by Abby Ayles
If he wanted things to be this way, well, so be it. She would not speak to him again. She would not think of him. He could not hurt her like this and get away with it so easily.
Juliana carried on marching across the hall, right the way to the exit. She did not wait or look for her aunt, or for Mary; she simply walked all the way outside, steadily and with the same pace, continued around the side of the building, and only then stopped.
There was a small stone step leading down from an old doorway which was no longer in use. Here, no one could see her. No one was there to watch. Juliana sank down onto it, buried her head in her hands, and cried.
“Did he say something truly awful?”
Juliana was not at all surprised to hear her dear friend’s voice nearby. She nodded without raising her head, and soon felt the warmth of Mary’s body sitting down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders.
“Tell me all about it,” Mary said gently.
Juliana’s shoulders rose and fell as she cried. After a short while, however, she was able to get her breath back a little.
“He accused me of tricking him on purpose,” she said, her words coming scattered between sobs. “He was talking to another girl, and I saw them dancing together. They were laughing and smiling at their own little jokes.”
“I saw her too,” Mary admitted. She paused a second, and then added: “I thought she was nowhere near as pretty as you.”
Juliana coughed out a laugh that was smattered still with tears. “You are a good friend.”
“But I am not a liar,” Mary said. “I truly mean it. What else?”
“He thinks I made Aunt Bertha tell him I wasn’t here so that he would go home, and I would have leave to dance and be courted by other men.”
“That’s preposterous,” Mary said. “Did you tell him it was preposterous?”
“I told him he was wrong,” Juliana said, lifting her head and wiping at her face with her hands. “He wouldn’t listen to me. And he just went after that girl, as soon as he thought I was not here. Oh, it stings!”
“Are you more upset by his words? Or that he was with another?”
Juliana thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said. “Oh, this is all so miserable. I hoped and waited for this. I so wanted to dance with him again. I even lied to the Duke and my mother.”
“Yes, that line about her being strict was quite far from the truth,” Mary chuckled. “I do not believe Mrs. Reffern has even noticed yet that we are gone.”
“She most certainly has,” came a stern voice from the far end of the wall.
Both girls looked up to see Aunt Bertha standing there, silhouetted against the lamps burning to light the entrance to the hall.
“What are you two doing out here?” Aunt Bertha asked, walking closer to them with a frown.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Reffern,” Mary said quickly. “We needed to get out of the hall for a while.”
“We?” Aunt Bertha repeated.
Mary lowered her eyes to the floor only, not wanting to betray her friend’s confidence.
“I,” Juliana admitted, saving her from the dilemma. “I stumbled on the dance and everyone saw me. I forgot the steps. They were all watching.”
Aunt Bertha’s face softened somewhat, though she still tutted. “Silly girl,” she said. “Is that all? You’ve more vanity than sense, you young things.”
“Please, Aunt Bertha,” Juliana said. “I can’t go back in there. Might we go home?”
“Is this what you want too, Lady Mary?” Aunt Bertha asked. “You are our guest as well, after all. But I cannot chaperone both of you if one stays.”
“I am happy to leave, Mrs. Reffern,” Mary said quickly. “Thank you for thinking of me, but I don’t wish to be an inconvenience. Besides, Juliana is my friend. I should stay by her side when she is upset.”
“You are a loyal one,” Aunt Bertha nodded. “Come, then. I’ll call for the coach, and we’ll return home.”
She strode away, off in search of their transport, and Mary helped Juliana to her feet. They both brushed at the fine fabric of their dresses, hoping to dislodge any dirt that might have clung to them from the step.
“Are you going to be alright?” Mary asked her.
“Yes. I suppose I must,” Juliana said.
“Why did you not tell her the truth?”
Juliana hesitated. “They already think so badly of him,” she said.
“Then you love him still,” Mary said. “You have hope that you will be able to mend your differences.”
“I don’t know.”
“You do,” Mary said, with a smile on her lips. “Or you would not seek to spare his reputation.”
“Perhaps,” Juliana said, shrugging and returning a smile on her tear-stained face. She gave a short laugh. “I do not know what kind of laws govern my heart, but they seem to be contrary ones.”
Mary laughed in return, and pulled her friend into a tight embrace for a moment. “Come now,” she said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “Let us get home and to bed. In the morning, things won’t seem quite so bleak.”
Chapter 9
The next morning, indeed, there was a change in the air.
“Ladies,” Aunt Bertha announced over their breakfast meal. “I shall ask you to prepare yourselves to receive guests this evening. We shall be hosting another party.”
Juliana felt a surge of excitement. “Who will it be?” she asked.
“Never you mind that,” Aunt Bertha said, popping a small bite into her mouth and swallowing it whole. “They are to stay with us for some while, so your first impressions ought to be good ones. I expect you done and dressed for dinner in fine gowns tonight, and on time.”
Mary and Juliana both agreed that they would be, and as soon as they were excused, they flocked to the garden to sit on a bench seat there and discuss the mysterious visitors.
“Who do you imagine it could be?” Mary asked. “I do not know if Aunt Bertha is acquainted with anyone… well, important.”
Juliana laughed. “I might be offended at your talk about my aunt,” she said, then shook her head in amusement when Mary actually looked worried. “If I didn’t think you had it absolutely right.”
“I saw the maids preparing two guest rooms,” Mary continued, with a look of relief. “Does it mean two guests, do you think? It could be more. They might be sharing rooms – a husband and wife, or sisters, or so on.”
“And I saw them polishing the best silver yesterday,” Juliana remembered. “It must have been special preparations. They knew it even before we did!”
“Should we ask them who it is?” Mary whispered.
Juliana laughed, lowering her voice the same. “You are so mischievous, Lady Mary! We shall get them into trouble if they tell us, and my aunt wants us not to know.”
“Perhaps they don’t know either,” Mary said. “I wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble. I suppose it’s best not to ask.”
“You’re too much of a kind soul,” Juliana told her. “But come. We must be able to make our own best guesses.”
“Perhaps it is an elderly relative,” Mary suggested, giving a grin that told Juliana all she needed to know.
“You’re so wicked!” Juliana giggled. “How awful that would be! I think it is a visiting duke coming with his eligible sons to find a bride.”
“I thought you did not want for a husband?” Mary asked, with her eyebrows raised.
“Don’t be silly - the sons are for you. You can have your pick of them!”
Mary blushed red at the suggestion, and covered her mouth to laugh. “But what if they are intended for you?”
“Then we shall send them away. Perhaps they will be all the daughters of a local lord, sent here to be our erstwhile companions.”
“Do we want for companions?” Mary asked, pursing her lips as she considered it.
“No, we shall send them away as well,” Juliana declared. “I will tell them I only have need for my
one true friend in the world, and their services are not required.”
“What if they are soldiers, come to protect us from the evils of Bath’s halls?” Mary asked.
Juliana’s eyes shone as she considered the notion. “Perhaps it is Christopher and that friend from his regiment that he always travels with.”
“Do you really think it could be?” Mary asked. “But your aunt…”
“Perhaps he came to beg her after my departure last night,” Juliana rushed on. “After all, it took her so long to notice that we were gone. She’s supposed to watch my every move, as my chaperone. She may not be as strict as we made out, but she is certainly watchful.”
“I think she was just talking and failed to see us leave,” Mary said doubtfully.
“Nonsense! She must have been about to leave when Christopher stopped her. He would have told her he was sorry and wanted the chance to make it up to me. And then he would have given her some eloquent speech to convince her to allow it.”
“But your aunt knows that the Duke and Duchess are against it,” Mary protested again.
“Mary, you are ruining all my fun. Please, listen carefully. I have explained already. Christopher’s speech was so eloquent that she changed her mind, and she knows he will change their minds too.”
“Sorry,” Mary said, having the sense to look bashful.
“The friend will come along both for decency’s sake and perhaps as a match for you, Mary. He’s a lieutenant too, you know. Rivers, I believe.”
Mary twisted her mouth. “Rivers? He is no nobleman.”
“No, but how exciting!” Juliana said. “You may let him court you for a time. It will be practice for the real thing. I bet he will be all rough and uncouth, and say things to you that are most outside the bounds of propriety!”
“Juliana!” Mary said, red to the ends of her ears. “How awful! If he said such things to me, I would scream!”
They laughed, Mary from awkwardness and nerves and Juliana from pleasure at teasing her so. At last, she relented, and put an arm about her friend’s shoulders.
“No, you saved me last night,” she said. “So if this Rivers comes for you, I shall save you in return. That is, if you’re absolutely sure that you want me to.”
Mary nodded emphatically, causing them both to fall into giggles once more.
The day seemed both interminably slow as they waited to find out the answer to their mystery, and so fast that they had not enough time to prepare. Juliana carefully selected a gown for the dinner, and told the maid to spend extra time on her hair so that she should look as beautiful as possible for the visitors.
If it was Christopher, after all, she could not risk him seeing her looking less than her best. Particularly as he was to come to grovel for her forgiveness.
Her disappointment was almost entirely unmatched when they came down to the dinner table, having heard much opening and closing of doors throughout the household, to find only an old woman and a man she did not recognize.
“Lady Juliana Reffern and Lady Mary Westenholme,” Aunt Bertha announced with some delight. “My charges, while they are here in Bath.”
Mary and Juliana both dipped into curtsies, though neither of them could hide the confusion or uncertainty on their faces.
“And, ladies, allow me to introduce you to our guests,” Aunt Bertha continued, undeterred. “This is the Lady Ascot, and her son Mr. John Woode, who I believe is a cousin of yours, Lady Juliana.”
“A cousin?” Juliana repeated. She was running through her family tree in her mind. Aunt Bertha had no children, and she knew all the cousins she had on her father’s side.
“Quite distantly,” John said, giving her an awkward smile and a short bow. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Both of you, that is.”
“Very kind of you, sir,” Mary murmured.
“Are we done with the pleasantries?” Lady Ascot, a formidable woman with grey hair and a back straighter than a ruler, barked. “We have traveled a long way. I should not like to wait any longer for some victuals.”
“Do follow me,” Aunt Bertha said graciously, taking no offense, it seemed, at her guest’s manner.
The Baroness followed her with John close at her side. Exchanging a glance, the girls trailed into the dining room in their turn, each wondering what on earth they were in for.
The food was served as soon as they were settled. Aunt Bertha was obviously anxious not to displease their guest. And well she might be, since she was far outranked by the Baroness. Even had it not been the case, the Baroness had the air about her of a woman who was not to be disobeyed.
“What brings you to Bath, my lady?” Juliana asked politely as they enjoyed their first course.
“John is not my first son,” the old woman said. Her voice was such that even innocent words sounded sharp. “His brother will inherit the estate, and thus he must make himself useful in another way. He is to enter the clergy forthwith.”
Juliana looked at John with some surprise. Privately, she thought to herself that he was old to be embarking on such an endeavor. His hair was thinning around the temples already.
She waited, but there was no more said. “I’m sorry, my lady,” Juliana said, flushing a little at having to admit her ignorance. “I don’t follow.”
“He is looking for a position, of course,” Lady Ascot said, with an air about her as if Juliana had asked the most stupid question in the entire world. “We are here to assess a nearby rectory and decide if it will be suitable for him. It has been offered to him, if he wishes to take it. All that remains is for us to choose.”
There was a short pause. Juliana did not feel brave enough to offer any follow-up questions, nor even to speak in acknowledgment of the facts. The Baroness, it seemed, did not expect a reply.
“Do you not have a wife to accompany you in choosing?” Mary asked. Then she turned an interesting shade of pink and tried to undo her words immediately. “Not that the Baroness is a poor choice of companion – I am sure she is far wiser than any other you would take with you – I only meant…”
“I know what you meant,” John assured her, smiling. “No, I am not yet married.”
He paused meaningfully after this statement, and looked straight at Juliana. Resisting the urge to squawk in alarm, she instead turned her face down to her plate and began hurriedly busying herself with the task of eating.
“We will stay a while,” Lady Ascot announced. “A few weeks, at the least. Enough time to view the rectory and make certain choices. Perhaps while we are here, we might also discover a wife for my son.”
These words were even more pointed than John’s expression, and Juliana kept her face buried as much as she could. She did not want to make the kind of faux pas which would result from them noting the look of distaste she could not help but wear, nor the alarm that accompanied it.
Marry this man? This distant cousin of hers who was no more than a clergyman? No, she would not! It was not a position for her at all. Not only that, but the man was… old. Did it mean he had some sort of defect that he had avoided finding a wife until his hair was beginning to disappear?
Aunt Bertha soon steered the conversation towards other matters, for which Juliana was grateful. She could easily and without concern discuss the fashions of the day, the balls held over the winter that she had attended, and the delights that Bath had to offer. She could even quite happily recommend which shops Lady Ascot might want to visit for this alteration or that fabric.
But she could not, and would not, discuss any further the possibility of marriage to John Woode.
That night in her bed, she lay awake, staring up at the dim impression of the ceiling above her in the darkness.
The longer she lay awake for, the more indignant she became.
How could she have missed all this? She had thought to pull the wool over her parents’ eyes in coming here, and all along it was her who had been hoodwinked. They had given her a stricter chaperone after all: there was no chance
Lady Ascot was the kind of woman who could be avoided.
And it was no coincidence at all, for John Woode to arrive in his search for a wife just a short while after her visit began. Their presence in the house would coincide almost in its entirety, which meant she was to spend the whole of her spring pandering to this old woman and her son.
All of this, and no word from Christopher either!
What a spring it was turning out to be – very far indeed for the magical time which Juliana had expected. She tossed and turned with one sigh after another, wondering if she would ever be able to sleep again before she returned home with such thoughts on her mind.