Julia awoke at the sound of water splashing. She blinked, her eyes feeling terribly swollen and puffy. Then she remembered the long crying bout she'd had, where every emotion and negative thought she'd held in for the last twelve months had come spewing out. And she remembered how Frederica had held her in her arms, rocking her, smoothening her hair, rubbing her back.
She was a little embarrassed by the whole incident yet she felt all the more lighter for it, as if she'd shed a heavy burden. She could breathe easily for the first time in a long time.
Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she stretched her arms up and out. Refreshed was what she was. Like a new person again. She was ready to take on the world!
Peeking her head out of her drawn bed hangings, she spied her lady's maid. "Good morning, Ann."
"Good morning, Miss Marl—ack! What's happened to your eyes? They look all...frog-like."
Frog-like? "Nothing serious."
"Nothing serious? You best take a look, miss." Ann rushed to get a hand mirror and held it up.
Julia tried to hide her shock. "I...I really do look like a frog. Do you have any idea what might help?"
"I'd get one of the maids to fetch some ice chips. That might help the swelling go down."
Julia tilted her head left and right to examine the extent of the puffiness in the mirror. "Will it last long?"
"A few hours to say the least. But all should be well by the time you have to dress and leave for the soiree you're attending tonight at Lord and Lady Carrington's townhouse."
"No afternoon calls today then, I suppose." At Ann's head shake, she bit her lip. "I hope Mama won't be too disappointed."
"Mayhap her ladyship will be understanding when she sees you like this."
"Mayhap." She wasn't looking forward to that conversation with her mother. "Have a breakfast tray sent up, won't you, Ann? I shan't go down until much later. Much much later."
She spent the morning in bed with the ice chips wrapped in cloth over her eyes though water kept running down her temples as the ice melted. And later two spoons that had been stuck in the ice for a while. But she could do nothing else as she laid in bed except think. And her conversation with Frederica yesterday during her cry was the thing that kept repeating itself.
"Julia, all this unhappiness you've carried inside, it can't have been very helpful to you."
"No, but I had no one to tell. I didn't know how to tell Mama that I was not successful as a debutante. Or that I want the things she wants for me, a loving marriage. Or at least not any longer."
"What do you mean?"
"Before Art...Shearing had to go off on his Grand Tour, he...he proposed. And I accepted because I loved him so. But we told no one about it. I hadn't yet had my debut yet then. It was a few months more until I would be presented at court. And Mama had talked endlessly about me having a Season, about the parties, the dresses, the entertainment. I thought she might not like it that I was engaged before my debut, so I begged him not to tell my parents. He agreed reluctantly after I promised him that even though I was in London for the season, I'd not fall in love with anyone else while he was away.
"We tried to write to each other while he was away. But I never knew if my letter would reach him in time before he moved on to his next destination. But in the event he'd receive one, I made sure to be cheerful in my letters but I was having a terrible time while in London. I made no friends for I was singular in my love for astronomy. And I was never very ladylike which Mama had longed fretted over. I suppose having many brothers, both older and younger, had made me that way."
"How many?"
"Five in total. Two older and three younger."
"It must have been nice growing up with siblings. I wished I had one. But this isn't about me. Do continue."
"I did not enjoy London at all, and still don't, with its perpetual grey skies where I can see no stars at night. And during balls and soirees, I'd usually find myself standing around at the fringes, left out of dances and conversations. The constant feeling of being lonely while in a crowd full of people was, is truly disconcerting. And that changed me. While I didn't need to do anything to secure a match, it didn't mean that other people's opinions of me mattered little. I was the oddity, the lonely one, the one no wanted to dance with, the arrogant one...the list of names I'd overheard people call me was long indeed."
Frederica gave her a long hard squeeze at that moment and she shed an endless river of tears again. When she'd finally stopped crying, Frederica asked,"but why arrogant? You have not an ounce of excessive pride in your body!"
"The men labelled me as such. Because I did nothing to encourage their attention. I did the opposite in fact. I didn't spurn their advances outright, but I did not strive to further engage them in conversation whenever they approached me in the ballrooms or called on me at my house. And so, in their eyes, I was arrogant because I didn't deign to pay them any attention."
"So what did all this change you into?"
"It changed me into someone who was unsure of herself. Midway through the Season, I began to worry that Art...Shearing proposed because I was the proximally the closest woman to him. Maybe he'd proposed not because he loved me as he'd claimed. Maybe he'd return from the Continent and cry off our engagement. In my mind, to prevent that from happening, I needed to be less like my old self, and more like the graceful women I was constantly surrounded by. I studied the most successful debutantes, the ones who had plenty of suitors and had men clamouring to be their partner at every dance. I copied the way they moved, the way they spoke, even the things they talked about. I practiced diligently in front of the mirror every night until I was confident enough to try it in public."
"And did it work?"
"I didn't become a Diamond of the First Water overnight. But it did become a little less painful to attend the endless balls and whatnot. But by the end of the Season I was glad to be done with it. Because it meant I was closer to seeing Art...Shearing again. And to reassure myself that I hadn't lost him to some nameless, faceless woman."
"You obviously hadn't since he remains unwed."
"Yes, and no...because when he returned, he was no longer the man I had fallen in love with. He was surly and distant. He barely spoke, hardly ate. Even his favourite dishes couldn't tempt him. He berated me for being excessive and wasteful."
"I don't understand."
"One night, I had the kitchen prepare everything he liked and had them laid out on the table. There were different fowls, fishes, cuts of beef, and sweets all spread out. There must have been fifteen dishes on the table. He took one look at it and flew into a rage, condemning me for my attempt to have him eat something, anything because it was entirely wasteful to prepare so much for one person. But he hadn't realised I was terrified of what might happen. He'd become gaunt and lifeless by then and I was fearful that he was going to starve himself to death. Thankfully, he began to eat again eventually, though he eschewed his typical fare for simpler dishes. I didn't know why he did what he did, and I still don't. I only knew that the more he behaved less like his old self, the more I panicked and the harder I tried to be more like my new self in hopes that I'd draw out the man I once fell in love with."
She spluttered out a laugh. "I didn't know why I thought that it might work."
"Maybe it seemed to work on the men you were constantly around with."
"Maybe. Evidently, it didn't, because one afternoon, we had a monstrous argument about everything — the way he was acting, the way I was behaving — and then he shouted, 'I need someone who won't cling to the past, who is ready to accept that things are unpredictable and ever-changing. I need someone who's not you. I regret having loved you at all and proposing to you!' And so..." Julia scrunched up her face so the tears wouldn't fall again. "And so...here I am, attending another Season because I want to prove to him, and to myself, that I don't need him. Or love. I only need stability."
Frederica was silent for a few moments."And did...did Healey promise that stability to you?"
Julia wondered at the tightness she heard in Frederica's voice. "He did." She worried the coverlet. "But you know why I can't marry him now."
Frederica took her hands in hers at that moment, patting it. "I do. You fear having your heartbroken again. That is quite normal. But why do you think Healey would break it? He...he could very well love you. You're an easy person to love."
Julia ducked her head at the compliment. "Am I? But even if I am, loving me and being in love with me are two different things. Healey would likely love me as a friend but I would never be the central most person in his life."
"When you're his wife, would you not take that position?"
She shook her head. "He talked about being friends in the marriage and not of romantic love at all."
"But being friends in a marriage is just as important as romantic love."
She looked up. "Did you marry your husband because you were friends with him or because you fell in love with him, and he you?"
She noted her friend grew shuttered and would not meet her eyes. "I...the circumstances the led to my marriage are not similar to your situation. But he cared a great deal for me and wanted to ensure that I was taken care of. That was enough for me."
Julia felt her brows draw together. "You speak of him as if he is not longer feels that way. Or that he is not with us any longer." Her eyes darted about Frederica's face. "He is...isn't it? He's passed away." At Frederica's nod, she shifted her hands so she could take Frederica's in hers. Rubbing her thumbs along the back of Frederica's hands, she said softly, "My deepest condolences. It must have been difficult."
"We hadn't been married long enough for me to feel that great an attachment. And he was away serving on a royal navy ship when he died."
"Still..."
Frederica squeezed her fingers and smiled. "Thank you for your concern. He was a good man and I've made peace with his passing and my regrets that I hadn't been able to love him the way he did me in the brief months we'd been together."
Julia squealed a little. "So he did love you romantically!" Frederica shrugged."I'm right you know," Julia tried to keep the smugness of out of her voice. "There needs to be romantic love in a marriage."
"Yet you are determined to not marry for love."
Julia bit her lip. "If I could stop being terrified of having my heart broken again, I would."
Frederica drew her into an embrace. "You can and you will. You're a courageous person, Julia. There aren't many people I know who will let go of their old ways and change themselves."
Tears fell. "I...I never saw myself that way. I only did it out of necessity."
"That does not discount your efforts...if...no, when you are ready to marry for love, who would you choose? Mr Shearing or Healey?"
Julia pulled away and hugged her knees. "I don't know." She drew patterns on the coverlet. "I suppose I'd marry whoever loved me more. That way, I won't ever be in a position of having my heart stomped on again."
Frederica sighed. "I suppose that is one way to look at it."
"What about you? If you could marry for love, who would you choose?"
Frederica let out a startled laugh. "I wouldn't be able to choose because there is no one to choose from."
"Surely you have or had someone you love." At the shake of her friend's head, she pressed harder. "There must be! You couldn't have gone through all your years of life and not have met someone whom you thought yourself a little bit in love with!"
"There...there really isn't anyone."
"No handsome village boy? Or a member of the ton? Prinny?" They both burst out laughing.
"Certainly not Prinny."
"Well, there must be someone who caught your eye! How about Lord Healey?"
It didn't escape Julia's notice that Frederica's body and demeanour had become rigid."What about him?"
"Did he catch your eye? I've heard many women — even matrons — comment on his dashing looks."
Frederica shook her head. "No. He didn't."
"He looks at you, you know." Julia searched her friend's face. "Today, during our walk. He'd look over his shoulder at you ever so often."
"Probably to check if Mr Shearing and I were still behind. I was acting as your chaperone after all."
Julia shook her head so vigorously her curls danced about. "No. There was a look in his eye."
"A trick of the light."
"There's-"
Frederica cut her off by standing up and pushing at her shoulders. "You should get some rest, Julia. You must be exhausted."
Julia knew resistance and stubbornness when she saw it. "You're right. I do feel quite tired." And was surprised by the truth of it. "Thank you, Frederica, for listening to me. I feel so much better now that I've let it out."
"No thanks necessary. I'm only doing what you'd have done for me." Frederica pulled the coverlet up to her chin. "Now, rest."
Julia moved the spoons away from her eyes and sat up. It all made sense now! Frederica must still have feelings for Healey. And she suspected that the viscount reciprocated them. But was he aware that Frederica's husband had passed away?
She tapped her chin. Did she dare to play matchmaker to them? If she had the wrong of it, it would make for much awkwardness all around.
But if she had the right of it...she kicked away the coverlet and leapt from the bed. It was a harebrained idea but it might just work!