At nine o’clock, Aunt Lucy rose from her chair and said firmly, “Now my dears, I am going to my room to finish the packing with Martha. In particular, I shall be wrapping the miniature rocking horse very carefully as a happy memento of my dear friend Susannah. Thank you again for letting me have that gift, Mr. Hatton.”
He bowed his head to her briefly in acknowledgment. “I shall not be coming downstairs again until tomorrow morning. But I do expect to hear that Julia has become an expert at the waltz when I see you both then, Christopher.”
Mr. Hatton and Julia rose to their feet and wished her good night as she left the room. For a short while, there was an awkward silence.
Then he said, “Miss Maitland, am I right in saying that Mrs. Harrison used my Christian name to give me permission to use yours?”
“Yes, I suppose that you must be right, for I have never heard her call you that before.”
“Then please come with me now, Julia.”
And he walked from the end of the room around the side of the dining table and held his hand out to her. When she offered hers in return, he clasped it firmly, and they went through the house, pushed the stiff doors open, and entered the ballroom.
There, to her surprise, Julia found that there were four groups of candelabra with the candles already lit. The curtains had been drawn against the night, and the drabness of the decorations did not seem to matter as much as they had before.
“First,” he said, “please stand back over there and I will try to give you a demonstration of my part in the dance.”
Julia stood still at the side of the ballroom, and Mr. Hatton began to hum to himself.
“It is a tempo, like this—ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three.” After he had established the rhythm, he began to move his feet in time, holding his arms out to an imaginary partner, turning his body and crossing the length of the ballroom as he did so, back and forth.
“You are not meant to take this too seriously, Julia!”
As she had been smiling at him since he began to hum the tune, she did not have much difficulty with that.
“ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three,” he continued for a few minutes more.
“Now, Julia, for your part. The ladies have to echo, reflect, the same steps but whilst moving backwards, and facing their partner. That must be more difficult, I suppose? Try it first on your own.”
Julia began to move slowly across the ballroom, humming the tune as she did so, “ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three.”
He smiled at her encouragingly.
Julia then went back in the opposite direction, repeating the tune as she went, “ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three.”
“Bravo!” he exclaimed. “Well done, Julia.”
The sound of her name on his lips gave her such a warm feeling that Julia was able to reply, without any constraint in her voice, “Thank you, Kit. Now what next?”
“Now we must dance the two parts together. You put your hand on my shoulder, and I have my arm around your waist—like this.” And he came towards her, indicating that she should lift her right hand onto his shoulder, then he put his left hand round her waist, and with his other hand clasped her free hand.
The feeling of being so close to him made her feel—she could not have described it in words—there was a warmth, an excitement, a trembling feeling within her that she had never felt before. He said nothing, but he held her hand even more tightly, which made her sure that he felt the same.
After a little while, he cleared his throat and said, “Now, Julia, we must move together. That is, I mean, in the same direction.”
She realised that he was trying to make a joke, and to make some sense of how he was feeling as he began the tune again.
“Now, let us begin. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three. ONE, two, three.”
After an unsteady start, they began to move together as one around the room, from the end by the tall windows to the other, where a tall mirror hung above the stone fireplace. Just occasionally, his slight limp impeded them. Julia could see them both in a reflection in the mirror, looking over Kit’s shoulder at their image as they turned and moved as one. She could not have said how long it was before they stopped, nor would she have cared if the ballroom had been full of people instead of just the two of them—the couple in the mirror.
At last they came to rest, but he did not release her. Instead, he gently took his right hand from her left and held her head against his shoulder.
“Julia,” he breathed, “we must, we have to, find a way to be together forever.”
She could think of nothing useful to say, nor wished to lift her head from his shoulder, storing the memory in her mind so that she might never lose it.
Finally he let her go from his embrace and held her at arms’ length, waiting until she could meet his eyes.
“Julia.” He stopped and could not go on, his voice thick with emotion.
She found the strength to speak. “Kit, we will, I am sure we will somehow. Please, please, don’t make me cry. I am so happy, and this can’t be the end of the story.”
For a moment, she thought that he was going to take her in his arms again. But after a short step towards her, he steadied himself and said, “No, I cannot risk it. I may not be able to control myself, and that is not what I want to happen tonight. Julia, we must go now to the bottom of the stairs, and say good night as we normally do.”
Then he held out both his hands to her, and when she put her hands in his, he lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them once before letting them drop and then leading her to the foot of the stairs.
There he said formally, “Good night, Miss Maitland, and thank you.”
Julia afterwards could not remember how she replied before curtseying to him and turning to go up the stairs.
The next morning, all was hustle and bustle as their trunks were loaded onto the carriage, and the various farewells said to Mrs. Jones and her staff.
If Aunt Lucy was observing them carefully, she did not show it, but said good-bye formally to “Mr. Hatton” before getting into the carriage. Julia and Martha followed her, the coachman took up the reins as Mr. Hatton mounted his horse, and they started down the drive. Most of the time, the road back to Beaminster was too narrow for him to ride beside them but, once they reached the town, the travelling chaise paused in the square, and Aunt Lucy said, “Martha, please go now, and make a small purchase of that Blue Vinney cheese for us to take home to Bath.”
To Julia she said, “Get out of the carriage for a few moments, my dear, and say good-bye to Mr. Hatton.”
Julia did as she was told, and Mr. Hatton dismounted and gave the reins of his horse to the coachman to hold. They walked away from the carriage for a few steps, and then stood together on the cobbled sideway.
Suddenly, something that had been niggling at the back of her mind came to Julia, and she said, “Mr. Hatton, can you please ask Sir James to find out the name inscribed in the church register for the christening of Frank Jepson? And then can you please write to me or to my aunt at Banford Hall to let me know the answer?”
Whatever he had thought she was going to say, it was not that, and all he could reply was “Why, Miss Maitland?”
“Because Sir James said that he was illegitimate.”
He looked at her blankly, and then comprehension dawned.
“So the surname recorded should not have been his father’s?”
“Yes, exactly.”
He smiled at her warmly, and then said out loud, “What a pleasure it is to know someone with such an inquiring mind.”
Then he leant forward and whispered in her ear, “Good-bye, dearest Julia. We shall meet again, never fear, and all will be well.”
She smiled at him, wordless and now almost in tears, before he squeezed her hands briefly, and she got back into the carriage next to her aunt. Once Martha had returned with her purchase, the coach was soon on its way out of the square, and she could not bear to look to see him getting smaller in the distance. Very little was said between them on the way back to Bath. The constraint of Martha’s presence did not allow for any personal conversation, and Aunt Lucy seemed intent on observing the scenery passing by the carriage window. Julia’s mind was full of many thoughts. Although they must have stopped at an inn for the night, in retrospect she had no recollection of its location. Sufficient to say that it was on the second day in the afternoon that the coachman gathered his horses and held them back as they drove down the long hill at Holloway into Bath.
Julia found it odd to be back in her aunt’s house in the city without Emily being there. It was not that Julia minded the house being much quieter, but her friend’s lively presence had been a constant entertainment. Before they went to bed that night, her aunt said, “Tomorrow, Julia, we will discuss how we will occupy ourselves. I am planning to leave for Derbyshire in about six days’ time. Now try and get a good night’s sleep, my dear.”
Julia had not realised how tired she was, and Martha did not wake her the following morning until about ten o’clock. Aunt Lucy had finished her breakfast by the time her niece descended the stairs and was sitting in the drawing room reading another letter from her sister, Olivia, Julia’s mother.
“I should tell you, Julia, that I have no intention of taking Olivia’s advice to travel back through London. You can tell me more in the next day or two about this Dominic Brandon, but it is much more important for you to get home in a happy frame of mind to see your father.”
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