by Mary Balogh
Daniel was not interested in Julia. He had never understood her need to break free from restraint on occasion since he had long ago suppressed all such need in himself. And there was no one else among the five cousins who was quite right for her. Certainly not Malcolm.
“Malcolm,” she said, stepping up to him and touching him on the arm. He was very tall. A trifle too thin, perhaps, but thick blond hair gave him a claim to beauty. She had always been fond of him. “Would you like to stroll to the woods to see the bluebells?”
“I would, Camilla,” he said, looking vastly relieved.
Malcolm stammered quite badly with many people, but he never had with her. They had been playmates as children. The first summer after Simon’s death, when they had met at Primrose Park, he had sympathized with her and held her, and his own eyes had been not quite dry when he released her.
“We will let the children run and play,” she said, smiling.
“There is no harm in it,” he said as they strolled away toward the wood. “I like to see them enjoying themselves as they always used to do despite the fact of Uncle’s death and despite the fact that they are all grown up now—even Viola—and are expected to behave soberly.”
“I think Julia will see to it that they never do that,” she said.
“I admire Julia,” he said. “I hope she never allows people like Aunt Sarah to dampen her spirits. Oh, sorry, Camilla.”
“Mama is sometimes harsh in her judgments,” she said. She looked up at him with interest. “You want to marry Julia, Malcolm? Are you going to try to win her hand during this month?”
He looked a little alarmed. “I don’t think she would look twice at me, Camilla,” he said. “But I suppose I should try. My parents expect it of me and it is time I married.”
“Just because of your age and who you are?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I want to marry.”
“But it does not have to be to someone you feel obliged to offer for,” she said. “There must be many women who would love to marry you, Malcolm, and whom you would wish to marry.”
“But I would have to meet them and get to know them,” he said. “That is more easily said than done in my case. What about you, Camilla? Are you getting over your grief?”
“Yes and no,” she said. “I will always look back on Simon with regret. We had so little time together. But life cannot be lived in the past. Or it would be dreadfully wasted if it were. I am ready to live again.”
“And love again?” he asked. “And marry?”
“If I were to meet the right man,” she said with a smile.
“But he would have to be very special. After knowing Simon, I could not settle for less.”
“You will find him, Camilla,” he said. “There must be many men who would love to marry you.”
“There. Now we have flattered each other and made each other feel good,” she said with a laugh. “Should we pick some bluebells, do you think? Aren’t they glorious? But they will not last all the way back to the house, will they? I suppose we might as well let them live out their span in the place where they belong and look best.”
7
Nobody else had taken up Augustus's challenge to race up the hill. It was most wise of them, Julia thought as she collapsed, panting and laughing at the top. It was far too hot a day to do anything more strenuous than crawl.
“I wish you would not do that, Gussie,” she said, the crossness of her voice belied by her laughter. “How many times have I told you not to? If you are going to pass me, do it early enough that I will not get my hopes up. I shall go to my grave with the ambition of beating you in a race blighted.”
“I would let you win, Jule,” he said. “But the only time I tried that you hurled yourself at me, fists and feet flying, teeth gnashing, and tongue wagging. It seems I was a little too obvious about it.”
“I was ten years old,” she said, “or thereabouts. Perhaps you should try it again, Gussie.”
“No thanks,” he said cheerfully. “Your feet and hands and teeth are bigger and your tongue longer. Besides, I offered to give you a head start.”
She got to her feet and brushed herself down. “Let’s go into the courtyard,” she said. “I have just realized what a shocking display that was, Gussie. Aunt Sarah has probably swooned quite away, and Daniel is probably wishing that Grandpapa were still alive so that he could recommend me for a spanking as he always used to do.”
“No, no, Jule,” he said. “Be fair. He only used to tell you that you deserved a walloping. He never bore tales to Uncle.”
“Grandpapa would just have laughed anyway,” she said. “Oh, those were the days, weren’t they, Gussie? I wish we could have them back. Don’t you wish we could be children again?”
“Not particularly, Jule,” he said. “On the whole I prefer to be an adult.”
She sighed. “Well, that is where men and women differ,” she said. “Men grow toward freedom while women grow into captivity. Life is the unfairest thing there ever was.”
The others came straggling into the courtyard too after a few minutes. Only grass and a few stubborn mounds of stones remained of what must have been a bustling community in Norman times. But the shell was almost intact. A few round towers still stood among the battlements. And as always they were irresistible.
“Let’s go up,” Julia said. “I want to see the countryside.”
“What you want is the thrill of danger, Jule,” Augustus said. “You could see the countryside from the top of the hill.”
“You want the romance of it, Jule,” Frederick said. “You want to picture yourself as the lady of the castle gazing out at her lord’s domain.”
“The stairs are crumbling away quite badly,” the earl said, strolling toward the group from one of the towers. “They look even more dangerous than they used to be. I would recommend not taking the risk of climbing them.”
“Ah,” Stella said, “then we had better stay down here. What a pity.”
“I used to love going up there,” Viola said. “But I always hated coming down. The stairs are so steep and winding.”
“Gussie?” Julia looked at him eagerly. If anyone else had pointed out the danger of the stairs, perhaps she would have listened. Perhaps. But it had been Daniel.
“Yes, Jule,” Augustus said, squinting up at the battlements. “I know you can’t resist. Neither can I, actually. Let’s go.”
Julia was almost disappointed that the earl made no further attempt to stop her from going. She and Augustus went alone. The stairs, winding up inside one of the towers, fairly wide at the outside wall, narrowing to nothing at the center column, were indeed in bad repair. In one place the wider part of three successive stairs had crumbled away to little more than a heap of loose stones. They had to scramble up, using hands as well as feet. It would be very easy to lose one’s footing and fall and fall and fall. One would be dead before hitting the bottom. Julia shuddered.
“Oh,” she said, coming out into daylight at the top and flinging her arms wide, “this is wonderful.” She peered downward over the stone parapet to the courtyard below. “This is wonderful,” she yelled down. “You do not know what you are missing.”
“It is going to be devilish tricky on the way down,” Augustus said.
“We’ll think about going down when the time comes,” she said, and they strolled together around the battlements, gazing out over river and trees and fields into a hazy distance.
“Jule,” Augustus said.
“Ah.” Julia’s shoulders slumped. “Reality intrudes. I can tell by the tone of your voice. What did you think of it then, Gussie? Stupid, was it not? Grandpapa did some very foolish things in his life but this must beat them all. I thought I had lost you for good. You have scarcely looked at me since yesterday afternoon.”
Augustus coughed.
“Daniel is not in the hunt,” she said. “Even the lure of owning Primrose Park will not induce him to take me on. There never has been any love lost be
tween the two of us. And that is putting the case mildly. Freddie is a different story. He needs the rents. Daniel says he is dipped—is that the correct expression? The foolish man likes to play too deep. He says his debts aren’t bad ones and that he is fond of me. I don’t know, though. He is a rake, isn’t he? I don’t think I could share a man, even someone gorgeous like Freddie. But I am fond of him, you know. What do you think, Gussie?”
“I don’t think Freddie is the one for you, Jule,” he said.
“Don’t you?” She looked at him briefly. “I have not heard anything yet from Les or Malcolm. But has anyone ever heard anything from Malcolm? I don’t believe there could be a more silent man. And I can’t imagine Les’s being very interested in matrimony. Can you, Gussie?”
“Les doesn’t have the brains,” he said.
“For marriage?” she said. “Does one need brains for marriage? He is not exactly an imbecile, is he? Just a little slow. He gets where he is going eventually if one can just give him time. I am fond of Les. He is invariably sweet.”
“He would drive you silly with boredom in a week, Jule,” he said. “Or with impatience. You wouldn’t be able to bear a man who would not stand up against you.”
“No, I wouldn’t, would I?” she said. “What would you suggest then, Gussie?” She flashed him a smile. “You? Shall I marry you?”
“I think it might be a good idea, Jule,” he said. “We have always dealt well together, haven’t we?”
“Yes,” she said, “we always have, Gussie. But marriage? Can you seriously imagine us married?”
“I don’t see why not,” he said. “It must be an advantage to marry a friend.”
“Must it?” She frowned. “Kiss me, Gussie.”
“What?” He flushed.
She looked outward over the wall behind her and down toward the courtyard. “We are out of sight of everyone,” she said. “Kiss me.”
“Now?” he said, aghast. “Here, Jule? Shouldn’t there be moonlight and—and a-atmosphere or something?”
“No,” she said. “Only two people who are private together and who are considering marriage together. You don’t want to, do you?”
Augustus stared at her.
“Are you a virgin, Gussie?” she asked.
“Jule!” He blushed furiously. “Only you would even dream of asking a man something so—so absolutely outrageous.”
‘‘Well, are you?” she asked
“Of course I’m not,” he said “Good Lord, Jule, where did you grow up? In the gutter?”
“You are,” she said calmly. “I thought you were. You’re afraid to kiss me.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“You are blustering,” she said. “Actually it is not so much fear, is it, as embarrassment. I feel the same way. I can’t quite think of you as a man, Gussie. Not in that way. And I am not being insulting. It is just that you are more like a brother. The thought of kissing you quite puts me to the blush. Why did you want to marry me?”
“Because I’m fond of you, Jule,” he said.
She sighed. “Everybody and his dog is fond of me,” she said. “Except Daniel. But why in particular? Primrose Park?”
“I was thinking of you, Jule,” he said. “You need someone to look after you. I couldn’t do it without Primrose Park. We would have to live with Mama and Papa and I would hate that. But it was mainly you. Because I am fond of you and because I can’t see you being happy with any of the others.”
“Oh, Gussie,” she said on a sigh, “how kind you are. Oh, yes, you are. I believe you about your motive. And until now I really thought that you would probably be my best bet. But it wouldn’t work, would it?”
“We could make it work, Jule,” he said. “We could be content to be friends for a while. And as for the other...”
“The other is an essential part of marriage,” she said. “Not just for children, Gussie, but for—oh, for completeness of life. For emotional satisfaction. I want the other. But I should die of embarrassment with you. As you would with me. We cannot even face the thought of kissing each other. How could we think of—well, you know. It would seem a little like incest, wouldn’t it?”
He stared at her for a while. “It would rather,” he said eventually.
She smiled a little sadly. “I think we had better settle for being pals for the rest of our lives, Gussie,” she said. “Is it not a pity? It would be fun to live together at Primrose Park, wouldn’t it? To belong there. Just you and me. But we are not children any longer. And that other part of marriage is important to me.”
“Lord,” he said. “Don’t marry Freddie, Jule. No decent mama and papa will allow him within five miles of their daughters in London, you know. I don’t know anyone with a worse reputation.”
“But I like him,” she said.
“Of course,” he said. “He’s Freddie and we have known him all our lives. But your life would be hell as his wife, Jule. You would be better off marrying me.”
“We had better go down,” she said, “before Daniel has a head-of-the-family anxiety attack thinking we have thrown ourselves off the battlements. I wish he had not come, Gussie. The last several summers have been bliss without him, haven’t they?”
“He is a decent sort, Jule,” he said. “At least he can always be counted upon to do what is right and honorable. A woman could look for worse in a husband.”
Julia pulled a face. “I hope you are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting,” she said. “Ugh!”
He grinned suddenly and looked like the old Gussie again. “Actually,” he said, “I wasn’t. He might be a good catch for you, Jule, but I would have to say you might be a disastrous catch for him.”
“Oh!” She aimed a punch at his disappearing back and scurried after him along the battlements. The others were still down in the courtyard, most of them sitting on the grass. “I owe you for that one, Gussie. I’ll get you for it, you may be certain sure.”
Augustus only laughed and raised his hand to wave to their cousins down below.
He should have stayed down by the river, the Earl of Beaconswood thought. If he had not got up to answer Julia’s challenge, probably no one else would have done so except Gussie and perhaps Freddie. And Les, of course, if Freddie had. But everyone else would have stayed. And she would have come to no harm with Gussie. Or with the others, either. There was always safety in numbers.
But no, he had had to follow her as he always had. There had always been Julia at Primrose Park, from his early boyhood on. Always madcap Julia and his strong disapproval of her and his equally strong need to be there just in case she went too far one day and got herself into real danger. He could not explain that latter need. He never had been able to do so. It had only ever brought him anger and frustration. And contempt from her.
Freddie was stretched out on the grass, basking in the sun, one arm thrown over his eyes. Viola and Stella sat beside him, talking. Les and Susan had strolled over to where one low wall would give them a view out over the countryside on the opposite side from the river. No one else was pacing, worrying that she would lean against the parapet and it would give way from the weight of her body and plunge her to her death. No one else kept glancing at the doorway into the tower after she and Gussie had been seen to be making their way back down, worried that she would miss her footing on the stairs and come plummeting down to her death.
Everyone else was fond of Julia and not one whit worried about her, he thought, clamping his teeth together. He hated the woman and could cheerfully shake the living daylights out of her for putting him through this anxiety— again. As she had always done. Always. If there had ever been a tree in Julia’s path, it had been made to be climbed. Or a lake, it had been made to be swum. Or a horse, it had been made to be galloped at a neck or nothing pace. Or a dare, it had been made to be taken.
But she was not a child any longer. Or even a girl. Goddammit, she was a woman. A lady. The earl stopped himself when he realized that he was beginning to
grind his teeth, and strode over to the tower. They were taking altogether too long to get down.
He heard her giggles long before he rounded the bend in the staircase that brought him in sight of them. It was a nervous giggle, he realized then. Three of the stairs were little more than rubble, the light from a slit arrow window slanting across them. Julia was on the stair above the rubble. Gussie was on the stair below it, trying to coax her down.
“You can reach my hand, Jule,” he was saying. “I’ll help you. Trust me.”
“But I have no grip with these slippers, Gussie,” she said. “It was all right on the way up but not on the way down. And if I take your hand, I will come down with a rush and bowl us both over. I may just be stranded here for life. You will have to toss food up to me. I will become a legend.” She giggled.
“What is the problem?” the earl asked, though he could see very well what the problem was. Julia had frozen with terror and Gussie was not up to talking her down.
“Oh, dear,” she said and giggled again. “Here comes Daniel. Now I really feel six inches tall. I am stranded, that is what the problem is. My slippers are too smooth to grip these loose stones and I can hardly take a run at them with at least fifty more stairs spiraling away below them. Can I?” Another giggle.
“Give me your hand, Jule,” Augustus said, his voice a trifle impatient. “You can’t stay up there forever.”
“Oh, goodness,” she said. “I feel remarkably stupid. Go away, Daniel, do.”
“Sit down,” the earl said. “Sit down on the step behind you, Julia.”
“What?” she said. “Time for a rest? I suppose it makes as much sense as standing here.” She sat.
“I can’t pass you, Gussie,” the earl said. “The stairs are too narrow. How far apart can you set your feet and still maintain good balance?”