Chapter 16 #2
She held his gaze for a moment longer, as though ensuring the meaning had settled, then turned toward the door. Her hand paused briefly against it.
"She is very fond of you," she added, without turning.
Julian did not reply. The door closed softly behind her, and the room was quiet again.
But it was not as it had been before.
Julian did not remain in the study. The silence Eleanor left behind did not settle as it usually would. It lingered instead, her words refusing to fade.
Lily needed more. He moved before the thought had fully resolved.
The corridors were quiet as he stepped out. He did not question where he was going. The direction was instinctive.
He found Lily near the smaller garden, not far from the terrace. She was no longer with the others. A maid stood at a distance, watching without interfering, while Lily crouched near a patch of flowers, her attention fixed on something at ground level.
Julian slowed as he approached. She did not notice him immediately.
"What are you doing?"
Lily looked up at once.
For a brief moment, something like surprise crossed her face, as though she had not expected him to appear there at all.
"I found something," she said.
Julian stepped closer, though not too close so as not to crowd her.
"What is it?"
Lily shifted slightly to the side, making space without being asked.
"A beetle."
He looked down. It was nothing remarkable; a small, dark bug that was moving slowly along the edge of a leaf. Lily, however, watched it with complete focus.
"It is not very interesting," Julian said.
"It is," she replied. "You simply have to look properly."
He did not contradict her again. A brief silence followed, though it was not entirely uncomfortable.
"You have been outside for some time," he said.
"Yes."
"With Eleanor."
"And the others."
Julian had to nod along at that.
"You seemed occupied."
"I was playing."
He hesitated, then added,
"Did you enjoy it?"
Lily glanced at him, as though measuring the question before answering.
"Yes."
There was no elaboration. Julian remained where he was. He might have left then, but he did not. Already, he could see what Eleanor had been talking about.
After a moment, Lily spoke again, her attention returning to the beetle.
"I shall be walking with them again tomorrow."
"Will you?"
"Yes. At least, as long as you say that I can."
Julian considered that, then said nothing further. He did not want to be the one to refuse her, and the more he searched for a reason as to why she could not go with them, all that he found was proof that he was not being a good older brother, and certainly not a good husband.
His main concern when searching for a wife was always going to be finding a lady that was content to spend time with Lily. This was what he had wanted, and now that he had it he was upset about it.
He was, he realized, jealous.
"Will you come too?" Lily asked.
"I have other responsibilities," he said. "You know this."
Lily looked back at the beetle.
"You always do."
There was no complaint in it, only fact, but Julian felt the weight of it more than he expected.
"I will see," he said at last.
Lily nodded, as though that was sufficient. The moment settled again, quieter. After a time, Julian straightened slightly.
"You should not remain out here too long," he said.
"I will not."
He hesitated, just briefly, then he turned and left.
Later that evening, the house came to life, and Julian played his part, but he was also eagerly awaiting the time that he could return to his study.
Once he was able to make his escape, Julian stood in the study once more, though his attention was not on the papers before him. The events of the day lingered, and they were too difficult to set aside.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
The housekeeper entered, her smile wide.
"You wished to review the arrangements for the week."
"Yes."
She stepped forward, placing a small ledger on the desk. Julian glanced down at it, though his focus remained elsewhere for a moment longer.
"There will be visitors," he said.
"Yes, my lord. Lady Harrowby has already given instruction."
"They are to be received without restriction," he added. "And they are to be accommodated as needed."
"Of course."
"As for the child’s routine," he continued. "It may be adjusted as you see fit."
The housekeeper did not react outwardly, though Julian did not doubt that she was as surprised about his suggestion as he was.
"In what way, my lord?"
Julian considered it.
"Outdoor time is not to be limited unnecessarily," he said. "And if she wishes to spend time with my wife or her guests, she is to be permitted to do so."
"Yes, my lord."
There was a brief silence.
"Provided it does not interfere with her instruction," he added. "Her governess will say whether or not they are otherwise occupied."
"Of course. Shall I inform the staff of this?"
"Yes. I would like them all to know as soon as you can."
She gathered the ledger again, then paused.
"Is there anything further?"
"No," he said. "That will be all, thank you."
She inclined her head once more and withdrew. Julian remained where he was, his gaze resting on nothing in particular.
The house was exactly as it had always been, and yet, not entirely the same.
Julian did not return to his papers. The study remained as it was, everything in its place, nothing requiring immediate attention. The quiet should have been enough to restore order to his thoughts. It did not.
After a time, he left the room again.
The house had settled for the evening. Lamps were lit, doors closed, voices quieter and more distant. He moved through it without direction at first, though his steps slowed as he passed the smaller sitting room.
Light came from beneath the door.
He wanted to continue. Instead, he stopped. The door was not fully closed. Through the narrow space, he could hear Eleanor’s voice, low and even, carrying just enough to be understood without effort.
"…and then she decided the knight had made a terrible mistake," she was saying.
A small voice interrupted her.
"Because he was foolish."
"Not entirely foolish," Eleanor replied. "Only very certain that he was right."
"That is the same thing," Lily said.
"It is not always," Eleanor answered. "Though in this case, it may have been."
A pause followed, softer now.
"What happened after?"
"He listened," Eleanor said. "Eventually."
There was a brief silence.
"Did he say sorry?"
"No," Eleanor said. "He did something better."
"What?"
"He changed his mind."
"That is more difficult," she said.
"Yes," Eleanor replied. "It is."
Julian moved on at last.
The corridor stretched ahead of him, quiet again, though the stillness no longer settled as easily as it once had. He passed through it without pause, each step taken as though routine alone could restore something that had changed.
It did not.
By the time he reached his room, the house had fully withdrawn into quiet. The door closed behind him, shutting out the last trace of voices, of movement, of anything that did not belong entirely to him. He stood there for a moment, the quiet pressing in exactly as it always had.
Eleanor’s words returned, uninvited.
She needed more.
He crossed the room, stopping at the window without looking out. The glass reflected only the dim light behind him, offering nothing beyond it.
This had been the intention: a life without complication, without uncertainty, but something in it had shifted.
Julian exhaled slowly, forcing the thought back, forcing it into place where it could be contained, and then dismissed.
This, his growing affection and admiration, changed nothing. It could not.
And yet, even as he turned away, the certainty did not settle as it once would have.