by Georgie Lee
‘I suppose it’s my turn to thank you,’ James said.
‘You’ll have plenty of time to thank me once you’re married. But first, we need to eat. I know a place not far from here where we can get some food and a horse.’
‘You mean I’ll have to hire a horse for you since you have no blunt,’ Julia corrected.
‘How kind of you to offer, sister, though I have plenty of blunt, just not here in London—’
‘If you don’t mind,’ James interrupted, ‘I have a much better suggestion.’
Chapter Fourteen
‘I thought you said your suggestion was better?’ Julia hissed, taking in the dark-wood entrance hall of the well-appointed town house, her stomach tight with worry.
The captain put his arm around her shoulders and offered an encouraging squeeze. ‘Have faith, Artemis.’
Her worried eyes met Paul’s, not sure what to expect. The butler had left them to fetch the mistress of the house, which belonged to none other than James’s mother.
‘Perhaps we should go to Charles’s town house,’ Julia pleaded, stepping back towards the door.
‘No, I want to introduce you to my mother.’
‘Like this?’ She waved her hand over the uniform, not wanting to meet her future mother-in-law in such scandalous attire.
‘She’ll understand.’
A stout woman in her early fifties appeared at the top of the stairs, her plump frame draped in a silk morning wrapper. A linen cap covered her dark hair and she had the pinched groggy expression of someone who’d just been roused from bed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Good morning, Mother.’ He met her at the bottom of the stairs with a respectful hug. ‘I see you’re safely returned from Charlotte’s.’
‘And very, very late last night thanks to the miserable roads, which is why you’d better have a good reason for disturbing me so early this morning.’
‘Who’s in a spot of trouble now?’ Paul chuckled in Julia’s ear and she elbowed him silent.
Mrs Covington stepped back from her son, taking in the motley, unwashed group dressed in dirty uniforms, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. ‘I thought you were in the country?’
‘I was but I had business in town, some of which might interest you.’
‘I doubt it, but get on with it so I can return to bed.’
He took Julia’s hand and pulled her forwards. ‘I want to introduce you to my fiancée.’
‘What kind of joke is this?’ she sputtered, grasping her robe tight around her neck. ‘I will not stand for this kind of tomfoolery so early in the day.’
‘I assure you, this is no joke. I’d like you to meet Miss Julia Howard.’
He pulled off her hat and Julia’s long braid tumbled down her back. She squared her shoulders, put her chin in the air and stepped forwards with as much grace as she could muster in a pair of men’s Hessians.
‘Mrs Covington, I’m delighted to meet you.’ Julia curtsied, using everything Annette had taught her about behaving in society to stay poised, but Mrs Covington’s eyes remained stony.
‘And the gentleman?’ she asked, nodding at Paul.
‘My brother, Lieutenant Paul Howard.’
‘A pleasure, madam.’ He swept into a low bow, more to cover his smile than to show his respect.
‘Am I to assume the three of you have stopped here on your way to Gretna Green?’
‘Of course not,’ James said. ‘We have an appointment at the church near Miss Howard’s estate today at three. Miss Howard is George Russell’s niece.’
Mrs Covington’s stony eyes warmed. ‘The one who runs the estate?’
‘The very young lady.’
‘Well, why didn’t you say so sooner?’ She rushed at Julia with arms outstretched, enveloping her in a big hug. ‘My dear, I’m so pleased to have you here.’
‘Thank you.’ The sudden change in emotion caught her off guard, but she preferred it to the rebuke she’d imagined.
Mrs Covington stepped back, clasping her hands together in excitement, the lace at her sleeves fluttering. ‘Your uncle told me a great deal about you, but of course my son doesn’t write to tell me he’s getting married and to George’s niece of all people.’
‘It all happened very fast and you were travelling. The letter wouldn’t have reached you.’
‘That’s no excuse for showing up like a vagabond and announcing it.’ She wagged a reprimanding finger at Paul. ‘I hope you have more respect for your mother.’
‘Of course.’ Paul nodded solemnly but Julia noticed the laughter in his eyes.
‘Mother, we must borrow the chaise if we’re to make it back to Knollwood in time,’ James informed her, attempting to regain control of the situation, but Julia could tell Mrs Covington had no intention of relinquishing it.
‘Borrow—oh, no, I’m going with you. But first, we must get Miss Howard some suitable travelling attire.’
‘There isn’t time.’
‘Then we’ll be quick because if you think I’m going to have my future daughter-in-law traipsing about the countryside dressed like a man, you’re quite mistaken.’ She examined Julia’s dust-covered uniform, tutting under her breath. ‘You’re about Charlotte’s size. My daughter always leaves a couple of dresses here. One is sure to fit. Come along and we’ll find one. And, James, arrange to have breakfast sent up to your sister’s room. You probably haven’t even fed the poor girl. You two can have breakfast in the morning room.’ Mrs Covington took Julia’s arm and escorted her up the stairs.
* * *
Julia wasn’t sure which moved faster, their chaise or Mrs Covington’s conversation. The woman talked without breathing or pausing, jumping from one topic to the next as they sped past the mile posts. Paul had left town shortly after breakfast, riding ahead on James’s London stallion to inform Knollwood of their impending arrival and to arrange their meeting at the church. Manfred and Hector were stabled in James’s mews, enjoying a well-deserved rest.
James, Julia and his mother had not started for Knollwood until nearly eleven. Business had delayed them in London, something to do with the Admiralty, though James never said what. Now, if they hoped to make it to Knollwood by three, they had to hurry. Mrs Covington’s post-boy was an excellent driver and they made good time, despite one stop to change the horses.
They’d maintained a sensible pace until the turn to Daringford, then Mrs Covington insisted on speed. Despite the post-boy’s skill, Julia found the fast pace unsettling. She might have developed her brother’s taste for adventure, but an overturned carriage did not figure into any of her plans.
‘Perhaps we should slow down? If the vicar was convinced to hold the ceremony today, he’ll be just as easily persuaded to hold it tomorrow,’ Julia suggested while Mrs Covington paused to take a breath. The woman shook her head, grasping the windowsill when the carriage took a sharp corner, forcing James to hold the strap to keep from leaning into Julia.
‘Heavens, no, my dear. You two have a date at the altar and I intend for you to keep it. Do you know how many years I’ve waited for James to marry? I have no intention of putting it off any longer. Besides...’ she leaned forwards, patting Julia’s hand and smiling ‘...I like you and I have no intention of letting you get away from him.’
‘Or perhaps you have no intention of letting George get away from you,’ James suggested.
‘I have no idea what you mean.’ Mrs Covington flapped her handkerchief in front of her face.
The captain offered Julia a conspiratorial wink. ‘Perhaps we can make it a double wedding.’
‘Oh heavens, who said anything about marriage?’ Mrs Covington hid a wicked smile behind the coloured silk.
Julia’s mouth fell open. ‘You mean she and Uncle George?’
‘Exactly.
’
‘How long have you known?’ Julia asked, still trying to take it in.
‘I’ve suspected it for a while, but she only just confirmed it.’
‘Oh, you think you are so clever,’ Mrs Covington huffed.
‘I don’t know if I approve of my mother conducting herself in such a fashion,’ James playfully chastised and Mrs Covington pointed one stern finger at her son.
‘In your present circumstances, you have no right to criticise.’
Julia didn’t know what to say after the stunning revelation, but then Daringford appeared in the distance, ending the discussion.
Hesitant anticipation filled her at the sight of the familiar rolling hills and river-etched valley. Though very eager to reach the altar, she had no idea what waited for them at the church. Mother and Uncle George would take the events of the last day with their usual detached demeanour. It was what Charles might say which worried her. Would he object to the marriage, afraid to entrust his sister and her inheritance to a man he might now view as a scoundrel? Or would he drag her up the aisle as fast as possible in an attempt to keep her and the family’s reputation intact? Either way, he was sure to cause a scene she had no stomach for.
‘What’s wrong?’ James asked. ‘Not having second thoughts, are you?’
‘I’m dreading another of Charles’s lectures.’
‘He has no cause to lecture anyone.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Haven’t you guessed about your nephew?’
The truth she’d somehow missed before hit her like a ton of stones. ‘Thomas wasn’t early. Charles and Emily, they—I mean, well, you know, it must have happened before they were married.’
‘According to George it did,’ James confirmed.
‘It explains why they were so quick to marry last February. I can’t believe I never realised it before.’ Julia sat back, shaking her head in indignant disbelief. ‘All this time Charles chastised me for my behaviour when he’d done so much more.’
‘The fallen ones are always the most puritanical.’ Mrs Covington sniffed. ‘You must stand up to him, my dear, for you will have to stand up to James. He can be very stubborn at times.’
‘Good, for if he weren’t I might not be so happy.’
‘We might not be so happy,’ he corrected, kissing the back of her hand. The gentle tickle of his lips raised a shiver of delight along her spine. She saw the wanting in his eyes, felt their heat spreading through her and lowered her head so Mrs Covington wouldn’t notice the burning exchange.
The carriage entered Daringford, slowing its mad pace and clattering through the narrow streets to the church situated on the other side. Her heart leapt with the excitement of being so close to home, but it was tempered by a new feeling. Though the familiar stone buildings were comforting, everything now seemed old and small. This place would never be far from her heart, but she couldn’t wait to leave it and embark with the captain on the next journey and adventure.
The carriage jostled to a stop in front of the church, the long shadow of the steeple falling over the churchyard. James stepped out, then handed her down. She was not two steps from the carriage when the church’s large oak doors flew open and her family rushed to greet them.
‘You made it.’ Emily threw her arms around Julia. ‘We were so worried about you. I brought your dress. You can change in the vestibule.’
‘Where are Charles and Paul?’
‘Inside, speaking with the vicar.’
‘Jim, I brought your other uniform, thought you might need it,’ George said before running his hand over the chaise’s high mudguard. ‘I recognise this coach.’
‘I thought perhaps you might.’ Julia laughed.
‘Hello, Captain Russell.’ Mrs Covington sat forwards at the door, meeting Uncle George with teasing eyes.
‘I see you’ve finally learned her name,’ he whispered to Julia.
‘You never could keep a secret.’
‘Hello, Mrs Covington.’ Uncle George held out a steadying hand and she took it, descending from the carriage, her eyes never leaving his. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, then led her to Julia’s mother, Emily and Annette. ‘Everyone, may I introduce Jim’s mother, Mrs Covington.’
Emily and Annette stood dumbfounded at the announcement. Only Julia’s mother maintained her usual grace and confidence, moving around the others to welcome her.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you. We are so delighted you could be here.’
‘I wouldn’t have missed it. I’ve waited a long time for this day.’
‘We all have.’ Her mother winked at George, who tugged on his cravat.
‘You made it.’ Paul bounded out of the church, washed and cleaned and wearing a fresh uniform. ‘The vicar is ready. And who is this?’
He bowed to Annette, who stood away from the group, doing her best not to be seen. A slight blush spread over her cheeks at Paul’s sudden attentiveness and Julia stepped forwards to rescue her. ‘This is Miss Annette Taylor, Uncle Edward’s stepdaughter.’
‘I’ve heard a great deal about you.’ Paul motioned for Annette’s hand, which she offered with her usual measure of grace.
‘Hopefully not too much.’
Julia noticed Annette’s lack of affected London airs, thinking the natural reaction suited her very well. Obviously Paul thought so, too, for he lingered over her hand.
Emily chuckled, breaking the spell. ‘Come along, Julia. The vicar will not wait for ever.’
Julia followed Emily and Mother into the church and up the dim side aisle to the vicar’s small room behind the nave. The musty smell of cold stone and smoke hung heavy in the air. Charles paced in front of the door, stopping at the sight of her. She cautiously approached, expecting anger but his eyes were soft, almost sheepish.
‘I’m glad to see you returned unharmed. We were worried about you.’
‘Were you?’ Julia ventured, noticing the tender concern in his eyes. She’d only seen it once before, when he’d comforted her after Father’s death.
‘Of course. I know you believe I think little of you, but I don’t. I’m only trying to help and protect you. Perhaps I’ve been going about it the wrong way. Mother told me about your bargain with the captain. I also spoke to Emily, who gave me quite a tongue-lashing for being so unsympathetic about Paul. I think some of your nature has rubbed off on her for she was quite forceful.’
‘She’ll need a strong hand to run Knollwood.’
He took her hands. ‘You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to.’
‘I do.’
‘Do you?’
Julia nodded.
‘Will you be happy with him?’
‘I love him and he loves me. Besides, I have a fondness for Navy men.’
He pulled her into a hug. ‘Then I’m very happy for you. You couldn’t have chosen a better, more deserving man.’
‘Thank you.’ She rose up and kissed him on the cheek, then slipped into the vicar’s room. Her mother helped her exchange the borrowed gown for the London one altered for the wedding. Emily instructed Mary on how to arrange Julia’s hair, then they stepped back to admire their work.
‘You’re beautiful.’ Emily smiled and Julia’s mother nodded.
‘I think the captain will be very pleased.’
* * *
Minutes later, Julia stood at the back of the church on Paul’s arm. The organist began a hymn, the church doors opened and the guests stood. Some faces she knew well, others were less familiar and she imagined a number of villagers and country folk had come to see for themselves the maid of Knollwood finally married.
Of all the eyes watching, she sought only James’s. He stood near the altar with Uncle George, his smile taking her breath away.
‘Are you ready?’ Paul whispered.
‘Yes.’
He escorted her down the aisle, offering her hand to James at the vicar’s instruction. The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur and she was conscious of nothing but the vicar’s even voice and James standing beside her. She thought of the fountain at Knollwood and her old longings. Standing beside a man who loved her and who she loved with all her heart, those days seemed liked a lifetime ago.
‘You may now kiss the bride,’ the vicar announced and James leaned over, placing his warm lips on hers. She met his kiss with all the passion in her heart, forgetting the guests and even where they stood.
‘Patience,’ Uncle George whispered, interrupting them and they broke into happy laughter, hurrying back up the aisle and into the soft evening light.
Outside the church, they received everyone’s congratulations, enjoying the festive atmosphere.
Paul approached, twirling her in a large hug. ‘I’m so happy for you, Sister. And you, too, Captain Covington. Congratulations.’ He held out his hand to the captain, who took it without hesitation.
‘Congratulations to you as well.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I paid a quick visit to Admiral Stuart while we were in London.’ The captain reached into his coat pocket and presented Paul with a letter sealed with red wax. ‘I rescinded my previous recommendation. Congratulations on your new posting, Lieutenant-Commander Howard.’
For the first time ever, Paul stood at a loss for words. He took the letter and opened it, a wide smile spreading across his face as he devoured the contents.
‘My own ship. I can’t believe it.’
‘It’s a sad vessel, barely fit for duty, but if you make something of her, you’ll earn a name for yourself.’
‘I will. Thank you. You won’t regret this.’
‘No, I don’t believe I will.’
Paul hurried off to show his mother his new orders and Julia threw herself into James’s arms.
‘Thank you. Though you didn’t have to do it.’
‘Of course I did. If it hadn’t been for Paul, you may never have come to your senses.’