Judith did not recollect a servant beside her, but she was certain her aunt and uncle had sent someone to fetch her. A child of five could not make the journey alone, yet her memory of arriving in Yorkshire did not include another. Time had eaten away bits and pieces of her memory like a caterpillar munching on a leaf, but as she made her way to the front drive and stared at the building in the distance, Judith recalled the fear and uncertainty she’d felt when she’d stood in that very spot some thirty and five years before.
Aunt and Uncle were no longer strangers, but Judith still felt no sense of homecoming at setting eyes on the gothic building. Judith far preferred to stay with the Hardwickes at the nearby Helmsford Place, but she could not slight her aunt by choosing another’s hospitality over her childhood home—even if Eddleston Hall did not feel like home in any sense of the word.
Shunting aside those musings, Judith made her way to the front door only to find the butler opening the door before she had the chance to knock.
“Miss Delmonte, how good to see you.”
“And it is wonderful to see you as well, Stevens,” she replied with a broad smile. “You are—”
But the butler snatched her portmanteau, giving it to a footman with instructions to deliver it to her room, and divested her of her bonnet and cloak before Judith knew what he was about.
“Your aunt has been asking after you every quarter of an hour since luncheon,” he said, ushering her through the foyer and down the hall. “She has been quite eager to have you at home once more.”
“As I am—”
But before she could say more, Stevens swept her into the parlor, announcing her arrival and leaving in quick succession; the door hardly opened for her before it was shut behind him.
“Oh, my dear, how good of you to arrive at last,” said Aunt Lavinia.
Judith took a deep breath and clasped her hands before closing the distance to the sofa upon which her aunt sat. Bedecked in mourning clothes, Aunt Lavinia was a black mark amidst the flowers decorating the room. The lady held a lace handkerchief to her cheeks and a hand out to her niece, squeezing it when Judith took hold.
“You are a godsend, child,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Your cousin-in-law has no notion of how to run a household, and he will not pay me any heed. But I know you shall set him to rights in a trice. I’ve been doing my best to assist him—I’ve been there nearly every hour since that awful business—but the nursery is in disarray and the housekeeper is atrocious.” Patting Judith’s hand, she added, “You are such a good girl to come.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” she said with a curtsy.
“I know my dear Chloe would be pleased to have you here…” But her words fell short as the older lady burst into tears. Judith took the seat beside her aunt, her travel-weary bones groaning as she lowered herself, but she took her aunt’s hand and held it fast as the lady cried. Judith’s stomach gurgled, and she pressed her free hand to it, though Aunt Lavinia paid it no mind.
It was several long moments before the lady was calm enough to speak. She dabbed at her face and eyes, shaking her head. “I am so pleased you are here to stay with us. I’ve been longing for you to arrive. I am in desperate need of your assistance.”
“And I am pleased to be of service to the Hardwickes. I only wish I could’ve arrived sooner.”
“But you are here now.” Aunt Lavinia patted Judith’s hand again and then motioned to a seat opposite the room. “Do be a dear and fetch me my shawl.”
Rising was even more difficult than sitting, and Judith’s stiff limbs protested the treatment; after three days of travel, her body was in no mood to be tested so, but she strode to the armchair on the far end of the room and retrieved the shawl, stretching it over Aunt Lavinia’s shoulders exactly as she liked it.
“And would you ring the bell for tea?” Aunt Lavinia asked with a wave towards the bell pull. “I haven’t the strength at present. I feel so weak and worn all the time.”
“Of course, Aunt.” Judith did as ordered and returned to her aunt’s side.
“Oh, I am quite muddled for certain,” she said with a shake of her head. “You must be exhausted from your journey, and here I am demanding all your attention. Do go to your bedchamber and freshen up.”
With a bob, Judith left the parlor and made her way up the stairs. Though she hadn't taken the route in many years, her feet knew the path and led her without hesitation up, up, and up. Then down the farthest hall and into her old bedchamber.
Nothing had altered in the years since she’d last stood there. To one side stood a wardrobe, and inside sat several old dresses from her youth all hung exactly as she’d left them. Chloe had given her so very many cast-offs that Judith hadn’t been able to fit them all in her trunk when she’d left Eddleston Hall, and she smiled at the gauzy gowns with their columnar style and high waist.
Moving to the bed, Judith sat down on the narrow cot and stared out the hazy glass. The tiny window was hardly large enough to let in light, but at the right angle, it afforded her a view of the landscape surrounding the estate. She had spent many evenings seated right here, watching the sun set across the moors.
Every inch of the space held memories long past, and while there was a familiarity to it all, Judith felt no connection to the space. Yet another place in which she would pass some time before going on her way once more.
Chapter 30
With a flick of his fingers, Silas released the buttons on his waistcoat and eased back onto the sofa. The view from the parlor was not spectacular, but his gaze was fixed on the windows as he brushed a thumb across the face of his pocket watch. Had Miss Delmonte arrived at her aunt and uncle’s home? Of course, the speed of her journey varied greatly on her mode of transportation and the route, but Silas suspected she was quite adept at planning out her travels in an efficient manner. No doubt, she was already relaxing at her aunt’s side.
But a world of troubles can befall a traveler, even more so for a lady. Silas shook away that thought. Miss Delmonte was capable and intelligent. There was no question that she could manage quite well on her own. Yet, it did not sit well with Silas.
Luckily, the parlor door opened, pulling him from those useless musings, and Silas straightened, buttoning his waistcoat as Helen came to stand before him.
“You asked to see me, Papa?” she asked with all the enthusiasm of a patient addressing her surgeon.
