Even reading the listing for himself, Michael found it hard to believe. He looked back up at Anderson. “Are we at a dead end, then?”
“Not necessarily. Since I was stymied working through the usual channels, I decided to try a different tack. I thought I’d see if we could find anyone who knew him personally.”
“I had thought of that,” Michael said, “but I haven’t had time to begin looking.”
“You might not have been successful, even if you had,” Anderson replied. “It’s difficult to find someone willing to talk to a complete stranger about a man who disappeared under mysterious circumstances nearly twenty years ago.”
“You make it sound as though they might have something to hide.”
“I did sense there were things the men at the insurance company were purposefully not divulging. So I asked an agent of ours in Plymouth to do some poking around. He’s known and respected by the seamen there. He found a man, a former employee with my company, who was a friend of Paul Bernay. His name is Charlie Stains. He’s long retired from sailing, but he helps run a home for old and invalid sailors.”
“Is he willing to talk to me?”
“I sent him a letter stating that we are doing personal research on behalf of Bernay’s children. He wrote back that he’d be willing to meet with you, although he can’t say how much he’ll know.”
“Sounds like a circumspect fellow.”
“Perhaps he is wise to be so.” Anderson pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Michael. “Here’s his address. He also noted that he spends afternoons with other retired men at the tavern on the same street, and that’s the easiest way to find him.”
Michael accepted the letter, reading it briefly before carefully placing it in his coat pocket. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help.”
“You’re quite welcome. I hope the information will be useful in tracking down just what happened.” As he walked Michael to the door, Anderson said, “By the way, I just received a note from my wife with news you might be interested in. The results of the university matriculation exam were posted this morning. That tutoring scheme was a complete success.”
Michael could not keep himself from grinning. To know there was hope for the school and a possible lead on Julia’s father were very good things, but the news that Julia had passed the exam was the best thing he’d heard today.
Julia stood looking at the long list of names posted on the board in the university’s administration building. More specifically, she was reading her own name, which she’d found among those in the first division. The passing scores were divided into categories of honors, first, and second. Although Julia’s scores had not been high enough for the honors division and the prizes, being among those in the first was a noteworthy achievement. She would receive a full report later, but for now it was enough to know that she must have done well in all subjects—including Latin—in order to make this grade.
“We will scrape by somehow, eh?” said Lisette, whose name was posted a few lines below Julia’s. “There are more prizes awarded after the first year. We’ll aim for that!”
“Yes, we will,” Julia answered.
She would take one hurdle at a time, living as simply as she could to stretch the money she had left. God had brought her this far. He would not fail to provide in the future.
“We shall have a big celebration tonight!” Lisette took her arm as they walked away from the board, making room for the others eagerly searching out their standings.
“It will have to be a simple celebration,” Julia countered. “We’re saving our pennies, remember?”
“Ah, but this is the best kind—free! Have you read in the newspapers about the big comet? It will be visible for the next few nights. A group of us is going to Hyde Park tonight to see it.”
Julia had read about the comet. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to view one of the wonders of the heavens. “Yes,” she said, nodding in agreement, “that is the very best way to celebrate.”
She would spend tonight admiring the handiwork of the One in whom she trusted.
The comet was every bit as spectacular as the newspapers had predicted. Its coma, or head, was bright, facing downward toward the earth; its long tail stretched upward in what looked like twin streams crossing the night sky. All around him on the viscount’s yacht, Michael heard exclamations of wonder, along with laughter as the guests tried to out-do each other in finding grand enough words to describe it.
To these sounds were added the pop of a cork as Delaford opened yet another bottle of champagne. For this night of comet watching, he had invited thirty or so guests whom he’d described to Michael as his favorite people. They came from an interestingly wide section of society, from members of the aristocracy and their less noble cousins, to prominent businessmen, writers, and artists. One elderly artist sat in a cushioned chair, sketching the night sky and exclaiming that he hadn’t seen anything this wonderful since the comet of ’53.
All of London was outside tonight. Many had come to the Thames in search of the best view. The river was nearly choked with traffic, and crowds lined the Embankment. From his vantage point on the river, Michael could see that the rooftop terrace of the Palace of Westminster was filled with comet-watchers. One had to be a member of Parliament or the House of Lords to gain access to that prime location. The viscount might have gone there tonight, but this party with friends had evidently suited him better.
Michael stood at the railing, a little apart from the other guests. The viscount approached him, carrying two glasses of champagne. He extended one to Michael. “You seem quiet tonight, Stephenson. I hope you are not one of those morose fellows who thinks a comet is an evil portent.”
“Not at all,” Michael responded truthfully.
He had been thinking of Julia. After his meeting with Jamie Anderson, he’d gone to the university to view the posted results himself. He’d done so at the risk—or hope?—of running into her, but she had not been there. He had read her name, listed with those who’d taken firsts, as proudly as if he’d been her tutor for years and not just a few months.
Was she outside tonight, viewing this natural wonder? If so, he was certain she’d be thinking of the Creator who had made the universe and everything in it. She would be celebrating her great achievement. Michael wished he could be celebrating with her. He also wanted to tell her about the new work he’d taken on. The trials for Myrtle and Gwen would take place next week, and he would be representing them. Gwen particularly impressed him with her humility and her zeal to “live right,” as she’d put it, when she got out of prison. He knew Julia would be overjoyed to hear it.
He accepted the glass from Delaford, then motioned toward the comet. “I suppose the sight has left me a bit speechless.”
“Speechless? An amazing thing for a barrister!” Delaford laughed. “Whereas they are finding too many words.” He indicated the other guests, who were still coming up with extravagantly redundant phrases. A luminous band of silver lighting the heavens!
Laura was among them, sipping champagne and occasionally taking a petit four from the table laden with food and drink. Clustered around her were members of London’s young and fashionable set. The viscount, indulgent brother that he was, had allowed her to invite her own friends. These included the Browne siblings. Ever since he’d met them at the theatre, Michael had noticed them cropping up at many social events.
Arthur Browne was filling everyone’s glasses with champagne. As Laura extended her glass for a refill, she noticed Michael looking at her. She fluttered her lashes, as though hoping to draw him to the group. Michael smiled in return, trying to send the message that he would join her soon.
“Laura has been having her fun this Season,” Michael said, hearkening back to the conversation he and the viscount had had last March. So long ago, it now seemed.
“Yes, and she’s even had a comet-watching party! Who could have predicted that?” Delaford took a sip of his cham
pagne. “However, I think it is time to settle her future. Over these weeks, she has caught the eye of many gentlemen, but if you still wish to offer for her, I will not hesitate to give my permission. You will have to talk to her first, of course.”
“Yes, I intend to do that soon.”
Michael had been putting off the conversation, although he knew it was not fair to her. With every passing day, he found it more difficult to consider marrying her. He’d spent plenty of time with her, attending social events, doing his best to recapture the commitment he’d once had to this match. All to no avail.
He could not stop thinking that things between him and Julia were not yet settled. He had sent several messages to the Earl of Westbridge, requesting a private interview, for he could do nothing until he knew his actions would not hurt Corinna or David. But the earl had retreated to his estate after the trial and had not been seen since. He communicated with Tamblin and Michael regarding legal matters via letters written by a private secretary, but he had not responded to Michael’s personal notes.
But even if Michael knew he’d never see Julia again, did it follow that he’d marry Laura? Was he being the worst kind of hypocrite, keeping Laura on a string as some kind of backup measure? That made him unworthy of any woman, and he was disgusted with himself.
“I will speak with her soon,” he repeated. But this time, he knew what he would say.
Julia was glad she had come out tonight. Hyde Park was alive with people, despite the lateness of the hour. Standing next to the friends she’d made over the past year, Julia felt truly blessed. She gazed up with wonder. The comet was brighter and far more dramatic than she’d anticipated.
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork.
Nearby, Colleen was chatting with Lisette. “Some say the comet is an ill omen. Perhaps some terrible calamity is about to happen.”
“Well, it won’t happen to us,” Lisette answered stoutly. “Today is a day for good news. Julia and I are on our way to medical school.”
“If it doesn’t fold,” Colleen said darkly.
Lisette continued as if she hadn’t heard. “I also learned today that Dr. Tierney will be moving to America. There’s a rumor the Royal Free Hospital stipulated she must leave the school or they won’t allow clinical privileges to the students. But I think Dr. Tierney was planning to leave anyway. I heard she wants to go somewhere more democratic. She’s fed up with the way the aristocracy runs this country.”
Julia cringed, knowing Edith heard this remark.
But Edith merely said, “I hear the libel laws are more lax in America, too. That should help keep her out of trouble.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Although publicly Edith had blamed her father for the lawsuit and sided with the school, her dislike of Dr. Tierney was palpable. Her stated reason was that the doctor’s manner toward patients was too abrasive, but Julia suspected that Edith was also offended by the things Dr. Tierney had said about her family.
Julia pulled Edith aside so they could speak without being overheard by the others. “How is your father?”
Edith looked at her like she was daft. “How should I know?”
“I hoped you two might make up, now that the trial is over.”
“You think I would go to him now?” Edith said indignantly. “Now that he has won the suit and the school is scrambling to survive?”
“It’s just that he didn’t look well at the trial. Aren’t you the least bit worried about him?”
Her question hung in the air for a fraction too long. Just long enough for Julia to see the same look of distress that had crossed Edith’s face when her father had been ailing on the first day of the trial. A look that contradicted her cold response. “My father has made his choices in life, and I have made mine.”
Julia said no more on the subject, but even after they’d rejoined the others and everyone’s attention was once more on the comet, she was still thinking about it. It was true that father and daughter had each made their own choices. But in Julia’s mind was born an idea to see if she could help them make some better ones.
Two days later, on a Sunday afternoon, Julia walked the road to the Westbridge estate. It was more familiar this time around. She prayed that her note, which ought to have reached Edith this morning, would have the desired effect.
Today the sky was clear, and the afternoon sun was hot. Dust billowed in the wind. She dawdled a little as she got closer to the main entrance of the estate, assuming Edith would have hired a dogcart at the station. Hesitating over whether to start up the drive, she looked to see if any vehicle was coming down the road.
She was almost too late. Edith had apparently not taken the train at all but hired a private coach directly from London. Afraid Edith might not enter the estate if she could stop Julia from doing so, Julia broke into an unladylike run. It wasn’t easy, but at least her practical skirt was not as restrictive as the more fashionable gowns.
Julia was still about fifty yards from the house when the carriage caught up to her.
Edith stuck her head out the carriage window. “Stop!” she commanded.
Julia did not stop.
Edith repeated the command, more forcefully this time.
By now they had reached the final sweep of the drive to the arched front steps of the mansion. They had also attracted the attention of a gray-haired gardener and his young helper, who stood up from the flower bed where they’d been working and stared at them in surprise. An old dog lounging near them began barking at the carriage, though he seemed too old or well-trained to chase it.
Today there was no need to knock, as their approach had been anything but quiet. The large door opened, and both a footman and a maid raced out to see what had caused the commotion.
Satisfied there was no way for Edith to back out now, Julia stopped to catch her breath, wiping her brow. She looked up to see a face appear at the second-story window. It was the earl’s.
It quickly disappeared as Edith got out of the carriage and stalked over to Julia. “What do you think you’re doing? I told you that you have no right to interfere in my life.”
“It’s for your own good,” Julia assured her.
“And just how will I be edified by listening to my father gloat in triumph, convinced that I’ve come back to beg for forgiveness?”
“Nonsense. He’ll be overjoyed to see you. Just wait and see.”
They didn’t have long to wait. The old man walked out the door and stood at the balustrade, scowling at them. “I see you have finally admitted defeat. I knew you’d be back.”
Edith balled her fists, preparing for an equally biting retort. Julia said quickly, “With all due respect, my lord, you knew nothing of the kind. You thought Edith was gone from you, and you were brokenhearted at the loss.”
“What are you doing here?” the earl bellowed. “I had you removed from my grounds once before, and I’ll be happy to do it again.”
“But I brought your daughter to you, sir. She didn’t want to come, but I told her you miss her as much as she misses you. After all, the two of you are all you have left.”
“I came because I knew Julia would spout all kinds of lies about me,” Edith said. “You won’t have to kick her off your property, because we are both going.”
She took hold of Julia’s arm, as if she fully intended to drag her to the carriage.
“Well, good riddance to both of you!” the earl exclaimed. “I can see you want to continue spending your time with hoydens”—he waved his cane at Julia—“and people who slander our family. Well then, go right ahead. It’s clear to me that I haven’t got a daughter anymore.”
Julia dug her heels in, refusing to budge. “That’s all you want, isn’t it? You don’t care if Edith becomes a doctor. In fact, you’re secretly proud that she has shown herself so clever and diligent that she could succeed in a man’s profession. You only fear that she will leave you alone. You’re afraid of dying alone. Especially now that your rheuma
tism has gotten worse.”
“Will you stop talking!” The earl shook his cane at her, but this unbalanced him. He teetered to one side and would have fallen had not the footman and maid been there to catch him.
“Father!” Edith cried, racing toward the steps.
The earl regained his balance, although he didn’t look entirely steady. He was still a forceful man, though, and his glare stopped his daughter halfway up the steps. “Don’t come to me now,” he warned. “Not if you plan to go away again. I will not stand for it.”
It was delivered as an order, but as the words died away, his expression as he looked at his daughter, standing just a few feet from him, belied the harshness of it.
Edith saw it, too. “If I thought anything that Julia said just now was true . . .”
The hesitation in her voice was plain. It could not have been easy to open herself to the possibility of further attacks from her father. Julia had seen Edith’s fearlessness before, as she went to the rougher parts of London to help people from all walks of life. Even in the way she tangled with the male doctors who would not listen to her suggestions. But what Edith was doing right now was perhaps braver than any of those things.
Julia held her breath, silently praying. The maid, footman, and gardeners also watched with intense interest. They must have been hoping for the same outcome Julia was, for each of them looked at Edith with warmth and sympathy. Even the dog, whom the gardener held unnecessarily by the collar, stood quietly, his head cocked.
The earl shifted a little, clearing his throat and readjusting his hold on his cane, although his eyes never left his daughter. “You are too much like me for your own good, my girl. Clever and pigheaded and proud—”
“Do you really think I’m clever?” Edith’s interruption, and the vulnerable tone in her voice, showed she was willing to keep pressing at this tiny crack in her father’s armor.
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