Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Twenty Four: Part 3

That evening, after supper, once the barristers and agents had left to stay in the inn in the village, Gills and Julia, Toad and Sal, and Lord and Lady Coventon were entertaining themselves in the drawing room—Lady Julia and Lady Coventon with needlework, Sally Wellbridge reading or writing some treatise or another at the desk in the corner, the men all playing cards.

As always, the silence loomed between Julia and Lady Coventon, perhaps larger this evening, after the prying questions had left her raw and aching, dreading further questioning tomorrow and the day after that. What Julia craved was Gills and a chessboard and a pot of tea, but she must demonstrate to all and sundry that she and Gills were naught but good friends. She had made him agree before Toad and Sally came to stay. No matter that Toad and Sal both had to know about the adjoining balcony.

"I wonder, Lady Coventon, if you might have the smallest bit of red thread? I've run short."

Lady Coventon inclined her head, found a hank of red thread, and handed it across the tea table to Julia.

"Lady Coventon," Julia tried once again, "I feel I must have done something to hurt you in the past, and while I do not know what it might have been, I am surely guilty of acting with spite and malice during the years of my marriage. My actions had consequences for a great many people, I'm afraid. I am not certain how or if I can apologize to each of them, but I can apologize to you."

"How can you think to apologize, when you need to ask what you did to require it? How ever do you think to make amends with the entirety of the ton for all the spite and malice you have unleashed on all of us for your entire adult life? You blame Lord Athol, but you forget we are distant cousins. I grew up with stories of your tantrums and your selfishness."

The room grew quiet, but no one called out to stop Lady Coventon's budding tirade. "I have heard your little plans with Gills, to use gossip and subterfuge to talk your way back to Court—"

Julia threw a beseeching glance at the others, but Toad and Sal just sat listening, and Gills avoided her eyes. And why should any of them help her? The barrister's questioning fresh in her mind, she knew what was being said of her. It was mostly true, and damning.

Lady Conventon pressed her lips together as if to keep her words inside, but then allowed them to burst out. "As though you can wash clean seven weeks at sea and more in hotels with two men, working as a companion to a stage performer, for heaven's sake."

Julia felt herself shrinking inside, the way she felt the first time Athol had struck her when she objected to being the source of gossip against his enemies. To be sure, she had learned to use gossip and innuendo—even slander—to her own ends soon enough, and if it made her feel superior in only one area of her life, that was better than none. Now, the choices she had made shamed her. She had sought to survive with some pride intact, but she had exacted the price of her pride from others, and now she faced that debt with interest.

"Even if you hadn't killed your husband and run from the law, you can never, ever come back from this. No one who matters in England will ever receive you again."

"I am sorry," she tried again, the words totally inadequate.

"And do not think Gills can help you; he is a scandal-ridden nightmare himself, and not half as charming as he thinks he is."

Julia could not let that pass. "That is unfair. Gills was nothing short of a hero, and he is the kindest gentleman I know."

"I would expect you, a murderess and a fallen woman, to defend..." Lady Coventon began again, but let her words trail off. She closed her eyes and took a breath. "It is unfortunate we are connected to your scandal so closely, for you both deserve nothing less than to be thrown to the wolves. I am ashamed to have to put a good face on this mess for you."