Jane sighed and continued looking. She finally pulled a fashionable dress from her own wardrobe and laid it beside Julia’s prone form. She held another aloft. “Which do you like?”
Julia shrugged morosely. They both looked stiff and uncomfortable. There were entirely too many bows and ruffles and doodads.
“You could be more helpful, you know,” Jane said.
“Then you would think I am agreeing to this,” said Julia, sitting up on her elbows.
Jane shook the chosen dress free of wrinkles and held it to herself. “Oh, Julia, look. This will look splendid with your dark hair.”
Julia scowled at her. “It will be too short,” Julia said.
“Perhaps,” Jane said, hanging the dress back in the wardrobe. “The Beresford’s will be at the musicale. They are both taller than you, and you got along quite well with them at the coaching inn.”
Julia scoffed. She barely spoken to either of them for three days on the coach ride and the younger Beresford was already betrothed to Jane’s own friend, Amelia Atherton. What was her sister thinking?
“The elder was quite personable I do declare, and will one day be an earl. Even if you lost the house here, he would be able to buy something lovely for you. I suppose that would be a possibility if you truly can’t abide The Baron. There are advantages to being a countess.”
“Did you not see how he looked at Lady Patience?” Julia asked as she unobtrusively kicked another pair of her favorite shoes under the bed where Jane could not see them. Honestly, if Jane kept going she would be attending the musicale shoeless!
“Well, there are others of consequence. What about the younger Beresford’s companions?” Jane frowned at another dress as Julia attempted to rescue it from her sister’s zeal. “Samuel Beresford is a Commander in the Royal Navy, and his father is an earl certainly some of the others in his company have enough coin to get on with.
Jane’s lady’s maid, who had come in to help, pulled another dress from the wardrobe. “How about this one, Mi’lady?” she asked, but Jane shook her head. “No. I know that one is too short,” she said “Try the violet one there. What about this one?” Jane asked Julia as she spread the skirt out for perusal.
Julia grimaced and Jane waved a hand. The maid put it away.
“In any case, Julia,” Jane continued as she searched. “There is hope that some of the gentlemen in Bath will have some property from their families, and even if they don’t they may be able to purchase a home in Bath. We have only to search them out. There is another naval man that Commander Beresford was meant to meet here in Bath.” Jane tapped a finger on the door of the wardrobe as she thought.
A second maid had come into the room do their hair, but Jane waved her away impatiently as she tried to remember the man’s name. “I heard Lady Patience speak of him. A Captain, I think although I don’t know at what rate. You know, a naval man might be just the thing.” Jane said, putting a finger to her chin. “He would not be home long to bother you,” she said tartly. “But there would be less money, Julia. A captain makes barely more than four hundred pounds per year. He could not afford to purchase your house, nor keep a proper establishment at all unless he had family money in addition to his military stipend. Certainly a stable would be a problem. Hunters could not be kept on that amount; perhaps not much more than a cook and a carriage,” Jane said thoughtfully. “But if you loved him…”
“I care nothing for horses or hunts. I am not extravagant, Jane. I only want my home, and of course my paints. But in any case, I do not think I would like a navy man,” Julia said. “Most are over-bearing.” The thought of a man like the outspoken Samuel Beresford as her husband terrified her, but so did the thought of being a baroness. In all probability, a navy man would want to live nearer the sea, probably in London. She wrinkled her nose. She did not want to spend the majority of the year in London. She liked Bath, although she could probably get by with a country home; if she lost the townhouse. The thought sent a stab of pain through her.
“Don’t scowl so,” Jane said. “There is no help for it. There are the Poppy brothers…They always come to Bath for the summer. They haven’t a title but their country house is not far from here. You used to play with the brothers as a child; do you recall?”
“I did not,” Julia said. “I played with their sisters, when they would have me.” Aside from the Beresfords the only boys she remembered from her childhood were the Gruger brothers, Godwin and Cedric.
She frowned at the dress Jane was holding up.
“Do you hate this one too?” Jane asked exasperated.
“No,” Julia sighed.
“James and Michael Poppy are both quite handsome now,” Jane continued.
“Jane,” Julia said, but her sister kept right on talking.
Jane turned and tossed the chosen dress, a diaphanous light pink, beside Julia on the bed. “Stop sulking,” she said. “Now, put that on and let us hope it does not want for a seamstress. I never went back for the fitting to have the seams taken in, so it should fit you. It was also a little long on me and it won’t matter if the petticoat hangs out a bit. You have that one with the roses embroidered on the flounce. If you need the length, that should do. I will have a seamstress look at some others so you have something decent to wear later in the week. I think yellow will look positively gorgeous on you.”
Julia knew there was no point in arguing. She would be going to the musicale because Jane had already given their regards, and otherwise Lady Charity would be disappointed. So would Jane. Julia did not want to disappoint Jane. In spite of their differences, she and her sister had always been close.
Still, she could not resist a small dig. “Yes, Countess,” said Julia.
Jane stuck out her tongue in a most un-countess-like behavior and for a moment Julia remembered what it was like to be carefree children.
“It fits like a glove!” Jane exclaimed when the last tiny button was buttoned. She smoothed the skirt and straightened the lace. “You look lovely. Look how the color brings out the highlights in your hair and the blue of your eyes.”
“It’s too short,” Julia complained pulling at the dress.
“Nonsense,” Jane said. “Any longer and it would be trailing the on floor. As you reminded me, this is not a ball. When we arrive, men will be lining up for permission to marry you and you can have your pick of the lot. Then you will not have to worry about losing the house or marrying Lord Fawkland if you do not wish to do so. Your new husband will buy your own house.”
“I do not want my pick of the lot, Janey, I want none of them,” said Julia, stepping in front of the glass to look at her reflection. She was no breathtaking beauty, but she did look neat and prim. Her eyes were large and liquid, but of course all of her was rather large. That was the problem.
“I have heard you comment on a number of men’s good looks when you, Lady Charity and Miss Grant are in a state.”
Julia flushed as she thought of the way her thoughts went when she saw a handsome gentleman. She tried her best to deny the wantonness her mother had seemed to leave in her soul.
“You are not blind to men. I know you do not wish to life as a spinster.”
“I would get a cat,” Julia retorted.
“A cat!” exclaimed Jane. “You want a cat instead of a husband?”
“Well, perhaps two,” she teased.
“Why all this fuss when it comes to a husband?” Jane turned her attentions to the collection of accessories. She flung fans and combs blindly on to the bed behind her until she had quite a stack. Her maid was hard pressed to keep up.”
“I do not think a cat shall ever tell me what to do and what not to do. A cat shall not betray my trust.”
“We shall find a man you can love,” Jane said softly. “A gentleman is much preferred over a cat, Julia.”
“I like cats.”
Jane scoffed. “I am sure you do, but a cat cannot own a house,” Jane said in her practical voice, and surely you do not wish to
remain a spinster?”
“No,” Julia said softly.
She could not tell Jane that she feared picking the wrong man, as her mother had. Her eyes were always drawn to the worst of them. Yes, brash powerful men frightened her, but they also excited her. If she let herself get swept away by a hint of fancy, she would end up in the very same scenario as her mother found herself. The sort of men she should be interested in, kindly respectable ones like her sister’s Earl, never caught her eye. No, like her mother, she secretly picked out the rakes.
She thought of the uniformed men she had seen from the carriage. She didn’t know a single thing about them, but that was the sort of man who made her heart beat fast, a well-formed man instead of a well-connected one. Her eyes always lit on the ones that were unsuitable and her heart raced. It was a flaw in her makeup. She was not the gentlewoman that Jane thought her to be. This sort of attraction was not the temperament of a lady. Perhaps her father was wise to this fact. Perhaps that was why her father chosen for her, but she had no liking for the Fawkland boy…no, not the boy, the man. She corrected herself.
“A husband is forever. If I do not make the right choice, Jane, I must live with that day after day for the rest of my life” Suddenly morose again, Julia flopped back down on the bed. The pile of accessories bounced into the air. “Oh, Jane, I would never want to be a spinster and a burden upon you and The Earl, but how can I choose? I am so frightened I will choose wrong.”
Jane stopped sorting and turned to her, a string of pearls in her hand. “You would never be a burden, and even if you marry no one and lose the house by the end of the summer, you are my sister. You are family and as far as choosing, that is why I am here. To help you.” Jane laid the pearls aside and helped Julia sit up. “Up, up,” she said. “If you lounge about in that dress, you will be a mess of wrinkles come time for the musicale.”
Julia groaned but sat up and straightened her dress so that it didn’t wrinkle. Her curls were like a dark lion’s mane around her head adhering to her neck in the midday humidity and sticking this way and that like a briar patch. Jane was glowing, a faint blush of pink on her cheeks that could have been painted there with a brush. Some women were just born to be elegant, Julia thought, but she did not think there were ever two in the same family.
“Here.” Jane came over to the edge of the bed with silver comb inlaid with tiny pearls and held it up to Julia’s hair. “Perfect. Now we will need a fan of course, maybe this one with the gardenias? I like the bright cheery colors, don’t you?”
So that’s the sort of flowers they were, Julia thought. She had painted them once, but never cared to find out the name of the flowers. “Anything you put in my hair is going to be swallowed up by it,” Julia grumbled.
Jane tucked an errant curl behind Julia’s ear, and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are beautiful; you are a Bellevue, and you will find a husband that makes your heart sing. This house will be all your own by the end of summer.”
Solitude and quiet, that is what Julia needed. Not the distraction of a handsome man with loose morals to lead her astray. How was she going to get through this summer?
“My own, yes. All alone, just me and this house and not a single other soul,” Julia said with a grin. “Though maybe if you ask nicely I will let you come visit on occasion. Or perhaps I shall just name my cat Jane… maybe Countess.”
Jane tossed the fan at her. “I shall get Jacqueline to do your hair,” Jane said.
Julia supposed if anyone could do anything with her unruly hair, it would be Jane’s French maid, Jacqueline.
Jane’s surety infected her. Julia looked in the glass, as Jacqueline worked magic on her hair. You are a Bellevue, she told herself. You will get through this evening, and the next days to come.
~.~
Chapter Five
Julia and Jane arrived at the musical just after the hour and the festivities were in full swing. The music had not started, but those gathered visited with one another over drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The heat of the day was already subsiding and the open windows let in a refreshing breeze. Charity’s mother, The Countess of Shalace bustled over with an effusive greeting for both of them. She turned almost immediately to Julia. “Charity tells me you are engaged,” she gushed.
“Yes,” Julia answered simply.
“Splendid, just splendid.” Lady Shalace replied brightly.
Julia looked for Charity. She hoped to be able to spend time some with her friends before being introduced to her betrothed, but she did not see Charity or Lavinia. No doubt Lady Charity was engaged in her hostess duties, but Lavinia was also not in sight.
Charity’s mother talked briefly to Jane about their travel to Bath and the availability of some eligible men at the musicale; Julia supposed Lady Shalace was thinking of her daughter, but she knew Lady Charity was in no hurry to marry. After a moment Lady Shalace excused herself to greet her friends Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Sullivan who had just arrived together.
Jane was pleased as a fox in a henhouse, a state due entirely to the numerous attractive and available gentlemen in attendance for Julia to peruse, even though the reality was she would probably still be forced to marry Lord Fawkland. Jane dragged her around to meet what seemed like every male in attendance.
Every time one of the men looked at her across the room, Jane gave her a knowing smile. “The gentleman are entranced, Julia,” said Jane. “You are the prettiest lady here. Why you could have a wealthy husband by the end of the evening and spend the rest of the summer doing naught but relaxing and painting. Does that not please you?
It would please her, but Julia did not believe the men were craning their necks to look at her rather they couldn’t help but notice her extreme height. Either that or they noticed her sister; the resplendent countess next to her. Julia refrained from comment.
Jane kept a running dialogue on who were members of the Peerage and not; who had houses in Bath and in the country. She knew titles and acreage, she even had a rough guess of servants employed. Julia wasn’t sure that Jane didn’t somehow know their very worth in pounds and shillings. It gave Julia a sick feeling in her stomach.
There was Lord Percival Beresford, the elder son of the Earl of Blackwood who was well connected and would one day be earl himself. Julia and her sister had traveled to Bath with his party, but it was clear to Julia that Lady Patience had laid claim to that one, even if her sister could not see it. Patience barely let loose of his arm for the entire trip to Bath and he did not seem to be bothered by her clinging. There was Lady Patience’s brother Reginald who would also one day have a title, and Commander Samuel Beresford, Lord Percival Beresford’s younger brother, but Commander Beresford had recently announced his betrothal to Amelia Atherton.
The Poppy brothers, Misters Michael and James, were both fit and comfortable. They couldn’t afford the townhouse, but they had their own country home close by. Jane reminded her neither had a title, and she reminded Jane that she did not aspire to a title.
She found Lavinia with the Poppy brothers along with Miss Flora Muirwood and several Poppy sisters. Julia would have gone to join them, but Jane spotted Godwin Gruger, The Baron of Fawkland, speaking with the musicians.
It seemed whether Julia was ready or not, the time had come to be introduced to her betrothed. It was a most queer situation. They were somehow betrothed through her father’s writing so he had obviously given his permission, but Lord Fawkland had not courted her nor had he asked her to marry. And she had not yet accepted, she reminded herself. Julia was not sure what to say to Lord Fawkland with the awkwardness of Father’s will between them. She wet her lips nervously as she watched the man look their way. It was as if he were somehow alerted to her speculation, and called over by her interest.
Lord Fawkland excused himself from the group of musicians and stepped languidly down from the dais where they had set up. He moved with purpose. Julia looked covertly at him trying to see some sign in his face of his feelings for her.
There was no indication of agitation or appreciation, but his lips held the ghost of a smile.
He glanced once around the room, a cool inspection; and then his attention was all for her. She felt herself pinned by his gaze. She fanned herself for something to do with her hands, forcing herself to move her fan slowly as befitted a betrothed lady. If only her mind could be as easily occupied as her hands. Lord Fawkland was, if possible, even more handsome than she remembered, and tall. He was definitely tall; at least she would not self-consciously tower over him. His long stride covered the distance between them in no time at all, and she realized she could look him in the eye, with only a slight upward tilt of her head. She quickly looked at her shoes. They were fashionably pointy-toed and somewhat uncomfortable, but they matched the pink of her dress. Oh, she looked like a candy confection. A rather large sugar flower she thought glumly. She bit her lip; terrified she would say the wrong thing and embarrass herself.
“Lord Fawkland,” Jane said with a slight curtsey. Her greeting pulled Julia from her thoughts. “You of course remember my sister, Miss Julia Bellevue” she said. “She was only a child when you last met I believe, but under the circumstances, I am sure you have much to discuss.”
Julia latched on to her sister’s arm. Jane was not leaving her alone with the man, betrothed or not. Of course, they were not really alone with all the people gathered to hear the musicale. Did Jane have to bring up that she had been a child when they had last seen one another? It was embarrassing. She was certainly not a child now. Couldn’t Jane think of anything more flattering to say?
Julia glanced up and found Lord Fawkland’s dark charcoal eyes pursuing her. She squirmed under his scrutiny, still feeling like that plump woe- begotten child. She remembered seeing him in his Royal Navy uniform and hearing his commanding voice. It was such a rich, deep voice like smooth chocolate and cream. It had been years since she last saw him. Heard him. She had had a tizzy of calf’s love at the time, but she was certain that the reason was his uniform: it was only the fine clothe of His Majesty’s Navy that turned her head. She always thought gentlemen looked quite dashing when in uniform. He was only the first of many a passing fancy. He was not special.
The Baron in Bath - Miss Julia Bellevue: A Regency Romance Novel (Heart of a Gentleman Book 4) Page 4