“Thank you for going slow,” Julia called up to the driver before stepping into the coach.
She was a fusspot when it came to how animals were treated. If it were in her power to see it done, she wanted them given the same care and provisions all people should receive. Pulling a carriage all day was tiring for horses, so she always insisted the driver take his time—even if she was running late for an appointment or an event.
Julia settled her skirts around her as the coach took off with a lurch and a rattle. She looked over at Brina and smiled. “Thank you for coming by for me.”
“It was the least I could do after I said you’d be joining me for Lady Hallbury’s party when you didn’t even know about it. Besides, I always want you to be my companion when you’re in Town. It gives me an opportunity to be away from Mama for a while.”
“I know, and I am looking forward to the party,” Julia said earnestly. “It’s just that the past three days have been difficult.”
“I know you were searching for the duke’s documents. I take your comment to mean it hasn’t gone well and you haven’t found them.” Brina leaned forward. “But please tell me you didn’t get caught.”
“No. I’ve been very careful. It’s frustrating I haven’t found the incriminating deed to the property so I can prove the duke owned the Eubury-Broadwell Gaming House.” Julia sighed quietly. “I’ve managed to thoroughly search one section of the duke’s book room walls, and the flooring—except for the space under his desk, which is impossible for me to get to.”
“What about his private chambers?”
“Not yet, and I still have hope I’ll find a hidden space behind the books on a high shelf and won’t have to go into them. It would be difficult. Mrs. Desford never leaves the house. Mr. Leeds takes care of all her errands outside the house. For now I’m still opening each book and looking at the wall behind it. It’s time-consuming as some of the books are quite large and difficult to move and there are so many.”
“Oh, Julia, you must let me help you search the house,” Brina insisted. “You can invite me over for dinner and I’ll come up with a reason to stay late.”
“I doubt I could persuade Mrs. Desford to retire before you left. I am making headway through the books, but it’s just not fast enough for me because I don’t know what day the duke might return.” Julia pressed into the back of the plush velvet cushion and sighed. “The worst thing is that now I am having to cope with the tutor the duke sent for Chatwyn’s lessons. It’s been an absolutely disastrous situation.”
“I was there when he arrived but, of course, didn’t meet him and you couldn’t say much about him before I left. I don’t understand this. Chatwyn should be under Miss Periwinkle’s care for a few more years.”
“Yes, and he will but Mr. Pratt brought me a letter from the duke saying he thinks it’s time to begin a more formal education for Chatwyn to start preparing him for Eton. Including his religious training. The man he sent is simply a beast, and unrelenting in wanting Chatwyn to sit in a chair for six hours a day and practice lettering and numbers. We’ve had more than one row about it and, of course, Chatwyn cries and clings to me. This perturbs Mr. Pratt. He tries to insist I leave the room but I’ve refused to leave Chatwyn alone with the man.”
“I didn’t know all this. I’m so sorry and don’t blame you for being upset. He sounds like a monster. But, oh, what about today? Is Chatwyn alone with him?”
“No. Never, if I have anything to say about it. When Mr. Pratt arrived this morning, I told him Chatwyn had a stomach issue and he couldn’t possibly be expected to sit still and endure lessons today. He said he’d return on Monday. So between my searching the book room, the tutor, and my wayward thoughts about Mr. Stockton—but no, no, Brina, enough about me and my troubles. Please let me hear something about you for a change.”
“But I want to know—what it is about Mr. Stockton that has you on edge?”
Julia smiled softly just thinking about him. “He reminds me of how I long to be free so I can have a man call on me. He has me thinking of kisses and caresses. Being held, and—no man has made me feel the way he makes me feel when he looks at me. He reminds me just how desperately I want to be free to enjoy my life on my terms.” Julia moistened her lips and took in a steadying breath. “But again, I don’t want to talk about me anymore. Tell me something about you.”
Brina looked down and smoothed the gloves on her hands. “There is something but I haven’t wanted to tell you because I’m not sure you will approve of what I’ve been doing.”
Brina’s matter-of-fact tone caused a slight chill to flutter over Julia even though the coach was quite warm. “I’m surprised that you think I wouldn’t support whatever it is. You wrote to me that you were going over to the school once a week to read to the girls, much to your parents’ angst. I heartily agree with that, so what is it you think I won’t approve of?”
“This has nothing to do with the school.” Her blue eyes turned pensive. “I couldn’t mention this matter to you in a letter, but now that you are here, I would like to talk with you about what I’ve been thinking.”
Julia felt a sudden tension in the back of her neck. “What’s disturbing you? You know you can tell me anything.”
“I hesitate because of the seriousness of my thoughts.” She paused and looked out the window for a few moments. “I’m thinking about the possibility of joining the Sisters of Pilwillow Crossings.”
It took a moment for the meaning of Brina’s words to sink into Julia’s mind and when they did, she stared at her, truly unable to say anything for a few moments. “But that is a—a—”
“A convent, an abbey,” Brina said without hesitancy, “are probably the best names for it. Though not all the women who serve there are nuns, and it’s really so much more than that. It’s a community of women. Good women who unselfishly do good works for unfortunate people here in London. Their doors are open three days a week to serve a cup of soup and a slice of bread to those in need. Two of the sisters spend those three days attending anyone with wounds and handing out poultices and tonics they make. All of them sew, knit, and bake bread the other four days. I suppose they have time for their services and readings, too. But they have a purpose to their lives, and that appeals to me.”
“All right,” Julia said calmly. “You want to help them. How? You don’t know how to bake bread.”
“But I can learn,” Brina argued, unapologetic and a bit defensive. “I want to do something more than just get up in the mornings and dress for a walk in the park, or dress in the evenings to sit at someone’s dinner table and make idle conversation.”
“But that is what you’re supposed to do. You are well read, and because of that you’re quite engaging with your knowledge on many subjects when you are a guest at someone’s house and sit down at their table. You play the pianoforte so beautifully and with so much feeling everyone wants to listen when you entertain. I’ve read your poetry. It’s thoughtful and inspiring. You helped start The Seafarer’s School. Why would you think you have no purpose in life?”
Brina turned away from Julia and glanced out the window before looking back into Julia’s eyes. There was a sadness in Brina that Julia knew was always there but she seldom let it show. Julia remained quiet for a few moments as the carriage rumbled over a quiet street in Mayfair dotted with white houses.
“If I do have a purpose,” Brina finally offered, “I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to marry, so I’ll have no children to love and care for as you do. Mrs. Tallon has two helpers and really needs no more assistance at the school. Reading a book to the girls is the most I can do there.”
Feeling great concern for her friend and the seriousness of what she was considering, Julia moved over to sit on the cushion beside Brina. “Why do you think you would be happy at Pilwillow Crossings?”
Brina faced her. “Because I’m not happy where I am.”
Those were chilling words. “But you would have to take a vow. You would be giving up all that you were born into.”
“No.” Brina smiled softly. “I checked into that. You need not worry that I am losing my mind. I’m not considering taking a vow of any kind, and it’s not necessary at this convent. There are women who live there who’ve never taken the vow and don’t intend to. That doesn’t mean they don’t have to obey all the rules that are set forth. They do. I know the solemnity of this action and that’s why I’m not rushing into a decision. It’s something I’m thinking about, and you should know I haven’t mentioned this to anyone else for now.”
“You know I’ll keep your feelings quiet. And I agree it’s best not to tell your parents. Doing this would alter your life drastically, and there’s no reason to burden them with your thoughts until you have this more settled in your mind.”
“That’s why I haven’t told anyone but you.”
“You’re still so young, Brina, you—I truly want you to make the choice that’s best for you, but if you do decide to do this, and then later change your mind, would you be able to leave?”
“Of course.” Brina laughed softly. “It’s not a prison. They only want women who want to help others.” A faraway look glistened in Brina’s eyes. “I do think I made the right decision when I returned to my parents’ home after Stewart’s passing. It’s been so easy to let them coddle me.”
“And now you are wanting something more.”
“Something different,” Brina corrected. “I just don’t know what it is yet. Why don’t you go with me to talk with them? I really need your help with this. Observe is all I’ve done, and only for short periods of time when I could escape from Mama.”
“Yes, I’d very much like to go with you. Just let me know. I’ll find a reason to tell Mr. Pratt that Chatwyn isn’t available for instructions that day. I welcome a chance to do that.”
“We’ll have to be very careful not to let anyone see us.”
“We will. Just let me know when you have your date set. But tell me, how do you know so much about the abbey if all you have done is watch the goings on from afar?”
“I sent my maid with a list of questions to ask and swore her to secrecy. She would never breathe a word to anyone about what I do.”
“It appears we both have our secrets this summer.”
“Yes,” Brina said with a resigned smile. “I’m glad you’ve returned to London so we can share them.”
“So am I. It reminds me of when we were meeting with Adeline to plan for the girls’ school. We were so afraid someone would discover what we were doing and stop us before we could get it started.”
“But no one did.”
“That’s right,” Julia said as the coach rolled to a stop in front of Lady Hallbury’s house. If only they could be as successful now as they’d been with the school.
Lady Hallbury always greeted her guests at the entrance to her formal garden. Most everyone in the ton, including Julia, considered the older countess eccentric. But no one would miss one of her parties—if they were fortunate enough to be invited.
She wore a halo of fresh-cut flowers in her ringlets of graying hair. It wouldn’t have seemed odd except for the fact that they were large pink mums. The same flower in a smaller size had been sewed onto the low neckline and high waistline of her flowing gown. There were four flounces on her skirt and the hem of each had been adorned with a row of fresh peonies. Julia had never seen anything like it, and by the expression on Brina’s face, neither had she.
The spacious garden was no less lavish and spectacular than the hostess herself, with its array of decor. At the entrance to her back lawn were three white arches decorated with colorful shades of tulle, ribbons, and more flowers placed at the entrance. Guests had to walk under the arches to enter. Past where their hostess stood, Julia could see rows of vibrant flowers lining the stone pathway that led to tables and chairs that had been swathed with white linen. Not surprisingly, a ring of pink posies had been laid in the center of each table. Inside each ring stood a five-tiered silver tray filled with dainty confections and delicacies.
Scattered in between tables were beautifully dressed ladies still wearing pale colors and summer blends of lightweight muslin, crepe, and silk. Their hats and bonnets were the height of fashion and lovely, with netting and organdy coverings. Gentlemen were splendidly clothed in dark coats and waistcoats as colorful as the flowers in Lady Hallbury’s garden.
The muggy air was still. Gray skies didn’t dampen the enthusiastic hum of chatter or the melodious sounds coming from a violinist, a cellist, and a pianist.
“There you are at last, my dear Lady Kitson,” the countess said as Julia and Brina approached. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it after all. Delighted to hear you are back in Town. September is the perfect time to be in London, though few agree with me on that. And after the heat earlier in the week, who can blame them. Though it was simply dreadful to hear that the duke wasn’t feeling well enough to make the journey.”
“It’s good to be in London,” Julia responded when her hostess finally took a breath. “I’ll mention in my next letter to the duke that you asked about him. He’ll be pleased.”
“Oh, yes, do. It never hurts to have one’s name mentioned to a duke.”
She looked over at Brina. “Delighted to see you, too, Mrs. Feld. You’re looking lovely, as always. Perhaps you’ll play a score for us later in the afternoon. It’s wonderful to have a pianist, but someone who’s hired simply can’t play with the feeling of someone who plays only because it comes from her heart. Don’t you agree, Lady Kitson?”
Julia smiled at Brina. “Yes, few can play as beautifully as Brina.”
Lady Hallbury turned and motioned for a server to come over.
“Mr. Garrett Stockton is back in London, too. I know it’s rather brazen of me having him here, but he adds a touch of mystique to a gathering, don’t you think? Viscount Rumbly has been giving him the evil eye and hasn’t let his daughter anywhere near the man.”
Lady Hallbury gave them each a glass from the server’s tray. “Do enjoy yourselves,” she said and then walked away.
“I always feel as if I’ve been in a windstorm after talking with her,” Brina said.
“I think everyone does,” Julia agreed, thinking more of how she felt when she heard Lady Hallbury mention Mr. Stockton’s name. “Have you seen him yet?”
“Yes. I saw him before the countess mentioned him.”
Julia scanned the group of people over her champagne glass but couldn’t find him. It was impossible to see around some of the big urns filled with flowers, stuffed birds, and motionless butterflies. “What’s he wearing?”
“A deep green coat with a fawn-colored waistcoat. He’s talking with Miss Lavinia Etchingham and Miss Myrtle Jackson. She is standing very close to him but she won’t be for long. Her mother keeps scowling at her. Myrtle is oblivious to her mother’s warnings to get away from the man.”
Julia could understand Miss Jackson’s feelings. Mr. Stockton had made her feel as if she were an eager young miss wanting to feel her very first touch from a man. She didn’t want to admit it to Brina, but she was feeling more than a little apprehension and sheer anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. Julia hadn’t come to London looking to find a man to fill a void in her life, but something had happened between the two of them their first meeting. She sensed he felt it, too.
He was different from all the gentlemen who’d let her know they’d be interested in courting her or having a secret encounter with her. But more importantly, she had felt differently about him almost from the first moment she saw him. Mr. Stockton was the first man who had her contemplating the possibility of going against the duke’s stated rules of what she should and should not do.
Julia liked how he’d made her feel so womanly again. How it made her feel to think about being alone with him. It intrigued her that he had the courage to give up the settled, envied life of a gentleman to become a voyager.
It was madness to consider it, but it didn’t stop Julia from wondering what he would say if she told him she’d like to be with him. Alone. In an intimate way. But how would she even say it to him if she mustered the courage? Maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe he would just know—by the way she looked at him that she wanted to be with him.
Thinking about it was all she could do. She believed the duke when he told her he would take Chatwyn and raise him if she wanted to be with a man. And she knew he could. The laws gave him complete power over her and her son. She would only have Chatwyn with her until he went to Eton. That was still four or five years away, and she couldn’t give up her time with him until then.
“Wait,” Brina said with a satisfied smile. “You don’t have to worry about Miss Jackson anymore. Her mother just walked over, took her by the arm and is leading her toward the arches. I assume they are heading home already.”
“Is he watching her leave?”
“No. Clearly he has no interest in her or he would. But Miss Etchingham will not have him all to herself. Miss Chesterfield just joined her and Mr. Stockton.”
Julia blew out a soft laugh. “I’m not surprised all the lovely misses are lining up to spend a few minutes with him. I’m sure I would be, too, if I thought I had a chance to—”
Julia’s voice trailed off. She’d caught sight of the sea adventurer from across the garden, and he saw her. It was as if a beam of sunshine had broken through the gray clouds. Everything in her vision seemed to sparkle. She felt as if he were pulling her toward him.
She didn’t know how or why but was certain in her heart that every time they saw each other more than their eyes had connected. An eagerness to indulge in what she was feeling for him seemed to dig its way into her soul. She felt he had the same experience. There was something about him that triggered emotions inside her that were far too raw and intense to consider—especially at a garden party where he was surrounded by young belles who were innocent, younger, more beautiful and didn’t have Julia’s troubles.
“Of course you have a chance with him,” Brina said, bursting into Julia’s thoughts. “Why would you even think such a thing? It’s all right for you to be cautious. You should be. It’s wise. You have to think of Chatwyn, but you can’t neglect yourself.”
“I know you are right.” Julia turned away from Mr. Stockton. She didn’t want to watch him chatting and smiling with the two adoring young ladies. “Which is why I’m going to enjoy this glass of champagne and say hello to everyone who’s here.”
“Right,” Brina agreed. “Let’s start with Viscount Rumbly. Lady Hallbury said he’d been giving Mr. Stockton the evil eye since he arrived. Maybe he’ll tell us something about Mr. Stockton we don’t know.”
“If he does, it will only be gossip.”
Brina smiled. “I know.”
It was sometime later and after Julia had participated in several conversations about the hostess’s flower-trimmed dress, the possible reasons for Miss Camilla Wangle’s sudden marriage to Mr. Bradley Fowler, and the conflicting explanations about what exactly had set off a fire that burned down three buildings on the east end of Harold Street that Julia found herself standing alone.
“What has captivated you about this table, Lady Kitson?” Mr. Stockton asked as he eased up beside her. “You’ve been staring at it and looking pensive for at least a full minute.”