Although she was not much of a horsewoman, she thought the gentlemen looked much happier outside of the coach. She admired the masculine cut of their jackets as they rode. She let her mind wander from one to the other, and although she was already warm in the close confines of the coach, she felt a familiar heat fill her face as she admired the form of one of the men who had loosened his jacket and stood in the stirrups to stretch. Ladies were not supposed to have such thoughts, she admonished herself especially not betrothed ladies.
She tore her eyes away, and turned back to the interior of the carriage where her sister was conversing with the other ladies of the Ton. Julia brought up her fan to hide her blush, but she also needed it to move the otherwise stifling air in the carriage.
Even her sister Jane’s normally perfectly coifed dark hair was clinging to her brow in damp ringlets, albeit neat ringlets. Julia looked like a wilted mess. Both Julia and Jane were brunettes, but that was where the similarity between the sisters ended. Jane looked like a Princess; Julia was more likely to be mistaken for a knight. Jane was regal, whereas, Julia was large and awkward both in form and speech. Jane was ever The Countess. She shined at parties. Her words were kind and men sought to please her; women to emulate her. Julia was blunt to the point of rudeness, and often managed to unintentionally insult someone important. Men found her uncouth and she found them overly filled with pomposity.
Unlike Julia, Jane had looked forward to this trip and time sharing a carriage with the other ladies. Julia knew the traveling party would be rather boisterous and she had dreaded the trip before it actually happened. The reality did not disappoint.
Now, Julia sat quietly in the corner of the coach, picking at a string on the plush upholstery while her sister’s friends talked around her. Julia would have liked to remain invisible, but it was hard to be inconspicuous when one’s breeding and stature was so obvious. Some said she was an unnatural Amazon. Julia towered above the other women, including her sister. It made her uncomfortable and self-conscious. In an attempt to alleviate this fault she shifted downward in the corner. At least she was sitting in the coach, so her monstrous difference in height was not so apparent.
Before they departed Julia had admonished her sister that under no circumstances was she to try to draw her into conversation with the other ladies, and Jane had reluctantly agreed. In polite company, Julia tended to make one gaffe after the other, so she tried to be silent. Jane was quite the realist and knew trying to converse with her sister in the coach would be a disaster. Julia would have nowhere to flee if she made some faux pas. Sometimes however, her tongue seemed to have a mind of its own.
Julia had only a sparse handful of friends herself due to the rumors of her birth, and was really only comfortable speaking with them. None of these friends were with her now, but at least she could look forward to seeing them in Bath – that is if this odious journey ever ended.
She turned her body towards the window and looked out of it again. They were now on the last day of travel, and Julia could no longer ignore that there was a reason for their trip to Bath, other than the summer holiday. The thought made her stomach tie up in painful knots.
When the conversation in the coach turned into a heated discussion over which man was more of a rake: Neville Collington, The Earl of Wentwell or Godwin Gruger, The Baron of Fawkland she wanted to sink into the floorboards of the coach, since Lord Fawkland, was the very man to which her father had so thoughtlessly betrothed her; the gentleman who caused her trip to Bath to be fraught with such anxiety. Though it seemed, according to the ladies’ gossip, that The Baron was less than a gentleman. Julia simply bit her tongue and blushed.
She could only hope the other women forgot about her entirely. She slid further down in her seat and wished she could disappear, but she was far too large a girl to even become inconspicuous, never mind invisible.
“I have heard that Lord Fawkland escorted a lady home in his carriage.” A blonde friend of Jane’s said. She paused for effect, fanning herself. “Without a chaperone.”
“It has come to my notice that this was not the first time,” the other lady, a pert red-head added.
Julia must have made some noise that drew their attention, for the first woman turned to her. “Is it true then,” The blonde asked. “Did your father truly betroth you to The Baron of Fawkland? The lady’s startling blue eyes were fixed on Julia and she found all she could do was murmur, “Yes.”
“Well, he is very good looking,” the blonde replied. “In a rather large and over-bearing sort of way. You must admit that.”
The second lady tsked. “Oh, dear, you know looks are not everything. The poor girl, how perfectly horrid.” She looked sympathetically at Julia. “Is there not some way around it?” she asked.
Jane shook her head at her friends, answering for her younger sister. “My husband, The Earl has his solicitors looking into the matter, but he suggested we go ahead as if it cannot be broken.”
Julia noted that mercifully, Jane did not go into great detail here amongst near strangers. “But perhaps it can be changed,” Julia murmured to herself. At least Jane had asked her husband to check into the matter, even if he offered little hope. Julia reached across and gripped her sister’s hand in thanks. Jane smiled at her briefly but offered no other encouragement.
Julia supposed that her father had planned with her best interests at heart when he made the arrangements for her after his death. Yes, he had left her with a last request, which as it was a last request, it was not a request at all It was a command. He had betrothed her to The Baron of Fawkland, Godwin Gruger, all unbeknownst to Julia, thinking he was a childhood friend. Without a doubt, this was prior to the soiling of Lord Fawkland’s reputation. Her sister Jane was initially quite elated that Julia would become a baroness, but Julia did not share her sister’s love for titulature.
Julia was not a social person. She could not possibly be a baroness. No. She did not want to marry The Baron of Fawkland. Julia and Godwin Gruger had never been friends, even as children. Their age difference had been too great, and Godwin thought himself already a baron. When his father died and Godwin had actually inherited the barony, he came home from the Navy even more cool and distant.
The one time she had spoken with him since Julia felt entirely out of her depth. She had never gotten on well with Godwin and now if rumor was to be believed he was a terrible rake. He had not changed from the wicked boy who had broken her dolls. For it seemed he was now just as careless with women’s hearts. Everything was wrong with her father’s decree. It was Lord Fawkland’s younger brother Cedric she remembered. Cedric was much more lighthearted, ever involved in some trick.
Oh why had her father not chosen Cedric instead of Godwin? Julia was nearly of an age with the younger brother, though she must have been about ten when she last spoken to him. Still she had played with the younger brother as a child when Cedric had invited her on his mischievous jaunts. He had even played tricks on the ladies who teased Julia on her behalf. Some of those, she now thought, quite cruel, but his older brother was over six years her senior and a stranger to her.
If only the words had not also been immortalized in her father’s will, an irrefutable document that sealed her fate. Still she clung to the hope that The Earl’s solicitors may yet find some way to twist the will to her favor, a loophole to slip through.
Julia had given the matter considerable thought. It was not as though she did not wish to honor her father’s dying wish, but the terms of the arrangement were entirely unfair, and she knew that if she had had but a moment to confer with him, her father would have changed the conditions. If her prayer could be answered, she would have asked, for just five more minutes with her father, but if that prayer would be so granted, she was sure she would not have used those precious moments to speak of her marriage.
She loved her father, and missed him terribly. Melancholy filled her. She sighed, uncertain how to proceed. Her father had always taken care of such things
for her, and although she had her sister to help her, Julia still felt bereft without their father. It was not her sister’s responsibility. Nor was it the responsibility of her sister’s husband, The Earl. She needed someone of her own. Julia wanted a husband, just not Godwin Gruger.
~.~
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The Duke’s Daughter - Lady Amelia Atherton: A Regency Romance Novel (Heart of a Gentleman Book 3) Page 21
