by Patty Deans
Julia chuckled. "And to what Hawkthorn bride had that message been sent?" "You...must be...the bride," the ghostly voice whispered, barely audible, yet it echoed in the room. Spontaneously the wispy mist twirled around and blended into the wooden panels of the room. A chill rose up her arms.
The words rang through her head, and her heart pounded. The mist and the voice were as clear in the daylight as in the darkness of her bedroom. Once more she read the Greek words. Why would anyone pretend to be a ghost? How could Robert be so sure that the Old Earl roamed the house? Did he hear this same voice? She stared across the room and saw only the wooden panels, no vapor hanging in the air, not even a trace of disturbance.
These silly thoughts of a wispy ghost brought a smile to her face while turning over the parchment for another message. But instead of a message she found a map of stairs. Hidden stairs? She gasped. If there were still such stairs in the manor, surely she could explore them. They certainly would not be as confusing or frightening as the Hawkthorn Manor's overgrown maze. Though the lure of the stairs tugged at her adventurous soul her eyes again caught an unworldly image floating in the corner of the room. She forced herself to turn away and forget the spirit.
Her mind immediately turned to the new earl's thorough kiss. The first time she kissed him, he had frowned. This time he kissed her twice and touched her in a way she should not have allowed. Yet, his kisses snatched her breath away, and she wanted to kiss him again and again.
With a shrug, she dismissed her wandering mind and pulled herself back to recording and stacking. At last, finished, she called Ellis and directed him to place the Greek and Latin sets on the top shelves. No need to aggravate James over those books when there were so many other matters which would bring the two of them into conflict.
From what Aunt Shredda and her step-uncle in the past implied, she doubted the new Earl of Hawkthorn would ever want to read Latin and Greek. Did he believe the pursuit of knowledge would interfere with his reputation of caring for his estate during the day and loving the ladies of the night? Why did that thought anger her now, when it hadn't while Aunt Shredda plotted ways to make her attractive to the new earl?
Julia laughed to herself remembering the morning when she crawled into bed with the dragon. The very moment she saw the surprise on James' face, she no longer doubted she could keep her promise to Robert. She wouldn't mind being the new earl's countess.
Aunt Shredda's strategy did not include Julia in bed with James before they were married, but without a doubt it pleased her to think of them married. Maybe Robert had developed persuasive powers. Julia wrapped her arms protectively around herself. Had Aunt Shredda doubted all along that Julia could manipulate James with an elaborate flirtation scheme?
***
Julia paced around the garden fountain building her courage to admit the truth to James.
"Lady Julia, the solicitor is in the library going over the accounts with the earl. They have sent me for Fogel." Ellis' voice quavered.
"I will handle it. Please send for Martin to come to the house and wait in the hall. I'm going to the library."
Ellis reached out a shaking hand and caught her arm. "Lord Jameson will be mad as hops. I am worried for you, my lady." Ellis hung his head. He had spoken of the new earl as if he were still a boy.
"Have faith in me, Ellis. He will not harm me," she said, though she had her doubts.
Julia never expected to see Ellis ruffled. She tried to reassure him with a smile as he released her arm. Though her heart raced, she spoke softly, "Lord Jameson's the earl now and will control his anger."
Ellis flushed, nodded his head and quickly departed.
Drawing in a deep breath, she threw back her shoulders, and marched toward the library not daring to hesitate lest her determination falter. She raised her fist to the old oak door, knocked twice, pulled the brass knob and advanced into the library before James had a chance to say a word.
"It is time I confess," she blurted out.
James and Mr. Jones stumbled over the chair legs as they hastened to stand. In stunned silence they gapped at her.
She stood ramrod straight, and continued, "Fogel has been dead for over a year. I have not lied -- he's been in town. He is buried there in the church cemetery. It started two years ago...when his hands began to tremble. I helped with the books. Martin learned to read, and he helped Fogel. Martin has kept the place running...better than it has since the Old Earl died." She took a deep breath again. "At least that is what the tenants say, and your father never objected. If there are any complaints or questions I'm here to answer for my actions."
Julia's heart pounded against her ribs before she spotted the Old Earl in the corner of the room. The old man grinned while swinging his cane close to James as though warning the new earl that he had better beware, that is if James could see the vision. Julia released a sigh as her heart calmed. The Old Earl was with her.
Mr. Jones cleared his throat and swung around to face James. "I've suspected, my lord. I realized Fogel's hands shook and he couldn't write. It seemed logical when he claimed he had it copied for clarity." The solicitor shrugged. "They have carefully protected Fogel for several years and Martin has proven to be very competent. The books have never been in better condition. The tenants achieve better profits every year. There is no discontent. Not even the little that the Old Earl occasionally ran into."
James looked from his solicitor to Julia and back. "Did you speak to my father of this?"
Stewart Jones took out a snowy white handkerchief and wiped his forehead. "I did. He insisted I talk to Lady Julia. Said she could handle any problem."
"She's barely seventeen!" James shouted. Anger sparked from his eyes. "When did she take over?"
Mr. Jones raised his chin. "Your father hated to think of money or tenants. He forever had his nose in a book translating. I don't know when but she is quite capable of -- "
"At thirteen." Julia interrupted, with a calm she was far from feeling. "I knew all the tenants and their children. I wanted them to learn to read. I helped Fogel, and he helped me teach the children to read. Mr. and Mrs. Martin always stood as my friends."
James and Mr. Jones stared at her. She felt like a ninnyhammer. If only she had worn a new gown.
James shook his finger at her. "How did you get the extra money?"
"Sold translations."
"Did my father know you were selling his translations to put roofs on the tenant's homes?" James questioned in an authoritative voice.
She clutched at folds in her dress unsure how much longer she could face James. "I didn't sell any that weren't my own. Your father and stepmother gave translations to me as gifts. They were mine. I had a right to sell them." She bit her lip and forced her tears not to fall.
The old solicitor came to her defense. "It has proved very profitable."
James nodded, slowly turning back to face her. "Did they ever know?" His eyes pierced her heart. Regret filled her for selling the gifts.
She shook her head while her trembling hands hugged her waist. "Most of the books I sold were children's stories by German and Italian writers. I translated them myself to read to Robert. I still have some of their gifts."
His eyes grew chilly. "It seems I'm greatly in your debt," James ran his fingers through his hair in a manner she had seen him use to control his temper in the past. "You will be paid for your sacrifice, of course."
"No!" She wrung her hands and her tears fell unheeded. The ghost moved closer and his swinging cane gave her a sense of protection. "It was my way of paying back my step-uncle for making my aunt happy and giving us a home. When my uncle died, my other uncle became the Marquess of Calatin. He had no use for his brother's widow and niece. The dower house hadn't been occupied for eighty years and was in a sad state of disrepair. The new Marquess of Calatin refused to repair it. Aunt and I were forced to seek shelter from distant relatives."
"Your aunt...a Marchioness?" James felt ashamed at his previous attitude.
"How did she meet my father?"
"My uncle, her husband, went to school with your father. Aunt was also a translator. It seemed natural she would fall in love with your father. I believe he loved her, too."
"London believes it a love match," James added in a sympathetic tone.
A heavy heart moved Julia to change the subject from her familial losses. "As for your tenants, they are my friends and I like being with them. They taught me things you do not find in books, my lord."
He raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"
"Money alone does not make one happy. It is in the sharing one's possessions and of one's self that is important. " She whirled around and left the room.
Martin stood waiting in the hall, his hat in his hand. "Do you need me, Lady Julia?"
"Thank you for coming." She spotted a footman. "Please announce Mr. Martin to James and Mr. Jones." She ran up the stairs to her bedroom swiping at her tears.
It was over now. Everything was over. How would she ever tell Robert she had destroyed it all? A lot of good that ghost did grinning like a silly cat while leaning on his cane. She dried her tears on a handkerchief Aunt Shredda had embroidered with her initials.
As she stared at her bedraggled face in the mirror, her eye caught the wispy mist form above her head. She glared at the Old Earl. "I have not destroyed anything. I have kept your precious Hawkthorn from decaying. What is wrong with Hawkthorn men?"
"James will understand soon, you will see. It is hard for him to understand how an angel can create miracles that would down a strong man."
"I'm no angel. That's nothing but downstairs gossip about me stepping in to help Fogel. Besides, I promised Robert to marry James, and I do not forget my promises. James offered for my hand, and agreed to marry him by special license. I will hold him to his promise."
The wispy image blew through the wall. She wanted to call the Old Earl back. She muttered under her breath, "Heavens, I'm no better than Robert. Dreaming dreams. I will marry James, even though he slipped into my bed while I cringed in fear behind the curtains. I gathered the courage to join him before daylight, and that is why he can't refuse me in becoming his wife."
***
After Martin left, James turned to his solicitor.
Stewart Jones held up his hand. "Before you speak my lord, I think you ought to hear me out. Lady Julia was raised to follow in her aunt's bluestocking ways. She only received praise for her academic accomplishments, which were many. The vicar tutored her along with Baron Handser's two sons, as well as his own two sons. These boys outstripped everyone in their ability to handle a horse or a team. Julia kept up with them and did better than they in the classroom. I know this for a fact, my lord, for I acted as solicitor for the Marquess of Calatin. His death brought his brother to power, and he is a cruel man. Julia had every right to be grateful to your father for his protection."
"But at the age of thirteen, she was too young to take on my father's responsibilities," James insisted. "How could any of you allow this to happen?"
"Lady Julia is clever. No one suspected the many things she did." Stewart shook his head. "She adored both your father and Fogel. Though two such different men would be hard to find."
James sighed and slumped farther into the leather chair next to his desk. "You are right. I should be grateful."
"Your father knew you would be a better earl. A finer man never existed, but he did not have an ounce of interest in his estate or his title."
James stared at Stewart. "I know. But Julia -- "
"You must accept Julia for what she is. She cannot be suddenly changed. Perhaps children will keep her busy. I don't believe she plays any instrument or sings, yet I think of her as an angel."
"I shall not try to judge her too harshly, but she must be reimbursed."
Stewart turned to the papers in front of him, cleared his throat. "Now shall we make plans for the future of Hawkthorn?"
James smiled at the old man. Try as he might, Stewart wouldn't make James accept a child for a bride or a bailiff. Instead, James had plans for Julia and they did not include her running Hawkthorn in any manner!
***
"Louise, I have the headache. I prefer to take my supper here in my room. Please be a dear and fetch it for me."
"Yes, my lady. I will bring it up directly." The older woman curtsied and departed the room.
It wouldn't do for Julia to see James or Mr. Jones until everything calmed down.
The next morning, she purposely lingered over her toilet until it nearly drove her maid crazy.
The clock struck eight, well past Julia's usual time to break her fast. At last, she courageously descended the stairs, and rushed to the little dining room adjacent to the kitchen. There she could look out the windows at the herb garden and watch the small, garden fountain gush water over the plants while she tried to make sense out of James' attitude.
Expecting to gain strength in a peaceful environment, she pushed the door open. James and Mr. Jones were seated at the table drinking their coffee. Had she waited another half-hour, the men may have departed for a morning ride and the little dinning room would have been hers alone. From the looks of his fitted brown striped wool tailcoat, beige breeches and black leather hessian boots, James was dressed for riding.
Both men rose as she entered. James rang and a maid appeared at the door, he said, "Please bring Lady Julia her usual breakfast." The minute the maid left, James waved his arm to a chair.
Julia nodded to him and Mr. Jones, then sat in the chair James had pulled out for her. "Good morning," she whispered.
Mr. Jones immediately sat. "Good morning, Lady Julia, we have been awaiting your appearance."
Inhaling deeply, she looked directly at James, momentarily forgetting she was not in charge. "I warn you, my lord. I shall stand for no..." She bit her lip to stop from issuing him an order. After four years of running the manor, it would take time for her to emotionally give up control to the earl.
"Why, Julia, I abhor seeing you in distress." He laughed, adding as she opened her mouth to speak, "You are looking quite charming this morning."
"Thank you, my lord." When she donned her latest light blue muslin gown with the fine printed overskirt she'd thought with satisfaction that anyone seeing her in it would be hard put to believe her ready to be tossed to the wolves. Besides, the blue color highlighted her eyes.
James put his elbow on the table to rest his chin on his fist. "Perhaps you can continue to warn me now."
"Oh, that." She peered into his green eyes, wishing he didn't look so disarming. "Well, I simply wanted to warn you not to undermine me for what I have done to build the estates income. I hope you will not demand the tenants return the furniture I have leant them either. They are quite proud that I trusted them with such valuable momentoes of past generations. I know you must do what you think best, but please consider the great strides Mr. Martin has made in working as bailiff in Fogel's absence. Things have been running smoothly. Another bailiff would probably confuse the tenants and the system we have worked so ardently at."
"You will be pleased to know that I have talked with Martin with regards to continuing on as bailiff. Since you taught him so well to read and write, he has more of a reason to improve Hawkthorn. A matter of pride, if you will." A dimpled smile graced James' features. He arched a brow, adding, "And now, Stewart and I are leaving for London shortly, and I was wondering if you wanted me to purchase anything for you there."
"No, my lord. I can think of nothing." She didn't know quite what to think of it. He had done an about-face since yesterday; besides, he was full of surprises today.
"Perhaps I could open the town house and you and Aunt Shredda might want to Christmas shop."
"It is only November."
James gave a knowing smile. "Your list might of course increase later."
"No, not that. Perhaps a few days in London would be nice. There are many places Robert has never seen."
"I plan to show London to Robert
myself," James quickly retorted.
Her heart fell at the thought of missing the young boy's excitement at visiting the city for the first time. After all, she was more familiar with Robert, having lived with him all his life, as opposed to James who was just beginning to come to understand Robert. Staring at her plate of ham and eggs, she did her best to keep her hurt feelings in check. Mayhap this was James' way of spending time with Robert, taking him to London.
"I'm sorry, Julia, I didn't mean you and Aunt Shredda would not be welcome to spend time with Robert." When she didn't look up, James swore, "Confound it! I want the boy to see London through a man's eye. He wants to visit Tattersall's. A lady is not allowed admittance there."
A laugh escaped her lips at the vision of her trying to enter the hallowed establishment. "You want to be a boy again. That's lovely. Robert will enjoy it."
James chuckled in agreement. "You may have the right of it. And may I remind you that since you are both my wards, I can have it my way."
"Of course." She would allow him this round. Perhaps Robert would appreciate seeing London through James' eyes. She suddenly felt hungry and returned to her plate of eggs with enthusiasm.
"Lady Julia," Mr. Jones interrupted her thoughts, "the books are in perfect order as usual. And Mr. Martin is pleased to be appointed bailiff and will be moving into the larger cottage very soon. It seems there are things that must be taken care of in the cottage first. A gesture, he assured us, meant to please his wife."
"That is good news. Thank you for recommending Martin." Julia raised the porcelain cup to her lips, tasting the black Bohea tea. "Did Ellis see you this morning, Mr. Jones?"
"Regarding the two books? Yes. "I will sell them if you wish, but there is no need."
The muscles in her stomach tightened. Naturally her independence was not a matter of concern to the solicitor, nor to any man. "It's imperative. The ram has been ordered."
