A Tender Kiss Could End A War 🕰️(MxM ›1840s)

||Thirty Two||-›The Perished Lady

Julius' heart sunk at the words, his stomach churned fiercely. He had expected this, had even told himself that this was what must happen for both him and Reuben to keep their reputation and likely their lives intact. But knowing it was happening and this soon made his heart quiver. Julius had never fallen in love before, and now he was leaving his lover behind.

Julius flounded to the wooden basin perched atop a hogshead. He splashed his face with water.

Marian gently placed her hand on Julius' shoulder and if Julius didn't know better, he would have shrugged his shoulder away. Madame Marian had known the exact day he was to leave but only now decided to tell him with barely two days remaining. She had been persistent in her wishes for Julius to leave which left him affronted. However, a whisper behind his mind told him that the universe wanted this for him and this could be his earlier prayers answered. Heaven wanted him to leave before he faced the inevitable doom that Wellington was to bring his way.

"I have prepared a bowl of hot eels, you should have some," Marian muttered.

Julius brows furrowed, his gaze slicing into the older woman as his grip on the basin tightened unwittingly. To say Julius was furious was putting it mildly.

"I know I have been upset with you these past few days, but I do not want you to leave without our issues being resolved. You disappointed me when you did not pay heed to my advice but you are like a son and it is not right for me to remain upset with you."

With his head slightly lowered in defeat and irritation, Julius decided to follow the woman to the hot eels.

Julius did not waste his time informing Madame Marian that he loathed hot eels. He knew he would have a greater distaste for it after his departure.

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Backhall Garden ꨄ︎

Adelaide and her two lady friends, Agartha and Luella, had other things to do than attend church.

Callisthenics is the recent fad for the ladies of Britain. And what better day for such activities than the notoriously known dull day of Sunday.

Watching from where he stood on a grassy knoll, Clement was amused if not piquant at the sight happening on the unmowed grass down the slope. The wind stirred amidst the trees, swaying the tail of his overcoat. Lord Alfred had left him for the day. The Grand Duke was busy discussing with the other landowners at "The House Of Lords" the risen issue of the potato famine that has hit Ireland by the cause of a conflicting late blight.

Clement stared at the women and thought of them as witches. The sparrows flitting above made the scene that more fascinating.

In their gym suits; puffy petticoats over flowy white gowns and corsets tightened around their waists. Adelaide and her affluent friends followed the instructions of the slender raven haired lady who never seemed to smile.

The ladies trundled as they walked in zigzags, marched in place and bent their arms and legs at required angles. Adelaide felt like she might break from how fatigued she felt during the arduous exercise, but she understood that it was what was required for a splendid shape. And Adelaide would do almost anything if it granted her beauty.

Clement had now approached the women. They hadn't noticed his presence yet and he wasn't in a rush to change that.

"There is a growing discomfort in my back," The patrician's daughter, Agatha, quietly groused to Adelaide.

"Left foot over your right and vice versa! Keep your back straight, lady Agatha, you aren't a strewn noddle," the stern woman instructed as she tapped the prop cane in her grip to the rhythm of their movements.