Page 24 of The Gentleman Physician

Julia’s eyes opened and she twisted around to look at him, her demeanor severe and her lips pressed tightly together until she spoke. “I thought—that is to say, I enjoyed your friendship. You are a kind man, Mr. Hastings. A good man. But those things are not enough, could never be enough, for the man I must have as husband. I am meant to marry a title or a fortune.”

Her words had shocked him. In all their time together, she never indicated an interest in such things. She had laughed with him at the pompous and elite of London, hadn’t she? She’d agreed with him about the foolishness of English society placing more value on a man’s genealogy than his character.

“I don’t understand,” he’d said, trying to make sense of the conversation, reconciling his image of Julia Devon with the words she spoke to him.

The young woman, only eighteen years of age, had straightened her posture, clenched her gloved hands at her side, and delivered a speech that smote his heart and left him shattered. Every word pierced him more efficiently and accurately than a yeoman with a longbow could’ve managed.

Nathaniel came to himself, putting the past away from him, and found he had been walking in the wrong direction for some time. He shook his head fiercely, clearing the memories away, and took a deep breath of the cold. He had not thought on his past with Julia in such detail for a long while, but seeing her with nearly every visit to the baron’s home, the memories flooded back, and most of the emotions with them.

I cannot allow this, he thought, turning abruptly to take the correct path, ignoring the curious stare of a gentleman who’d been walking behind him. I told Julia I am a whole person, no longer troubled by the injuries she caused me.

Nathaniel put aside the gentle whispers of his heart, and what they meant: he had lied.

∞ ∞ ∞

My Dearest Rebecca,

I must tell you how glad I am to have received your letter, and I am delighted that Aunt Jacqueline is not as terrible an ogre as you expected. I always found her to be a very practical woman, not given to dramatic behavior or tyrannical decrees. While she will do all she can to mold you into her ideal young woman, she is fair and her rules make a great deal of sense. Remember to be respectful to her and you will get along well enough.

I am glad you have found your way to a lending library, and with little wasted time. While I cannot advise deception, I do recommend you avoid telling our aunt of every title you read, and always try to have at least one book on hand that she and our father would approve of.

I do not have a great deal of news to share. The Baron will not recover, I am afraid, though he has received the best medical care available.

Julia’s pen nearly dropped a large drop of ink on the paper when she paused overlong at the end of that sentence. She took in a deep breath and laid the writing utensil down, trying to form her next thought. What could she possibly say to her youngest sister about all that had transpired? Absolutely nothing. Though she longed to tell someone. She could not burden Virginia, and she had no friends she trusted well enough to tell.

Keeping all her thoughts and feelings to herself, especially with Nathaniel near at hand, was becoming difficult.

She stepped away from the little table in her room and began to pace. Who could she confide in?

“Christine,” she whispered out loud, her eyes widening. How could she not have thought of her married sister?

Before she could finish her letter to Rebecca, she must pour her heart out to Christine. Though the middle sister had never shown a great penchant for romance before, she certainly had her share of it now. Christine had done the impossible, for a Devon, and married for love. It had been a near thing, and the catalyst for Julia and Rebecca’s exile from their home. But Julia admired her younger sister for following her heart.

Christine was the only one, aside from her father and Aunt Jacqueline, who knew of Julia’s unfortunate past with Nathaniel.

Julia returned to the table and brought a clean sheet of paper out from the drawer. She prepared her pen and began, writing with more haste than neatness, hurrying to relay the information to someone who might care for her.

Dear Christine,

First, I must send you my love. I hope you are happy as a bride and that your husband continues to fill your days with joy. Second, I will assure you that I am well in body. Cousin Virginia is considerate and a gracious hostess, even given all that weighs upon her. I am afraid her husband will not be upon this earth much longer. He has received the best of care, but his doctor says the condition is irreversible and we must prepare ourselves to say goodbye.

It is because of the doctor that I write to you. I have no one else to tell, no one with whom I can share my feelings and concerns on this most tender matter. Christine, this doctor I mention is none other than the N.H. I named to you, not long before your marriage, as the man I hoped would be mine. I did not know he was in Bath, or that he obtained his dream of practicing as a physician, but he is here, and he is often in our cousin’s home.

Julia wrote, in as few words as possible, of their interactions. She kept her script tiny but managed to not cross her words. At last she came to the part most important to her. The hard thing she must confide.

Seeing N. again has brought him fully back into my thoughts. I cannot sleep without dreaming of times gone by. After our last meeting, I know I have not had the same effect on him. Remembering how we parted, years ago, I want nothing more than to prove to him I am not the heartless woman he imagines me to be. Yes, I hurt him. But he does not understand why. I wish to redeem myself in his eyes, but to what end? Is this prideful foolishness? Would I only be justifying myself?

You are my only confidant, my only adviser, on this matter. I anxiously await your reply.

She finished the letter with her love, signed her name with a flourish, and felt well enough again to finish her letter to Rebecca. That task accomplished, Julia left her room, in search of something with which to occupy her mind and hands.

The boys were occupied in the nursery, taking a day of rest. Nathaniel had come back yesterday morning, as promised. Julia had been careful to be busy in another part of the house when he arrived and left. Phillip had come to find her after, assuring her of his little brother’s clean bill of health, including an absence of fever.

Edward’s cough had returned in the morning, been treated, and he spent the remainder of the day wanting to get out of bed to play with his brother. The cough came back at night, as Nathaniel had predicted, but the family treated it with greater ease.

Julia sought out Virginia and found her in her upstairs sitting room, holding her sewing limply in her lap, staring at nothing.

“Ginny,” she said softly from the doorway, trying not to startle her cousin. “What can I do?”