CHAPTER FOUR
Julia sat down on her new bed, finally alone, and glad of it.
Once Annabelle overcame her initial shyness, she had turned into a whirlwind of childish energy that left Julia struggling to keep up. They had covered most of the large house in an hour, with Julia allowed no more than a swift glimpse inside every room. Julia was certain she would never be able to find her way back through the winding corridors to the schoolroom.
Luckily, Mrs Potter was a warm and sensible woman, who promised Julia a maid would be sent to escort her from one place to the other until she was confident in making her own way.
"You just get yourself nicely settled, and pop on down to the kitchen if you need anything, dear. You'll always find someone there," the housekeeper said, before leaving Julia to unpack in her neat little room.
It was a far cry from Amberley House, where Julia had been able to ring for a servant to satisfy every whim, but it was a far better prospect than the poverty she'd grown up with. Julia knew, despite her nerves, that she had landed on her feet here at Harding Hall. A friendly housekeeper and a lively, intelligent child – what more could a governess want?
Now she was sitting on a bed in the corner of a brightly-lit room, small and sparsely-furnished, with a valise full of new dresses at her side and a stack of letters in her hand from her friends in London, which she had been given with strict instructions to open when she was in Chiltern and missed them.
There was one from the Dowager Duchess, full of good wishes and un-asked for advice about how she should comport herself in the Marquess's home. One from Catherine, the current Duchess of Westbourne, who gave Julia an update on the progress of the new nursery in their country residence, Westbourne Hall. Catherine and the Duke had recently announced that they were expecting a baby.
A third letter came from Alice, the Duchess's younger sister, who had just married and was journeying north with her new husband to join his regiment of the militia. Julia felt a pang as she read Alice's excitement over her new life. Julia was starting a new life, too, and she wished she could be as cheerful about it as Alice was.
The fourth letter, surprisingly, came from the Duke himself. Julia's cousin – though of course, no-one but the family knew that. As an illegitimate daughter of the previous Duke, Julia had always been hidden from society. Harry Marsden, Duke of Westbourne, had treated Julia like family from the moment he met her, but she was too much in awe of his position to receive his welcome comfortably.
Dearest Julia, wrote Harry.
So, you are beginning a new life in Chiltern! I know the Marquess a little and I consider him one of the finest men of my acquaintance; I know he will treat you well. It is strange to me to think that, so shortly after we found you, you are leaving us, but I understand your reasons well. Remember that I myself have suffered for the sins of my relations. I will never hold your brother's wrongdoing against you. You will always be welcome at Amberley House and Westbourne Hall, and Cathy and I will receive you again gladly if you ever need to return. We are family by blood, if not by name. I do not wish you to forget it.
Speaking of family, there is a matter which I did not have time to raise with you before you left. The Duke of Rawly has gifted me a parcel of letters written by the late Duke of Westbourne, my uncle and your father. I know you never met him, but I feel that you have more of a right to his letters than I do. I offered them to the Dowager Duchess, who asked me to read them for her. It will cause the dear lady too much pain to look at them herself.
Therefore, with your permission, I will read through the letters and relay anything of importance to the Duchess and to you.
Your friend,
Harry
Julia folded the letter back into its envelope. It was a sweet thought of Harry's, but really she had no desire to know more about a father who had abandoned her before she was born. The old Duke had never claimed Julia as his natural daughter, but had left her mother to eke out a painful existence on the streets of Seven Dials. She could not imagine that his letters would interest her now.
She would have to write her replies the next morning. Julia was not in the habit of wasting candles when a task could be done just as well by daylight. She busied herself unpacking her clothes, hanging them in a tall oak wardrobe which must have been moved to this little room from a nicer part of the house, and acquainting herself with the moonlit view from her bedroom window.
Would she be happy here at Harding Hall? The letters lying on her leather-topped desk all carried such good wishes with them that it would be churlish not to approach her new life with a heart full of hopes.
Julia allowed herself a single moment to sigh over what she had left behind. She spent a few moments thinking of her brother, Edmund, miserable and alone in the house they'd grown up in, with only himself to blame. Then she changed into her nightgown, blew out the candle, and slept a dreamless sleep.