Lost Soul (War of Destiny Book 1)

by Theresa Van Spankeren

  “Hello. I believe you’re my future sister-in-law,” he said. His voice was gentle.

  “Hello Damien. You can call me Julia,” I answered. Other people began to fill up the room, each viewing my mother’s body in the casket as I did a bit later, saying my final goodbye before too many other people crowded in. I spoke with my other relatives and friends who came, but mostly I stayed in a quiet corner with Crystal, Anna, and Damien.

  Crystal and Damien informed me that marriage had first been considered a week or so previously. They had begun a courtship on their own and amazingly Father had approved of it. His final consent had come late last night. I could tell they were in love, and that made me happy for my sister. Damien was seven years older than Crystal, which meant he was twenty-one. I observed him carefully, and saw only kindness and gentleness. I came to the conclusion that Crystal would be safe with him. After all, it had been my sister who had warned me about Gregory; she could obviously sense people’s characters.

  Damien leaned forward. “Julia? Do you love your husband?” he asked. The boldness of his question shocked me.

  “I . . . Damien, Gregory and I did not marry for love,” I stammered in response. “It was my parent’s choice. Is that not how most marriages are arranged? One marries, and hopes that love will come eventually.” I was relieved that my reply, though it did not seem to satisfy him, discouraged him from asking further personal questions.

  It was near the end of the viewing that I saw them enter the room. Adam, Thomas, and three of their younger siblings made their way to the front of the room, all dressed in the darkest gray clothing possible and sprigs of rosemary. They spoke to my father and Peter, before pausing by the casket with my dear mother’s body.

  I turned my head to look for Gregory, worried that he might recognize Adam from the spectacle in the village several days earlier. I didn’t immediately see my husband, but remained nervous as Adam and the others approached Crystal and me.

  When they reached us, the older boys, Adam and Thomas, both made a slight bow, and their younger sister a little curtsy. “Miss Crystal, Miss, Julia, please accept our condolences. Your mother was a kind and generous woman and will be greatly missed,” Adam said.

  “Thank you,” Crystal said. Adam nodded and turned his gaze to me.

  “Mother sends her condolences as well. She had hoped to come as well, but she was too ill,” Thomas said.

  Adam’s eyes still hadn’t left mine. “I’m so sorry, Julia,” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, thank you Adam. I am glad you and your siblings could come,” I answered.

  “Adam, we really should return to Mother,” Thomas said with a slight frown.

  “My brother is right. Farewell,” Adam said. I watched them leave together and worried again when Adam looked back at me over his shoulder.

  ***

  Later, the entire family, including Damien, was at the cemetery, listening to the service. It was a normal funeral proceeding, with passages read from the Bible and a few words said about my mother. When my mother’s body in the casket was lowered into the ground, the finality of her death became inescapable. But I again willed myself not to cry in front of those of my family who had wounded me. There would be time for tears when I was alone.

  Gregory and I did not speak as the carriage took us home. The silence continued through the supper our cook served. I ate very little, instead eying my husband nervously. There seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face since we returned home.

  After the food was taken away and we were sitting in the parlor, Gregory broke the silence. “Imagine my surprise, Juliana, when I recognized the peasant boy who ‘accosted’ you in the market at your mother’s wake. I was further surprised to discover he is the brother of the rogue who brought you home all those months ago.” He glared at me. “What was really going on that day in the market, Juliana?”

  “Gregory, he pulled me aside to ask about Mother. I did not want to anger you, so I slapped him and ran away.”

  “Do you fancy him?”

  I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. “No!” I cried, afraid what he would do if I admitted the truth. I clasped my trembling hands and repeated, “No.”

  “It seems he fancies you.”

  “What gives you that idea?” I hoped my fear was not evident in my eyes.

  “I saw the way he looked at you, Juliana!” he snapped and got to his feet.

  I also stood, backing away from him. “I do not know what you mean, Gregory. We played together when we were children. That is all.”

  My husband stared at me with eyes narrowed. He closed the distance between us and grabbed my left arm.

  I gasped, paralyzed with fear. I felt utterly unable to bear another beating at that moment. “Gregory,” I whimpered.

  “You are mine, Juliana. Do not forget that,” he growled and crushed my lips with his own.

  Startled, I pushed against him weakly. “Gregory, please! Not here where the servants can see!”

  He pulled back slightly, but grabbed the back of my head and pressed his lips to mine again. “It is time for bed, Juliana,” he said and released me.

  “No, please not tonight, Gregory. I just buried my mother!”

  “Mourn your mother in your own time, Juliana. I need my woman— and an heir,” he said. He reached out and trailed a hand down my neck and over my bodice.

  Heat flooded my cheeks as I once more pleaded, “She was just buried hours ago. Please, allow me to mourn tonight.”

  A scowl once again crossed his face. “Is it grief, Juliana, or do you merely wish it were someone else’s lips on yours?”

  My breath hitched a moment at his suggestion. I was afraid to attempt to dissuade him again. “No, of course not. I am yours,” I sighed.

  Gregory grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs into our bedroom.

  ***

  Several hours later, I sat in front of the window, staring out into the darkness. I cried softly, but Gregory did not wake to the sound. My sweet, loving mother was gone! I would never again see her gentle smile, or hear her kind words of wisdom.

  No new bruises graced my face, but other parts of my body ached terribly. I wondered if my mother had suffered from this pain when she lay with my father. Will my sister suffer this agony when she lies with her new husband? No, I thought, Damien would probably be gentler with her. Or was I doing something wrong?

  I tried to remember what my mother said about these things, but I could recall no words from her on the subject. Had she ever spoken of it before I left her care and my father’s house? I couldn’t remember. Fresh tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.

  Chapter 5

  A few weeks before my seventeenth birthday I discovered something truly remarkable. I was with child. I thought it was a miracle my unborn baby had survived the last beating Gregory had put me through. And it had, according to the time frame the midwife gave me and her estimation of the time of birth.

  I avoided Adam assiduously. I rarely went to the market, and if I did, it was in the early evening hours just as the sun was setting, when I knew he was least likely to be working. I didn’t want to answer questions, nor did I want him to know I was with child. What little news I heard about him I heard infrequently from Crystal, whom I was doing my best to ignore as well. My sister had been asking me questions, questions about love and marriage that I could not answer.

  I pondered the latest bit of news as I walked home from shopping with one of my servants. It was early evening, and the sun was just setting. Adam had now begun to court a peasant girl, Ruth something. I forget her surname now. Yet I was happier than I had been in a long time.

  I entered the house and sat down in the middle of the parlor floor. I was sorting out the silk and sewing items I had bought, a pleasant task, when I saw Gregory out of the corner of my eye. He knelt beside me and began to sort them with me. When we finished, I leaned back, supporting my weight with my arms and sighed. “How was yo
ur day?” I asked.

  “All right,” Gregory answered. He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “How are my wife and child doing?” he asked warmly. It amazed me how careful he was with me now that I was carrying his child.

  “We are fine, but lately I have been more tired than usual. I was just thinking of taking a nap before supper,” I replied.

  “All right. Would you like me to help you?” Gregory asked with concern.

  “Aye, please,” I replied. I slowly got to my feet with Gregory’s help, and felt his warm hands around my waist as we walked to our room.

  As he helped me lie down he said, “Perhaps you shouldn’t go out anymore, Julia. You need your rest, and I do not want anything to happen to our son.”

  I stared at him as my head rested against the pillow. “Nay, I’m fine, honestly, Gregory. But how can you be so sure it is a boy? It could be a daughter, you know,” I murmured.

  “Goodness, let’s hope not.” Gregory said with a small laugh. “All right, though soon, Juliana, you will have to stay inside. It is custom as the time of birth draws nearer, is it not?”

  I frowned but said nothing. I actually thought it would be lovely to have a daughter. “Wake me when supper is ready,” I said sleepily.

  “Of course. Pleasant dreams, Julia,” Gregory said kissing my forehead. I closed my eyes and let my exhaustion sweep over me.

  I awoke just before dinner as Gregory entered the room. He accompanied me downstairs to the table. As we ate, we spoke of events happening around the city. I mentioned that Crystal and Damien were to be married the next month. Gregory smiled and announced one of our neighbors was marrying off his daughter.

  “That’s right,” I answered, remembering. “I heard that down at the market.” He smiled and we continued eating in silence. Afterwards we both retired.

  For the next few weeks I did nothing but engage in some light preparations for the baby’s coming. My sleeping time increased heavily and I wondered if I or the child were in any physical danger. I shared my concerns with Crystal when she came over about a week before her own marriage.

  “I am just worried,” I mused. “I remember Mother and I do not want to die, Crystal.”

  Crystal leaned forward and touched my hand. “You are not going to die, Julia, and neither is this child. He or she is going to grow up to be your pride and joy.”

  I nodded slowly. “I’m just worried that Gregory’s last instance of being violent with me may have hurt the baby. I may not like him, but I love my baby and desperately want it to be well and whole. It is not the baby’s fault that his or her father is a scoundrel sometimes.”

  Crystal nodded. “I understand. We must hope for the best, Julia. Are you coming to the wedding?”

  I smiled. “I’m planning to go. I have to see my sister get married. Tell me, Crystal, how is Adam?”

  Crystal laughed and shook her head. “Busy, I think. That Ruth Galloway is one crazy woman. I saw them yesterday watching the entertainment in town. I don’t know if he saw me. If he did, he made no move to say hello.”

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed. I shrugged and looked away. “I guess it should be expected now. Why should he cease to live his life for a girl he can never have?”

  Crystal touched my hand. “Try not to worry about it, Julia. You must put it behind you. But know this: if your husband should return to his violent ways—Heaven forbid —you must inform me immediately, and Damien and I will do what we can to help you escape.”

  “Thank you,” I answered. “Take care of yourself, Crystal. And be happy for us both.”

  A sad little smile showed fleetingly on my sister’s face. She took my hand in hers. “Dear sister, I’ll see you next week. Happy birthday.”

  “Goodbye Crystal,” I answered, and picked up the quilt I was making as a wedding gift. I worked the rest of the afternoon until Gregory returned home. We celebrated my birthday with a quiet dinner and cake.

  That week passed with a suppressed feeling of excitement because Gregory did not want me getting overly anxious. Since Mother was gone, I was the one making Crystal’s wedding dress, according to my sister’s wishes. It was a simple gown with long ruffled sleeves and flowers embroidered around the neckline. It was something for me to do since I didn’t leave the house much anymore. Two days before the wedding I finished the dress and sent it to Father’s for Crystal..

  Gregory awakened me the morning of the wedding. “Shouldn’t you get ready, Juliana?” he asked.

  I nodded and got up. Gregory left and some of the servant girls helped me get ready in a dark blue silk dress. A flowered headpiece adorned the outfit. About two hours later we left for the church. We entered and sat with my brother and his wife. The ceremony was wonderful, and Crystal looked lovely in the dress. I was quite proud of my work.

  At the reception I sat with the bride and groom and some other guests while Gregory mingled with different people. I broke off my conversation with Crystal as I noticed Damien glancing at the slight roundness of my belly. This flustered me a little—first, because I had thought my dress hid it rather well, and secondly, because it was rather rude on his part. I felt heat rise to my cheeks, realizing I probably shouldn’t even be out in public at that point. I looked up again and met his eyes, which seemed filled with quiet curiosity.

  I smiled in spite of myself. “The baby will be born about four months,” I said, though he had asked no question with words.

  “I’m sure you’re excited,” Damien replied. “I’m surprised Gregory even allowed you to be here, although I know Crystal appreciates it.”

  “Aye. I’ve wanted a child for a while, Damien. I am thankful.”

  Damien leant forward and stared at me with his piercing dark green eyes. “But you must be worried too. What if your husband returns to his brutish ways? Julia, aren’t you afraid he might hurt the child?”

  “Damien, what on earth are you saying? What makes you think that?” I hissed angrily.

  Crystal interceded. “Julia, please do not be angry. I told him. He is only trying to help,” Crystal pleaded.

  “No, Crystal. Julia has every right to be angry,” Damien said mildly. He looked back at me. “I’m just your new brother—in—law … and a friend. Please at least think what I said.”

  “Come on, Darling. Our guests seem ready to depart. Let us take our leave,” my sister said. She rose to her feet and we embraced. Then she said goodbye, took Damien’s hand, and walked away with her new husband.

  I found Gregory. “May we leave? I am exhausted.”

  “Aye.” He gently steered me towards the door. I glanced back and was not surprised to see Damien watching me with a peculiar expression. He shook his head slightly and seemed to mutter something under his breath.

  On the way home deep in thought, I stared at the passing houses and trees. Damien was now married to my sister, yet he took what I thought, was an unusual interest in me and my life, and I wondered why. I looked at Gregory, hoping he hadn’t noticed this, nor seen us talking.

  Gregory broke the silence. “Your sister’s husband seems to be a nice fellow, don’t you think, Juliana?”

  “I suppose so,” I answered. I thought it strange that Gregory didn’t seem to notice Damien was directing a lot of attention towards me, when usually all a man had to do was look at me a second too long for Gregory to become suspicious, or fly into a rage. But I was thankful he seemed oblivious. I looked back out the window and we reached home minutes later.

  ***

  The rest of my pregnancy I spent in the house, preparing for the baby’s arrival. My husband became much more animated and excited about the child as the date drew closer. He talked often about a son, and was speaking about him one afternoon as I folded small blankets. “Gregory, what if it is a girl?” I asked him. “You insist it is going to be a boy. We need a name in case it’s a girl, you know.” Gregory shrugged. I turned to look at him, my hands on my hips. “And what is wrong with a girl?”

  “Juliana, plea
se. You know perfectly well how it is. There’s no profit in having a daughter. The cost of raising her will outweigh the benefits of having her in the first place,” he explained. “And a man needs an heir.”

  I turned away. “And if it is a girl?” I asked suspiciously.

  Gregory must the misgiving in my voice. “Then we really don’t have a choice, do we, Julia? We shall raise her and marry her off as soon as possible. Anyway, if it is a boy, I was thinking we could name him Jonathan. It was my grandfather’s name. Is that all right with you?” He sighed at my nod and then added, “You may choose a girl’s name — just in case. I don’t care what you decide.”

  “All right, Gregory,” I answered without telling him the name I was thinking of. I felt another twinge low in my belly. “I am going to lie down.”

  “Go ahead, dear,” Gregory said absently. I remained in bed throughout the next week and a half. As much as I wanted to get up and do things, I felt I needed to conserve my strength if I was to survive the delivery.

  I went into labor in the middle of that second week. The midwife stayed in the room with me throughout the course of the delivery. My child was born several excruciating hours later, in the middle of the afternoon. Weak and exhausted from the labor and birth, I didn’t immediately understand what the midwife was saying to me.

  “You have a daughter, Honey,” she repeated gently.

  “A daughter?” A small smile touched my lips.

  “Aye, and a fine, bonny daughter she is,” the woman answered while making me comfortable. “You did very well, Julia.” She handed me my baby. “I’ll fetch your husband.”

  I nodded, cradling the child against me. I gazed at her in wonder. She had dark hair like her father, but in her blue eyes and the shape of her face shape she resembled me.

  Minutes later, Gregory entered the room. He looked at me, down at our baby girl, and then back at me. He closed his eyes for a minute. “What are you going to name her?” he asked tonelessly.

  I looked down at my little girl. “Marie,” I answered. “Her name is Marie.” I stroked her downy cheek and looked at him. I knew he was unhappy. Silently, I vowed to do everything in my power to keep her safe from her own father. I desperately hoped it would be enough.