Trying Patience
After she had been home from the Newmans for a while, Julia wondered if she could somehow inform her husband that she had arrived home safely, in case he came close enough to England to receive letters. Julian would know if it was possible and she asked to be notified of his return as soon as possible. Although she told herself those few hours would not make a difference, it was nevertheless very annoying that he stayed away for so long today.
She had to think of her visit to the Newmans to pass the time. They had told her about all the gossip in the village. It was amazing how so few people could come up with so many ridiculous stories. Mr. Newman, of course, adhered strictly to his own theory, which was that the best way to defeat gossip was to provide it. In her case he said he did not know what she could provide, unless she knew of something wild herself that she seriously believed would happen, but she did not. She had had her wildest moment when she had met the carriage at the gates -- as far as the village knew.
At any rate she would take Mr. Newman's advice and not go to the village until her sickness was completely over, although this coincided perfectly with her own opinion. It was bad enough that he had seen her when she felt unwell. She would rather not have the villagers witness it.
She thought she might be rid of her nauseous spells soon. Her insides were no longer floating and her legs were steady again. She looked forward to her first day without vomiting. There was hope. Her situation had to change even more. If it did not, she might as well have stayed on board.
Julia wrote the admiral a brief note to say she was feeling better and enclosed it in a letter to a Mr. Happle. She had no idea who he was, but Julian had said he would keep letters and see to it that they reached the intended recipient as soon as possible, which amounted to shortly after his ship had come into port -- assuming she sent it to the correct port.
"Could I send as many as I like?" she wondered after she had placed the letter with Julian's outgoing mail. Now that she had finished it, there was so much more she wanted to write.
Julian looked amused. "Naturally. Happle does not keep them in his pocket, but he stores them well. The one thing you ought to keep in mind is that the admiral may not get to read them soon and that if there are too many if he comes back, he may not read them all."
"Did you ever use this option?" She would like to know if it really worked before she wasted any time writing, although with so much time to spare nothing would be a waste.
"Long ago, but it still worked last year. I do not expect him to have given up this lucrative side business. Did you think the grateful recipients never pay him? When do you expect the admiral back?"
"He did not know. He did not want to give me a definitive date in case I would count on it too much and think he was dead if he did not appear that day. Before the end of the summer." It was far too long until the summer and she sighed. She was never going to manage.
"That was sensible of him. Not to be specific, I mean," Julian explained. "It is not sensible of him to stay away for so long. How have you been feeling? I thought you had been feeling a little better these last few days."
"Yes, yes, a little," Julia said with a nod. "I have been able to keep most of my meals down every day and today I walked to the Newmans and back."
"Well..." He did not seem to think that far.
It had never been far, but she was not yet strong. "Mr. Newman had to support me on the way back, just a little. I could probably do it alone tomorrow or the day after."
Julian looked puzzled now. "I did not know you were such great friends that you would visit them every day."
"I had to ask him about the village gossip," Julia answered. "And he does have a wife, you know. Can I not call on her? You call on them."
"But he works for me."
"And he used to work for me. Besides, I think Mrs. Newman gets very few visitors." She was being good, visiting her now and then.
Sending a letter gave her other ideas as well. She knew next to nothing about John's family. He had a daughter he was not entirely sure was his, if she had understood that correctly, but that was all. No other family members had been mentioned, but he would have some, just like she did. He might well have informed them of his marriage -- he had handled business and bills and possibly correspondence a few times -- but if he had, he had not told her about that and it had not occurred to her to ask. Perhaps it had slipped his mind in a like manner.
She had the time now, however, and she could inquire. The Sheppards might know about any relatives and she wrote to them first. She hoped they were not offended because she had not come to town after going ashore. Perhaps they were instead glad that she had chosen to go to Muncester.
She glanced over the list of other people, some of whom might be informed of a change in family circumstances for the second or third time in less than a year. After a quick look she was not certain she would enjoy writing to them at all, but that did not make her feel like a very good person, so she read their names again.
Perhaps George Lenton, as her nephew who had lived her for a short while, deserved to be told, although she could not imagine that he cared. He would have cared more about Julian's marriage, since offspring could ruin his chances of becoming a duke.
Her first husband had had sisters once upon a time and there should be two or three still living. They had treated her with such disdain after her marriage that Julia had never liked them. Twice they had feigned friendship and interest -- first when Daniel had come of age and then when Julian had come ashore, both for the sake of their unmarried daughters, but Julian had been even less interested in his cousins than Daniel had been.
Julia had been afraid Julian would not see them for what they were, being so inexperienced in dealing with the vultures, that she had dropped all pretence of politeness during their third visit. They had not called again and Julian had never even noticed. In fact, although she had considered informing them of Julian's marriage, she had not done so because of Clementine and she was certain he had not written to them either. Considering that slight, they would certainly not have to be notified of her own marriage.
Julia turned to her own family. She would not say they were very fond of each other. Perhaps her own character was at fault. She was not good at befriending people, not even siblings. She got along better with her cousin. Lavinia already knew about her marriage, even if she was still with her daughter. Julian had written to her already, but she would write again.
Of her brothers and sisters, Julia had been the first to marry. She had been the eldest -- when she married the next had been only ten years old -- and her father had found her a spectacular match. Since she had had little taste for socialising and expanding her circle of friends, the younger siblings had not managed to benefit from her new connections and the matches they had made had been much less spectacular.
The eldest of her brothers, she supposed, was still waiting to make one. He could afford to, being ten years her junior, although his lifestyle must be beginning to take its toll on his finances. She had every reason to think it was he who had led Daniel astray, for he led a worse kind of life. She wondered if he cared at all. As with George, her marriage could not affect him in any way, especially considering that she was not marrying into a more exciting set.
Her sisters had married down, whereas she had married up. Added to the difference in their ages, their resentment and envy did not make for a good relationship between them. They would not look at her new husband's character now, only at his position and wealth. That was what she did not want.
These considerations reduced the number of letters she would write to two: the Sheppards and Lavinia. That would keep her much less busy than she had hoped.
Little Julia had picked up her habit of visiting during the night or early morning again. Her grandmother did not send her away and she knew it well. Julia had come to expect the invasion of the girl and the three dolls, because all three of them were always carried over as well.
"When your grandfather comes back, you must sleep alone again, Julia," Julia said. She enjoyed the company, but she was concerned about turning it into a habit.
"Why?"
"Because then he will sleep here." They might not even live here. She supposed they would return to his house in town.
Little Julia did not care that they would be three, or six, if one counted the dolls. "We can play!"
"Yes, of course we can play, but perhaps I want to play with him alone first." Perhaps little Julia was too young to understand that now. When summer came it might be easier to warn her away.
Little Julia laughed heartily at something. "Who is my grandfather?"
The question confused Julia. "What! You do not know? Why are you laughing?" There was no answer, so she would have to explain it. "A grandfather is your grandmother's husband and I am your grandmother, so he is my husband and my husband is a man with whom I play."
Little Julia listened attentively. "Ammiral."
"Yes, very good. I want to play with him."
"He is a most elegant man," the little girl said in an appreciative manner.
"Who are you parroting?" Julia asked with a sigh. Someone must have said that in her presence because she could not have come up with that word on her own. "You should not be repeating such things. Elegant man? He is not an elegant man. Do you by any chance mean excellent?"
"Yes. No."
"Elegant is..." Julia made a few elegant gestures that were received with laughter. "Can you see him do that? No. Excellent is ... good. Is he good? Yes. Who said these words to you?"
Little Julia tapped her chest and looked proud of herself. "I am clever. Mama's clever girl."
Julia rolled her eyes. "You are grandma's clever girl too. Is that was you are striving for? And what will you say to Mama? Everything I said?"
"Papa is a most elegant man."
Well, that was another possibility. Perhaps someone had been speaking of Julian, although he was not very elegant either. "That is quite as unlikely, Julia. Is Papa excellent as well?"
"Hmm," her granddaughter said, considering that. "What is that?"
Julia sighed deeply. It was still impossible to have a real conversation. "I take your point. Let us play with your dolls."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mrs. Sheppard wrote back speedily. Her letter was all politeness, so that Julia wished she had a reason to go to town. Perhaps she could think of one and present herself as a good mistress of the house. Having three possible homes was a bit much, however, and she was glad Mrs. Sheppard seemed to understand she would chose the one where her relatives lived, especially if she felt unwell.
It appeared that the admiral had a sister, a brother and even a father and that he had even visited the sister and the father several weeks before he had come to Muncester. Julia read this information with a shake of her head. She supposed the poor man had been terribly preoccupied with her, or else he would never have forgotten about his relatives. He could not have remained silent about them deliberately, for Mrs. Sheppard did not write that he lived at odds with them. She knew quite a lot about them and it was interesting that she did not mention the daughter at all, as if she did not think the latter deserved to be notified.
Julia wondered if, now that she did not have him with her, she had to keep him in her thoughts anyway by making admiral dolls and finding out about his relatives. It was perhaps strange, but if these actions made her feel better she was not going to question them.
It took her another few hours to contemplate the idea of writing to the Henson family, since Mrs. Sheppard -- unasked -- mentioned that he could not have informed them because he had not written, unless he had taken it to the post himself, which he never did.
How would John's relatives receive a letter bearing such news, from a woman who unbeknownst to them had married their son and brother? Would they be pleased, angry, surprised? Would they think he ought to have informed them himself or would they not care about it at all? They might lay the missive aside and wonder why she had bothered to tell them.
Eventually, since she was curious and since she realised she would not know how they reacted until she gave writing a try, she decided to write. That John might not want her to write was an option she did not give serious consideration. He was not like that. If she told him about the letter later, he would probably thank her for doing something he had forgotten.
It was not a difficult letter. Introducing herself, apologising for her husband's neglect, expressing the wish that his relatives would not think ill of him because of this oversight -- the words came easily. She wrote only to the sister. The brother, according to Mrs. Sheppard, was also at sea and Julia did not have a very high opinion of a brother's interest in family affairs anyhow.
It was just before Christmas when Julia received an answer from Mrs. Elizabeth Williamson. She almost tore the letter in half in her hurry to read it. How had his sister reacted to the news? What was she writing?
Dear Sister,
What a surprise it was to receive your letter. First of all I sincerely hope you are feeling well again. Although you mentioned it only in passing, I cannot imagine you are enjoying a separation so soon after having been wed. My dear sister, I hope your good health has returned and that another few months will return my brother to you as well. I deduce from your going with him to sea that you would rather not be parted from each other.
Such a beginning astonished Julia very much. To be called sister without reserve or caution! The simple acceptance of the fact and the sympathetic concern for her health had to be read again. It seemed as if going to sea with him had told his sister enough, yet there was no disapproval of the fact that she had not been able to stay.
We would never have thought John would marry again -- and so suddenly! He would
never talk of it to a younger sister, but I think he had grown very cynical
about marriage. I very much appreciate your kindness in letting us know he
succumbed, since he seems to have forgotten all about us. Your apologies on his
behalf were very sweet and perhaps this reconciles me somewhat to my neglectful
brother. How could he forget, unless he had other, more pleasant things on his
mind? You did not have to do this, but you went through some trouble to find
out about us and for that we are very grateful.
Julia wondered of whom she was speaking. Perhaps Mrs. Williamson meant herself and her father, although she could well mean to include her husband or the other brother.
We hope very much that you will consider visiting us because we are immensely
curious and eager to make your acquaintance. My knowledge of my brother is such
that I can only imagine you to be an excellent lady. You must not worry that we
think ill of him now. We could never. We knew he was to sail and if he also had
to marry you before then, we see how other things might have escaped his
notice. Well, Father does.
Julia felt relieved. They were going to be friendly and good-humoured. Perhaps she could visit. She was probably as curious as they were and they were her only connection to him at this moment. She felt a strong need to see her husband, but as long as she could not, seeing his relatives might offer her some relief. They might share some characteristics.
"They know nothing about me, yet they invite me," she said to Clementine. "What if they think I am some young thing who snared an admiral?"
Clementine gave her a small snort of amusement. "But is that not exactly what he thinks? Perhaps, Aunt Julia, you must not tempt fate and travel in a carriage. I have heard of people becoming very sick in them as well. You could invite them here if you want to meet them. Have you really not told them anything about yourself? No particulars? Why would they think you a young thing?"
"I gave them my name. Really, what do you think?" Julia asked, looking proud. Perhaps those people might indeed be interested in knowing more about her than merely her name, but her main objective had been to apologise for their secret marriage and she had not thought of anything else. "That I would give my age? I am his age and I have such and such hair and eyes and I am of average height and almost average weight? It did not occur to me at all to describe myself. None of that guarantees that I treat him well, does it?"
"They might want to know you are neither fifteen nor seventy, but..."
Julia resisted the unladylike temptation to her eyes. Of course she was neither! "Seventy? But what do you think? Would they come if I wrote? I daresay you are right about carriages. I am just feeling well enough not to want to relapse."
"If you invite them and they are curious ... which I think they might be because I would be if I were his sister..." Clementine looked thoughtful. "Did you explain why you live here? You did not do that either, did you?"
She shook her head. "I did not."
"So in fact they have no idea at all what the admiral has got himself into?" Apparently that was an amusing thought, because Clementine giggled. "Only that he got himself a wife who writes letters on his behalf. And they do not seem to care what or who you were before. Yes, you must invite them."
"You make me sound very..."
"...concerned?"
"He did tease me once that I wore the trousers," Julia said in resignation, although she did not think she was quite as strong-willed and authoritative as that. Her husband did not think so either, she believed. He had merely been teasing her.
"I can well imagine that."
"But I was really wearing a pair at that moment, so it had nothing to do with my character." That revelation, she supposed, would shock Clementine.
Clementine looked stunned indeed, as if she had never thought that possible. "You were? Whose?"
"His, of course. Very uncomfortable things, trousers." She remembered having to hold them up with her hand.
"Why? Where?"
"I am not sure I should tell you. It is very scandalous." Julia feared Clementine would laugh at her even more if she told her about jumping into the pond. "I had been silly."
"Silly? You can be silly, Aunt Julia?" Clementine looked genuinely innocent and puzzled.
"I see what you are about. Do not flatter me into indiscretion," Julia said sternly. "My clothes were wet and I had nothing to wear."
"Was this on board? Did you not bring any clothes? But you did. I saw your trunk when you came back."
"Tell me what you really thought when I -- when the admiral took me for a walk after he had laid me on a table?" She could not help emphasising that word in a rather disapproving manner, since she was still capable of starting an agitated discussion about that particular location.
Clementine hid her mouth behind her hand. "Aunt Julia, do you really think we were blind? The mutual interest was impossible to miss and I assumed and hoped that after I left you, you did something together."
Julia sat down to work on the letter. She wondered if she should address Mrs. Williamson as sister as well. It felt like an enormous liberty to take with someone she had never met, but her sister-in-law had started the familiarity herself and perhaps she would offend if she did not follow this example. The family's acceptance and welcome should not be rejected.
After thanking her sister-in-law for the kind letter, she wrote that her niece suggested that she had best not yet travel by carriage because of the motions that might make her ill again. That left her two options. If the admiral's relatives wished to see her soon, they were very welcome to come to Muncester whenever it suited them. If a visit was not within their means, Julia would visit them when she was fully recovered.
She wondered what they would do.
"Ugly." With that one word little Julia condemned her doll's naval outfit.
"Julia!" Her grandmother had spent so much time on making it and she had even abducted the doll to wrap it up as a Christmas gift. "Admirals wear this."
"John does not like it." With her small fingers little Julia tried to take off the doll's uniform.
Julian did not like to hear anyone make disparaging comments about naval uniforms. "Julia, he looks very nice in it -- even if it is not quite accurate."
"John wants to go to bed," she said, stubbornly persisting in trying to undress him.
"But we have not opened all the gifts yet. Let John keep his clothes on. Please. He looks very good in his uniform." After intercepting a glance from his aunt, he modified his opinion on the uniform's accuracy. "It is exactly what admirals wear. And let us for decency's sake assume he also wears that to bed."
"But John is a girl," little Julia protested. "He wants a dress."
"Was the uniform your idea, Aunt Julia?" Julian asked with a smirk.
"I was merely trying to make him live up to his name. But Julian, it is no use arguing with her. If John is tired, he is tired. She is tired. She will wake up in five seconds and she will want to be a boy in a uniform." Julia had plenty of experience with John the doll's variable moods. "Please open your own gift."
Julia felt well. Her sickness had disappeared. She could even suffer little Julia's opinion of the uniform. If little Julia was asleep, she could always dress the doll up again and have a little admiral. If that made her slightly odd, so be it. It helped her, even if the doll's hair looked nothing like that of the original, but rather more like Clementine's.
She was very happy that she was in good health again. More exercising and more eating had brought her strength back and gradually she had ceased to be the invalid. The others had also gradually stopped fussing over her, although Julian had apparently come to like the habit, because he now seemed to do it to Clementine. Perhaps he had needed some time to discover it was pleasant to make sure his wife was comfortable. The admiral, of course, had not had to learn, Julia mused with a smug feeling.
She watched them as they unwrapped their gifts. It was good that she had come back. There were matters regarding the servants and the tenants that neither Julian nor Clementine knew about and she had left without giving their ignorance any thought. She had been just as preoccupied as her husband, forgetting she had a successor to train. Even middle-aged people could be rash and thoughtless when the opposite sex bewitched them. Thankfully she had now corrected all of their mistakes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The new year started out cold. Julia hoped that the admiral's ship was in a warmer region when she went around the estate with Clementine. She looked at children throwing snowballs with their bare hands and shivered. It was at moments like these that she was glad to be home. She had a comfortable fire to which she could return later. Her husband might have to stand on deck in the cold and instead of snowballs there might be cannonballs going back and forth. If a ship sank then, the water would be very, very cold. She shivered again and hoped it was nothing but a fearful fantasy.
"Are you cold?" asked Clementine, who had seen the movement. "You should eat more."
Julia pulled her cloak tighter around her neck. "Even more? After you instructed Mrs. Gould to cook a Christmas dinner that would keep me filled for days?" The day after she had certainly not had much of an appetite. She was certain that the lavish meal had been so nourishing for her sake, although both Julian and Clementine had healthy appetites.
Clementine snorted. "Perhaps."
"The admiral need not fear seeing my ribs now." Julia laid a hand on her ribcage, as if she could feel through several layers of fabric. She probably looked a little healthier by now.
"What did he do to you? You have gone from telling nothing to telling all," her niece observed with some curiosity.
"What am I telling?" Perhaps a good balance should indeed be found.
"Well ... you said seeing, not feeling."
"Yes, I see what you mean," Julia said thoughtfully. She had wanted to say that of course a husband would see, but then she realised that was not true. "It depends on the sort of husband whether he sees, feels or notices. Mine wants to be observant. He is very good. He will be pleased to hear I have been eating well. Or he would, if someone could tell him."
Julia had been avoiding the village, but at some point that became impossible. Every year she wished it had not become a tradition to visit very single house in the neighbourhood, but this year she wished it a little more because of the circumstances of her marriage. Visiting the likes of Mrs. Tompkins, with all their gossip, was inevitable.
Since they were offered something to eat at every house, Julia began to feel a little full, yet it had been impossible to decline any of the offers. She had to mind people's feelings and treat every family as if it was the first she visited today. Thankfully Mrs. Tompkins was a busy hostess who ran about the room twittering and Julia gave Clementine an imploring look when Mrs. Tompkins had her back turned for a moment.
Clementine looked back quizzically.
Julia switched the saucers with the cake. Hopefully Mrs. Tompkins would not notice that Clementine's slice was uneaten yet again. "You are bigger. You have more room for food," she said under her breath.
It made Clementine giggle a little, but she ate the slice of cake as if it was her first.
"How lovely to have you back, Lady Julia!" Mrs. Tompkins gushed when she had supervised the pouring of the tea. "I hope you have completely recovered from your unfortunate adventure."
So marriage was an unfortunate adventure. Julia gave her a strained smile. "Well...perhaps if you could imagine life without Mr. Tompkins..."
"I am sure I could not!"
It was indeed unlikely that Mr. Tompkins would ever travel -- or be allowed to travel -- further than the nearest market town. He would always be back before nightfall, even if he had to walk. Mrs. Tompkins would not understand her feelings then, Julia thought.
"It was a surprise to hear you had travelled to town," Mrs. Tompkins continued. "I had not heard of an engagement before then."
"It does not take much time to decide upon one," Julia said politely. She would either have to cut the subject short or come up with some convincing lies, for Mrs. Tompkins evidently had some knowledge of how and when she had travelled to town. Sooner or later she would start asking where in town they had stayed. She would know there were two houses. "It takes even less time to get married. The admiral had a special licence, you see."
Her hostess was awed. "Yes, yes, I supposed he did. He went away to get one, I know."
It was marvellous how the truth adapted itself to one's wishes. "Exactly."
"I always knew he was instantly taken with you."
"Exactly," Julia said without any modesty. "It was all decided in a moment." It was not really far from the truth, she realised. She had not even had time to think of what was happening.
"He must have been very sad to see you go," Mrs. Tompkins said with considerably more excitement than sympathy. Obviously she hoped for some disclosures about the reason for Julia's departure.
"There are advantages to every situation. The admiral could have his hammock to himself now," Julia said, referring to the gossip that had been circulating in the village. They could not be very shocked at hearing something they had already been imagining, although they had perhaps been imagining her in a hammock on her own. They had a better imagination than she did.
Thankfully Mrs. Tompkins had enough manners not to pursue such a delicate subject.
Clementine did, however, when they were on their way again. "He has his hammock to himself?" she asked with a sort of gasp.
"I had been wondering why you were so unusually silent, Clementine," Julia remarked, outwardly unperturbed. "Was that because you were trying not to forget that question? You must not believe village gossip."
"Yes, Aunt Julia," she said meekly. "But I always thought one should not encourage village gossip either."
"Perhaps Mr. Newman influenced me," Julia said angelically. "He says he is the expert."
"Were you this impertinent with the admiral in private?" That idea seemed to amuse Clementine.
"Can you not imagine him marrying me otherwise?" Julia wondered. She would not call herself impertinent, perhaps merely a little playful.
"I knew he knew you were pretty and kind-hearted, which is enough for some, but you are beginning to be a little wicked now. Perhaps you also were before, in private."
Her aunt looked exasperated. "My dear girl, I was already wicked when I caught you in Julian's dressing room. Do you not remember the occasion?"
Lady Pritchard and Evelina visited later in the first week of the new year. Evelina was immediately called upon to play with little Julia and the dolls, and Lady Pritchard settled herself by Julia near the fire. First they spoke of making clothes and gadgets for their menfolk, then the neighbour proceeded to give Julia a longwinded account of the physical troubles that happened to women of a certain age.
"Of course you know it has been so irregular for years," Lady Pritchard whispered. "But I hope I shall soon be out of the stage entirely."
"Yes," Julia murmured sympathetically, wondering if she had really said too much about her husband having seen her ribs if Lady Pritchard told her about her health in such detail. "But perhaps I would rather not know how I might suffer. Irregularity is no suffering." Indeed it was not. She had not even noticed that she was entering the stage. How long would it last? "May I be so impertinent as to ask your age?"
Lady Pritchard looked around herself as if she was about to divulge a very deep secret. "Fifty. I am beginning to look it!"
"Be glad you did not begin to look it five years ago," Julia tried. She did not know whether Lady Pritchard looked exactly fifty, younger or older.
"Surely you must remember I had a figure like Evelina's!" Lady Pritchard patted her waist with some regret. "Now I am beginning to look like my mother."
Julia refrained from saying that looking like Evelina must have been very long ago, much more than five years. "I do not remember what my mother looked like," she said instead. "By the way, the admiral still has a father. I had written to his sister and she will come for a visit. Perhaps she will bring his father too."
"Why will they visit?"
"To see what I am like."
"What sort of family are they?"
"I have no idea about them and they have no idea about me." Julia expected Lady Pritchard to ask if there were any unmarried brothers, so she decided to mention that before she received the question. "There is a younger brother who is a captain in the Navy. He is not married."
"Oh?" That definitely captured her neighbour's interest. "Has he made a good fortune at sea?"
"I have yet to discover all the particulars. He may have exchanged all his teeth for a fortune, you know. Perhaps Mrs. Williamson will be able to tell me, but I am not very interested in the brother's fortune or appearance, only in my husband's appearance and I want him back looking exactly like he did when I left him." Julia hoped she would continue to be able to conjure up his image in her mind. It might become more difficult with time. She must be able to recognise him when he returned!
"The brother might be interesting if he takes but a little after the admiral," was Lady Pritchard's unashamed opinion.
After some perplexity Julia decided that was a compliment, although it was rather outspoken. "Yes, thank you. He is indeed a very fine gentleman."
"You never told me how he proposed."
"He did not. I proposed to him," Julia said gravely. She wondered if it counted as such. It was perhaps not comparable to other people's proposals.
"How ... singular," Lady Pritchard exclaimed. "Were you so sure of success?"
"Yes, he had no choice. It was all settled long before."
"Seriously? When?"
"When he ... saw me." Perhaps that should be when he had kissed her, but she could not say so. Some things should not be mentioned.
"That is so -- but I had best not say the word," Lady Pritchard said in a conspiratorial tone. "It made you faint last time. Perhaps that was why it was all settled. None of these silly fanciful emotions that young girls have. You looked at each other and you knew. That is so -- but does that not mean you knew when we were here for that evening party?"
"Er...yes, I suppose it does," Julia was forced to admit. She blushed when she could not get herself to admit to having silly fanciful emotions despite not being young.
"But he spoke of Mrs. -- oh! You were already married in secret! And there I was putting my foot in it!" Lady Pritchard was thrilled by the discovery. "Asking him if the woman would not have him! And there you were sitting right beside him. That was why you were sitting there! You already had him!"
Yes, she had had him, but she had not known it. She could only shake her head at that silliness now. "Old people flock together, do they not? Married or not. But why does everyone behave as if he is an exciting acquaintance from my past? He will be back and then he will be with me all day every day."
"An older man underfoot!" Lady Pritchard said with a shudder.
Julia felt provocative. "I cannot wait."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was never long before gossip reached Mr. Newman. As usual he was more than amused by it and he came to share his amusement with Julian. Julia was pleased that the gentlemen had befriended each other, even that they ran the estate while playing billiards, but when she caught certain words between the guffaws and snickers emanating from what could well be called the gentlemen's nursery, she had to investigate.
"Boys," she said coldly, appearing in the doorway. For once, the pair looked as if they had been caught doing something they ought not be doing. Usually they had no such qualms. "Your conversation was suspicious."
Julian studiously took aim at a ball and gave a pathetic performance.
"Was that a laugh at my expense, Mr. Newman?" Julia inquired.
"No, Lady Julia," he said meekly. "I merely came to inquire whether hammocks could really be shared and Julian says he does not know."
Julian gave her a sheepish smile. He could not deny that this had indeed been the topic.
"I heard a little more than that," she said sternly. "You were wondering if the last in was the first out and how a reversal of that order would be handled." She had had to interrupt; their discussion could well turn into a contemplation of something more delicate.
"Would you not wonder if you did not know?" asked her nephew in a defensive manner.
"It seems easy to me," she said with a haughty shrug. "Try it out."
They stared.
"I had been addressing the village in this matter, if somewhat indirectly, not you. If you wish to know where I slept on board, you should ask me a direct question. Juvenile snickering over the billiard balls is not the way to enlightenment." She gave them a nod and left them, not supposing they would indeed dare to ask her.
Their visitors came in early January. They had sent a letter to announce their visit, for they did not want to be so impolite as to arrive without warning. A woman in her thirties and an elderly man were shown into the room -- Mr. Henson and Mrs. Williamson, announced in the wrong order, for the lady led the way.
Julia was studying their visitors to see if they resembled the admiral at all and for a moment she forgot that Mrs. Williamson and her father were not acquainted with either of them. The ladies curtseyed, but neither spoke. Clementine left it to Julia and Julia left it to her.
Julia saw an elderly gentleman and a lady who was perhaps a little younger than she was. They looked a little awed by their surroundings, but this drawing room and its occupants should soon put them at ease. It was not at all grand and ostentatious and the ladies in it did not look any more refined than they were, Julia thought.
Mrs. Williamson, for her part, saw two ladies and a little girl and she was at a loss how to address them. She clearly did not know which of the two was Julia, but her eyes flickered from one to the other in turn.
"Elizabeth," said the elderly man with a nudge, but it had no effect. He had to ask it himself. "Now which of you ladies is Lady Julia?" he inquired. He had come to see Lady Julia, his new daughter-in-law, and all this stalling did not suit him.
"I am Julia." Little Julia stepped forward.
He peered at her over his spectacles, intrigued by her impertinence. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, but I do not think you married my son."
"Yes!" said the little minx with a saucy look.
"Julia!" Clementine said warningly.
The elder Julia was still tongue-tied and she could do nothing but listen. She wondered why the admiral's father did not know who they were and she tried to imagine what they had been told upon their arrival. Suppose the footman had told them he would take them to Her Grace and Lady Julia? Then it might indeed be a little confusing. That had never occurred to her.
"Please sit down. I shall take my daughter away," Clementine said when Julia did not speak.
"No!" Little Julia threw herself onto the floor and started screaming. She loved visitors and she wanted to take part in every conversation. A removal was unacceptable and she intended to make her feelings on that matter very clear.
"Julia!" Clementine tried to lift her up.
Julia knew what would happen. Clementine would relent and allow the girl to stay, because only then would she stop screaming. They had to be firm with her. It was difficult, especially when little Julia escaped from her mother's grasp and ran towards her grandmother, sending a smug glance back to Clementine to indicate she was now safe.
"Gramma! Lift me!" little Julia ordered, trying to climb onto her grandmother's knees.
"Well, at least she will be quiet now if she sits with you," Clementine said in relief. She made no further move to interfere.
But little Julia was still here and she would think screaming worked at all times. Julia shook her head and carried little Julia towards the door. Of course the wailing recommenced as soon as the girl divined her intentions, but she was not going to turn back, not this time. She deposited the little girl outside the room and closed the door.
Clementine was gaping, as if she did not hear that small fists and feet were now attacking the door in fury. Then suddenly she blushed. "I am so sorry," she apologised to their visitors. "She -- I shall take her away properly," she said with a bashful glance at Julia.
Julia gave her an uncertain smile. She did not want Clementine to think she was angry with her, because she was not, but this was not the moment to discuss little Julia's temperamental fits. She gave her visitors another uncertain smile when Clementine was gone. They were still looking confused and she did not know how to start enlightening them. She could say she was Lady Julia, but for some reason it was impossible to start with such an abrupt comment. She did not trust her conversational skills well enough to hope for something less than abrupt. It made her even more nervous that she had been remiss so far.
"Well..." old Mr. Henson began. "We came to see a Lady Julia who has a niece. We were told Lady Julia was with the duchess. We found three young ladies, of whom the most unlikely party announced she was Julia and the others are her mother and grandmother. Lady Julia cannot have a niece, nor can she write letters or even marry my son. And you must be the duchess, yet the other young lady cannot be another Lady Julia. I do not even see how she can be your daughter, for you are the same age."
Julia had been listening to him attentively, but his last words made her open her eyes very wide in surprise. The same age! His spectacles were obviously useless -- but there was no doubt that this was John's father. They were making the same kind of observations.
"Did I say something odd?" he wondered. "You must excuse me. I have never seen a duchess before. And now you smile. Is it very odd never to have met a duchess?"
She smiled indeed. She could not help it and she cried too. It was not proper crying, but merely a sudden burst of emotion and it would soon go away.
"Elizabeth?" said Mr. Henson with an uncomfortable look. "And now she cries. Have I offended the duchess?"
"Go walk in the park, Father," said Mrs. Williamson. "I shall call you back inside when I know everything."
He looked surprisingly relieved at that gentle order and left the room. Crying ladies were not his favourite type of company.
"I am not a duchess anymore," Julia said, speaking up for the first time. She wondered why it was so difficult to tell these people she was the one who had married their son and brother.
"Anymore! That explains our confusion," Mrs. Williamson replied with a smile. "You look more like one than your daughter does."
"She is my niece." Julia saw what else could be confusing. Little Julia had called her Gramma. "And my granddaughter is her daughter. It may be a little complicated at first."
It did not seem to matter to Mrs. Williamson, who merely looked glad to have found the person she had come to see. "You must forgive us, Lady Julia. We did not know what to expect, other than someone between twenty and forty."
"Forty," Julia repeated with a gasp. Had they seriously not reckoned with anyone older than that? Why not? "But I am long past forty. What would he do with a girl of twenty?"
"Honestly," said Mrs. Williamson, who had looked a little astonished upon hearing her brother's new wife was long past forty. "I have no idea. Men are silly that way."
"But he is your brother."
"Which is precisely why I hoped you were not a twenty-year old beauty."
Julia wondered if his first wife had been like that when he had married, but she dared not ask. "And are you relieved to find me so much older?" she asked a little timidly. "Or did you first think it was Clementine?" She hoped it had not been a disappointment to Mrs. Williamson that she was the wife.
"Perhaps I would have, if she had not had a child. I happen to know John would never take such a small child to sea and he would never take the mother away from the child, you see, so it could not be her. And you are not too old, but old enough! You know the difference between a woman of sense and a silly girl."
"I am no woman of sense!" Julia protested. She did not deserve that description. "If you knew how it all occurred..."
"Yes, do tell how you managed to catch him," said the admiral's sister eagerly.
"I did not mean I -- I am not very good at this." She cast down her eyes, wondering why she could reprimand the boys for gossiping, but not hold a decent conversation. "I am sorry. I should have introduced myself properly in the beginning, but it did not occur to me that you might be confused and then little Julia made it all worse."
"A very helpful little lady, she is, and who could blame her? My father asked who Julia was and she knows her own name, so what could she do but speak up?" Mrs. Williamson said in an indulgent tone.
"But I should have done so."
"Then perhaps we should say that John should have done so, but he did not. He has no idea how much I look up to him," Mrs. Williamson revealed with a hint of sadness. "Big brothers. They do not always realise such things, especially if their lives take place in such different worlds. It probably did not occur to him at all that I might be very interested in his happiness."
Julia lowered her eyes again, pitying the younger sister. She could not make her feel better by saying John was aware of her interest and admiration, because in that case he ought to have mentioned his sister to his wife and he had not. But she knew how it felt, such insignificance and unimportance. "I have felt the same with regard to other people. I am sorry. But he -- have you ever told him?"
Mrs. Williamson shook her head. "Wishing him happiness or even making inquiries implies -- too many things that a younger sister has no right to criticise."
His first marriage, Julia supposed. She thought of her own. In the same manner one could point out many things that she should have done differently with regard to her first husband and her son. Sometimes she did that herself, but invariably she felt there was no point. They were gone and she could not change the past. "The future counts."
"I am very, very glad that you were so considerate as to tell me. Not everybody would. Did you also tell the ... er ... my niece?" She did not speak that word with any affection, on the contrary.
Julia shook her head. She bit her lip thoughtfully. "It was my understanding that he never wants to see her again."
"He did it," Mrs. Williamson said in awe.
"Perhaps he was only waiting for a good reason." It had to be so, if it had apparently been in the air.
"Her not being his should have been good enough," his sister declared. "But that is another thing a younger sister cannot say. I think you must know, though, as his wife, even if he may not have told you."
"Do you think there cannot be any affection or love between a man and a child that is not his?" Julia asked in concern, thinking of her granddaughter. Then she realised it could apply to herself as well. "Or between a woman and a child that is not hers?"
"I suppose there could be, but in this case there was not."
"I believe he may have adopted my nephew and my niece, to have relatives of his own choosing." As she spoke, she wondered if that was insensitive towards his sister. "Children, I mean."
Mrs. Williamson stared at the door, as if Clementine could be seen there. "Surely the age difference is a little too small?"
"Had he lived, my son would have been twenty-seven," Julia replied. She was beginning to speak with more ease. "Although I grant you that it is less likely for men to have children at a young age. But seriously, I see a clear difference in maturity between my husband on the one hand and my nephew and his steward on the other hand. Perhaps he does lack a few years for it to be really possible, but as far as behaviour goes..." For the sake of convenience she ignored what she had said to him about his naval battle game.
The admiral's sister looked quite impressed with all the information that had been imparted. "I am sorry to hear about your son."
Julia nodded in acknowledgement. "I first thought I was all alone when he passed away, but I did not have any relatives until he died."
"And now you have some more. I should call Father back in now that I have solved the mystery. He too will want to hear all the particulars."
"Which particulars?" Julia exclaimed in fear, feeling a revealing warmth spreading across her cheeks. "Not particulars?"
"The restoration of his faith in womankind," Mrs. Williamson clarified. "Particulars might seem very particular, but they rarely are. Would you excuse me for a moment while I look for Father?"
Julia accompanied her to the door. "I will come."
Fortunately they did not have to go far, because at the far end of the hall they perceived Mr. Henson speaking to Julian. "That is my nephew!" said Julia. "Now your father will probably know everything already."
It turned out that was not entirely the case. "Why now!" Mr. Henson said when they approached. "Are you certain?" he asked of Julian, scrutinising Julia very closely.
She felt uncomfortable and looked at her nephew, but he did not have the good sense to tell her what was happening.
"Well!" the admiral's father said eventually, kissing her on the cheek. "So you caught my son! Was it difficult?"
Julia froze at that unexpected gesture and she gave him a frightened stare. Then she recovered -- her wit, but perhaps not her common sense -- when something occurred to her. "How could you ask? He is your son. He kissed me too."
© 2005, 2006 Copyright held by the author.