In fact, the last time it had been this bad was the day her mother had died.
But Julia didn’t want to think about that now. Her head hurt, her mouth was dry, and her wrists hurt from where she’d cut them. But worst of all, she had to face everyone. Charles especially.
Oh, God. This was worse than them finding out. To see her in that state? She had been so intent on leaving last night. Well, she would have no choice now.
The dowager would no longer want her as a companion. Charles couldn’t possibly care for her after such a display. Was it only last night he’d talked of marriage? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
The maid looked up at that moment and saw that Julia was awake.
“Oh, miss. I’ll have to tell his lordship. He said he was to be called as soon as you woke.”
She made to exit the room, but Julia called out to her.
“No, wait. Please.”
The maid turned to look curiously at Julia.
“Tell me, are the family all awake.”
“Yes, ma’am. They’re breaking their fast in the dining room. Shall I fetch someone?”
Julia could see by the girl’s expression that she was uncomfortable not carrying out Charles’s orders immediately, but she wasn’t ready to face him yet. She wasn’t ready to face any of them.
But the quicker she learned her fate, the quicker she could face the future and whatever that held.
“Could you help me dress?” she asked the maid. “I think it would be better if I were to go down and speak with everyone. His lordship won’t mind.”
The maid still looked unsure, but she wasn’t going to deny a direct request.
She helped Julia into her brown day dress then offered to brush out Julia’s hair. Since she was still exhausted from the night before, Julia sat at the vanity and allowed the young maid to brush out her curls.
It was only when the maid announced that her hair was pinned that Julia looked up. She was shocked by what she saw. She looked pale and unwell. Her eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles, and her complexion sickly, apart from the two bright spots now adorning her cheeks. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, and the bandages at her arms were terribly obvious against the dark colour of the dress.
Julia felt her eyes fill with tears, which was beyond ridiculous.
Was she really going to cry over how she looked after everything that had happened last night?
“Ma’am, are you sure you wouldn’t like me to fetch his lordship?” the maid asked worriedly.
“No, no. Truly I am quite well. I shall have my chocolate then go to the dining room.” Julia tried to sound more confident than she felt.
In truth, she would like nothing more than to crawl into Charles’s lap and beg him to take care of her, to make it all go away.
But she couldn’t do that. For one thing, if the family weren’t already planning on carting her off to Bedlam, they certainly would, should she start throwing herself into people’s laps, and for another, well, she wasn’t sure Charles would want anything to do with her anymore.
Julia quickly drank her morning chocolate, more to ease her throat than to even taste it. But finally, when she could do nothing more to avoid it, she left the room and went in search of Charles.
CHARLES KEPT AN EYE on the door from the second he’d sent the maid to Julia’s room. What could be taking this long? What if she wasn’t all right?
He hadn’t slept the night before, too afraid to doze off in case she woke and was frightened or overset again. His mother had assured him that the sleeping draught would see her through the night, but Charles wanted to make sure of it himself.
It had still been dark when he’d slipped from her room, but he’d known it was morning from the sounds of staff in the hotel starting to move about. The gossip, he was sure, would be quite bad enough without his presence making it worse.
He had been loath to leave her but was even more determined not to make anything worse for her.
But now as he sat there, listening to everyone make idle chit chat, he could feel the tension in every part of her.
“Surely she should be awake by now,” he said to his mother again.
“Dearest, like I said not ten minutes ago, you must give her time to recover. The draught Dr. Marshall gave her was very strong. Who knows how long it will take to wear off?”
“But she’s alone up there. What if she needs m— I mean, what if she needs help or, or—”
“Charles, Rebecca and I are going to go and check on her in just a moment or two. Please, try not to worry too much.”
Charles knew that Caroline was right. Sitting here worrying was doing no good. He also knew that he was making himself and his feelings more than a little obvious.
“We need to find out what happened. Who or what upset her so much and how to make it so it never happens again,” he said to nobody in particular.
“Of course,” Tom answered him. “As soon as we’re back at the Hall, we can start making enquiries. I do feel it is best for her to be away from Dublin and back in Offaly. She obviously felt safer there.”
“Yes, and there is no fear of her running into people like that woman last night,” agreed Rebecca.
It warmed Charles’s heart to see everyone so eager to help. They had all come to care a great deal for Julia.
It hurt him more than he would care to admit that her instinct when faced with trouble had been to flee. He would have preferred that she come to him so that he might help her. But then, he had no idea what she was running from, and until he told her how much he loved her, how much he wanted to gain her trust, how she could depend on him no matter what, he could not really blame her for not turning to him.
He waited impatiently for Caroline and Rebecca to finish breakfast and leave the damned room. To his mind, they were dawdling way longer than necessary.
Finally, when he’d about reached the end of his rope and was preparing to bellow at the pair of them, the door opened and Julia walked in.
She looked so pale, so distraught that it caused him physical pain. He wanted to make it better, even though he didn’t know what that was. His gut twisted as he took in the bandages on her hands and wrists, as he thought about the ugly cuts marring her perfect skin.
Charles rose from the table, meaning to go to her, but stopped when she raised a shaking hand.
JULIA BLUSHED EVEN MORE as the conversation died, and all eyes looked to her.
She wanted to avoid making eye contact with them all, especially Charles, at least until she got through her hastily prepared speech.
But her eyes were drawn to him, just like her heart, just like her soul.
She watched as he rose and took a step toward her, but if he touched her, especially in kindness, she would break down entirely.
So she raised a hand and was grateful when he stopped, though his eyes still bored into her.
“I-I wanted to, to apologise for last night. You were all so kind and — and that hasn’t happened to me in years. I had no idea it would become so—” She stopped and took a shuddering breath. Her voice was trembling as badly as her hands. And to her horror, she felt tears prickle at the back of her throat. “I’m so sorry. I promise it won’t happen again, and I understand that I have to explain. I just—”
Julia cut off again as the tears clogging her throat began to spill down her face. How could she stand here and tell them all? She simply couldn’t.
Charles moved toward her again, and this time she didn’t stop him. She wanted more than anything to feel his arms around her.
Julia kept her eyes trained on the floor. The carpet wasn’t that interesting, to be fair, but it was infinitely better than seeing anger or disgust or anything else in his eyes. He probably thought she was quite mad.
She felt his hand come under her chin as he lifted her face to face him.
Julia’s heart sped at the expression in his eyes. No anger, no condemnation. Just concern and tenderness.
“The pers
on behind all this. Is it a husband?”
“What? No. No, he’s—”
“You’re not married?”
“No.”
It seemed bizarre to Julia that of all the questions he could ask her that was the one at the forefront of his mind.
His voice dropped lower, and his thumb brushed softly along her bottom lip.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Julia couldn’t speak, so she nodded, her gaze still caught in his.
“Truly?”
She smiled a little at his persistence.
“Truly. But I need to tell you—”
Her words were cut off, then her ability to speak or even think coherently stolen by the feel of his lips crushing her own.
CHARLES KNEW AS HE bent his head to capture Julia’s lips beneath his own that he was sealing his fate and hers.
He couldn’t kiss the woman like this in front of his whole family without them expecting him to marry her.
And, yes, of course, he should have spoken to Julia first. Declared himself and asked her to become his wife instead of basically forcing her into it.
But he hadn’t been able to help himself.
His heart had damn near stopped when she’d walked in, and then she’d stood there, so frightened but so brave, apologising! Like she had a single thing to be sorry for.
The only person who would be sorry was whoever had done this to her, he vowed fiercely.
He’d wanted nothing more than to pick her up and carry her away. Away from prying eyes, from the explanations she felt she had to give. He wanted to protect her from the world. Save her from any and all pain.
But still had been the niggling doubt. What if she’s someone else’s to save?
So he’d asked. And he’d prayed to a God that he’d stopped praying to years ago that she would say no. No, she wasn’t married, and yes he was free to love her with his very soul.
He’d felt no resistance in her, even as he’d effectively ruined her. In fact, she’d wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer.
Charles felt his control slipping, but he clung to it for dear life. This, after all, would not be a spectator’s event.
“When you’ve quite finished, Charles, could you please unhand Julia?”
Caroline’s voice sounded both exasperated and amused.
Charles had no intention of listening to her either, but he felt Julia stiffen and then pull away.
She looked at him, and her face flamed. Clearly, she’d forgotten that they had an audience.
He felt rather smug about that, actually.
“Oh, dear,” she exclaimed softly, lifting her palms to cover her mouth.
Charles couldn’t be sorry. He felt a vast sense of relief that he’d let her know, let the whole lot of them know how he felt. He hadn’t said the words, but he knew what he was doing, and so did she.
He gave her a wide grin and wink before turning to face his family.
As expected, their faces were pictures in shock, though none of them seemed displeased. Except perhaps his mother, but she looked more disapproving than displeased.
“Really, Charles. To attack the poor girl as soon as she walks in the room. It’s outside of enough,” his mother said snippily, though she couldn’t quite keep the smile from her face.
“Apologies, Mother,” he said, not one bit sorry.
“Well, stop manhandling her and let her eat,” said Rebecca.
Rebecca’s laughing comment reminded him that Julia did need to eat and rest, so he smiled ruefully at her and moved back to his seat, but not before squeezing her hand gently.
JULIA SAT DOWN IN a daze. What on earth had just happened? Surely he knew what people would think. What they would expect. She stared up at him, and he smiled back as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who needed to visit Bedlam!
As a footman filled her cup, Caroline leaned over and squeezed her hand.
“Well, it seems Charles had made his intentions quite clear.”
Julia simply blinked at her, feeling far too shocked to form words.
“How are you feeling, dearest?” Caroline asked gently.
Julia knew she was referring to the night before, knew that her reasons for panic and fright were still very much real and needed to be addressed. But right then she couldn’t feel anything but a glowing happiness.
Charles hadn’t said he loved her. But to kiss her like that? In front of everyone? It must have meant something, and it had made her cares melt away.
“I feel fine,” she said, knowing that at that moment it was true.
“Well, we don’t want you to worry about today. You can stay here and rest, and we will make sure we are ready to leave this afternoon as long as you feel up to it,” Rebecca said, smiling kindly.
Julia couldn’t believe how wonderful they were all being. The gentlemen, barring a kindly greeting, were acting like nothing had happened, and the ladies had subtly turned toward her so that they formed a sort of circle round her, their backs to Charles, Edward, and Tom.
Julia felt her eyes well up again, but this time the tears were tears of gratitude and love.
They knew nothing of her past, but still they closed ranks, taking care of her, not judging her. It made her feel so grateful.
“I know that I need to explain,” she started again.
“Nonsense,” the dowager interrupted. “What is a woman without her secrets, after all? You can tell us as much or as little as you like.”
“Of course,” the countess agreed. “Now, after breakfast, why don’t you lie down and have a rest? And we will endeavour to be ready to leave as soon as possible.”
Julia felt a knot of sadness twist in her gut. It was her fault they would leave without new gowns. Her own fault that her plans for new gowns would come to nothing.
Last night she had been so sure that she needed to leave the dowager, leave Ranford Hall. Now, when she was thinking clearly, she wasn’t so sure.
It was a confusing mess.
“Please,” she said. “Do not leave early on my account. Indeed, I feel so much better now. I should like to accompany you to the mantua maker. I should like to finish our trip as we intended.”
The ladies looked at each other, worry etched on their brows.
“Julia, dear, you don’t have to,” Rebecca said.
“I know. But… but I should like to. If you do not mind?”
“Of course, we don’t mind. I cannot wait to get you a beautiful gown for the ball,” the dowager gushed.
The ladies beamed at her and began chattering away, much more animated than they had been.
“Edward,” Rebecca called up to him.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You shall have to cancel the carriages and inform the hotel that we are keeping our rooms for another night after all. We’ve decided to stay.”
“‘Tis already arranged, my love.”
“How? We’ve only just decided.”
“I didn’t change any of our plans.”
“But we told you to,” said Caroline.
“Yes, darling,” piped up Tom. “But then you tell us a lot of things on a regular basis, so we find it’s best to wait until the last minute before doing anything. Just in case.”
Caroline scowled at him but then smiled at his wink.
“He’s a scoundrel.” She sighed to Julia but sounded very pleased about it.
“Caroline, I-I would still like to talk to you and Lady Rebecca. I need to talk to someone.”
“Of course, dear. Whenever you feel like it.”
Julia smiled, feeling hopeful that things would work out.
“After shopping,” she grinned.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE DAY HAD BEEN a roaring success, thought Julia happily as they travelled back to the hotel.
She had never shopped so much. Never seen so many parcels. Between all the ladies they had accumulated quite a hefty pile.
/>
“You know we’re going to need another carriage,” Tom said though he had sounded more resigned to the fact than annoyed. Apparently, this was a rather frequent occurrence.
The men had decided to ride, and the ladies had all squeezed in to the carriage.
As it turned out, Tom hadn’t been wrong, and they had had to wait for arrangements for the transportation of their packages to be made before they could set off.
“We were incredibly lucky that Mrs. Chesterfield had so many gowns already made up,” Rebecca was saying happily. “Why Julia, you must have gotten three at least?”
“Yes, three,” confirmed Julia. “An evening gown that nobody came back for and two day dresses.”
“And the rest will arrive with the ball gowns?”
“Hopefully, yes.”
“Well, you’ve done extremely well. Your eye for fashion is exquisite. And between the new bonnets and spencers, even your old gowns will look beautiful when we return.”
The conversation had moved on, inevitably, to the ball that was only a week away, then to the family’s return to England.
Julia tried not to react to that her heart dropped to her feet. Somehow, she had managed not to think about leaving Ranford and returning to England. Ironic, really, since only last night she’d been trying to make a mad dash to France.
When they’d first set out, Julia had kept an anxious eye out for any sign of Mrs. Birch, but she soon realised that was ridiculous.
The woman had always been a night activity sort, never really venturing out in daylight if she could help it.
She had enjoyed her expedition so much.
The men had taken themselves off to Charles’s club while the ladies had happily shopped. And shopped they had! These women, realised Julia, had turned shopping into an art form, and she had come away with her coin purse considerably lighter and her wardrobe a lot fuller.
She couldn’t flee now, even if she wanted to. She only hoped that things would work out as she wished.
Mysterious Miss Channing (Ranford Book 3) Page 18
