed a house that stood a little distance away from the river. She pointed at it and waved.

"Who is Thomas and why do you prefer him to me?" the admiral asked sternly.

"Thomas! He is there!" little Julia pointed at the house.

"Has she already got a suitor?" he asked Julia. "Is he in his twenties? Thirties? Forties? Even older?"

"We might as well," she said, thinking this was actually a rather good opportunity. "Mrs. Newman ... er ... I could talk to her while you played with the children. She will be glad to have you take them for a bit."

"I am so useful," he muttered. "Suited to every task." He was happy that little Julia's friend appeared to be a child. He considered her capable of putting older men under her spell as well. So was her grandmother.

"Oh! Would you object?" Julia asked as if it had not occurred to her that he might.

"I am entirely at your service, my dear. I must rejoice in this high opinion you have of my abilities."

"I can only think very highly of you," she agreed with a smile.

"Even if I cannot handle the little pirate? Although you must think I was exaggerating, but she was really much calmer in your presence. You have a very good effect on everybody, I think." The admiral gave her a dazzling grin.

She tried to look away, but she failed. "Old charmer."

"I should have kissed you in the bend," he said after a moment. "It is too late now."

"It would not surprise Mrs. Newman," Julia heard herself say.

"Oh, is that why -- but you forget that she might be entertaining an old biddy from the village. You had best accept my verbal assurance that I would really like to do it."

"I suppose you had understood from my words that I would not have minded?" she inquired.

"That is always pleasant to know. Jump ashore," he said with a nod.

She looked to her right. Several feet of water separated her from the grassy bank. Assuming she would manage to stand up for more than a second, she would still not be able to jump that far. "Now? How? I would do a lot for you, but --"

"Well, onto that small pier behind you. We are crashing into it in a second, so it should be easy to climb on."

"How was I supposed to know that?" Julia cried. "I thought you wanted me to jump the moment you said it."

He rolled his eyes at her.

Mrs. Newman received them in surprise. She managed a blush and a soft comment, but then she fell silent. Julia thought that the admiral's presence was frightening her. "Why do you not take the children outside to play with them?" she suggested to him. "Do not play hide and seek because there is a river."

"Yes, Your Grace. Her Grace will summon me when Her Grace needs to be conveyed back to her estate, will she not?"

"Oh, go away," she said hurriedly, nudging him. He should not be mocking her like that. She was not ordering him at all.

"I am sorry," he said to Mrs. Newman. "May I take Thomas?"

She nodded and he took the two children out.

"Oh!" Julia exclaimed with a deep sigh, taking off her shoes so her wet feet could dry more easily. Fortunately a fire had already been lit to dry baby clothes and she sat in the nearest chair. "You may be able to guess..."

"Is it sorted?" Mrs. Newman asked. "What happened last night after you fainted? Neither of you came back."

"Did anybody say anything about that?" She was still concerned.

"No, not at all. Lady Pritchard tried to ask, but Clementine said you had gone out for some fresh air and then when the admiral's note was brought in, Lady Pritchard assumed you had vomited on his coat and nobody told her we could not possibly know."

"But you did not think I had done that."

"That would have been too much of a coincidence. I did think both of you would be too well-mannered to simply stay away while you were ... er ... reaching a solution, so I assumed that you really had a little accident, though nothing very serious because he only prescribed you bed rest and reflection."

"My nephew read the note to you! I suppose it keeps people from guessing if it is innocent enough, but it is -- I jumped into the pond," Julia said with a shrug.

Mrs. Newman stared.

"So I got wet."

"I see. Yes. I see."

"And then he took me to his room because he thought I was insane. And I never came out of it until the morning. He took Julia rowing, but he could not handle her, so I had to come on board when I saw them and Julia wanted to --"

"Wait!" Mrs. Newman exclaimed with uncharacteristic impertinence. She had surprised herself and looked a little more subdued. "You did not say you talked. Tell me he knows exactly why he is here."

"If we had not talked, he would not have known?" Julia wondered. He might have come along regardless.

"Not exactly, I think. But he knows it now?"

"Yes. He will marry me. I shall go away with him quietly when he goes. I could not bear to relate the whole story in one go and admit to having --" she grimaced. "I would rather send a letter. In that case I should also have the advantage of not seeing how they react."

"That is very good news -- about the talking," Mrs. Newman smiled. "But you must be very clear about your going away, or they will end up with the wrong impression."

"I shall try to be."

Chapter Sixteen

During the following few days, they took care not to be alone together too often during the day. They spent some time with Julian and Clementine, as well as with little Julia, who could never get enough of playing.

Admiral Henson thought he should not too noticeably monopolise the aunt, tempting though that was. He felt more attached to her than he had ever felt to any being, which was odd given their short acquaintance. Of course she was beautiful, or so he thought, but his interest had not progressed into a deeper feeling until he had spent some time with her.

Her behaviour to people she knew better had been most revealing, since she had been a little wary of him in the beginning. He could not blame her for that cautious attitude, but reciprocating cool and distant manners would never have elicited any genuine reaction from her. Although in retrospect this sounded very calculating to him, he knew he had been following his intuition and not some rational approach. If he had known what he was about, she would not have had to faint so often.

Despite not having sought each other out during the day, they had spent some time together during the night. In spite of Beckett's warnings he had not stayed in his own bed all the time. Either he was not there or he was not alone. Julian and Clementine appeared to be oblivious to these nightly excursions, which had caused Julia to be more relaxed about them. There was still the matter of little Julia, who also liked company and who appeared at the oddest hours. Julia had carried her back to her room whenever possible, so that Clementine would not come in search of her daughter. He was less afraid of that, since the little girl's presence precluded anything untoward from occurring anyway and he did not think Clementine would scream in shock if she found him with both Julias.

He still believed he took excellent care of Julia. That she occasionally took care of him drove Beckett insane, which was amusing. Beckett was not used to ladies. Whatever his experiences with the opposite sex had been, they had not been of such a nature as would have led to marriage, and he had certainly never found any ladies in the admiral's chambers or cabins. That there was one now who had determined opinions on what his master was to wear and do, was unsettling. Perhaps, the admiral reflected, Beckett found it even more unsettling to see him acquiesce.

"Will she come to sea?" Beckett had inquired. "It is much smaller there than here."

"Perhaps." He was not certain that Julia would be equal to sailing, but the choice was hers. He would like the company and that the space was limited at sea was not a problem. "Oh, and she will come to town first. By the time I am going to sea, you will have become used to her, whether she comes or not."

"You are serious about this, Admiral," his man had uttered in some surprise.

"And why not, Beckett? I may not sail very often in the future. There will be plenty of time to...whatever it is that people do on the land. I look forward to assisting with the grandparenting, for one." He realised he had never done much in the way of parenting and such a remark might therefore sound odd. It was a different situation, though. He was older and wiser now.

Beckett did not think his master had grown wiser and his face betrayed that all too clearly. Perhaps he did not even consider the admiral old enough to be having such thoughts.

Admiral Henson had announced he would leave at dawn, without saying why he chose to leave so early. He had stayed a week and deemed he had spent sufficient time with his host. He had, after all, originally come to see the duke and not the aunt, although after he had come back from his daughter he had come to visit the entire family.

The admiral took his leave of everybody before going to bed, making them promise him they would not get up at dawn to see him off. Since he had a good reason to think Julian would ignore that, he had agreed with Julia that she would meet him at the gates. She would have to slip out of the house unnoticed, which could not be difficult for someone who had spent the greater part of her life here.

Julia gave Hilary long and detailed instructions at night about following her later, finding out that nothing was really a surprise to her maid. She also wrote an explanatory letter to Julian, the most complicated task of all.

Dear Julian and Clementine,

There was a reason why Admiral Henson wanted to leave at dawn, other than the distance to be covered: I shall have gone with him and I did not want to see your reactions to this news because they would mortify me.

Please do not be too alarmed by this development. I am especially afraid of Julian's reaction, since he and I have always condemned such behaviour: you will recall my being ill.
The admiral respects my wishes in every aspect. Clementine must understand me here. He is even willing to put up with your doubts about his character, although I can assure you that the decision to leave was not spontaneous and if you must have any doubts, have them about both of us.

I have nothing else to say in my defence; your knowledge of him must speak for itself.

Should you insist on an explanation in person, we shall stay in his house in town until he goes to sea, but you are not welcome if you mean to be angry. I have not eloped. He says that term only applies to young people, not to the mature and responsible decisions of older people such as your aunt:

Julia

In the morning, the admiral was not surprised to see Lenton had come down indeed. "Do you want to make sure I was really leaving?" he asked, stifling a yawn and a grin. Perhaps the younger man expected his aunt to be here for a more passionate goodbye than that of the night before. It was impossible to ask.

"A good host does such things," Julian said noncommittally.

"I knew you would." Julia would be mortified if it happened, but her betrothed really did not care if he was found out. It was only for her sake that he kept quiet, even if he hoped Lenton was so perceptive as to have noticed something. He preferred people whose insight could admire.

"I hope you had a pleasant stay with us."

"I did. You will hear from me," the admiral assured him, again refraining from revealing too much. Lenton, he thought, suspected something indeed, but whether it was a mere partiality or more was unclear. "Fairly soon. I have to convey my gratitude to little Julia and I will send her a gift from town, something she will undoubtedly appreciate." He would find her the prettiest doll in town.

"Why?" Julian looked puzzled.

"Ask her. Tell her I will send her another doll to sleep with, to replace the one I took from her."

"You took --"

"She gave it to me. I liked it. Ask her." He climbed into the carriage before he said too much. "Do not forget to ask her. It is important."

The carriage picked Julia up at the gates. The coachman looked shocked to see whom they were taking, but she did not look back at him. It would not matter. By the time he would be back at the house, Julian and Clementine would have read her note and everybody would already know about it.

"Undone," she said, holding onto the admiral very tightly inside the carriage. "I am undone."

"Is that another word for excited?" he asked. Someone who was undone would not cling so possessively to the man who had been her undoing. "Because you have me at last?"

"My fate is in your hands. What will you do with me now?" It was perhaps a foolish question. She could trust him.

"We shall not stray from the plan that we have discussed about twenty times already," he soothed. It was not much of a plan. They were simply going to his house.

"I am foolish," she sighed.

"Yes, that is why I will not leave you alone. You will come with me. This is quite exciting, stealing a lady from her house -- even if she did participate."

"Boy," she scolded, but she relaxed her tight grip on him, settling for something more comfortable.

"It will be all that is good and pleasant. Sleep some more." He was planning to do the same.

Although she had relaxed, she was too excited to sleep. "Did anyone see you when you left?"

"Your nephew. I do not know what he came to check, but he saw nothing, did he?" he said smugly. "But he might have been a little surprised at your coolness when you said goodbye to me last night."

"It was polite!" Julia protested.

"Yes, cool."

The admiral ordered the carriage to go to the mews at the back of the house. He descended from it first and greeted his housekeeper, who seemed glad to see him after his absence and surprised that he arrived at the back. He had something to tell her and he cut her short. "Mrs. Sheppard, I brought a lady."

"A lady!" She frowned, although she knew she would be expected to treat that lady with every respect. She would have to be courteous to any woman he brought into the house, no matter what her private opinion might be.

"The Dowager Duchess of Muncester."

His housekeeper frowned some more. Quite obviously she had not expected the lady to be titled. "Would that be the aunt of the gentleman you went to visit on your way, Admiral?"

"Yes, the very one."

"The one who had a son who a girl set up in this street?"

"Yes, that one." He did not understand why she stressed that there had been a son. It might refer to Julia's age, but it could also imply something with regard to her permissiveness.

"I must ask it, Admiral," she decided after a moment. "So I know how to receive her. What is she to you? Is she anything to you?"

"Wait, Mrs. Sheppard. Let me get her." He ran back and returned with Julia, who followed with the hood of her cloak over her head. He removed it when they had reached the kitchens. "This is Mrs. Sheppard, my housekeeper."

"But that cannot be the duchess, Admiral," Mrs. Sheppard said disapprovingly, taking a step back. "Do not take me for a fool."

He looked astonished. "Why can it not be the duchess?" His housekeeper's behaviour was puzzling. She should have respectfully greeted a lady he brought home. That she would do anything else was something that had never even occurred to him, let alone that she doubted Julia's identity.

"Too young, sir. She a grandmother? No, I will not have anything to do with your games. I thought I worked for a respectable gentleman."

Julia looked taken aback at this odd welcome, although after a second she considered it a point in the admiral's favour that bringing a lady home was out of character for him. She wondered what he would say in his defence. He did look adorably confused. She laid a hand on his arm.

"But --" The admiral examined his lady's face, as if he did not know what she looked like. "But she is --" Then he decided against what he was going to say.

"And you only stayed with the duke for one night!" Mrs. Sheppard continued. "Only a stop on your way. One night. That is not long enough even for a cad."

He straightened his back. "I am a cad then, because I spent that first night in bed with a little girl and her grandmother."

His housekeeper gasped.

"Clever. The whole neighbourhood will know about it tomorrow and my good name will be gone," Julia said crossly, although she was not angry. There was still time to correct this version. "And the little girl will be left out of the story, even if there would not have been any story without her."

"Not at all. Mrs. Sheppard does not talk," he assured her.

"So you are only strategically tactless?" she asked with a resigned laugh.

"Quite. I could have said you were clearly long past thirty, but I did not."

"Oh!" she cried, but she smiled. He could have said long past forty, so he still considered her young-looking.

"When you smile it is less clear. Mrs. Sheppard, do you believe me regardless?"

"I must," the housekeeper said reluctantly. "Welcome, My Lady -- Your Grace. Please accept my apologies for thinking you too young."

Julia nodded. Too young. It was not the first time recently that an insult was mixed with a compliment. She had become used to it.

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