Chapter 8
Julian had not intended to remain in the garden.
He had gone there in search of his sister, expecting to find her where she usually was at that hour, not leaving the boundaries he had set and occupied in a respectable manner. The routine had been established carefully. It was a reliable one, something that they had agreed upon.
What he had found instead had not aligned with any part of it.
Lily did not behave that way, not ordinarily. She did not laugh without restraint, did not do whatever she pleased without first wondering whether or not it would be permitted. She was attentive, measured, accustomed to order every bit as much as he was.
And yet…
Julian’s gaze had settled on them before either of them had noticed him. He had not interrupted, for once he knew that they were safe there had been no immediate reason to do so. He planned to speak with his sister about it eventually, but doing so in the moment would only have upset her.
And so, he had simply watched Lily moving without hesitation, speaking without pause, entirely unguarded in a way he had not seen in…
He could not immediately place when. Her attention was fixed on Eleanor, not seeking approval nor checking herself, but continuing as though nothing about the interaction required any caution at all.
It had been unfamiliar.
And for Eleanor, there had been no visible effort in it. He saw no attempt to direct or control. She had followed Lily’s lead without diminishing it, answered without correcting, allowed the moment to exist without shaping it into something more structured.
It had not resembled instruction, it had not resembled management, and it worked. The image remained with him long after Lily had run off.
Eleanor had fallen into step beside him without comment. The path curved ahead of them, leading away from the more open part of the garden into a quieter area.
"You have established yourself here very quickly," he said.
Eleanor glanced at him.
"Have I? I do not believe that I have done very much at all."
"The staff appear to have accepted your presence without difficulty."
"They are efficient," she replied. "It would be inconvenient for them not to."
"That is certainly one interpretation."
"It is the correct one, I believe."
Julian allowed that to stand.
"And my sister," he added after a moment.
"What about her?"
"She is not easily persuaded."
"No," Eleanor said. "She is not."
"And yet," he continued, "she appears to have decided to be in your favor."
"That suggests she has good judgment," she quipped.
"I have always thought that myself. It is an innate ability that she has, and it is not something that she tends to ignore."
"I would not think too much about it all. Perhaps she is simply trying to impress me?"
They walked a few steps in silence.
"She does not behave as she did just now," he said. "It does not matter who a person is."
"Perhaps she knows that she has no choice as it pertains to me?"
Julian considered it, though it was not possible. Lily had liked Eleanor before they had even decided to marry.
"She requires structure," he said instead, for they would not learn the truth of it. "It is what allows her to feel secure."
"I do not disagree."
"Then why did you indulge in more childish fantasies?"
"I would have said I introduced a game."
"A game is, by definition, childish."
"And she is a child, I will remind you. It is also harmless."
"It is not. It shall fill her head with thoughts, and not the sort that are conducive to her success."
Eleanor seemed rather taken back by that.
Julian knew that what he was saying was ridiculous, but he had to consider everything.
Lily would not be a child forever, and she would soon be expected to be the best of her peers.
It made sense that she would always be ahead of them, even at such a tender age.
"Children should play. An imagination does not hurt her prospects when she will not even make her doubt for more than ten years."
"It hurts her prospects when it disrupts established order."
Eleanor slowed slightly, not stopping, but enough that the rhythm of their walk shifted.
"You place a great deal of weight on order," she said.
"It is necessary for stability," Julian replied. "For a life that can be relied upon to proceed without unnecessary complications. She might not be pleased about it now, but she will thank me one day."
Eleanor looked ahead for a moment before answering.
"And what happens when you are not with her anymore? She is not learning how to overcome her troubles when she is never given any to begin with."
For a moment, Julian considered telling her the truth; that Lily had already overcome far more hardship than most children her age that were in her position.
If he did, he considered, she might understand why he was the way that he was, but he could not do so.
He had no way of knowing how she would respond, and it was entirely possible that she would think it was not as awful as it had truly been.
"The time for her to learn resilience will come. I do not want her to know such difficulty yet."
"But–"
"My decision is final," he said, firmer than intended. "I know that we have said that she is essentially your family too now, but she is my sister. She is my responsibility. You are not her mother."
He swore that he heard her mutter that he was not her father either, but it was quiet enough that he did not question it.
He remained firm, but he knew not to cause too much dissonance when they were technically on their honeymoon.
In spite of how their match had come to be, he did want it to work.
It was in the best interest of everyone for that to be the case, after all.
"You have always viewed the world with a degree of optimism that I have not found particularly practical."
"I would not necessarily call it optimism. I would say it is an unwillingness to reduce everything to their function. Sometimes, things can simply be, and there is nothing wrong with that."
Julian’s gaze shifted to her more directly.
"You place too much value on feelings," he said. "They are inconsistent. They cannot be relied upon."
"That does not make them unnecessary."
"It makes life impractical."
Eleanor stopped then, turning slightly to face him.
"And what you are describing," she said, "is not a life. It is a system, and one that you do not particularly seem to enjoy."
Julian met her gaze without stepping back. He hated how well she read him. He liked his life– any man with the faintest hint of sense would know that he lived a charmed life in which he was more fortunate than most, but did he enjoy it?
Some days he did, at least.
The disagreement settled between them. Neither of them moved to resolve it.
Julian did not want to dignify such an accusation, but he had to.
In one day, she had befriended his sister, broken down her routine, and told him that he disliked the way that he was living.
He would have been furious if she were not correct.
Perhaps, he considered, that was precisely what angered him so much. The path narrowed as they walked, the ground dipping slightly beneath the grass, uneven in places where the soil had shifted.
Eleanor stepped forward without noticing.
Her footing slipped just enough to break her balance. Julian reacted without thought. His hand caught her at the waist, steadying her before she could fully falter. The movement was immediate, precise, and entirely instinctive in the very way he did not want to act.
She stilled. So did he. For a moment, neither of them moved. His hand remained where it had landed, firm enough to hold her but not enough to restrain.
Close enough that the distance between them had disappeared without either of them intending it.
Eleanor’s breath caught, though only slightly. Julian was aware of it. He was also aware that he had not let go. The argument, sharp only seconds before, seemed to fade in an instant.
Eleanor lifted her eyes to his. There was no challenge in them now, no attempt to continue what had been said.
At last, Julian released her. Eleanor stepped back, settling at once, her composure returning as though it had never been interrupted.
"Thank you," she said.
He accepted it with a nod and nothing more, and then they resumed walking. The conversation did not return to its previous sharpness. The points that had been made remained unresolved, but there would be time to discuss such things.
Then again, Julian was not opposed to avoiding it to begin with. It would mean not having to confront her, and keeping his household peaceful, which was the sensible thing to do.
They walked a little further before Julian spoke again, the shift in subject deliberate. He had intended to tell her before, but he had not known how to say it.
"We are expected at dinner tomorrow evening," he said. "At a neighboring estate. The invitation was extended prior to… recent events."
Eleanor glanced at him.
"Tomorrow evening?"
"Yes."
There was a brief pause.
"Is that not rather soon?"
"It is not unheard of."
"But it is so soon after the wedding. Are we not expected to hide away for a while?"
"It will be observed and remarked upon if we do not attend. I had agreed to attend, and I dislike breaking my promises."
Eleanor considered that, her gaze drifting briefly ahead before returning to him.
"Then we shall go. You have made promises to me that I would not like you to break, and so we ought to be the same with others."
"Very well," he said. "You shall enjoy it, believe me. They are a good family, and they will like you a great deal."
"Will Lily be with us?"
Julian tensed slightly. He had not yet told his sister what was to happen, as she was excited to go, but Lily would understand.
"She will not," he explained. "On any other occasion, she would have, but as we have arranged for two of us to be present, I thought it best that you came instead."
Eleanor looked at him in surprise then, and Julian did not blame her for that. He had never put anyone before his sister, and he hated doing it, but it was how it had to be.
They continued walking, the path widening slightly as it led them back toward the more maintained part of the grounds.
She had agreed. That, ultimately, was what mattered. Beside him, Eleanor walked on, giving no indication that anything had been unsettled at all.
"You did not seem to want to answer my question about Lily," she sighed after a while. "She does not know, does she?"
"No, but she will understand. There will be changes now, but she knows that it is all for the best."
"I know, but that does not mean that I wish to upset her. She seems to trust me, and I would hate for her to resent me."
"She will not. You said yourself that she is intelligent and needs to learn how to take difficulties in her stride, after all. This will be good for her, if anything."
In spite of the circumstances, that actually drew a smile from her. She rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head in a way that made her curls bounce softly.
"Very well," she giggled. "I look forward to it all. I will need to find a gown for it, though."
"That is in hand. I arranged for some to be made to your measurements weeks ago. They are in your rooms– did you not see them?"
She looked at him in bewilderment.
"I have not looked. I have been preoccupied with… with everything."
With immersing herself in her new life, Julian realized. She was impulsive, but there was no real harm in her. She was simply happy to be there, and was trying to gain all that she could from it. She possessed a contentment that he never had.
And he envied her for that.