“Poor Julian,” said Caroline
While the men had been out in search of guests, she had sat outside on a chair with Midas asleep on the ground beside her. Her gaze was fixed firmly on the road. As the hours slowly dragged on, she found herself willing hard for a fleet of travel coaches to appear.
Upon leaving London, she had only seen the party at Newhall Castle as a means to escape her own problems, but her view had changed. She wished very much for Julian to have a successful party. For him to find a lovely girl to marry. For him to be happy.
“Where on earth is everyone?” she whispered.
Midas stirred beside her and got to his feet. He shook his head, then his whole body, before letting out a soft woof.
Caroline reached out and gave him a friendly pat. “You are awake. What has stirred you?”
Midas leaped forward and raced toward the drive. At the top of the rise, three horses appeared. Their slow progress toward the castle, coupled with the lack of other movement on the road, did not portent well.
She rose from the chair and fixed her skirts. She wanted to appear calm. If the returning riders brought bad news with them, she wanted to show Julian that he had her full support.
Midas reached the horses and scampered around them in a big loop, barking with unrestrained joy. Caroline waved.
Francis managed a half wave in return. When she saw Julian, her heart sank. He was slumped, his head bowed in the saddle. A man crushed by disappointment.
“Oh no,” she muttered.
When the horses finally made it to the front of the castle, Francis jumped down from his horse. James slowly dismounted. They both came to the side of Julian’s horse.
“Come on, Newhall, let’s have you,” said Francis, holding out his hands.
Julian mumbled something incoherent in reply, then shooed Francis away. “I shall get down off my own bloody horse, Saunders, or I shall break my neck in the process. Either way, I couldn’t care less.”
A small O formed on Caroline’s lips as she realized the truth of the situation. Julian was not crushed; he was completely foxed.
“What happened?” she asked.
Francis walked over to her, while James lingered close by Julian’s horse. His gaze was fixed on their drunken host. “We rode all the way to Ashby de la Zouch and there were no other party guests to be seen. Newhall then declared that he required the support of a copious amount of alcohol,” he explained.
Caroline winced as she watched Julian attempt to dismount. He finally wriggled his right foot out of the stirrups after several failed attempts. Leaning back on the horse, he dislodged his left foot from the other stirrup. He swayed in the saddle for a heart-stopping moment, but when James stepped forward, Julian glared at him.
“Stand your ground, Radley, you son of a bishop,” he slurred.
In what could only be described as an inelegant move, Julian then swung his right leg over the saddle and slid down the side of the horse, landing on his knees.
“Ooof!” he cried.
To Caroline’s relief, James took it upon himself to ignore Julian’s protests, and putting his hands under their drunken host’s arms, he lifted him to his feet. Julian attempted to push James away, but her cousin held on tight.
“Come on, Newhall, let’s get you inside before we all die of exposure. The whisky in your system might be keeping you warm, but I’m freezing out here,” James said.
Caroline and Francis followed James and Julian into the main hall. Midas trotted behind.
James managed to get Julian into a nearby sitting room where, with a little assistance from the others, and despite Julian’s slurred protests, they got him settled on a low daybed. Caroline found a footman who quickly went in search of a warm blanket.
With Julian now tucked up and soon fast asleep and snoring loudly, the rest of the group left him in private. They gathered in the upstairs library and closed the door.
“Well that was a long and rather wasted journey,” said James.
Caroline frowned. “So, what do you think has happened? Why has no one other than ourselves arrived?”
“He is not completely sure, but Newhall suspects that his mother has something to do with it. He made mention while we were out on the road that he had demanded the return of several pieces of Newhall estate jewelry that the countess had taken when she left his father. She apparently handed over some of them, but kept an ancient family heirloom. He thinks she has done something to scuttle his plans in order to exact revenge on him for having demanded the return of the jewels,” explained Francis.
And knowing that she and Julian had had several public spats, it didn’t take a great leap of the imagination for Caroline to wonder if the countess had decided to throw her attendance at the house party in as an added slight. To Caroline’s mind, the countess had pressed a little too keenly for her to attend. And her apology over the incident with the boat on the Serpentine had lacked sincerity.
With Julian’s event now looking a complete failure, the obvious question raised its head. What were she and the others to do?
“I expect we shall have to return to London,” said Francis.
Caroline was not surprised at her brother’s words. He had taken on handling a significant amount of the family import business over the past year and was fast making a name for himself as an astute businessman. Time spent away from the city was not something he did lightly.
“For myself, I would like to stay. I am not in a London frame of mind at present. Newhall and I have already discussed me making a short trip up to Burton-on-Trent to see some old school chums,” said James.
Caroline could have hugged her cousin there and then, especially when she saw the look of annoyance on Francis’s face.
Francis turned to her. “There is something you should know”.
She nodded. “You mean that I was not on Julian or Lady Margaret’s initial guest list? That it was his mother who made the decision to invite me? I think I have got some of the measure of the countess, and my presence here was her way of vexing Julian.”
James huffed in obvious disgust at the revelation. “I can leave and go onto Burton by myself. If you take me through to the inn at Ashby, I can make my own way north from there.”
Francis stood silently looking at Caroline. He was an odd creature. At times quite distant, but at others, like now, she sensed he could read her mind. He was waiting for her to make her declaration of intent.
“I want to stay,” she said.
If pressed, she could have concocted a number of sensible reasons for wanting to remain at Newhall Castle. For a start, it would be rude to simply abandon Julian at this point. He needed his friends, however newly acquired, to stand by him.
Secondly, for herself, she did not wish to return to London. If she did leave Newhall Castle, then she too would head north, to the Strathmore family seat in Scotland.
The truth of her reason for wishing to stay was something less clear in her mind. For the first time in her life, it was her heart which was speaking loudly. She had been at Newhall Castle for only a matter of days, yet it had already gotten under her skin.
“I just think it would be terribly unkind of us to simply pack up and leave Julian alone at this time. I am also holding out hope that other guests do arrive, and if they do, they will feel more comfortable in knowing that we are already here,” she added.
Francis raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Alright, we stay. Let it not be said that the Saunders or Radleys ever abandon a friend in his hour of need.”