Loving Julia

by Karen Robards

  The feeling that all was not right grew stronger, but Julia told herself firmly that she was simply allowing her imagination to run away with her. Of course she had nothing to fear merely by being in this place. Even if Elizabeth did haunt the place, she would have no reason to harm her unless of course she was jealous that Sebastian meant to replace her and … But she was being ridiculous, she told herself firmly as she picked up her skirts in both hands and began a careful ascent of the slippery stone stairs. There were no such things as ghosts.

  It seemed to take forever to reach the top of the stairs. Julia felt as if she were climbing through air that grew ever thicker, intentionally impeding her progress. But of course that was just her imagination, too, and her imagination that caused her heart to pound when she saw a golden glow suffuse the open trap door that led into the aperture where the bell had once been.

  Taking her common sense firmly in hand, Julia climbed the

  two steps remaining and pulled herself up into the small room. She saw at once that it was empty, and that the golden glow was caused by the bright summer sunlight streaming in through the open archway. No ghost at all, of course.

  But also no Chloe. Her walk and her worry had been in vain. But where could the child have gotten to? Struck by a dreadful thought, Julia crossed to the knee-high stone wall across the open archway through which the bell had swung. Placing her hand carefully on the wall beside her for support, Julia peered down.

  Two hundred feet below, past the blackened walls of the monastery and the craggy stone cliffs with their outcroppings of heath, lay the Wash. Spray darkened rocks stood stolidly while creaming waves washed over them, retreated, and washed over them again. The salty smell of the sea was faint so high above it, as was the muted roar of the breakers. Far louder were the cries of the seagulls and terns as they circled and wheeled not far from where Julia stood.

  Of course there was no small figure smashed on the rocks below, and Julia shook her head at her own fancies. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  Then she saw it. In the tiny graveyard. The white cowled figure with the face of death, looking up toward where she stood.

  Julia wheeled away from the arched opening through which Elizabeth had fallen to her death, her hands pressed to her heart which was pounding wildly in her chest. Her eyes were huge with horror. This was the vision she had seen in her dream; this was what the villagers saw when one of the Peyton family was facing death. Good God, had it been the last sight Elizabeth had seen on earth? Was it the last sight she would ever see?

  She had to get out of the tower—now. Just as instinctively as a rabbit knows to run from a fox, Julia knew that her life depended on getting out of that bell tower as quickly as possible. But her limbs, nearly frozen with terror, seemed strangely reluctant to move.

  She was stumbling toward the trap door when a head emerged through it. Her heart stopped, then started again as the sunlight glinted off gleaming fair hair.

  Sebastian? No. Even with the golden sunlight half-blinding her and terror at what she had just seen befuddling her senses, she knew this was not Sebastian. She backed away from the figure even as it pulled itself through the trap door. As it came to its feet the long white robes in which it was enveloped opened to reveal the glittering sharp blade of a butcher knife. Her eyes fastened on that knife for a long, horror-struck moment, then lifted to the face of the figure beneath the cowl.

  For a moment, with the sun shining so brightly all around, she again thought she was looking at the faceless figure of death. Then the hood was thrown back.

  “Caroline!” Julia gasped. She stared into the serene blue eyes that looked exactly as they had in her bedroom less than an hour earlier, and felt hysterical laughter bubble up in her throat. Caroline was not a murderer. Sweet gentle Caroline? It was impossible.

  Caroline smiled at her, looking as unruffled as if they were meeting in the drawing room at White Friars, and Julia felt an icy chill race down her spine. Something about that gentle smile told her that Caroline was utterly, totally mad.

  “I’m so sorry, Julia,” Caroline said regretfully as if she were declining an invitation to tea. “I really am.”

  “Did you come to help me look for Chloe, Caroline?” Julia said carefully, her mind working with lightning speed as she tried to come up with a way to save herself. Instinctively she tried to be calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. Showing fear was the worst thing she could do, she sensed.

  “No.” Caroline shook her head, looking momentarily puzzled, as if she couldn’t remember why she was there. Julia took advantage of the moment to risk edging a step closer to the trap door. With Caroline situated as she was, it would be nearly impossible to get around her without giving the other woman the opportunity to stab her several times—if Caroline really would stab her.

  “Don’t come any closer, Julia,” Caroline warned in a suddenly harsh voice. The blue eyes glinted as she made a threatening gesture with the knife. Then Julia knew that Caroline would use the weapon if she had to. Though undoubtedly she would prefer that Julia go over the edge of the bell tower without a betraying wound, as had Elizabeth, to be dashed to death on the rocks by the sea.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Julia. I don’t want to. I just want you to walk over there to the wall and … disappear.”

  Caroline sounded almost pleading. Julia, staring at her with growing horror, wondered if it would be possible to rush her and get the knife. Caroline was taller than she, but her years on the streets had made her tough.

  “You don’t want to do this, Caroline,” Julia said soothingly, keeping her back flat against the wall and her eyes on Caroline at all times. A mounting tide of terror was making it difficult to think, but she forced it back, knowing she had to keep a clear head. She decided in an instant that she would rush Caroline only as a last resort. Talk would be her first line of defense. Emily knew where she was, Julia remembered with a surge of hope. If she could keep Caroline standing here talking long enough, Sebastian would come. Emily would tell him where she was when she didn’t return in time to meet him at the altar.

  “No, I don’t want to,” Caroline said with real regret. “But you shouldn’t be marrying Sebastian. I tried to warn you, you know. I dressed up like this that night in your room when you were ill, and I told you what would happen if you didn’t give up Sebastian. Elizabeth died, and you will too, I said. But you didn’t listen, so this is your own fault. I am supposed to be the Countess of Moorland, not you—or Elizabeth. It’s why I married Edward. He died, but that’s all right. I like Sebastian much better anyway.

  Sebastian is so handsome. When he marries me, I’ll be Lady Moorland, just as I ought.”

  “Is that why you killed Elizabeth, Caroline?” Julia’s voice was soft.

  “She should never have been Lady Moorland,” Caroline said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I was supposed to be that. When Edward died, and then the old lord, she took my place. Everyone started calling her by my name. You can understand why I didn’t like that. At first I couldn’t think of any way to stop it, though. Then it occurred to me that I could still be Lady Moorland if I were married to Sebastian. He didn’t much like that simpering wife of his anyway, and I am far more beautiful. Sebastian used to smile at me—he liked me, he’s always liked me. He would have married me by now—if not for you.” She directed a baleful look at Julia, who shrank back against the wall.

  “Even if you kill me, Caroline, there’s no guarantee that Sebastian will marry you,” Julia said reasonably, praying that the showdown would not come yet.

  Caroline smiled. “Who else will he marry? Everyone thinks he killed Elizabeth anyway. I didn’t intend that, but it’s worked out very well. And when you die, no female in the country would have him. Except for me, of course. I’ll stand by him no matter what. And one day he’ll start wanting children, normal children. He’ll have to marry me.”

  Caroline’s plan had
a mad sort of logic to it, Julia thought. She could conceive of just the scenario Caroline described. With her death, and all that had come before it, Sebastian would be a pariah in England. He could go abroad, of course, but there was Chloe. She didn’t think he’d abandon Chloe, or his estates. At least not forever. He would come back, and be lonely, and there would be Caroline.

  “You don’t want to do this, Caroline. And you don’t have to. We can get help for you.” Julia’s voice was hoarse as she realized that Caroline’s eyes were glazing over. The end was coming and help was nowhere in sight. The instincts of danger that had warned her against coming near the old monastery had been right, she realized. And she realized too that perhaps the eerie feeling that had plagued her earlier was a premonition she might die here.

  “I don’t want help. I want to be the Countess of Moorland.” Caroline’s voice was as calmly reasonable as before, but before Julia could think of anything else to say she took a step forward, brandishing the knife. The long silver blade glinted wickedly in the brilliant sunlight.

  “Step back, Julia.” The calm voice was at odds with the mad glitter of her eyes. Julia swallowed, eyeing Caroline and the knife. If help didn’t come soon, she would have to jump her, and fight her for possession of the knife. But she had a few more minutes. Please, God …

  Julia took a step back, still pressing flat against the cold stone wall.

  “That’s very good. You’re being very sensible. Not like that crybaby Elizabeth. She cried and cried, even though I explained things to her. Finally I quite lost my patience. She wouldn’t just disappear as she was supposed to. I had to push her. Step back again, Julia.”

  Julia knew that she was very near the low wall that opened out over the drop she had been staring down at earlier. She didn’t dare take too many more steps back. Too close to the wall, and a rush from Caroline might easily send her over. Which must have been, she realized, what had happened to Elizabeth.

  She took a tiny step back. Caroline looked displeased.

  “I hope you’re not going to be difficult about this. Stand away from that wall, if you please.”

  Julia had to stifle a hysterical giggle. Caroline sounded so normal; this could not be happening. It could not, but it was. And if help did not come very, very soon, she realized, she would have to grapple for the knife.

  But it was too late for any kind of plan. With a furious cry and the upraised knife glittering murderously in the sun, Caroline rushed forward. Julia was almost surprised into leaping backwards out of the way—and to her death. Instead she managed to throw herself to one side just as Caroline’s body slammed into hers, forcing it hard against the solid stone wall. The hand holding the knife slashed down, and Julia screamed, trying to dodge away even as her hands came up to ward off the knife. She felt the cold slice of metal through the soft flesh of her bare arm, saw the rush of warm, red blood, and saw too the knife as it was raised for another strike.

  “No!” howled a voice from the direction of the trap door.

  Before Julia could even grasp the identity of her rescuer, there was a rush of movement as a body flung itself across the bell tower and into Caroline. At the impact Caroline staggered backward. What happened next was over before Julia could do anything but watch in horror.

  Caroline tottered against the low wall and lost her balance. She hung poised over the edge for what seemed an eternity, eyes widening and arms flailing wildly, silhouetted against the bright blue of the summer sky. Then with an earsplitting scream she fell.

  It was some minutes before Julia could turn away from the empty arch of blue sky where Caroline had been. Outside it appeared as though nothing at all had happened to change the tenor of the beautiful summer day. The seagulls and terns still wheeled and cried, the sky was still a gorgeous blue, and the sun still shone. Yet the horror had happened and was over, thanks to a small warm body pressed even now against Julia’s skirts.

  “Chloe!” Julia gasped weakly as the awesome fact of the child’s act hit home for the first time. Feeling the child’s body shake as it pressed against her legs, Julia sank to her knees and drew the trembling little girl into her arms. Blood ran from the shallow gash in her upper arm to drip onto the stone floor, but Julia was beyond feeling pain.

  “Chloe, darling, you saved my life.”

  The small face that was so like Sebastian’s lifted for a moment to look into hers with those celestial blue eyes.

  “Mummy!” Chloe said clearly, and buried her face again in Julia’s shoulder. Sobs shook her small frame. Julia bent over the child, crooning to her in wordless comfort as she rocked her back and forth in her arms. The two of them clung together for what seemed a long time. Finally another bright head emerged through the trap door, and Sebastian appeared beside them. Julia had not heard his approach, and neither, it seemed, had Chloe.

  “My God, are you all right? Julia? Chloe? What in hell happened to your arm?”

  He was dressed in his wedding finery, and his face was as white as his shirt. His voice was hoarse as he saw the blood running down Julia’s arm to stain her dress and drip on the floor. Julia shook her head at him.

  “Caroline … had a knife. She … tried to kill me.” She didn’t want to say any more, or make a fuss about what had happened in Chloe’s hearing. Sebastian, sensing the reason for her reticence, stared down at her, then sank to one knee and knotted his handkerchief firmly over the wound without speaking. He stood up, moving to the arch to look down at where Caroline’s body lay on the rocks below. He stared silently for a moment, then turned back to look at his daughter and the woman he loved as they clung together on the cold stone floor.

  “Chloe?” he said huskily, looking down at the child Julia still cradled in her arms.

  “She’s all right. She saved my life.”

  “Christ. I …” He broke off as Chloe’s head came up, and she looked around at him. For a moment the small mouth trembled and the blue eyes were wide as she stared up at Sebastian’s tall form towering over them both. Julia held her breath. Would the child dissolve into one of the screaming fits that Sebastian’s presence always brought on?

  Then, “Papa,” Chloe said clearly, as big tears rolled down her cheeks. These were not the tears of hysteria but of grief, and Sebastian dropped to his knees beside his child, wrapping his arms around her and Julia both.

  “Baby,” Sebastian said, his own tears clear in his voice. The three of them rocked together for a long time before making their way back to White Friars.

  EPILOGUE

  On a bright summer day nearly two years later, Julia was leaning back against the trunk of a huge oak tree not far outside the village of Bishop’s Lynn. Sebastian was lying with his head in her lap, his eyes closed as he napped away the afternoon.

  They had driven out from White Friars with a huge picnic lunch, most of which had already been comfortably demolished. The remains had been tidily packed away into the basket, which sat near them. Chloe, her bright hair arranged into a single thick plait, was busy shepherding her black haired baby sister through her first steps. Clare and her twin brother, Charles, who was at that moment asleep on a blanket near Julia’s feet, were nearly a year old, and their energy was practically inexhaustible. Chloe thought they were the most marvelous beings on earth with their huge blue eyes and mops of black curls, and Julia was pleased at the almost maternal affection she showered on her two rowdy siblings.

  Now, watching fondly as Chloe tried to interest Clare in a pretty yellow butterfly, Julia felt a rush of contentment. She had Sebastian, and Chloe, and Clare, and Charles, and in six months time would have another child. A family such as she could never have imagined all that time ago when she had been a homeless street waif starved for love. Now she had all the love she could ever have dreamed of, and she considered herself truly blessed. Her cup was overflowing.

  The change in Chloe over the past two years was remarkable. Julia had feared that what had happened with Caroline would leave its mark on the child f
orever, but instead it had seemed to act as a kind of catharsis. Chloe had at last come out of the silent world she had retreated to, little by little at first and then finally with a huge rush of words that so far showed no signs of abating. She seemed to feel she had a proprietary claim on Julia and the babies, and she adored her father. Julia had never asked her, not wanting to bring back bad memories, but she guessed that the servants’ speculation had been right. Chloe had probably seen Sebastian carrying Elizabeth’s body into the house that dreadful day, and thereafter had not been able to look at her father without associating him with her mother’s death. But after Chloe had saved Julia from the same tragic end, she had never had another screaming spell, for which Julia was thankful.

  One thing Julia had discovered was that Chloe had been responsible for the eerie feeling of being followed she had so often had when she had walked out-of-doors at White Friars. Chloe had slipped away from Miss Belkerson frequently that fall to follow Julia, her small size enabling her to hide in places that would have been impossible for an adult. Apparently Chloe had associated Julia with her mother from the time Julia had found her crying in the bell tower, and ever afterwards had feared that Julia might meet Elizabeth’s fate. She had acted as a pintsized bodyguard, even on that terrible day when her quick action had saved Julia’s life. From what Julia had been able to piece together, Chloe had been on her way back to the house from an expedition to gather flowers as a wedding gift for Julia when she had seen Caroline following her toward the monastery. Chloe had followed—and been on hand to save Julia’s life.

  The wedding had been held two weeks after it was originally scheduled, and this time Chloe had attended. She had stood with her grandmother in front of the crowd of servants and had watched as Julia and Sebastian became man and wife. Julia had been prepared to claw the dowager countess’ eyes out the minute the older woman said or did anything to upset either Sebastian or Chloe, but in the end her new mother-in-law had been very well behaved. She visited them at White Friars once or twice a year, and her relationship with both Sebastian and Chloe was much improved. She didn’t seem to know quite what to make of Clare—the baby seemed to take a positive delight in having temperamental fits whenever confronted with her grandmother. But she adored Charles—the heir, Julia thought ironically. But Julia, largely for Sebastian’s sake, tried her best to get along with Sebastian’s mother, and to her surprise succeeded tolerably well. As for the new baby …