Authors: Melanie Dickerson
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Christian
Later that week, while Julia continued her recovery, Leorah regaled her with a story from the day before, of how she had ridden her horse in Hyde Park and almost run down a somber-looking gentleman. He’d seen her coming and had sprung out of the way as if he were certain she meant to do him harm. In doing so, he had lost his hat, which went rolling into the path of an oncoming carriage. The man had been furious, accusing Leorah of being wild and completely without propriety.
“Truly, I was sorry to have caused him to spoil his hat,” Leorah said, “but he looked as if he could afford a new one. Besides, he had plenty of time to move out of my way. He shouldn’t have jumped aside so suddenly as to lose his hat. My horse wouldn’t have hit him if he’d only stood still. When he insulted me in that haughty manner, I ceased to feel sorry for him.”
Julia laughed quietly, and it didn’t even cause a coughing fit.
What would it be like to be Leorah, completely free and easy with her manners and behavior, unafraid of what anyone might say about her conduct, unfettered by society’s rules when they seemed silly to her? Julia had never felt free and easy a day in her life. She had always concerned herself with society’s rules, obeying and conforming so that her aunt and uncle would approve of her, paying the utmost attention to what she said and did to ensure she had the best chance at an advantageous marriage. And yet how little benefit it had been to her.
Still, Julia couldn’t quite imagine throwing caution to the wind and behaving like Leorah.
At one time, she had thought her decorous behavior was the only kind that would please God. But she couldn’t imagine God being displeased with Leorah. Leorah was kind and good and completely without artifice or ill will. She was energetic and didn’t always conform to polite society’s idea of how a young lady should conduct herself, but perhaps those things had nothing to do with achieving God’s approval. Didn’t God see inside a person’s heart and judge them for their thoughts and motives? God’s ways were not man’s ways. It was starting to seem obvious to her that polite society’s rules and God’s requirements were completely different.
Leorah demonstrated how the gentleman had walked across the street and picked up his hat, and the scowl on his face when he stared at it and then at Leorah. Julia was sitting in bed, propped up by pillows and laughing, when Phoebe burst through the door.
“Julia!” Phoebe cried. “Leorah wrote to us that you were unwell. Oh, Leorah.” She turned to Leorah and clasped her hands. “Thank you so much for taking care of Julia!”
Leorah said, “Julia was gravely ill with a lung infection, but she is much better now, as you can see.”
Mrs. Wilhern stood in the doorway. She did not proceed any farther into the room, and she had the thin-lipped look of disapproval that used to make Julia’s heart sink.
Phoebe turned her vivacity on Julia and said, “You do look a bit pale, Julia, but not so very sick.”
What answer could she make to that?
“You said the servants had all deserted her except the scullery maid,” Mrs. Wilhern stated, one hand on her hip and the other poised in the air by her shoulder, as if she were being fitted for a gown.
“Yes, that is correct,” Leorah said.
“The servants are all here now. I’ve just seen them for myself.”
Julia nearly gasped as her aunt questioned Leorah’s word.
“Well, Mrs. Wilhern,” Leorah stated, unintimidated, “that was not the case seven days ago when I found Julia here so ill she was hallucinating, burning up with fever, and without anyone to attend her except a kind scullery maid named Kitty.”
“Oh dear!” Phoebe cried, covering her mouth with her hand and staring down at Julia with wide eyes.
“She was quite alone, she and Kitty, until I discovered her plight and my brother brought our physician. Dr. Alcott was most concerned and told us that she was very seriously ill with pleurisy and a lung infection, and her recovery was by no means certain.” Leorah stared straight into Mrs. Wilhern’s eyes.
Mrs. Wilhern’s expression did not change, but she said, “I am concerned that the servants would vanish in such a manner and leave Miss Grey alone. It shall be dealt with.”
“I hope you will take note of the loyalty of Kitty.” Leorah continued to stare, unblinking, at Mrs. Wilhern. “She deserves to be rewarded.”
Julia didn’t think her aunt seemed at all interested in rewarding Kitty.
“Mrs. Wilhern, I’m happy you are here at last.” Dr. Alcott stood behind Mrs. Wilhern with his medical bag.
Julia could easily imagine how her aunt felt about him saying “at last.”
Her aunt turned to face the doctor. “Dr. Alcott. How do you do?” Mrs. Wilhern’s tone was cold, her eyelids lowered over her eyes.
“Very well, madam. Your niece here has had a very serious illness, but she has turned the corner, so to speak, and is recovering well now.”
“Her illness was serious, you say?” Mrs. Wilhern asked with a condescending look.
“Indeed. When I first saw to her, after Mr. Nicholas came and fetched me, had she not improved, I believe she could have been dead in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Good heavens!” Phoebe exclaimed. “And Mr. Langdon came and fetched you?”
“Mr. Nicholas found me at home and I came immediately. Which was fortunate indeed, for she had no proper servant to care for her. But Miss Leorah and Mr. Nicholas saw to everything, as you know by now, I’m sure.”
A momentary silence followed his speech. Then Mrs. Wilhern said, “We shall leave you to attend Miss Grey. Come, Phoebe.”
Leorah left the room as well, with a backward glance at Julia. She was biting her lip and her brows were lowered, as if she were fighting back a retort.
Julia forced back her own thoughts and answered the doctor’s questions.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
An hour after the doctor left, a knock sounded at Julia’s door, and Aunt Wilhern entered the room.
“I am pleased you are getting well, Julia.” But Aunt Wilhern didn’t smile or look particularly pleased. She stepped toward the bed, though remained nearer the door than Julia.
“Thank you, Aunt. I feel much better.”
“I want you to know that, contrary to what some gossips are saying, I did not intend to leave you alone to die in this house while we all went to Bath.” Her eyes were in their usual half-closed state, and Julia couldn’t tell if her aunt was looking at her or not.
“Of course not,” Julia said quickly.
“And I did specifically instruct Anna to stay with you and care for you until you were well enough to join us in Bath, for I never imagined you had more than the small cold that Phoebe had just got over.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t—”
“And since Anna deserted you, I have sent her away. She no longer works here. Kitty the scullery maid is to take her place in the kitchen.”
This would be a promotion for Kitty. “Thank you so much for rewarding Kitty in this way.”
“And she shall have extra pay for helping you while you were sick.”
“Thank you, Aunt Wilhern.”
“Phoebe and I are leaving now to call on Mr. and Miss Langdon, to thank them for assisting you and for sending for the doctor.”
“That is very good of you.”
Aunt Wilhern nodded and turned to leave.
A few hours later, Phoebe came in to tell Julia all about their call on the Langdons. Mr. Langdon had been on his way out, but when he saw them, he had stayed and talked to Phoebe.
“And you will never believe what happened.” Phoebe’s face was alight, her small eyes round and her mouth open.
“What?”
“Mother asked him and Leorah if they would promise to visit us this winter in Warwickshire, and Leorah said she thought perhaps she would be able to, and Mr. Langdon said the same. What do you think of that? And when he comes, Father will offer him twenty thousand pounds to marry me. I could be married before next spring.”
Julia’s heart skipped a beat. Would her uncle actually approach Mr. Langdon about marrying his daughter, dangling her dowry in front of him as incentive? Perhaps he already suspected—or knew—that Mr. Langdon was spying on him. Of course Uncle Wilhern would want him to marry his daughter—to ensure that he would not ever testify against him.
Aside from all that, it was simply amazing that Phoebe was content to have her father offer her in marriage to the man, referencing her twenty thousand pounds as an inducement.
Julia listened as Phoebe talked for ten minutes about how handsome Mr. Langdon was, about his height, his grace and presence on the dance floor, his impeccable taste in clothing, and what the other girls of her acquaintance had said about how handsome he was. In all her ecstatic ramblings, she said not one word about his character.
Because she didn’t know anything about his fine character, his compassion, or his sensibleness and sensibility. She didn’t know of his work at the Children’s Aid Mission on behalf of the poor. What would Phoebe say when she found out about that? And perhaps more importantly, Phoebe didn’t know that he was doing his duty to his fellow officers and his country by finding evidence of her father’s treachery.
“He told me how glad he was that you have me to talk to while you are sick. He said I must make you smile and keep you company as much as possible. Do you think he likes me, Julia?” Phoebe looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.
Julia shifted against the pillows behind her back. She cleared her throat and then reached for her cup of tea. “Of course.” She took a sip. “What else did he say?”
Phoebe looked disappointed at Julia’s answer. She frowned and then continued, “He asked me about my trip to Bath.”
Because he is polite.
“And he asked if we were coming to the ball tonight and said that he would be there.” Phoebe arched her eyebrows and smirked.
He was making small talk.
“And he asked about you a lot, what the doctor said yesterday, if you were still coughing, and if you were out of bed yet.” She frowned. “Sometimes I wonder if he prefers you, Julia. Mother thinks the same thing.”
“Don’t be silly.” Julia picked at the fringe on her dressing gown. “He was only being kind. You know how thoughtful he is.”
“Yes, but he did ask particularly about you, Julia.” Phoebe’s lips formed a pout.
“He knows how sick I was, and yet he hasn’t come to visit me, has he?”
“No.”
“Well, then.” Julia searched her mind to think of another topic. “You never told me much about your time in Bath, Phoebe. You said your cousins were well. How many balls did you attend?”
“I attended two balls, where I was introduced to so many people I could never remember all their faces and certainly not their names, and two dinner parties, which were tedious beyond belief. Even you would have complained. We went to a concert because Lydia insisted—you remember Lydia—but it was even more boring than the dinner parties, although you would have liked the concert, Julia.”
Yes, she would have very much liked to go to a concert or the theatre, but her aunt and uncle and Phoebe rarely went. Theatre was not to their taste, and Phoebe despised concerts. She said it made her want to scream to have to sit in one place for so long and not make a sound. And the music was never to her liking. Besides, music was made for dancing, Phoebe said, and simply sitting and watching the musicians play was excruciatingly dull.
“I did see Mr. Dinklage in Bath. At first I couldn’t remember who he was. Can you believe it? He seemed quite altered, thinner. He said he had been very ill himself. He also seemed pleased to see a familiar face. He didn’t know a soul in Bath and was only there because his mother wanted to take the waters, and she was in such poor health that she kept to her room. He did ask after you, Julia, but the look on his face was so wistful and pained. I do believe he will always regret you.”
“He will forget me.”
“Julia! It isn’t like you to be heartless.”
“I’m not being heartless. He threw me over for his mother.”
“Oh, Julia!” Phoebe laughed quite raucously. “What a funny thing to say! But I suppose it is true.” She shook her head. “He was never handsome enough for you.”
“I am sorry I flirted with him, poor man, but I don’t think I ever would have married him.”
“Oh, of course not.” Phoebe flipped her wrist in a dismissive gesture. Then she smiled as her mind caught on something more interesting. “The Langdons will soon be going back to their own country estate, and as soon as you are well enough to travel, we shall go home to Wilhern Manor. Then we will await Leorah and Mr. Langdon’s arrival.” Phoebe clasped her hands and squealed. “Is it not too wonderful?”
Julia merely smiled.
“But I am disturbing you, and you need your rest to get well. Do get well quickly, Julia, for as soon as Mr. Langdon leaves London, there can certainly be no reason for us to stay here.”
“Indeed.”
“What? I do declare, Julia, you talk even more softly now than you did before your illness.”
“I promise to try to be well as soon as I can.”
“Ah, Julia. You are so good to me.” Phoebe squeezed her hand. “I don’t know how I could ever do without you. Whenever Mr. Langdon and I are married, you must come and stay with us at least half the year.”
Phoebe was already skipping toward the door. “Rest well, Julia.”
As Phoebe closed the door behind her, Julia allowed herself to contemplate the contrast between Phoebe and Leorah. She had often thought the two of them similar. They were both full of life and energy and high spirits, but where Leorah refused to follow society’s rules because she found them ridiculous, Phoebe didn’t follow them because she refused to check her own recklessness. When she wanted something, she didn’t care whether it was appropriate or not. Wherever her impetuous emotions led her, Phoebe followed.
Leorah, on the other hand, though spirited and lively, was also sensible. Julia couldn’t imagine her allowing herself to throw caution to the wind and fall in love with a man who had shown her no encouragement. Leorah would marry sensibly—but for love—or not at all.
A few days later, having been informed that Felicity was coming that morning, Julia ventured downstairs and was sitting in the drawing room when her friend arrived.
“Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Felicity asked as soon as they were settled near each other and Phoebe had run out of the room to fetch something.
“Yes, thank you.” Julia pulled the shawl around her neck, as her doctor had cautioned her to do—to avoid exposing her throat to cool air.
“I wanted to be sure and see you before you leave for the country. Phoebe says you are all to leave as soon as you are well enough to travel.”
“Oh, I do wish you could come with us.” And she wished she could tell Felicity that she wasn’t likely to be going anywhere with the Wilherns, as her uncle would most likely be going to prison soon.
“But we are destined to stay in town. London is so dirty and disagreeable in winter.” Felicity sighed but kept smiling.
Felicity’s father had gained his fortune through trade and was still employed as a merchant. They had a fashionable house in town but no house in the country. Julia would have loved to invite her friend to visit her, but the Wilherns’ country house would be confiscated as soon as her uncle was arrested for treason.
“Perhaps you will be mistress of your own country estate someday and can ask me for a visit then.” Felicity smiled archly.
“That hardly seems likely at the moment.”
“Does it not?”
Julia eyed her friend. “What are you thinking of, pray tell?” Then she had a nervous suspicion that she already knew the answer.
“Did I not hear that it was Mr. Langdon who flew down the street after the doctor for you? That he stayed all day, pacing about, to hear how you were faring?”
“Did you?” Julia found herself breathless at the thought of Mr. Langdon so concerned for her.
“Now don’t turn pale,” Felicity said, starting to fan Julia’s face.
“I am well. But I believe you are mistaken, Felicity.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Mr. Langdon is believed to be Phoebe’s suitor.”
Felicity gave her a dubious look, raising her brows and quirking one side of her mouth. “After the way he spoke to you and looked at you when we went to the Children’s Aid Mission . . . I would not be surprised if he did not ask you to marry him very soon.”
Julia would not, could not, allow herself to hope for anything concerning Mr. Langdon.
A servant announced Miss Leorah Langdon at that moment. She came into the room with a bright smile and wearing an even brighter yellow spencer, which heightened the beauty of her dark hair and eyes.
Julia gave Felicity’s hand a quick squeeze of warning, hoping she understood not to talk anymore of Mr. Langdon.
Leorah greeted them both warmly. As initial niceties were being exchanged, Felicity asked, “And is your family well, Leorah?”
“Oh yes, quite well. No, that is not true.” She frowned a bit. “My brother has been quite ill.”
Julia felt all the blood drain from her face. Poor Mr. Langdon! Had he contracted her illness? Would helping her cost him his health, or even his life?
“Oh, I mean my oldest brother, Jonathan, not Nicholas.” Leorah smiled at Julia and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Forgive me for my carelessness.”
Felicity was grinning at her, and Leorah’s look was more of compassion. She said softly, “No one who knew Nicholas could help but love him.”
Julia forced a smile, her face still tingling as she determined not to dwell on Leorah’s words. “Shall we have some tea?” Julia rang the bell.
Phoebe bounced into the room, exclaiming in exaggerated terms her joy at seeing Leorah. “What a happy group we are!” Phoebe cried, clasping her hands.
Phoebe talked excitedly with Leorah, and Felicity leaned her head close to Julia’s and whispered, “Mr. Langdon will never love Phoebe, no matter how much she wants him to.”
Julia gave Felicity a horrified look, and her friend said no more. The tea was brought in, and Phoebe played hostess by moving closer to pass out the tea things.
Phoebe dominated the conversation, and Julia’s thoughts whirled inside her head. She remembered the expression on Leorah’s face, how she had looked almost sad as she had squeezed Julia’s hand. Perhaps she knew how Julia felt about her brother but knew also that her brother couldn’t ask Julia to marry him.
Besides, Julia had a legitimate worry, now that she was getting her strength back and her aunt and uncle were back from Bath. Her uncle would surely insist she marry Mr. Edgerton immediately. In fact, now that Mr. Edgerton had the special license—as she assumed he had already acquired it—her uncle could take her straight to the church on any given day and force her to marry the man at a moment’s notice.
“Don’t you think so, Julia?” Phoebe asked. All three young ladies were staring at her.
“What?”
“The roads to Wilhern Manor. They’re the best roads in that part of England. Leorah and her brother will have no trouble at all traveling to visit us this winter.”