“I don’t think the treasure chest was the actual goal. I think the goal was the process of looking for it.”
She gave him a look of disbelief and then shook her head. “Well, even if that’s what the author intended, I still hate the book. What’s the point of an adventure if you can’t get the reward?”
He was about to tell her the adventure was the reward since the crew had learned to trust one another during the course of the story, but he thought better of it. The poor lady was unhappy with the book’s ending, and there was nothing he could do to change that. After a moment, he said, “Why not come up with a story of your own? Imagine the pirates actually getting the treasure. Then you’ll be happy.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Can I do that?”
“Sure, you can. It’s fiction. You can work things out however you want to. Just close your eyes and imagine the story ending with the pirates finding the treasure they wanted.”
She straightened in the chair, a look of hope replacing the sorrow she’d experienced just moments ago. “I’ll do that. I’ll create the ending I wanted.”
“Once you learn how to write, you can even make up your own stories that you can read.”
“I hadn’t thought of making up my own stories.”
“Well, now you’re thinking of it. Learning how to read will also help you learn how to write. This will be something you’ll probably get a lot of pleasure from.”
She smiled. “That does sound like fun. I don’t even have to wait until I learn how to write. I can make the stories up in my mind now. Then, when I am proficient at writing, I can put them down on the parchment.”
He nodded. “We’ll start on your next writing lesson after we’re done eating.”
She cheered with excitement and ate the rest of her meal.
***
Another week passed before Ophelia could walk on the ankle she had injured. She thought it was going to take longer to heal, but, as the doctor had put it, she was a quick healer. Her first order of business was to clean the entire cottage. While Julian had been good about doing the laundry ever since they had returned from London, he didn’t seem to notice things like dust and misplaced objects like she did. So, she decided to do that while he worked on a sermon.
The open windows let in the cool September breeze, making it much nicer as she worked. She hummed a tune she’d learned from Julian and wiped down the table in the kitchen. She supposed her next order of business would be to learn to cook. It didn’t seem like the meals Julian made were that complicated. Perhaps she’d make her first meal this evening.
She left the kitchen and went over to Julian, who was reading his Bible. His notes for the sermon were next to him, and the quill was in his hand, ready to add more notes. She could now make out most of the letters, and she recognized the simplest words like ‘the’ and ‘a’.
Julian looked up at her. “Did you need something?”
“I was going to ask if I could make dinner this evening. Now that I’m up and walking around, I should do more around here.”
He set his quill down and turned to her. “What were you thinking of making?”
“I want to start with something simple. What’s the easiest thing I can make?”
“Porridge.”
She grimaced. While she ate it every morning, she didn’t particularly care for it.
He chuckled and pulled her onto his lap.
Startled, she let out a shriek.
He kissed her. “You poor lady. All this time you’ve been eating your porridge without a word of complaint. I wouldn’t have guessed that you didn’t like it.”
“I’m used to eating it in the mornings. I just don’t want to eat it for dinner, too.”
“I wouldn’t, either. It’s always nice when you can have some variety.” Giving her waist a playful squeeze, he said, “If you want simple, cutting up some bread and cheese could make a meal. There are a couple of apples the sweet old lady at the parish gave us on Sunday. We could add that.”
“Would you be happy with something so simple?”
“As long as I’m eating it with you, I don’t care what it is. A simple meal with a good wife is to be desired above a feast with a contentious one.”
“Where did you come up with that?”
“From the Bible. It’s in Proverbs. And it’s true. It’s not what you have to eat so much as who you’re eating with. I’m very happy with you. I’d eat porridge for every meal if it meant I could be with you.” When she grimaced again, he added, “Fortunately, that isn’t necessary. You can cut up the bread, cheese, and an apple or two. That will be better than porridge, won’t it?”
“Yes, it would be better,” she said. “But I plan to learn to make things like bread and stew in the future.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to make those. A year from now, you might have a child, and if that happens, you’ll be so busy that you’ll wish you hadn’t asked to do so much around here. I’ve seen mothers with their children at the church, and they’re constantly fussing over them. It’s the fathers who often get to sit and listen to the entire sermon.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a child. They’re nice to watch during the service.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you telling me that you pay more attention to the children than you do to my sermons?”
“I get to listen to you practice your sermons during the week. I already know what you’re going to say.”
He thought over her comment and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. If I was in your position, I’d probably let my mind wander, too.”
“It doesn’t wander that far,” she assured him as she snuggled up to him. “I enjoy them. I might glance over at the children, but my focus is always on you.”
He smiled. “I like that.”
“Of course, I can’t make any promises if I have a child. I might have to fuss over the little one while you’re talking.”
“As long as it’s my child, I’ll forgive you.”
Laughing at the teasing tone in his voice, she said, “It can’t be anyone else’s child since you’re the only one I share the bed with.”
After a moment, he asked, “Want to try for that child right now?”
“Well, you were preparing a sermon. Should I really interrupt you?”
“I can pick up where I left off when we’re done.”
He slipped an arm under her knees, stood up, and carried her to the bedroom. He set her on the bed and sprinkled her face and neck with kisses. She tried not to squirm, but some of the kisses were so light against her skin that they tickled her.
He stopped kissing her and looked down at her in surprise. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m a bit ticklish this afternoon.” She ran her hands up his arms. “But don’t let that stop you. I want to be with you this way.”
He shot her a wicked grin and let his hand trace her breast and hip. Then he lowered his hand further and started to bring the hem of her dress up to her waist. “I know where you’re not so ticklish.”
Her heartbeat raced in anticipation. She loved it when he was this way during their lovemaking. It showed her that even if he had grown serious over the years, there was still a part of him that was playful. She’d hate to think the heaviness of his past sins had the power to destroy his passion for life.
He lowered his head to hers and gave her a sensuous kiss that sent shivers of delight all through her body. She couldn’t imagine responding to anyone else this way. Julian was the only gentleman she wanted to touch and kiss her.
His hand slid under her dress and then under her chemise. She parted her legs for him, eager to feel his fingers against her bare flesh. He caressed the inside of her thighs and then teased her entrance. She lifted her hips in silent encouragement for him to enter. He accepted her invitation, and she groaned in pleasure as he proceeded to stroke her core.
His mouth left hers, and he shot her a smug grin. “I knew you weren’t ticklish here.”
She might have chided him for his boastful attitude if what he was doing hadn’t felt so incredibly good. She lifted her hips further and took him deeper into her. His thumb settled on her sensitive nub, heightening her pleasure as he began the rhythm that would ensure her climax. And before long, he succeeded in his goal. She never knew whether she wanted the process to last indefinitely or to reach the destination as soon as possible, but she supposed it didn’t matter since they came together often.
He waited until she was fully relaxed before he removed his breeches and entered her. She cupped his rear end in her hands and worked with him as he sought his own release. She noted his moans, the way he felt as he thrust inside her, and the tension in his body as he made love to her. She loved all of it because she was with him.
When he grew still, she knew he’d found completion in the act. After several seconds, he collapsed on top of her. She held him tightly to her. His heart beat against hers. Smiling, she pressed her cheek against his and closed her eyes.
They remained in silence for a couple of minutes before he began kissing her. In no hurry to leave the bed, she returned his kisses. He loved her. She could feel it every time they were done making love, and he was so tender with her. How could she not love him in return? He was so good to her.
She didn’t know how long they stayed in bed, their bodies entwined as they continued kissing each other. But at some point, she became aware that he was growing aroused. In the past, when they finished, they wouldn’t come together until later, so she was surprised to note that he was moving inside her.
He made eye contact with her. Then, with a teasing grin, he said, “Doing it again will better our chances of having a child.”
She returned his smile and encouraged him to make love to her again.
***
The day was a rainy one when Julian received the messenger’s missive. He had just finished visiting a sick parishioner when he came home and saw that a lad who couldn’t be older than twelve was drinking tea in the kitchen.
“He has something important to give you,” Ophelia told Julian as she helped him out of his coat. “He was instructed to only talk to you.”
Curious, Julian took off his hat and wiped his boots on the rug before he went to the kitchen table. He sat across from the youth. “My wife says you have something for me.”
The lad nodded and took an envelope out of his pocket. “The gentleman told me I must deliver it to you in person. Otherwise, I would have left it with your wife.”
Julian took the envelope and saw that it was addressed to him. He tried to place the handwriting but couldn’t. “Who gave this to you?”
The lad shrugged. “He didn’t tell me his name. He just hired me to give it to you.” He finished the tea then set the cup on the table. “Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Roskin.”
“You’re welcome,” Ophelia replied.
Julian studied the envelope as Ophelia walked the lad to the door. A messenger coming out on a rainy day wasn’t a good sign. Then again, even if it had been a sunny day, this wouldn’t be good. This came all the way from London. Anyone making the trip would be bringing bad news.
After taking a moment to prepare himself, he opened the envelope then took out the folded parchment.
Ophelia set a fresh cup of hot tea in front of him. She picked up the lad’s cup but remained by the table as Julian read the missive. The contents of the missive weren’t much, but they didn’t need to be. The few words were all that were needed to hit Julian like a punch in the gut.
After a moment, he told Ophelia, “Jonah’s dead. His funeral will be in two days.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice soft.
Julian stared at the missive. If he’d known he wasn’t going to get a chance to speak with Jonah again, he would have made a stronger attempt at making amends with him. It was bad enough his father had died before he had the chance to talk to him, but his father had forgiven him. His father had tucked away a letter for him that the footman had given him shortly after he became a vicar. Julian wagered no such letter would be waiting for him from Jonah.
Julian cleared his throat. “We should make arrangements to go to London. Only pack black clothing.” Recalling she didn’t have many things that were black, he added, “And add some somber colors like gray and lavender.” Feeling tired, he folded the missive. “I’ll get the carriage ready for our trip to town.”
He tucked the missive into his pocket and gave her a kiss before he left the cottage.
Chapter Thirteen
There was a light rain on the day of the funeral, something Julian thought appropriate given the situation. Ophelia stayed at Marcy and Lewis’ residence, and this gave him sufficient time to think over what he would tell his brother, James. He guessed that James wouldn’t be any happier to see him than Jonah had been.
And he was right. As soon as James saw him enter the family’s mausoleum, he headed right for him. Ignoring the other gentlemen who’d come to pay their respects, he took Julian by the arm and led him out of the large granite structure.
“What are you doing here?” James demanded, his expression dark.
“I wanted to pay my respects,” Julian whispered. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“You’re no longer a part of this family. The moment you stole the family’s money and ran out of London with Didimus, you gave up any rights to attend this funeral.”
Julian glanced at the structure that housed their parents’ and Jonah’s remains. “All right. I won’t go back in there. But will you please let me make amends for the damage I caused?”
The line on James’ mouth tightened. “Jonah told me you came by to give him some story about how sorry you are. I’m not any more interested in having this discussion than he was. When you left, you gave up everything.” To emphasize his point, he added, “Everything.”
Before James could return to the mausoleum, Julian asked, “Can’t we just talk? I’m not asking for anything else. Not for me or for my wife. I only want to seek your forgiveness. That’s all.”
James rolled his eyes.
“I’m sincere,” Julian said. “Words can’t express how sorry I am for what I’ve done. If I could go back and change things, I would. If I could repay the debt I owe the family, I would. But I have no more than a couple coppers to my name.”
“I don’t care if you offered to pay back the money you stole. This might have been about money with Jonah, but it’s not about money with me. It’s about what you did to the family. After you left, Father was never the same. While Jonah and I worked hard to get back the family fortune, Father wasted away. He mourned for you every day. He should have been angry with you. He should have disowned you. But every day, he would stand by the front door and hope you’d walk back through it. No matter how much Jonah and I tried to reason with him, he wouldn’t give up on the hope you’d return home. He was never the same after you left. I’m only glad that Mother died before you betrayed us. It was hard enough to witness what happened to him.”
Julian had known his father had missed him, but the footman had never mentioned the fact that his father had waited for him by the door every day. He’d assumed his father had gone about his life but had chosen to forgive an errant son who’d made a mess of everything. “I’m sorry, James. I never meant to hurt him. I was so selfish back then. I didn’t think of anyone but myself.”
“I know you didn’t. And that’s why you are not a part of this family. Since the only thing that matters to you is you, then you can deal with yourself. I never want to see you again. If you happen to be in London and I’m nearby, stay away from me.”
James turned to go back to the mausoleum, but Julian jumped in front of him. “Don’t end things like this. It’s terrible enough to know I can never get a chance to do things right for Jonah or our father. I don’t want things to be like this between us forever.”
James shoved him away. Julian tried to reach for him, but James gave him a sw
ift punch in the jaw. Julian stumbled back, more in shock than the fact that he was hurt. He’d known James was mad at him, but he’d underestimated just how angry he was. Years and years of resentment had built up within him, and it was all coming to the surface.
James glared at him. “I’ll never forgive you. Not in this life. Not in the next. You want to do something for me? Stay away from me.”
James rubbed his knuckles and then strode back to the mausoleum, not looking back at Julian.
A feeling of heaviness weighed Julian down. There was nothing he could do except wait and hope James would change his mind. After he brushed his tears away, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat, lowered his head, and left the cemetery.
He spent an hour in prayer before he felt ready to face his wife and friends. He would wait for James. Perhaps he would change his mind in due time. Like his father had waited for him, Julian would wait for James.
***
Ophelia couldn’t help but notice how quiet Julian was when he returned from the funeral. Marcy and Lewis did most of the talking through the evening. Thankfully, Lewis had a tendency to ramble on, and he could do this with a variety of topics. Ophelia tried to do her part to respond, but she felt as if most of her comments came out as stilted.
But who knew if Julian was even aware of the conversation going on around him? For the most part, he seemed lost in his own world.
When she and Julian were finally alone in their bedchamber, she sat next to him on the bed. “What’s troubling you?” she asked as she put her hand on his back. “You haven’t been the same since you came back from the funeral.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “When a person is young and selfish, he doesn’t realize how much his actions will have lasting ramifications. He just assumes that everyone around him will go on as if nothing happened.” He looked at her. “It’s a terrible burden to bear when you realize you’ve destroyed the people you were supposed to love.”
The Wedding Pact (Marriage by Fairytale Book 3) Page 13
