‘Thank you,’ she faltered, the compliment catching her off guard. Usually gentlemen scoffed at her unusual accomplishment. ‘I’m quite protective of it, as you may have gathered.’
‘Indeed. I’ve never met such a fearsome protector of woodland creatures in all my life.’
‘I’m sure many innocent creatures need protection from Navy men.’
Emily inhaled sharply and Uncle George snorted out a laugh while her mother continued to pet Charlemagne, barely noting the exchange.
The captain’s lips tightened in an attempt to keep from laughing and suddenly Julia regretted her impudent tongue. With all she knew of him from Uncle George’s stories, to fire off such forward remarks, no matter how innocent, might give him the wrong impression and it wasn’t very gracious, especially after he’d lied to help her.
‘Shall we sit down?’ Emily interrupted, nervously studying Julia and the captain.
‘Yes, thank you.’ He allowed Emily to escort him to the sofa and chairs near the window, her mother following close behind.
Julia stayed by the door, hoping she could slip away without Emily noticing. Decorum dictated she stay and entertain the captain, but something about him unnerved her. It was one thing to speak so frankly to family, quite another with a stranger, no matter how well he knew Uncle George. Better to leave now than risk another slip.
‘I see you hiding there.’ Uncle George came up alongside her, thumbs hooked in his jacket lapel.
‘I’m not hiding.’
‘Then come and join us.’
Julia smiled half-heartedly, watching the captain as he answered one of Mother’s questions, his smile steady as he spoke. Whatever the captain thought of her unconventional behaviour, he’d already forgotten it. Deep down, some part of her wanted him to notice her, the way he had in the woods. As if sensing her, he shifted in the chair, meeting her eyes, and she turned to Uncle George.
‘No, I have business to attend to.’
‘Leave it for later. I think you’ll enjoy the captain. You two already have quite the rapport.’ He tugged her ear playfully, the way he’d done since she was a child.
The friendly gesture usually made her smile. Today it increased the irritation chewing at her. ‘My work can’t wait.’
‘If you insist. But you can’t hide at Knollwood for ever. Eventually, you’ll have to get out in the world and live.’
‘I’m not hiding,’ Julia protested.
‘Of course not. Silly of me to say it.’ He patted her arm. ‘Go back to the study. I’ll make your excuses.’
Julia left, pausing a moment to listen to the muffled voices, suddenly feeling very alone. Walking through the back sitting room, she took in the sturdy walls of Knollwood covered in hunting prints and old portraits of well-dressed ancestors. Here she felt safe and, when not entertaining guests, confident in herself. Anywhere else she felt awkward and unsettled. What would happen if Charles took this away from her?
She slipped out of the French doors and crossed the garden to the far corner where the tall boxwood hedges hid her from the house. At the centre of this private courtyard stood a fountain of a man and woman locked in a passionate kiss, a copy of some nameless Greek statue. It had been a gift to their father from Paul after his first visit to Greece. Having no use for the statue in the house, her father had it made into a fountain, scandalising Charles, who insisted on hiding it in this secluded corner.
Julia plunked down on the stone bench in front of the fountain, watching the water run over the naked marble bodies. The polished stone glistened in the noon sun, intensifying the urgency of the lovers’ embrace. The man’s fingers dug into the hard flesh of the woman’s thigh, his hands entwined in her hair as she pressed her naked form against his. Her long, gracefully carved fingers rested against the taut muscles of the male’s well-chiselled back. Studying the lovers’ embrace, their bodies so close not even water could separate them, Julia felt her chest constrict. What would it be like to inspire such passion in a man?
Picking up a small stone, she flung it into the pool at the base of the fountain, sending a large splash up and over the side. Reaching down for another rock, she heard the pitter-patter of paws on gravel as Charlemagne barrelled down on her. The small dog threw his front paws up on her knees, his wagging tail shaking his whole body as Julia stroked his soft fur.
‘I thought I’d find you here,’ her mother said, scooping up Charlemagne and sitting down next to her.
‘Did Emily send you here to chastise me for not being a perfect lady?’
‘Emily is a sweet girl, good for Charles and I adore her,’ her mother remarked, settling the wiggling dog on her lap. ‘But I seldom listen to her advice or Charles’s. I suggest you do the same.’
‘I’ve tried, but it only makes them more persistent.’
‘Yes, he takes after your grandfather in that regard.’ Charlemagne refused to be still and Mother put him on the ground. ‘You’re worried about Charles taking over Knollwood, aren’t you?’
Like Uncle George, Mother could be very direct and Julia found it both helpful and at times hindering. She watched Charlemagne sniff around the fountain, jumping back when an errant bead of water landed on his nose.
‘When he does, what will I do?’ Julia choked, digging the toe of her boot into the ground.
‘I think you’ll find something. You’re much more resourceful than either Charles or Paul.’
‘But what else could there possibly be for me?’
Her mother took Julia’s face in her hands, pushing a strand of hair off of her cheek. ‘That’s up to you to discover.’
She kissed Julia’s forehead, then rose, snapping her fingers at Charlemagne.
‘Do I hide from the world here?’ Julia asked before her mother could leave.
‘Who put such an idea in your head?’
‘Uncle George.’
The older woman laughed softly. ‘Since when do you take my brother seriously?’
Julia shrugged. ‘Emily and Charles are always saying it, in their own way.’
‘I think only you know the answer.’ She strolled out of the garden, Charlemagne close on her heels.
* * *
The quick click of a lady’s perturbed step drew James to the morning-room door. Miss Howard strode into the entrance hall, moving like a tempest, oblivious to everything but her own energy. Fascinated, he wanted to draw her out, but hesitated. Better to let her go than risk the blunt blow of her dark mood. However, something in the troubled frown on her pretty face prompted him to speak.
‘Miss Howard?’
The stomping girl vanished, replaced by an awkward young woman conscious of the world around her. ‘Yes?’
She stood on the bottom stair, one small hand on the oak banister, poised like a doe to flee. He wondered what had happened to make such an exuberant creature so timid. ‘I want to apologise for this morning. You took me quite by surprise.’
‘Yes, I imagine I did.’ She moved to leave, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
‘I don’t usually meet young ladies in the forest so early in the morning.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ she demanded with startling directness.
‘You didn’t ask,’ he laughed, his mirth evaporating under her stern glare. ‘Allow me to apologise.