Promises and Primroses

by Josi S. Kilpack

  The beautiful apologies Mother had offered hung in the air, waiting for Julia to decide if she could believe them after all. It was also her right to tell Mother to keep her concerns to herself, but her own curiosity was growing. Things had changed quickly between her and Peter, and she was mature enough to know that what lay ahead would not be easy. She nodded her permission.

  Mother let out a relieved breath. “If you are to enter into a formal courtship with Mr. Mayfield—well, any courtship with Mr. Mayfield—it is inappropriate for you to remain in his ­employ.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Mother opened her mouth, but Julia cut her off. “It is inappropriate for me to live under his roof, but not to remain in his employ.”

  Mother paused, then nodded. “I suppose that is what I meant.”

  “Arrangements are even now being made for me to stay at the vicarage. We shall court, formally, as you said, for a while before we have the banns read. We are determined to make this work only if it is a solid match.”

  “Oh, well, that is very comforting for me to hear.”

  “And your other concerns?”

  “I mean nothing personal against Mr. Mayfield, but the family as a whole has not earned itself a favorable reputation. If you marry Mr. Mayfield, you will be entering into a world of noblemen and society where such things matter a great deal. I only caution you to be mindful.”

  “I shall consider that.”

  Peter had told Julia the litany of scandals his family had been involved in, including his sister, who was in exile for her adultery and his cousin who was a rather flagrant rake in London. Julia had been shocked, but mostly because Peter was so very unscandalous. And, ultimately, Peter’s character was the only one that mattered to her.

  Mother seemed surprised that Julia did not ask for details but after a few seconds continued. “Lastly, I raised my children as best I could and as close to the expectations of the upper class as I could manage, but you were not raised to be the mistress of a house like this.” She waved her hand to encompass the estate at large. “Nor have you had the necessary training in regard to being a hostess, socializing, or preparing Mr. Mayfield’s daughters for their place in a world you have only been in as a servant. Mr. Mayfield will be the sixth Viscount of Howardsford, and his daughters will be presented at court one day. There are so many things about this world that are completely unknown to you, and I fear for your happiness if you find yourself at a disadvantage.”

  This was, perhaps, the most important concern, and one Julia had only thought of in the abstract. Anxiety built in her stomach as she considered it fully. She would have to rise up to a place she had never seen executed—even the Cranstons were not noble class, though she had at least seen some of the workings of the polite world by being in their home. She would be a countess! The solution to Mother’s fear, however, presented itself immediately.

  “You are right. I do not know the details regarding such a position, and I have a great deal to learn. Will you help me?

  Mother visibly started, her eyes wide and her eyebrows jumping up her forehead. “Me?”

  “You were a gentleman’s daughter,” Julia reminded her. “You have told me of helping your mother host events, being presented at court, and dancing until wee hours at balls in London. Who better to help me find my way in a world I do not know than someone who does know it and will not think ill of me when I ask for guidance?”

  Tears filled her Mother’s eyes and overflowed her cheeks. Julia reached her hand out, and Mother took it, holding it tightly. “I would do my very best to help you in that way, Julia.”

  “Thank you.” She paused, felt braver, and continued. “Things have not always been right between us, Mother, but I never doubted you loved me and wanted my happiness.” You simply could not believe that my course could be different from the one you had already chosen for me.

  There was a knock at the door, and Julia rose to answer it just as it opened slowly. Peter stepped through, and Julia felt her entire being lift at seeing him. He was smiling, but she could sense his wariness as he stepped into the room and looked from Julia to her mother.

  “Mrs. Hollingsworth,” he said, inclining his head. “I had not expected—”

  His words were cut off as Leah barreled into his legs, wrapping her arms around them so tightly that his attempts to catch himself failed and he tumbled to the floor completely. Marjorie began yelling at her sister, Leah laughed, and Julia hurried over to untangle Leah and help Peter right himself.

  That led to him assuring his daughters he was all right, straightening his coat, and then reaching for Julia’s hand. They turned toward her mother together, and Julia watched Mother’s eyes go from their joined hands to her face and then his.

  “Apologies for my uncoordinated entrance, Mrs. Hollings­worth.” He looked down at Leah, who had sat upon his feet with her arms wrapped around his knees.

  Julia really did need to work on this girl’s behavior. Even if she found it adorable.

  “I assure you,” Mother said in a soft and kind voice. “I am not the least bit put off by seeing up close how much these girls love their father.” She looked at Julia, her eyes glassy with tears. “I knew a girl who was very much the same, and I should never have wanted anything less for her than a man so much like the one she loved best.”

  Peter

  Peter stood at the base of the stairs across from Mr. Oswell, who was dressed in his full vicar regalia. Two dozen people stood behind them, awaiting the bride and her bridesmaids to join them, just as he was. He and Julia had chosen a short ceremony to cover the practical and legal necessities, then a wedding luncheon to share with their few but cherished guests.

  Mrs. Hollingsworth had been living at Mayfield House these last three months, who was staying at the vicarage, to help Julia learn the ways of navigating society and managing a household. Colleen had taken over roughly half of the care for the girls, allowing Julia to learn the additional tasks of her position as mistress of the house. It had not been easy or entirely smooth, and there would still be patches of difficulty, but, then, life could often be messy. Fortunately, most messes could be cleaned up with enough time, attention, and elbow grease.

  A hush fell over the quiet conversations taking place between the guests, and Peter looked expectantly to the top of the stairs. Julia was dressed in a champagne-colored gown, a bouquet of pale yellow flowers he could now identify as primroses in her hands. Marjorie and Leah walked behind her in white dresses and wearing laurel wreaths upon their heads.

  The image from my dream, Peter thought as he watched the procession move down the stairs toward him. He’d all but forgotten it, and yet here it was, revealed as unexpected prophecy.

  Julia looked nervous, her eyes wide and her expression saying loudly how uncomfortable she was to be the center of attention.

  He smiled at her encouragingly, not moving his eyes from her face until Leah whispered, “Hello, Papa.”

  The guests giggled, and Marjorie scowled at her younger sister. Peter put a finger to his lips and winked at his daughters.

  The procession reached the base of the stairs, and Lydia stepped forward to take Julia’s bouquet and then lead the girls to stand with the other guests.

  Peter took both of Julia’s hands in his and hoped that the onlookers were disappearing to her just as they were disappearing to him. He gave her hands a squeeze, she squeezed his back, and the vicar began.

  Amelia

  The wedding carriage left the Mayfield house at a quarter past one o’clock. Some of the guests left for their respective homes since the weather was fine—including both of Amelia’s other children and their families—but half a dozen guests stayed, which kept Mr. and Mrs. Allen and their staff busy throughout the day.

  Amelia helped to manage a cold supper and the preparing of rooms for the night, performing the tasks that Julia
would be doing in the future. Julia would do well here, and Amelia felt like the mother she always wanted to be, helping her daughter prepare for her new place.

  After supper, those remaining at the house conversed in the drawing room. Amelia quite liked Peter’s younger brother, Timothy, and had enjoyed meeting a few of the other prospects for Elliott’s marriage campaign. One by one, the guests retired until only Amelia, Timothy, and Elliott remained.

  Amelia was reading Peter’s copy of Paradise Lost while listening with half an ear to their discussion of mining rights currently being debated in parliament. When the topic was exhausted, Timothy stood. “I must be off to bed, Uncle, Mrs. Hollingsworth. I leave for London first thing and may not be able to make my farewells.”

  Goodbyes were shared, and then Timothy left, leaving Amelia and Elliott in silence. She tried to continue reading the book but could not concentrate. Elliott had visited several times over the last months, and they had been able to conclude that they had both done a good job with their past circumstances. It was a relief to say as much and believe it of Elliott, too. Amelia looked up from the book to find him watching her.

  “It was a very nice day,” he said.

  Amelia smiled, thinking of how happy Julia had been and the expression on Peter’s face each time he looked at her. What a heavy weight she’d have had to carry if she’d managed to prevent today from happening. “It was very nice,” she confirmed, closing the book. “How long will you stay?”

  Elliott looked at his shoes. “I am as yet undecided.” He met her eyes again. “I thought perhaps you might need help with the girls.”

  Amelia nodded with feigned gravity. “I am sure I will. They are complete terrors and far more than Colleen and I could possibly manage on our own.”

  “Oh, yes, they are quite possibly the worst children I have ever encountered.” He grinned, paused, and then spoke, but without the jovial tone. “You would not mind if I hung about?”

  Amelia shook her head and enjoyed the fluttering sensation in her chest. He was flirting with her after all these years. And she was flirting back.

  Though they had enjoyed one another’s company these last months, they had avoided any talk of their future. Perhaps because they had to make sure they liked these older and wiser versions of each other. Perhaps also in order to not detract from this marriage between two people they so dearly loved. But the wedding was over. Peter and Julia’s futures had begun, and Amelia had already decided not to stay much longer once Julia returned. The new Mr. and Mrs. Mayfield would need to define their new family, and though her intentions would always be good, Amelia would not be able to help inserting herself. Too much, as was her tendency.

  “I would not mind you’re staying at all, Elliott.” She set the book aside completely. “The moon is bright tonight, and the evening is mild. I wonder if you might be willing to escort me on a walk, to settle the nerves of the day and—”

  “I would consider it an honor.” He nearly jumped to his feet, then cringed and bent over to rub his knee.

  By the time she’d crossed to him, he had his arm out for her to take, and she did so, stepping closer to him than she needed to because she felt he would not mind. They left through the front door and followed the path that went around the east side of the house. They remarked on the wedding again, the meal, the weather, and then the people who had attended.

  “Your niece and nephews are quite engaging,” Amelia commented.

  “Yes, they are,” Elliott says. “I have seven nieces and nephews, you know, and am doing my utmost to see them all settled and happy with good families of their own. Peter and Julia are my first success.”

  “I know this already.”

  “Yes, but I wanted to make sure you did not forget. You have now met three of my next projects. It is important that you know I intend to follow through with my plan. Timothy shall be doing the pretty rather soon, I think.”

  She looked at him, his profile lit by the silver moon, the light reflecting off the gray strands in his hair. “I am still not convinced that your campaign is the right way to go.”

  “I assumed as much, but seeing as how it is my campaign, and it has been wildly successful thus far, I am not convinced that your opinion matters.” He winked at her. She chose not to continue the argument and faced forward once more.

  “And is Peter still ignorant of his wedding gift?”

  Elliott nodded. “The portfolio remains in my study at Howardhouse. I meant to bring it but forgot, seeing as how he gives it no attention whatsoever. Each time I suggest it, he tells me to keep it in the drawer.”

  “Will you tell me what it is?”

  He gave her a sideways look. “I am not sure. Can you carry the burden of knowing such a thing?”

  “I assure you I am perfectly capable—cross my heart.” She made an X over her chest.

  They had reached the circle yard, and Elliott led her to one of the four stone benches that skirted the round of grass. He brushed off the surface and then indicated for her to sit. Once she was seated, he joined her, then laid his hand on the bench between them. She looked at it a moment and then placed hers beside his, their little fingers entwining as they once had.

  “Peter’s was the hardest endowment to decide upon,” Elliott began. “He inherited from his father—though it was as much a burden as a bounty at the time—and then he is my heir as well, so he does not want for many things. He also lives below his means—very ungentlemanly of him.”

  Amelia laughed and Elliott continued.

  “However, I made a determination I think he will like, even more so now that Julia is a part of his life. There truly could not be a woman better suited for him.”

  Amelia nodded in agreement. “What did you decide upon?”

  “There is a man in Germany by the name of Arthur Steveltsorg. He is well-known for his canine husbandry, specifically with greyhounds. Should you ever want to know everything about this man, you only need ask Peter. He can talk about the man and his advances in breeding practices for hours. It is he who inspired Peter to procure his first pair.”

  “I am glad for the warning that Peter is passionate of this topic so I know never to ask.” She liked Peter a great deal, but the man could talk when the topic suited him, and they had spent many evenings just the two of them after Julia had returned to the vicarage. Amelia had heard more than her fair share of dogs and husbandry and puppy birthing. Julia was just as bad. The two certainly were a perfect match on that topic.

  Elliott continued. “Peter’s endowment is a trip to Germany, with his new wife and the girls, where he will stay with Mr. Steveltsorg and learn from the master for a month. They shall then get a pup from the newest litter after they return. I communicated with the man’s steward—which was not easy, let me assure you, as I do not speak a bit of German—and he agreed to the idea, for a price, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “I shall present Peter and Julia with the portfolio when they return. All I shall then need to do is pull the strings I have put in place to have it come together.”

  “They will be overjoyed, I think,” Amelia said. “The opportunity of a lifetime.”

  “You approve, then?”

  “I don’t care much for dogs myself, but I believe Peter and Julia will be beside themselves. Only promise me I will not have to go with them.”

  Elliott laughed. “I am sure Colleen could go as nurse so that you might avoid the unpleasantness.”

  Elliott looked twenty years younger in light of her praise. The breeze ruffled his hair and caught the hem of her dress. She bent forward to smooth her skirts, then righted again. The garden was lovely, with rows of primroses making up the boundary of the circle—that had been Amelia’s idea. She had missed her own gardens and felt no landscape was complete without the prim and perfect flower. When given as a gift it meant “I can’t live witho
ut you.” She’d given them to Julia, and Julia had then used them in her wedding bouquet.

  “You do not feel I am manipulating my niece and nephews by creating these endowments?”

  “Oh, I think you are absolutely manipulating them, but that does not mean it is a bad idea or that it is not incredibly generous.” She cocked her head. “You have truly given them everything, haven’t you?”

  Elliott lifted their clasped hands and kissed the back of her fingers. “They have given me purpose and joy. A man could not ask for much more than that.”

  “Much more?”

  He held her eyes. “There is only one regret I have regarding my actions these last thirty years, one choice I made that I have relived a dozen times in my mind.”

  “We have spoken of this many times, Elliott. Let us leave it where it belongs.”

  “In the past?”

  She nodded.

  “Because everything worked out just the way it should?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Everything has worked out just the way it should, perhaps even you and me sitting on a bench in the moonlight with life yet ahead of us.” She could hardly believe such words had come out of her mouth, and yet she felt them to the tips of her toes. She did not look away from him even though she was embarrassed by her boldness.

  He grinned slowly, took both her hands in his, and pulled her closer to him on the bench. “Mrs. Amelia Edwards Hollingsworth, will you forgive me my trespasses against you and allow me to spend the rest of my days making it up to you?”

  “Only if you can forgive me for nearly ruining Peter’s chance at happiness.”

  “Already forgiven.”

  She leaned forward before he could and pressed her lips to his, past and present and future mingling together in a kiss that was both new and familiar. Desire rose up within her to be with this man, to share his future, his life, and even his marriage campaign, which, so far, was off to a strong start.

  His hand moved to the back of her head as he returned the kiss with all the ardor of their youth.