Trying Patience
Chapter Forty-One
Mr. Newman did not move. He continued to stare at her as if she was very strange and about to do something dangerous.
"Whether you stay or not, I am going," Julia informed him. She had first wanted to wait until he left, but he did not appear to be going.
"I cannot let you. A lady in your position!"
"Mr. Newman, may I remind you that my position is now nothing but an admiral's wife and as such this is perfectly acceptable." Or so she assumed. It would not do to be doubtful now, however. Showing doubts made one vulnerable to attacks. "Besides, if I could come here I could also go back."
"I will row you." He sat down beside her.
"Preposterous." Julia set her feet in the boat. "You will not. I have been to sea and you have not. I can row." She had been rowed ashore and she had watched. That was all, but he needed not know that. He would surely say she could not have picked up the skill that way.
"But I do not think..."
"Quite right, do not think." Being patient and polite would not work if she was vexed with having to be reticent. She pushed herself off the pier and sat in the boat, with much more confidence and grace in her movements than her first time in this little boat. After having been on such a large ship in a storm -- admittedly in the arms of her husband all the while -- the rocking here was insignificant.
"Do you not think there is something that prevents you?" His eyes tentatively travelled downwards.
Julia did not think he could see anything anymore now that she was hunched over the oars. He might have seen something when she had leant back. She had known he might and she had not missed the movement of his eyes now. Still, she was inclined to deny it. "No."
"Then will you take me along in the boat? You may row."
She was not happy about his insistence, but she allowed him to get in. She would take him to Thomas. It was more difficult to row upstream, especially with someone else in the boat. She had been floating along gently downstream, but despite the slowness of the current she had to work much harder now.
"I am surprised," said Mr. Newman. "You can row."
She smiled, although she knew her efforts were very poor indeed. John and Julian had gone much faster with their powerful strokes. She occasionally missed one and their progress was far from straight. "It is my first time."
"You are doing very well," he praised. "What a difference with when you had just come back! Do you remember you had to lean heavily on my arm? And now you are strong enough to row a boat with two passengers."
"One passenger. I gained strength since then," Julia said curtly. She did not want to be flattered into revealing anything.
"Two. You must tell Dr Burke about your methods when you see him next. He might want to share them with women who consult him." Mr. Newman wore his peculiarly innocent smile.
When she saw Dr Burke next, he said, but she had no plans to see him at all. "You employ very underhand methods, Mr. Newman."
"Is there a reason why you have not made it public?"
She did not yet bite. He might still merely be guessing, after all. "My methods are very public. I eat, I walk and now I row."
"But you do not talk."
"No, I do not talk. That cannot be news to you. There is Thomas." She wanted him to keep an eye on his son. Thomas would not see any danger, but she did. Little Julia had jumped in once, but Julian had been there to save her.
"You have not seen Dr Burke," Mr. Newman said, his eyes on the riverbank.
Julia wondered how he knew. Did Dr Burke always tell Mr. Newman who had consulted him? "No."
"Come aboard, Thomas," he told his son, instead of stepping out of the boat himself. Then he turned to Julia. "You must have him see you."
"I think not." She thought of the consequences, of everything she would need to tell. It was much like before their marriage, when she had also not wanted to tell anybody anything. This distracted her enough not to protest against the fact that he was inviting Thomas into the boat as well. "I would rather not."
"Newly married. It was to be expected. Would anyone be surprised?" He held a hand out to his son and let him jump on board. Thomas did not often get the chance and he was all enthusiasm.
"My age. My position." She kept a wary eye on the fishnet. It was dripping. It might drip onto her.
"Now nothing but an admiral's wife."
Julia had said that herself, so she groaned lightly. She rowed away instead of answering or even asking how being an admiral's wife made it more understandable.
"Remember what may happen," he said.
She knew he must be referring to Thomas' mother. She could say she did not plan to die, but his first wife could never have had such a plan either. Perhaps he meant to say she should not be reckless, but she was not. There was nothing she could say.
"Or are you soon leaving for town again?"
"No," she said slowly, considering the option of escaping once again. She would be all alone in town and she had grown too used to company to like that. "No. I have family here."
"Who do not know."
"They did not need to know about my fantasy," Julia answered, sounding indulgent towards herself.
"More than a fantasy, surely." Mr. Newman raised his eyebrows. "If they saw you lean back..."
Julia decided that the dinner table was the best opportunity to inform them before they would hear of Dr Burke visiting. Then, when she was at dinner, she postponed it until after dinner because there were servants about. "Did you know who else is expecting a child?" she asked when they had retired to the drawing room.
"No, who?" Clementine asked languidly and Julian did not even display any interest in hearing who it was.
Perhaps they were fooling her again and they had known all along. "Do you really have no idea?"
Something in her tone made them look up with more interest. "No, should we?" Clementine wondered.
"I should think so," Julia said decidedly. "I hope so, at least, but it seems you have not been paying close attention to her anymore."
"To whom?" Clementine looked afraid of having slighted somebody now that she was a duchess.
"Oh, not to you?" Julian cried incredulously, sitting up straight. "Is that why you grew so fat? I thought you had simply been eating a lot."
"Julian," Julia said in dismay. She did not like hearing he had noticed she had grown so fat, even if it might come to be true in certain places. It was still almost invisible.
"You, Aunt Julia?" Clementine's eyes bulged. "You?"
"That admiral!" Julian said with a chuckle. "I never would have guessed it of him!"
Julia rested her face in her hands. "I was so afraid of this," she mumbled. Soon he would ask about the hammock. She would throw something at his head if he did -- or she would say she had that urge, because of course she was not truly so unmannered.
Clementine came to sit by her and laid an arm around her. "Do not mind him. Is it really true?"
"I think so."
"That is wonderful! I am delighted to hear it. But how long have you known? Why did you not tell us?" Clementine asked after she had kissed her aunt.
There were several reasons for that and she could not sum them all up at once. "Unfortunately I had been privy to the complaints of Lady Pritchard, but until someone in town drew the right conclusion in my presence, I thought we must be suffering from similar things. Besides --"
"Surely Lady Pritchard is too old!"
"Precisely. It is old age that settles on her waist."
Clementine looked doubtful. "Did you think that was it? Old age?"
"What else could I think?" Julia said with a shrug. "If she said she has had these complaints for years and I am but a few years younger than Lady Pritchard?"
"But you began to look younger rather than older after having had the pleasure of a new husband. Did you not know?"
"Who is here to compliment me on my looks now that my husband is not? You have just heard how complimentary my nephew is. Fat!" An overly complimentary Julian would not be Julian, so she did not really want anything else, but she could not help but remark on it with some degree of self-pity and to give him a half-hearted glare for his chuckling.
"True," her niece agreed. "But you have improved so much in temper and also in looks -- too gradually for us to realise, I suppose."
"Why then does Julian chuckle as if this is the oddest development on earth?" She strongly suspected him of having thoughts of hammocks.
"Perhaps because you are still his aunt and as such you belong to a different generation. That you could be in the same boat, so to speak, is..." Clementine looked at her husband, who was still grinning. "Julian! What is amusing you?"
"Nothing, my dear." He made an effort to be serious. "My congratulations. I am very happy for you. Seriously. When will you have Julia's aunt or uncle, Aunt Julia?"
"I do not know. In the summer. July," she added grudgingly, fearing they would instantly calculate back. Perhaps they would not even need to. She knew how they had come to their own date and she had followed the same reasoning in private. "Like you."
"Wonderful! They will be twins of sorts."
Chapter Forty-Two
Admiral Henson was so eager to hurry home that he cursed the relatively short distance from the port to Muncester. Anything would have been too far today. Someone had delivered a pile of letters as soon as his ship had come in. There was such a pile of them that they must have been delivered almost every week and thus so fresh in the memory of Mr. Happle as to remind him instantly. He had forgotten to pay much attention to who had brought them to him now, but he had simply dropped some coins in a hand.
He browsed through them, but especially the last ones all seemed to start out in the same manner: he must go to Muncester the second he returned. It was flattering that his dear wife was so anxious to see him and that she wrote so often about missing him.
He read all the letters several times as the carriage rolled along the roads. He had suffered the same agonies while he was away, not knowing whether he would return, not knowing whether she would still be there or still be in love with him. Apart from that one time when he had managed to retrieve her letter, there had been no other opportunity. She had written so many to him and received only one.
Her last letter was dated a little over a week ago. This meant she was still alive and still yearning for his return. He hoped she would know he had only had the opportunity once. He had not even been able to respond to her letter and he could not have done like Julia and sent them to a port. Julian must have told her about that possibility.
Julia had been well when he had read her first letter and her last letter did not say that had changed. There was no mention of physical discomforts anywhere. He was glad for that. She had indeed been cured by going ashore.
The remainder of his voyage had been so lonely because he knew what he could have had. Julia had underestimated the extent to which she could provide good company even in her nauseous state.
It was a nuisance that the horses needed to be rested and fed halfway. He had orders not to waste a second, after all, and these were orders he had to obey. At long last, when the stop was inevitably going to be of a normal duration, he entered the establishment to have something to eat. Since he had not bothered to change out of his uniform, he still looked rather impressive and he was instantly shown into a room where the wealthier travellers could sit in peace. It was occupied by a freakishly foppish gentleman who gave him a polite bow.
The gentleman, after curiously having observed the splendour of an admiral's uniform for a while, ventured a question. "Are you a sailor, sir?"
Admiral Henson, who had taken out Julia's letters to read them once more, gave him an astonished look. "Where is your minder, young man?" Evidently, although he looked fairly normal, this person had to be mentally incompetent. He had all the knowledge of a sheltered child and the fashion sense of an idiot. It was very likely that he was not alone.
"My minder? Do I require a minder, sir?" His voice rose a little in indignation.
"I am sure there are many things you can do on your own," the admiral said soothingly. He did not want to insult this man for being born with a defect. He could be very patient with the likes of a child. "Are you making a tour of the countryside?"
"I am on my way to visit my sister. But are you a sailor? Are you going to sea?" The fop looked excited.
The admiral put the letters back into his pocket. He might receive too many questions to read. "I have just come ashore."
"I did not know they had men like you at sea."
"I did not know they had men like you ashore either," the admiral replied. It was indeed a new experience and it confirmed his opinion of the understanding of men of fashion.
The fop was still eyeing him with curiosity. "My sister is married to a sailor, but he is a rough, unrefined, burly man who hangs about in obscure taverns drinking and fighting all day, with her name tattooed on his arm."
"I am sorry to hear that," the admiral said sympathetically.
"Why could she not have chosen a man in a uniform like yours?"
"There are fewer of my kind than of the kind you just described," he said with a shrug. Perhaps the sister had not met one. It did not mean hers was bad. He would not judge a sailor by his appearance. Fops yes, but not sailors. "But if he has her name on his arm, he is at least constant and devoted, do you not think?"
"Do you have a tattoo, sir?"
"No, I do not appreciate such a disfiguration."
"How could my sister?" the gentleman asked in despair. "I am an earl and she goes off to marry this ... this ... sailor!"
Ah. He was not mentally deficient, he was an earl. The admiral understood it now. "But if the sailor had had a pretty uniform, you would have approved?"
"Yes, that makes it all different." The earl brightened at some thought. "But I have never seen him. Do you suppose he might have a pretty uniform after all? I have only my sister's word for his appearance."
"Has she been known to lie?" Why would one make a husband seem less than he was?
"Perhaps to vex me, since I think I was vexing her by being shocked."
"So in fact the description was all your sister's doing? Does your sister know your opinion of the man would depend entirely on his uniform and not his character?" An earl's sister was more likely to be married to a man with a decent uniform, but if there was such amusement to be had from lying about it, he could well understand her lying in this case.
"I suppose so," said the earl, looking reflective. Perhaps he was examining his own character and judgement.
"Then he probably does have a pretty uniform. It sounds as if you were completely taken in by your sister." The admiral judged him to be thirty at least. It was a trifle old to be thus fooled.
"Would you truly think so? About the uniform? In the past months I have tried to reconcile myself to the idea of my sister with a lowly sailor, to put aside my prejudice and arrogance, but I could not do it. I confess I could not. I have even tried to imagine myself marrying a scullery maid, but I could not. She might be the sweetest girl in the world, but we would have nothing in common. I am ready to face my sister to tell her so. I am not all bad, because I met the sweetest governess, but --" the earl shrugged. "If her husband could be the naval equivalent of a governess, I should feel much happier."
Admiral Henson considered the younger man's plight. It must indeed be quite worrisome for an earl to have a sister marry so far beneath her station, whether it had truly happened or not. An earl's sister who had married a sailor -- it sounded very much like a sailor who had married an earl's sister. "You have an intriguing sister, My Lord."
"You must think she is a silly twenty-year old, but it is worse than that too."
"Oh?" He was beginning to find some enjoyment in this forced stop. He believed he had happened upon Julia's brother, despite the fact that he had never known such a man existed. The story matched, as did their silly habit of fearfully clinging to the worst interpretation only, disregarding anything else.
"It is my eldest sister. One does not reveal a lady's age usually, but she is in her mid forties."
"Those are the worst," the admiral agreed with twinkling eyes.
"Utter madness." The earl shook his head. "Why marry? Why marry at her age? Why marry a sailor? I mean no offence, sir. I am sure I have no reason to pity your wife. Pray which rank do you have?"
The admiral suppressed his desire to laugh. "I am an admiral, of which there are several varieties that I shall not bore you with. Admiral will do."
"Admiral, my apologies for my questions. I do wish my sister well, you see. She has lost much before."
"And now you think she has lost her mind as well?"
"She did not give me that impression, far from it, but..." The earl sighed. "Perhaps I lost it."
At sea, Admiral Henson had realised he had relatives who knew nothing of his marriage and he was determined to inform them as soon as he was able, an intention of which he was reminded now. It had apparently also occurred to Julia that she had a brother. He wondered how it had taken place. It must have been quite an occasion. "But if you have never seen this...sailor, how were you informed of their marriage?"
"In a pastry shop in London. I saw my sister there by accident. The sailor was not with her, obviously."
"Obviously," the admiral agreed. The sailor had been at sea. "Then you burst into..." Laughter or anger?
"Actually I burst out of the shop," the earl revealed. "Because she said she was not proud of the connection and because she believed the girls in my party were opera singers. I called at her house later to finish the conversation."
"At her house? Or her husband's?" Surely if the man had called at the house where he had stayed with Julia, he would know whose house that was, or would he think that the lowliest sailor could afford to live there? Perhaps an earl did not have any notion of such matters.
"Hers. She was there. It did not even occur to me to go elsewhere," he said sheepishly.
"Does the husband not have a house?" The admiral knew the husband did, but why had it not been used? Was she more at ease in her own? He could not fault her for that.
"Well, he might, but that was not where she was."
Where she had stayed was relatively irrelevant. "But please continue. You finished the conversation when you called."
The earl leant forward. "Which was really difficult, because she called me stupid and selfish and I suppose I was. I thought she was rebelling against dead people, but she wanted me to follow her good example, but I said I could not do so until I saw the man with my own eyes."
"And now you are headed to their house to see him. When did you meet your sister? Was this recently?" She had evidently already travelled back to Muncester.
"Back in the winter. February or so."
The admiral's eyes opened wide. "It is now June! What took you so long?"
"I was not very keen on meeting him in the flesh, because he sounded horrid," the earl revealed. "Besides, he was at sea and I do not even know if he is back yet, but she said summer. It is summer now."
"Tomorrow!" He had come back sooner than he had promised, to spare her any disappointments if he was delayed, but this man here could not have known that.
"Or thereabouts." It did not bother the earl. "I am to treat her respectfully in his presence and then he will be as meek as a lamb, she said. Let me tell you, I am worried that his appearance might somehow make me lose my composure and that I might somehow make an inadvertent comment about her taste and he will whack me senseless."
"Are you loose-lipped as a rule?"
"Yes, I would say I am."
There was at least some degree of self-knowledge. "So if you press those lips closely together you might escape that beating. Do you think he cares about her enough to beat you?"
"She implied he did and I never heard her imply such a thing about her first husband."
Admiral Henson was sorry that he was informed at that point that the horses had been changed and that they could continue their trip. He took his leave of the earl and wished him luck with his troublesome sister. They would presumably meet again at Muncester, but he was glad he would arrive there first. He did not want Julia to be distracted. If her brother appeared there indeed he could always have another conversation with him.
Chapter Forty-Three
Tired but unharmed, the admiral presented himself at the duke's residence at the end of his travelling day. "My wife?" he asked, not hearing whatever the footman said to him. It was not about Julia and he was only interested in one person.
"Lady Julia is in her rooms," said the housekeeper, who had hurried nearer. She said some more, presumably words of welcome, but he did not hear her either.
Since he had no reason to think Julia would be in the bedroom at this time of the day, he had started with the dressing room. Julia was not there, but something else caught his attention before he could look further.
For some odd reason there was a cradle in the dressing room, a proper cradle with all the draperies that came with it. He was tall enough to be able to look straight into it and he saw something blue amidst the white. Upon closer inspection it was a doll with a blue coat. To be precise, it was a doll that looked like Clementine wearing an admiral's coat. It was very strange indeed. Why would Julia have this in her room? Since he could not imagine she had regressed to childhood, he assumed it was little Julia's.
Apparently the little girl was still allowed to visit these apartments, but he did not really understand why the doll, although it was obviously respected, should have to be placed in this dressing room and not in a room of its own, given how many rooms there were in this house. Julia and Julia evidently had an amusing game that would explain it all.
The doll appealed to him, though, and he picked it up. Someone had taken a great deal of care to make the coat. It was like his, but on a smaller scale. It had fewer buttons, but that was no surprise. He studied the doll more closely. It was the one he had bought for little Julia in town and he had always thought it was a girl because it had worn a dress in the shop. Now it was a boy, an admiral, yet its hair had not been cut. It would have been much easier to make it look like Clementine than like him if one wanted to keep the hair intact. He shook his head at the girl playing admiral. It was not for girls.
Perhaps the doll should look like him because Julia missed him. If she had gone to such lengths to find a replacement, why had she put him in a cradle and not in her bed? People had to know about the cradle now and think her silly, whereas they might never have found out about a doll in her bed. He was thoroughly puzzled, if flattered.
He still had not found Julia. If she was not in this room, she would be in the next, but he did not call out. He opened the door quietly.
The sight of Julia in her bed made him approach her in fear. Was something amiss? Had she not recovered at all? But as he came closer, he saw that she was merely asleep and he took her hand. This minimal touch did not satisfy him, so quietly he took off his shoes, coat and waistcoat and lay down besides her, trying not to disturb her. He did not want to wake her if she needed her rest during the day for some reason, but he could not stay away. It was quite impossible to stand or sit beside the bed.
She looked very beautiful, asleep, but a little different. He did not know what accounted for that impression. Faces always looked different in sleep, he supposed. Although she had often lain in bed at sea, she had always been awake when it had been light enough to see her face. Perhaps it was merely that the hollowness and paleness had disappeared because she was healthy again.
Julia rolled over onto her side, facing away from him. She still did not wake, not even when he touched her gently, unable to control himself. He did not want to disturb her sleep, but he desperately longed to make his presence known so that he could hold her.
His hand wandered when it took too long, from her hair, over her shoulder and down to her waist. It felt odd there. "What is this?" he exclaimed, feeling around some more. This was very odd. What had happened to his wife? It felt very much like a potbelly, firm and round, nothing like the usual softness he had encountered on the rare occasion that he had had to lay a hand on a larger woman's waist.
His exclamation woke her. "John?" she asked sleepily even before she turned her head. She knew it could not be anyone else, although she had not expected him yet. There was a little gasp as she realised he had really come back. "John! Where did you come from? What are you doing in my bed?"
"I am married to you. You sent me a letter a week ago, telling me to come home," he said, attempting to turn her over, but that proved difficult. There was little conversation for a while as they saw to other matters. "Julia..." he said when his first desires to hold and kiss her had been satisfied. He could still feel her altered shape. "You feel odd."
"Do I?" she said with a little laugh, as if she knew perfectly well what he meant.
He touched her stomach, gingerly because he did not want to offend. She should not think he did not still love her. "What happened? You are so large. Not too much so, but so much more than before! This takes a man years."
"It took you but a few minutes, my dear."
"Me?" He felt his stomach, but there was still nothing there. Why was she amused?
She made sure he was looking her in the eyes before she spoke. His confusion was apparent and she needed a moment to take it in. He was no wiser than she had been and her eyes softened. "This is our baby," she said, placing her hand over his on her stomach.
"I do not understand. I thought the doll was your baby. I saw a doll in a cradle." He hoped she had not truly lost her mind. It had been little Julia's doll. That ought to be all, a game with the little girl.
"That is John the doll. He is only playing my baby until I have the real one."
He wondered if she had somehow suffered in his absence. John the doll, playing her baby. It made him throw back the covers and reach for the hem of her nightgown, so that he could ascertain what was the matter. Was she like a little girl, lost in her own imaginary world, or should he take her literally? She sounded so deceptively sensible and happy.
"You are just like little Julia," she observed. "Wanting to look under my clothes instantly. But do not leave me so exposed, my dear. The covers. Pull them up a little bit."
He obeyed almost without thinking, only looking at the bare skin of her stomach. There was nothing else under the nightgown, no bulging stays to create an artificial rounding. "It is real," he observed in wonder. While it reassured him to find she was not delusional, he was still puzzled.
"Yes, it is."
"But..." Women really only looked like this for one reason, but that reason could not be applicable to Julia.
"You will be a father." She took his hand and placed it on her stomach again. "Perhaps Frederick will kick you now to welcome you home."
He could hear her clearly, but not all of her words made sense. "Frederick?"
"Unless you disapprove and unless it is a girl, but I have been addressing him as Frederick all this time." She frowned a little, afraid he would want another name when she had grown so used to this one.
He gasped. "It moved!" He was now utterly fascinated.
"It!" Julia cried, but she was laughing. "Frederick is not an it!"
"Frederick? My father's name is Frederick," the admiral said absentmindedly.
She felt as if he did not notice her anymore, such was his fascination with her abdomen and the life therein. It was touching and disconcerting at once. "John?"
"Hmmm?" He was trying to discover where the next kick would come so that he would feel it under his hand. This was marvellous. It was amazing that Julia could lie there so calmly with that miraculous body, as if she did not feel a thing of what was inside. "Does it not hurt you?"
"Did you hear me say you would be a father?"
"Yes. But..." He finally tore his eyes away from her stomach. "How could that be? You said we would have grandchildren."
"Well, we will have those too. Clementine looks much like me at the moment." Julia pulled her nightgown back down to be less exposed. "I never knew I could still do it. It never even occurred to me to wonder. Did it to you? What do you think of it now?" she asked anxiously. "You married me for the fun and not for the heirs. We shall have another life than you had envisaged." He would not have her all to himself. There would be sharing.
He lay down again and closed his eyes. It dazzled him. "I never even imagined I could find you like this."
"But what do you think?" Julia pressed.
"Think!" he exclaimed. "I am not very capable of that at the moment. Allow me a moment to recover." He took her hand so she would not feel forgotten and tried to start at the beginning. Julia. Fat. Frederick. Baby. Father.
She moved closer to him. "But I want you to be happy." She thought he was, despite being so stunned.
"I think I might be," he said cautiously. "But the contrast with all these months without you is simply too great. I can only say I have never felt this before. But it is a good feeling. Come to me."
It was not until a good while later that Julia stirred. She had obtained many reassurances from her husband by now. He was as delighted as she had hoped he would be, but also grateful and fascinated, and perhaps frustratingly so, impatient. He had wanted to know when the baby was due, but she had not been able to tell him it was tomorrow or some other day that would not try his patience too much.
It was a pity that they probably ought to break up their loving embrace to go downstairs, but she was hungry. "Can you see what time it is?"
There was only a grunt in response.
She nudged him. "Wake up. What time is it?"
The admiral pushed himself up so he could see the clock. Then he kissed her again. "Dinner in five minutes, if I am not mistaken about the time you dine here. Must I?" He did not want to leave her.
"I suppose we must. I am hungry."
"Are you coming?" That surprised him. He did not know what ladies did in this state. He had never come across any in public who had said they were very close to having a child and so he assumed they would all be confined to bed.
Julia had just declared herself hungry, so of course she was coming -- and why did he think she would let him go alone? She could not. "If you will release me so I can dress."
"Are you not supposed to stay in bed?"
"No." She was not an invalid and even if she had been, she would ask to be carried. She did not want to let him out of her sight.
"No?" He was still surprised. "I thought -- but that changes things. I did not want to leave you alone. I did not know you could leave the bed."
Julia coughed. "If I can cuddle I can most certainly also get out of bed, but that will go easier if you assist me with that and my clothes. I am well. I am only, as Julian calls it, fat."
"Fat!" he uttered in protest.
"You called it large -- and odd," she chuckled.
"But I am your husband."
"And a lovely husband you are," she said when he helped her out of bed. "I forgive you. It would have been very odd if you had not noticed at all!"
Julia stopped her husband just outside the dining room. They could hear that everybody was already in the room and that the meal had begun. Now that they were already late, it would not matter to delay their entrance by a little more. She had just been reminded of something she had not yet told him. It was likely that in the past months more things had happened, but they would occur to her later. "We have guests," she said softly. "You may be surprised to see some of them."
"Oh?"
"You have not yet asked me why I am calling the baby Frederick," she said, standing very close and looking up into his eyes.
"I was occupied," he defended himself, although it had been so inevitable that it required no defence. If anyone could see her now they would certainly understand him. His arms went around her before he could check himself. "With you. But yes, Frederick? I have no objections to Frederick."
"Or Francesca." Julia gave him a sweet smile. He was susceptible, she could tell.
"What?" he exclaimed. "Francesca?"
Her smile grew even sweeter. "Please do not dislike it. I have no alternative."
"It would not do for a boy. How did you choose Frederick? And what does he have to do with your guests?" He glanced at the closed door, behind which a murmur of voices could be heard. He could not make out to whom they belonged. It sounded as if there were more people than merely Julian and Clementine, though. Perhaps the earl had come, but Julia would not yet know that.
She glanced at the door too. "Well, he is here, the original Frederick."
"I am sure there are many of that name, but I suppose you are smiling so because I should know him?"
"You know one."
"Yes, but you do not," he said quickly, thinking of his father. "Not that one." He did not know her brother's name, but he had arrived ahead of her brother and she had not been informed of anybody's arrival since then. He wondered if he should tell her they had met. Not yet, he decided. It would take too long, especially if he wanted to ask why she had sketched such an unfavourable image of him.
"I do now."
"How?" His father?
"I investigated the matter, my darling, since you had forgotten to tell me about them and them about me, and I contacted them." She looked proud.
The admiral was absolutely astonished. He could not speak. His Julia, who did not gladly meet new people, had not only thought that he might have relatives, but she had contacted them, soothing any feathers that might have been ruffled by his negligence.
"They are all here," Julia continued. "I invited them for the birth."
"All?"
"Your father, your sister and her family, and your brother. They all came because they were very curious."
He rested his head on her shoulder. "And you want me to be able to eat now? You are too good, too excellent, Julia, to rectify my mistakes in such a manner. I do not deserve you. And to think someone on the road thought he needed not pity my wife! Would you have a handkerchief for me? I left mine upstairs."
"Yes, use mine. And I am not good. I did it because I could not have you and I hoped they would be like you just a little."
He blew his nose. "Were they?"
"Quite. Your sister especially has given me much useful advice on how to manage Hensons," she smiled. "Never invite guests they do not know, she said, so I did not. I assumed Hensons would be mischievous to them."
"Mischievous? We?" His lip trembled. If he was going to be mischievous to anybody today it was because she had laid the foundation. "We need you then."
"But come in now or they will take the dishes away."
He followed her into the room, where his father, his brother, his sister, his brother-in-law, Julian, Clementine, little Julia and his two nephews were seated. He had never returned to such a large family and he was almost too overcome to speak.
Chapter Forty-Four
The admiral felt himself be embraced by his sister when he had set but two steps into the room. It surprised him a little that she seemed so fond of him that she would cry. Over the years he had seen less of his younger sister than he would have liked and he knew why, although it had not really been within his power to change that. The best he had been able to do was visit without his wife, but there had been arguments whether he took her or not, although in the latter case they had been less severe.
"I am so happy for you!" Elizabeth whispered in his ear. "Finally!"
He could hear she was sincere. His happiness was important to her and he had never known. "I am so sorry," he whispered back. He hoped they would be able to talk later.
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head, as if he did not need to feel sorry for anything. Then she allowed him to greet the others.
The gentlemen were more reserved in their greetings, though they were perhaps just as pleased to see him. Clementine embraced him as well as she was able to -- she was a little larger than Julia, he noted. That must be the grandchild and he offered his congratulations, tactfully refraining from asking whether there were two. He could probably leave such questions to Julian.
Little Julia had been jumping up and down on her chair until he came to her and he lifted her off. "Where have you been?" she cried, so much more enthusiastic than the two shy nephews he had just greeted. They had barely smiled and certainly not spoken.
"Who is this big girl?" he asked. This at least had been a certainty when he had imagined his return. He knew little Julia would be there and that she would be like this, although she talked better now. He was glad for the respite from what felt like perpetual amazement. "I come back to find all young ladies so much altered! Grown taller and larger. I hardly recognise them."
"I am Julia!"
"No!" He feigned disbelief. "Julia was a little thing, about this tall. You are much bigger." She was almost a proper little girl now.
"I grew up," she said proudly. "I can even eat in the dining room. Kiss me."
"Now I recognise you!" he laughed, kissing her cheek.
"You have a pretty coat just like John the doll," she observed when he set her down again.
He thought the reverse might be more true. Contrary to his nephews, who were always daunted by such coats, little Julia seemed excessively fond of them and buttons could not be shiny enough. "Yes, I am sorry. I did not have time to find other clothes for dinner." He had not had the time to investigate where his trunks had been placed.
"Clearly," said his father. "You arrived only two hours ago."
Julia did not care what he thought of that. "I had many things to tell him, would you not agree?" She sat down at the head of the table, which was still free because Clementine, in spite of being the hostess, had been preferring to sit next to her daughter ever since little Julia had been allowed to dine in company.
"And how does the expectant father now feel?" Mr. Henson inquired, but he received only a grin from his son. "I hope you were not doing anything to bring on the birth."
"Of course we were. I know how much you are looking forward to it," Julia replied.
The admiral had not often seen his father silenced. Perhaps Julia had said something scandalous, but at any rate it was quite intriguing. He sat down close to her and laid a hand on her back. "Did it bring on the birth?" he whispered, realising the answer as he spoke.
"Apparently not." The child had not yet announced itself. She smiled.
"I thought Julia told us you would be back towards the end of the summer," said Mr. Henson, interrupting their little tête-à-tête.
"Er..." The familiar use of his wife's name was surprising, although he supposed his father had been here for a while. Still, he had always thought his father preferred to say your wife to avoid given names. "I did not want to disappoint her. I was hoping it would be sooner than that, but I did not want to give a definitive date."
"I hope you did not neglect or abandon your duties to come here," Julia said anxiously. "That is why I did not write about it to you, although I longed so much to share it. I feared you would jump overboard and swim ashore."
He chuckled a little at that image, but perhaps she was more right than he wished. If the news had reached him sooner he did not know what he would have done. Abandoning his duties was perhaps not a serious possibility, but becoming distracted and anxious would have been and his duties might have suffered as a result. He laid his hand over hers to reassure her that she had done right. It had been so much better to discover it in person.
"You must indeed have had much to talk about if you had not yet talked about his surprising arrival," Mr. Henson said with a cackle.
"I have no doubt we can talk even more," Julia said to her husband.
"More has happened to you than to me," he said, still feeling a faint sense of bewilderment. He glanced at his plate and then at the rest of the table. His brother was here, his sister with her family and he wanted to speak to everyone, but he had no idea what to say. Julia, on the other hand, came up with one scandalous rejoinder after the other.
"They are staying for a few days," Julia said softly when she followed his gaze. "Eat. Good, healthy land food. Look how it cured me."
He took some bites of his food, but he hardly knew what he tasted. He ought to pull himself together soon, because that brother of Julia's was still due to appear and if he wished to prolong the fun he must not be so distracted and maudlin. "Were you surprised?" he asked in the general direction of his relatives.
"Yes," said his brother, who was the first to answer. "I came ashore and heard you had been snared. It knocked me out."
"It really did knock him out!" cried his father, who had evidently found much to enjoy in the occasion. "William could not believe it."
"Of course not."
"I really did tell him everything," said Elizabeth, who wished to defend herself.
"I am sure your father painted a different picture of me," Julia commented. "For amusement's sake."
"There are many people who enjoy doing that," said her husband innocently. He did not think she would understand the hint and indeed she did not appear to think it referred to herself. February was a long time ago. She might not even remember what she had told her brother if he had left it so long to contact her again.
"To be sure, his story did differ somewhat from Elizabeth's account," William said with a nod. "Since Father made you out to be a terrible rake, John."
"Oh, thank you," he said dryly. "And thank you, Elizabeth, for saying the opposite. But really, since when do rakes get snared?"
"When they --" William cleared his throat to signify he could not say too much in front of his nephews, but that everyone was free to interpret his words in another manner. "-- find themselves in too deep."
"Who left out the part about my not being aware of that?" the admiral inquired, looking pointedly at his father. This was how it had always been if the three of them were together. He enjoyed it.
"As a physician, John, I find ignorance difficult to accept." Mr. Henson chuckled again.
"I -- no, you do not deserve an answer. When did you know?" he asked Julia. That was another thing they should probably have discussed in those two hours, but the subject had not come up. She had not known about it when she had gone ashore, nor by the time she had written her first letter, he would think. Its tone had been different, less urgent.
"Long after everybody else, it seemed," she said with a dramatic sigh. "Perhaps my obtuseness confused them."
"It most certainly did," said her father-in-law. "I suspected it when we received your first letter, but then you failed to confirm it to Elizabeth, despite being quite frank about other matters. If you were so kind as to tell us you were our new relative, you would also be so kind as to tell us you were expecting, I thought, so when you did not, I concluded you did not yet know."
"Father nearly died of smugness at your second letter," Elizabeth revealed. "All the more so because Lawrence and Gregory are not Hensons and --"
Mr. Henson did not want to be so unkind to his grandsons. "Actually, because they are both boys, yet Julia does not seem to think she can provide me with a granddaughter either."
"I have one," she said smugly. "I thought it would be nice if I had a boy, because John displayed such an interest in toys for them."
"Dear girl, you do not require a son to buy the man toys."
"But the name she has for a girl..." the admiral said doubtfully. He knew she would think he had a problem with it, which was why he teased her. True, Francesca was long and fancy, but she might grow into it. She might take after her mother.
"...is very pretty." Julia laid a hand on his leg. "But you still have time to think of another."
He smiled at her. It might not even be necessary. "I shall find a usable abbreviation. I am better at that than at coming up with full names. By the way, who named that doll John when it looks like Clementine?"
"Julia did, of course," Julia answered.
"She may not name our baby," he said with a stern look at the little girl.
Little Julia giggled in delight. "You buyed one! But why is Gramma still fat?" She stood on her chair again to have a look.
"Sit," said Clementine, grabbing her skirt.
"What am I supposed to have bought?" The admiral looked mystified.
"You were due back in the summer and the baby was due in the summer, so naturally it followed that you were away to buy it," Clementine explained.
"Yes, in the baby shop!" little Julia cried, clapping her hands in excitement.
"But how does it follow that -- well, I always thought that -- but my father will say I never had any knowledge about it whatsoever." He was still mystified. "I had best not comment."
"Lord Granby has arrived to see you, Lady Julia," the butler announced during the next course.
"That is my brother!" Julia cried. She did not know what he could possibly want, except perhaps to see her husband with his own eyes. She had not seen Gerald for months, not since their conversations in town. He could not know the admiral had returned, though. His visit must be a coincidence.
The earl was shown into the room and the number of people assembled took him by surprise. He glanced around to find his sister. "J-J-Julia, you know why I c-c-came." He stuttered in fear.
"Gerald, I suppose so."
"Is he here?" He kept his eyes fixed on her.
"He is."
Gerald glanced around some more and saw familiar and surprising faces. "C-C-Clementine?" But he moved on instantly. He did not appear to have noticed the size of both ladies, for he did not comment on their condition. Then his eyes fell on the uniform that the admiral still had not taken off. "Admiral! How come you are here as well?"
The admiral's mouth twitched. Thankfully the joke was not on him this time, unlike all this talk of babies. He was better able to keep his cool. "Coincidence. I have a wide acquaintance." He was merely seated next to his wife. It was not at all noticeable to someone looking for a sailor. "You should have mentioned your sister's name and we could have travelled together! What took you so long?"
"That is the sister I was talking about," Gerald pointed next to him at Julia. "But I do not see the sailor."
Considering that all younger men were or had been sailors, the admiral especially was amused. He did not betray it, but he looked as serious as Lord Granby would wish.
"I delayed my arrival because of him, but it seems I have some respite from death." Gerald sounded extremely relieved.
"Death?" Julia interrupted.
"As I told the admiral on the road, I am sure that sailor of yours will whack me senseless." He dropped onto a free seat at her end of the table, looking very relieved. His stutter had also disappeared.
"You told the admiral on the road that my sailor will whack you senseless," Julia repeated. She was quite as intrigued and astonished as the rest of the table. "The two of you already met on the road?"
"Yes, I am surprised to find him here now, but of course I never asked him where he was going." He fiddled with his neck cloth. "I fear I rambled on too much about my own plight. If it is not too much to ask of you, I should like to ask one more favour of you, Admiral. I am sure you have your wits about you. You must be used to having such fellows do your bidding. Perhaps you would consent to stand by me when I meet the infamous brother-in-law?"
"Gerald, for goodness' sake, stop being an idiot," Julia told him. She gave her husband an uncomprehending glance. He was looking too wickedly innocent.
"Yes, I am sorry," Gerald said contritely. "If I openly doubt your choice of husband, the sailor will be angry with me. I should treat you respectfully."
"Come on, Gerald," the admiral said cheerfully. "Step out with me. I know where the deuced fellow is hiding. Let us go and whack him senseless."
Gerald hesitated. "Look, I am grateful for the support, but Julia does seem to like him and I should hate to make --"
"Best do it now. Come," the admiral said with an encouraging nod. He stood up. He would take this fellow out of the room and allow him to make his discovery without making too much of a fool of himself.
"Why is he not at the table? Is he more at ease eating with the servants?"
The admiral shot Julia a warning look, in case she felt it necessary to groan or reveal the truth. "Come."
© 2005, 2006 Copyright held by the author.