Chapter 20
Julian did not go to the study at once the following morning.
He moved through the corridor without any clear destination in mind, his thoughts also refusing to follow any particular order. Each word exactly as it had been spoken, each shift in her voice impossible to ignore.
He had done what was necessary. The thought came quickly, firmly, as though repetition alone might make it all help him feel better about it.
There had been a boundary that needed to be restored, a line that had blurred the night before in a way that could not be allowed to continue.
What had passed between them had been uncontrolled, and that alone made it unsustainable.
Eleanor did not approach anything halfway, that much had been clear from the beginning.
If he allowed it to continue, if he gave it space to grow without restraint, it would not remain containable.
It would become something else entirely, something that required more than he intended to give, more than he had ever allowed himself to give, so he had corrected it.
He had said what needed to be said, so why did it make him feel so dreadful?
Julian slowed slightly as he reached the end of the corridor, his hand pausing briefly against the back of a chair before he moved on again. She had not argued at the end. That was what unsettled him most.
He had expected anger, perhaps even confrontation, something that would allow him to hold his position against resistance. Instead, she had understood, or at least, she had said she did. It had felt like a decision, and he did not know, yet, what that decision would become.
Julian exhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts back into order.
It was for the best, for her, as much as for himself.
She would not remain caught in something undeserving of her, something that offered more in one moment and withdrew it in the next.
That was not a position he would place her in, regardless of what she believed she wanted.
He could not afford to trust what lay between them.
He turned toward the gardens, the quieter paths offering a distance he could not find within the house. The air outside was cooler, the morning light softening everything it touched, though it did nothing to settle the tension that still lingered in his temples.
A small figure appeared ahead of him before he had gone far.
Lily sat on the low stone wall near the edge of the path, her legs swinging slightly as she watched something in the distance, and she turned the moment she noticed him approaching.
"Julian!"
Her voice carried easily, unguarded in the way it always was with him, though there was something in her expression now that made him slow as he drew closer.
"I missed you yesterday," she said.
"Did you? I was only away for a few mere hours."
She slid from the wall and stepped toward him, her attention fixed entirely on him.
"It felt much longer. You have been home a lot more since your wedding."
Julian considered that. It was true that he had been more available than before, and he knew that was in part due to him enjoying his wife’s company, but had it truly been that different?
"I was looking for you while you were gone."
"I had business in town."
She accepted that without question, though her focus did not shift.
"I was with Eleanor," she said. "We spent the day together."
Julian’s gaze lowered slightly.
"Were you?"
"Of course! It was such fun, though she was not as she usually is."
Julian did not respond immediately. Eleanor must have been so happy the day before, convinced that everything had changed, and he had ruined it. Lily tilted her head slightly, studying him with a seriousness that did not belong to her age.
"Did something happen?"
"No," he said. "Nothing of consequence, at least."
She seemed to consider that, though not entirely convinced. He did not blame her for that, as it was a lie. After a moment, her attention shifted, though not away from him entirely.
"Will she come back, do you think?" she asked.
Julian’s brow furrowed slightly.
"Eleanor is not leaving, I– did she go somewhere this morning?"
Lily shook her head faintly, as though correcting him.
"Not her."
He stilled. There was no need for clarification. The question had been asked before, in different ways and at different times, but there was always the same quiet expectation beneath it.
"She will," he said. "One day."
Lily’s eyes widened slightly at that, something hopeful passing through her.
"When?"
"I do not know. We simply have to wait."
She seemed to accept that, at least for the moment, though she remained close to him, her small hand reaching to catch his sleeve lightly as though to ensure he did not leave again too quickly.
Julian did not move away. Instead, he remained there with her, his gaze shifting briefly toward the house in the distance, where the windows reflected the light.
He had restored order, he had done what was necessary, and yet standing there, with Lily beside him and the memory of Eleanor’s voice still too clear in his mind, it did not feel as settled as it should have.
If anything, it felt like something had been set into motion, and he had no clear sense of where it would end.
Lily did not let go of his sleeve. She stayed close to him as they walked a little further along the path, her attention fixed entirely on him in a way that always made it difficult to offer her anything less than the truth.
Julian did not attempt to move away. He adjusted his pace without thinking, allowing her to remain beside him without needing to match him.
"Eleanor is very good," Lily said. "She is a good lady of the house."
The statement came simply, without preamble, as though it had been forming in her mind for some time and had only just found its way into words. Julian glanced down at her.
"She is. She is good to you, too, yes?"
Lily nodded, encouraged by the agreement, though her grip on his sleeve tightened slightly as she continued.
"She sits with me," she said. "And she listens. She does not tell me to be quiet when I speak too much, not like my governess."
Julian did not interrupt.
"She tells stories, too!" Lily went on. "And she lets me choose what happens next, even when it makes no sense at all. It is far more fun that way."
A faint pause followed, as though she were deciding whether to say more.
"I like her."
"I know," Julian said. "You have from the moment you saw her, and I have never quite been able to work out why."
Lily looked ahead again, her steps slowing just slightly.
"I do not know, either. Julian, I had an idea. She could stay. It could be like before."
"She is staying," he replied. "She lives here now. I told you that before I married her, if you recall."
Lily shook her head faintly, as though he had misunderstood again.
"No," she said. "Not like that."
Julian did not answer immediately. Lily glanced up at him, her voice quieter now, though no less certain.
"She could be like her," she said.
Julian looked ahead, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the path, though his thoughts had already shifted elsewhere.
"A good replacement," Lily added, as though clarifying something that needed no clarification at all. "That is what the staff say."
The word lingered. Julian drew in a slow breath.
"She is good with you," he said at last. "That is what matters."
Lily frowned slightly, her attention returning fully to him.
"That is not what I said."
"I know."
"She could stay properly," Lily insisted, her small voice gaining a little urgency. "She could stay and not go away like–"
She stopped herself, though the rest of the sentence did not need to be spoken. Julian’s voice remained steady.
"She is not going anywhere."
Lily searched his face, as though trying to find something more in his answer, something that matched what she had meant rather than what he had said.
"You like her too," she said. "Maybe that is why I did from the start."
Julian hesitated, though only briefly.
"Yes."
It should have been enough, but it was not. Lily shifted, uncertainty replacing the earlier certainty she had carried so easily.
"You do not sound as though you do," she said.
Julian’s gaze lowered to her again.
"I said that I do."
"But you do not say it properly," she replied.
The simplicity of it made it difficult to answer.
Julian exhaled slowly, though there was nothing impatient in the motion.
"She is kind," he said. "She is thoughtful. She has been good to you, and that is important."
"Then she could stay," Lily repeated, though her voice was quieter now, less certain than before. "She could be like her. She would not leave."
Julian’s jaw tightened slightly, though his tone did not change.
"That is not something you need to think about."
"But I do think about it," Lily said.
"I know, and you should not. You are a child."
Lily’s grip on his sleeve loosened slightly.
"You do not want her to stay in the way that I do," she said.
Julian looked down at her, something unreadable passing through him before it settled again.
"That is not what I said."
"It is what you meant."
There was no accusation in it. Julian did not correct her. Instead, he placed a hand lightly against her shoulder, guiding her back toward the house with a gentle pressure that did not allow the conversation to continue in the same direction.
"You should not concern yourself with such things," he said. "They are not yours to manage."
Lily did not resist, but she did not look reassured either. As they walked, she remained quieter than before. He had agreed with her in the only way he could, and still it had not been enough.
But then, even he could hear the lack of conviction in his voice. There was no doubt that his sister could too.
They had almost reached the house when Lily slowed again.
"Julian," she said, her voice smaller than before.
He stopped. She did not look up at him immediately, her gaze fixed ahead and her hands coming together in front of her as though she needed something to hold onto while she spoke.
"When I said ‘her,’" she continued, "I meant Mama."
Julian had understood, of course. There had been no real ambiguity in it, given the fact she always asked, circling around the same absence without naming it directly. Still, hearing her say it so plainly shifted something in him he had not expected.
Lily glanced up at him then, as though checking whether she had said something she should not have.
"I miss her," she said. "And I always have."
Julian’s breath slowed, though he did not immediately know what to say in response.
This was not a conversation they had ever had so directly, not in all the time since everything had changed.
She had asked questions, small and cautious ones, but she had never said it like this, never placed it between them so plainly.
"You have never said that before," he said at last.
Lily’s shoulders lifted slightly in a small, uncertain motion.
"I know."
"Why not?"
The question came more quickly than he intended, searching in a way he did not often allow. Lily hesitated again, her fingers twisting together briefly before she answered.
"Because I did not want you to think you were not enough," she said. "I did not want you to think I was lonely. You take care of everything. You always have."
Julian did not interrupt.
"I thought if I said it," she added, "you might think you had done something wrong. But I am not lonely now, because of Eleanor."
The statement was simple, offered without complication. There was a twinge of guilt in Julian's chest knowing that he had likely made that more difficult.
"She stays with me," Lily continued. "She listens when I talk, and she does not mind if I ask the same thing again and again. She makes me feel important, and with her here it feels as though our family is complete again."
Julian drew in a slow breath, his gaze moving briefly toward the house before returning to her.
"You should have told me," he said.
Lily shook her head slightly.
"It would have made you sad."
"That is not your responsibility."
"I know," she said. "But I did not want to make you sad."
Julian looked at her for a long moment. She had been protecting him in the only way she knew how, but now she believed she did not need to anymore. He realized that was because Eleanor had filled something that had been empty.
The thought settled heavily.
"We should go inside," he said.
Lily nodded, looking at him for a moment longer as though she was still waiting for something more, something he did not yet know how to give. As they walked, she stayed close to him again, her earlier ease returning in small ways, though not entirely.
Julian did not speak. Her words remained with him, altering the way he understood what he had done the night before, and what it meant beyond himself.
He had believed he was setting a boundary, protecting something that could not be allowed to grow unchecked, but standing there, listening to Lily, it became impossible to ignore the fact that what existed within his house, within his family, had already begun to change.
And it was not in a way that could simply be undone.