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Cautiously, he tried his voice. “It will be too difficult to walk across the Park, but if you feel you can manage the path to the village, I ought to get you home.” Not bad. He sounded almost normal.
“Yes.”
She sounded almost herself, too. A little subdued, perhaps, but not angry. For both of them, that kiss had wiped away their argument. He felt scoured clean, somehow. Whatever had they quarrelled about anyway? It seemed a trivial, distant thing, now.
“The snow is not deep, so it should be an easy walk.”
“Yes.”
She did not move. Restlessly, he went to the window and opened the shutter a crack. “The moon is out, so we will be able to see the path clearly.”
“Yes.”
“Shall we go?”
For answer, she stood, pulling her cloak tightly around her. She had not even removed it when she lay down.
He tamped down the fire and extinguished all the lights except his lantern, holding the door open for her. Then they set off on the walk down the hill, into the village and then through the gates of the Park, where the trees along the avenue had kept the snow to a mere sprinkling.
It was so strange to walk beside her without speaking. She had always chattered to him in the easiest manner imaginable, but now she had nothing to say. Whenever he dared to look at her, the expression on her face was placid. There was a stillness about her that he could not interpret.
They crossed the bridge over the lake and made their way up to the front door, where James banged vigorously with the knocker, and rang the bell for good measure.
“No one will hear,” she said.
“The butler’s and housekeeper’s rooms are directly below the front door, so one of them will hear,” he said, knocking and ringing again. “Eventually.”
But it was not Keeble or Mrs Graham whose hands wrestled with the bolts and locks, not two minutes later. When the door opened, it was Mr Fletcher’s face, animated with a mixture of hope and terror, which peered out at them, his night cap askew. He saw Julia, he gave a cry of joy, and threw the door wide.
“Jules! My darling girl!”
He opened his arms and she rushed into them, both of them crying, talking excitedly, hugging. Then more figures appeared in the hall behind them, ghostly pale in their night wraps, candles wavering in the draught from the open door. Julia was enfolded by excited female voices and more tears and drawn further into the house.
James slowly made his way down the steps, quite unnoticed, and trudged wearily home.
~~~~~
Julia lay awake for most of what remained of the night, as Rosie and Angie slept quietly beside her. She had slept away half the day and some of the night too, as her exhaustion caught up with her. Now she was wide awake.
She was calm. After the turbulence of recent days, she had reached an oasis of tranquillity, all the high emotion drained out of her.
Jameslovedher. He had told her so and she had not believed him, but last night…! Good heavens, she had believed him then, for she had seen it for herself. First his anger, an anger not founded merely on the inconvenience of searching for her, but something more deep rooted. When she had first opened her eyes and seen him standing on the threshold, lantern held high, his face had been suffused with joy. He had sagged against the door post with relief. And then, when she had shown no contrition, he had exploded with rage. Even then, she hadn’t understood.
But when he kissed her… oh Lord, what a kiss! She had not had the least inkling until that moment that a kiss could be more than the gentle affection she had experienced with James in the attic. Then he had been all softness and caressing tenderness. But this latest kiss… it was like nothing on earth… so powerful, so all-encompassing, sopassionate.
Passion… love… the love of a grown man for a woman. For her, Julia realised in wonder. How was it possible that any man could feel such an overwhelming emotion for someone like her? For Rosie, yes, so beautiful and good as she was. Or even Angie, as dainty and graceful as an angel. But for herself, with all her odd ways? It was hard to credit. Yet it was so.
It made no difference to her determination not to marry, but it changed her. It changed everything.
After such a disturbed night, everyone rose late to a subdued breakfast. No one berated Julia for the panic she had inadvertently caused. Her apologies were waved away airily.
“You are safe and sound, puss, that’s all that matters,” Pa said.
Even Mama smiled at her. “You will not want to go for your usual walk today, I imagine, Julia,” she said, her voice gentle. “There is still snow lying, and I should be glad of your help with the packing.”
With the ball over and their removal to London only two weeks away, there was now an orgy of sorting and planning and packing, for the first boxes of precious new gowns were to be dispatched in two days.
“There is still much to be bought once we arrive,” Mama said, a smile of happy anticipation on her face. “Madame Farage is progressing wonderfully with gowns, but we shall need stockings, shoes, gloves, hats… oh, so many hats you will need! Today we will make a start on Rosie’s boxes.”
