What followed next was both predictable and startling. The marquis proposed. Her mother had strategically left them alone but thankfully had the thought to leave the drawing room doors open so servants passed now and again and leaving her in no danger of the marquis taking any liberties. The thought alone made bile rise in her throat. Somehow the man managed to put together a sentence, or rather a question, proposing marriage without making an innuendo. She opened her mouth, prepared to give her answer and then stopped.
“My Lord,” she said at last. “This is a very important decision and it would change both of our lives. Would you mind very much if I took some time to think over it? We will see one another in London soon and I can give you my answer then.”
He scowled, indicating he minded very much, but in the end nodded. “It is a big a decision. I did not ask lightly and I do not expect you to answer lightly.” She thought she had gotten off rather easy, at least until they made it to the season in London, but then he took his hand in his and kissed the back of it for far too long. “I shall look forward to hearing your answer when I see you next.” He left quickly after that and though her mother was not altogether pleased with her, she still seemed convinced that Julia would accept, in the end.
In her heart, Julia truly did not know what she would do. Every time she thought she made a decision, she changed her mind. She was not sleeping well and hardly eating. Her mother worried over her figure while Julia worried over her future. Ben had taken her aside and tried to speak to her about Shep but she had made it clear that she did not want to hear it.
“I know he is your best friend, and I would never want to interfere with that relationship, because you have both been so important to one another,” she told him quietly. “But you are also my brother. And in the interest of both relationships, I ask that we do not speak of this subject.”
He had expected her to be angry and stubborn, not measured and calm and…sad, so very low. Her response shut him up far more quickly than if she would have yelled at him. So they did not speak of it. Occasionally, Cat would look at her in a special way that made it obvious she was willing to talk about it if Julia wanted to, but Julia never took her up on it. The truth was, she had already confided in Catherine more than she had with anyone before. She was talked out. She did not want to think about Shep anymore. It was over. It was done.
But then, one otherwise normal day, a letter arrived for her. She had it half opened before she saw that it was from Cunningham. She considered abandoning it altogether but she had already started to open it and everyone had looked at her when she paused. If things were really done with Shep, then she should be able to read a letter from him. It would not matter what he said. It could not change anything. She knew people were watching as she read so she schooled her face into a perfect mask.
Still, it was difficult to read the words she had always wanted to hear. She swallowed tears. He seemed a little different, humbled, contrite. But it still was not enough. She would not write him back, even though he asked her to, because she had nothing to say to him. She set the letter aside. She thought it would be only right that she add it to her collection of broken dreams beneath her bed.
It did not ease her heart to know that Shep had truly loved her all those years ago. Once, it might have. But not now. It just made her irrationally angry with the both of them, that they’d had a chance at happiness and been unable to grab it. Despite the humility in his letter and his very well-intentioned apology, he had not written of loving her presently and so she forced herself to close the box of letters and promised herself to never open it again. Shep and Julia were truly over.
She had no clarity in the weeks to come, though the marquis wrote to her often and she wrote back with as much emotion as she could muster up. No matter his character, he did not deserve for her to take her bad mood out on him. So she made the best effort she could. She tried not to feel sorry for herself but sometimes she failed.
That is until the day when Carlisle brought the terrible news to Pritchford Place.
Mr. Watson, the beloved father of Catherine and Jane, was dead. He went peacefully in the middle of the night, passing from this world to the next in his sleep, a small mercy. He had been a good man and a good father, and Julia’s heart broke for Catherine and Jane, the latter of whom would now be moving into Pritchford Place since she would be the ward of Ben and Catherine. To lose a father was awful, Julia knew, but she was glad that Jane would be loved in her new home and that Cat and Jane could be a comfort to one another during this very difficult time.
Julia had written to the marquis that she could not answer his proposal at such a time as this and that obviously their trip to London would be delayed for a few weeks. Though she put him out of her mind, his response was measured and even kind. It surprised her so much she wondered if he had asked his steward to write it. She thought of it briefly before she put her own problems out of her mind. She was completely focused on Cat and Jane. As far as she was concerned, they were her sisters and she needed to be there for them.
“He loved George, you know,” Jane said fondly to her sister after the funeral. “He was so proud of you.”
“But I have not done anything,” Cat replied humbly, holding George a bit closer, despite her growing belly.
“He said it was brave of you to finally see yourself as God sees you and to come out of your shell and I happen to agree,” Jane told her. “Why, I remember when I had to convince you that you were truly worthy to be Ben’s wife and now you are and you have little Georgie and another baby on the way.”
“Oh, Jane.” Cat sniffled a bit. “You shall make me cry.
“Papa wouldn’t want that,” Jane stated sagely.
“He was very good and loved you both very much,” Julia said, though she felt like an outsider in some ways. She did not know whether they wanted her here or not, where she was a comfort or a hindrance.
But then Cat spoke up. “Oh, Julia. You have been such a comfort to us during this time. I do not know what we would have done without you. The funeral today… That was all your doing.”
“It was nothing,” Julia insisted. “I wish I could do more.”
“You are,” Cat told her. “By being with us, in such a state, you are.” Cat reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Not to change the subject, but I do not want to cry anymore. Did I see John Christopherson at the church?”
Jane said nothing, which made everything more obvious. Julia would have to give her lessons if she wanted to keep her business more circumspect.
“Yes,” Julia replied, trying to save the girl. “He came to the graveyard too. He hung back a little though.”
Jane said something so quietly neither of the other women could hear her. She had to repeat it and even then, Julia had to lean forward. “I said, he hung back because he was ashamed of his suit.”
“Oh.” Julia did not know what else to say.
“He has been a good friend to the family,” Cat said. Jane looked up, surprised to not receive censure from her sister about her continued friendship with John. But Catherine would never choose today of all days to speak of such things.
“It is he who has needed friends all these years. You have no idea what his life…” Jane choked out the words before tears began to fall from her eyes. “And now he is leaving.”
“Leaving?” Julia asked.
Jane wiped her tears away, ashamed by them. “Yes. But it is for the best. He is not well treated here and a distant relative wrote to him about a position… It is complicated. He would never leave his brothers, but this way, he will be able to send money home.”
Julia knew Cat was taking in every word so she chose her next question carefully. “It was kind of him to stay for the funeral. Were you able to say goodbye?”
George began to cry, putting up quite a fuss, which was fair since it had been an awfully long day. Julia stood to try and soothe him. When that did not work, she announced that she would take him up to the nurs
ery. Jane looked over her shoulder and shifted closer to Julia. “We said goodbye…in a way,” Jane told her. “But not the way I would have liked.”
“Jane…” Julia began cautiously. “I trust your judgment more than I trust my own. You are far wiser than your years. So I know you have conducted yourself correctly. But…have you formed an attachment to John?”
Jane wiped more tears from her eyes. “If I had, that would be the stupidest thing I have ever done.”
“You sound like me.” Julia arched a brow. “Which would usually make me proud, but when it comes to matters of the heart, it only concerns me more.”
“The point is, he is gone,” Jane said with such finality that again Julia was reminded of herself.
“Oh, my darling,” Julia murmured, gathering the girl on the cusp of womanhood into her arms and holding her close. “I am so sorry. So sorry about your papa. And so sorry about John too. I wish I could fix it all for you.”
“Oh, Julia,” Jane cried into her shoulder. “I do not know what I am going to do.”
“I know I cannot fix it.” She stroked Jane’s hair. “But please let me help.”
Jane pulled back. “I am sorry to have cried all over you.”
“Nonsense!” Julia insisted. “I feel very fortunate to know and love both the Watson sisters as if they were my very own. If only I had known you when I was young! I always wanted sisters, but all I had to play with was Ben…” She swallowed and forced a smile on her face. “And Shep.” She hated the way her mind always seemed to go to him no matter what. She would forget him. Whether she accepted the marquis or not, she would build a life without him and she would live. She would rescue herself.
“I like Shep very much,” Jane said, watching Julia’s face. “It seemed as if you two had a very easy friendship.”
“Easy?” Julia scoffed. “Nothing with that man has ever been easy. But let us not talk about him when you are grieving.”
“Oh! I would rather talk about anything else than grief!” Jane said with a huff of air.
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17
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“I am afraid that I have made too
many mistakes with her…”
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jane’s Influence
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Ben had written to Shep and asked him to come, despite what had taken place with Julia. He was worried about Cat and the baby with the loss of her father, and he thought everyone could use the distraction. And besides, he had added, Shep always loved Pritchford Place. Perhaps it had been a mistake to leave in the first place.
Shep wanted to return, but he did not want to hurt Julia further. Then he had seen the postscript of the letter from his old friend. I’ve spoken to Julia to ensure that all is well if you come. She has assured me that all is, in fact, well, and that you should do whatever you think is best, Ben wrote.
So Shep went partly for his friend and partly because ever since he had imagined what it could be like if Julia was his wife, he had not been able to stop thinking about her or the dream of building a life together. She haunted his every moment. Sometimes he felt despair, knowing the unlikelihood of it ever becoming a reality, but more often than not, any memory or fantasy of the future with Julia brought a smile to his face.
He knew it was folly, but he also knew she had neither accepted nor rejected the marquis, so perhaps there was some hope for the two of them. He had to believe there was. He could not believe that the world was so cruel as to finally show him that what he really needed in his life was Julia only for that to be an impossibility. If he had only realized it sooner! If he had not bungled his proposal and packaged it as if he was saving her! Up until that night, he’d still had a chance. But now things were drastically different.
Still, the last thing he wanted to do was to wound her further than he already had and so he promised himself to act carefully and thoughtfully when it came to pursuing her. He would treat the situation cautiously. He would be mindful.
In the end, she was vacant and distant upon meeting him. She called him by his formal title, and he did not correct her. She did not raise her brow at him, and he did not snap at her. Their politeness made him intolerably sad. He found that he liked the good-natured sparring with her that he was used to. It had once pulled him out of his grief from Reg, his brother, and then later, Rosemary. But of course, he had not given her the credit soon enough.
It was not even as if she was wearing her Ice Queen mask. She did not even bother to show him disdain. It felt like there was an impenetrable bubble around her. Every part of her personality seemed subdued, like she was going through life half asleep.
He found that she avoided all of the places he went and even her usual haunts. She did not keep to her rooms and at the same time made it impossible for him to locate her. The one person, however, who seemed to watch his every movement, was Jane. He felt a bit like she was a scientist as she studied the very few interactions Shep and Julia shared. He knew the girl was insightful, and he wondered what her take on it was. But her loyalty seemed to be with Julia, as they appeared closer than ever. It was only later when he was in the library pondering a volume of Homer that he and Julia had argued over as adolescents that Jane ran into him.
“Oh,” she said. “Excuse me. I was just looking for a volume of Austen my father purchased for Cat. I thought it would bring some comfort.”
“I know I have already said so, but I am very sorry to hear about your father. He seemed like a wonderful man. Can I help you find that book, Jane?” Shep asked her, trying to put aside his own thoughts. Here he was thinking of Julia when Ben had asked him to come and help distract the Watson girls from their grief so that Cat might have a healthy pregnancy.
“No, thank you,” she murmured. “It is right here.” She lifted the book from the shelf. “Everyone has been so kind to us since Papa passed. You…Julia…”
Shep looked at Jane to see if she was purposefully putting their names together, but her countenance appeared perfectly innocent.
She went on, “Julia has always been so good though. Why, I do not think Cat and Ben would be together without her influence.”
Shep laughed, but it sounded strangled in his throat. He wished he could tell her that he finally understood what he had known all along, that Julia was everything wonderful and good. But that was impossible now, especially as Julia had made her disinterest clear. “She does manage to influence us all, does she not?”
“I do not know if I would put it that way.” Jane stared at him guilelessly. “She did not have to influence them so much as state some truths they needed to hear. I happen to agree with what she said then, to Cat and Ben. She said that if two people love each other, they should be together. Do you agree?”
“I do,” he replied slowly and carefully, his chest aching. Oh, he had really made a mess of things.
She gave him an impish grin. “Then I wonder why you are in here and not with Julia.”
“I am afraid that I have made too many mistakes with her, if you really want to know the truth,” he replied contritely. “I do not think she would have me, and I cannot blame her for it one bit.”
She looked at him for a long time. “I know you teased her about being cold and icy, but you have known her most of your life. So you know the truth. When she loves someone, she would forgive them anything.” Shep felt frozen to the spot as Jane continued, “So I wonder if you have tried simply apologizing.”
This time, he laughed genuinely. “God help the man you finally set your sights on someday, Jane.”
She winked, but her heart clenched painfully in her chest as she thought of John. “Maybe I already have one in my sights, Your Grace.” She skipped out of the room, her heart just the slightest bit lighter at the possible reunion of two people who were meant to be together.
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That dream has long passed me by …
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Answering the Marquis
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London
They traveled to London in two coaches, a grand expense but one that Ben could readily pay, as Jane was now his ward and because Shep would be accompanying them to stay at his own London home.
Cat had been good enough to arrange the rides so that the women and the men rode separately. Julia knew it was for her benefit, so she did not have to be with Shep. She had managed to be polite to him during his stay after Mr. Watson’s death. She knew better this time than to get sucked back in with teasing and sarcasm. She had not run into him alone because she made sure of it. She had felt like a fugitive, scampering from room to room as they circled one another. But it was nearly over. The coaches dropped them off at their townhouse while the one carrying the men went on to take Shep to his home, once Ben exited.
She felt proud of the way she’d handled the Shep situation. But not in the way she expected to feel. There was no glee in this victory, only more sadness. They would see each other in the future and it would be like this, as if nothing had ever happened between them, shadows of their old selves. She had meant to throw away the box of letters before they left for the season to completely close the chapter, but first Mr. Watson had died and then Shep had arrived. She did not dare do it when he was in the house, no matter how big of a place it was. So the box was still under her bed at Pritchford Place.
Regency Romance: The Duke’s Ever Burning Passion (Fire and Smoke: CLEAN Historical Romance) Page 11