Page 42 of The Gentleman Physician

She read Christine’s signature, her new surname signed with enough flourish that Julia could see the contentment in each curling letter. Then she read the whole of the missive again, lingering over her sister’s advice. While Christine’s nature was more impetuous than hers, Julia could see the wisdom in making a clean breast of things with Nathaniel. Hadn’t he done the same to her, in the study? If he could be so free with his speech and his feelings, could she?

But she had only just regained his friendship. That comfort was like a balm to her wounded feelings.

She folded her sister’s letter and held it close to her heart, looking out the window onto the street. Her mind barely took in the carriages passing by, so lost was she in thought.

Could she be brave as her sister urged?

Julia put the letter away in her trunk. Her hand stilled upon the bright blue yarn she’d purchased when deciding to make Virginia a shawl. She fingered the yarn, her heart undecided, then lifted it. She thought best when her hands were busy. Perhaps she ought to consider things more carefully before making a decision.

Chapter Sixteen

“If I have learned anything from all of this, it is that life is far too short a thing to waste on frippery.”

Julia glanced up at Virginia’s words, startled from her work knitting a sky-blue scarf.

The shawl for Virginia was safely tucked away, meant to be a surprise to cheer her. They were in her sitting room, passing the hours between supper and bed together in silent work. Virginia had been industriously repairing some of her sons’ tattered items, trying to keep her hands and mind busy, while Julia reflected on her visit with Lady Huntington and Nathaniel.

“Look at this.” Virginia held up the little pair of breeches. “Look at the size of Edward’s little legs. It seems only yesterday I was embroidering his Christening gown. Now he is a great big boy who tears his clothing, chasing imaginary dragons.” She rested the article on her lap and smoothed out the legs with her hands. “And then there’s Charles. My wonderful Charles. We have not had enough years together, Julia.”

What could she say to such a thing? It was true. Julia knew how fragile life was, having lost her mother only six years previous. She could name fully a dozen people of her acquaintance, without much thought, who had lost a spouse, a parent, or a child before they ought.

“All I can think of is the time I’ve wasted in ridiculous pursuits or childish behavior. Why have I worried what other people think of me? Why did I spend more time visiting near-strangers, for a quarter of an hour to gossip, when I could have been home with my babies or with Charles?” Virginia lifted her needle and stabbed the trousers viciously, pressing her lips tightly together.

Julia lay down her work in her lap and considered her cousin carefully before speaking.

“I cannot imagine how it is to lose a husband. I know you love him. Watching the care you’ve given him, hearing the two of you speak to each other, has allowed me to see what true love in a marriage is like.”

Virginia’s hands slowed and she closed her eyes against her emotion, but a tear fell down one pale cheek despite her efforts. She dashed it away with the hand holding the needle and gasped when it grazed her skin. “Blasted needle.” Virginia stood and thrust the clothing, thread, and needle all into the basket at her feet. “I can’t—” She turned and strode to the window, pulling back the lace curtains, peering down into the night.

“You cannot do this to yourself, Ginny.” Putting her work down with care, Julia went to the window to stand next to her cousin. She wrapped an arm around Virginia’s trembling shoulders. “Please, don’t spend this time in regrets. We cannot stop living because we fear losing the people we love. And we cannot give up when they leave us. Life is about treasuring the happy times, our dearest family and friends, while we have them.”

“It is a pretty speech, Julia, but not one I wish to hear at the moment.” Virginia shook her head and leaned her head against the window pane. “With Gerard contesting the will, there is nothing certain in my future. I only wish I’d spent my time better in the past.”

“What would you have done differently?”

“Only as I said. I would’ve worried less about what people thought of my actions. I would have not complained to Charles about our estate, insisting we renovate and redo the rooms in newer styles. They will all be out of date again within a few years.” She lifted one shoulder in a weak shrug. “I would’ve spent more time with the boys and Charles. Taken them on more picnics, built more snow forts. Things like that.”

“You wish you had made more memories?” Julia asked. When Virginia nodded, Julia continued, keeping her tone soft. “I think you must be easier on yourself, Ginny. After I lost my mother, my world went all to pieces. But being with Christine and Rebecca, sharing our memories of her as often as we could, brought me peace.”

Julia stepped back and turned her cousin to face her. “Charles is not gone yet, and you have your sons. We will find a way to make sure you keep them. I know you must mourn, and there is a time for that, but you must also think of the life yet ahead of you.”

“I am tired, Julia.” The admission came out half sob and half gasp. “And though Charles is still here, it feels as though he has already gone. I miss his arms about me. I miss our conversations. I miss him.” She dropped her forehead to rest against Julia’s shoulder.

Nothing could be said in the face of such grief. Julia could only offer the comfort of her arms and her company to her cousin. Virginia did not cry long, stoically forcing back her emotions.

“I am grateful you are here,” she said at last. “But I must tell you that your visit has troubled me too.” She gave Julia a knowing look, raising her eyebrows.

“In what way?” Julia asked, stepping backward. “Have I been a burden? I haven’t tried—”

Virginia shook her head and a short laugh escaped her. “Dear Julia, no. Not in that way. What I wish to say is that I am troubled by your future plans. You have been a godsend in every possible way. It’s only that I worry you are choosing a path that will not bring you happiness.”

“We had better sit down for this conversation.” Julia moved back to the chairs, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who told me I ought to be a governess or companion, that it would allow me to find independence.”

“You might also remember that I said you shouldn’t rule out marriage entirely.” Virginia sat and folded her hands in her lap. The only evidence of her previous discomposure was her red-rimmed eyes. “I haven’t been entirely blind to your time in my home, dearest cousin.” She paused in an expectant manner, as though waiting for Julia’s confession of some secret deed.

Julia hastily pulled her knitting back into her lap, turning her attention to untwisting the loose yarn. “This will make a very handsome scarf, I think. It’s turning out beautifully.”

Her cousin allowed a few seconds of silence before commenting, her tone far too knowing. “And in such a particular shade of blue, it puts me in mind of someone.”