She looked at the shoes for a long time, running the tips of her fingers along the leather and turning them over and then back. Then she caught sight of a small folded piece of paper nestling on the silk inside the box. She picked it up and loosened the seal, unfolded the edges, and read the words written on the paper.
There was a short message in neat handwriting that said, “As I know that you like red shoes, I hope that you will accept these. They were made for a lady who did not have the chance to wear them. Thank you for visiting us yesterday.”
Julia read, and then reread, the message. She recognized the writing. The gift had not come from Jack Douglas, or from his father. And from the description of the messenger, he had taken the trouble to deliver the shoes himself, since neither Jack nor his father could accurately be described as a tall young gentleman.
But Kit Douglas knew exactly where Julia had left her old shoes.
She had taken them off in the hall to put on her riding boots, and it was he who had given them to the butler for safekeeping. A servant could have been told to return them to her, so why had Kit Douglas not arranged that? And why had he wanted her to have these particular shoes, or decided to deliver them himself?
Julia folded the piece of paper neatly and put it back on the silk in the bottom of the box. Then she placed the shoes on top of the paper and replaced the lid on the top of the box.
Fortunately, it did not seem likely that either Sophie or their mother would realise what had happened, at least until someone mentioned the gift to Jack Douglas or to his father.
Or perhaps Mr. Douglas was already aware of the gift? It was all very puzzling.
Harriet, her youngest sister, was due back from school later that day, so Julia had little opportunity to reflect on the matter. Harriet was full of news about her friends at the school in Bath, and of the latest fashions being worn by the Ton in the city. She was keen to show off the new clothes that had been purchased for her by their maternal aunt, Lucy Harrison, a wealthy widow who lived in Bath.
Harriet opened the lid of her battered old school trunk, lifted the sheets of tissue paper hiding the clothes beneath, and revealed her new gowns. On top was a walking dress in soft green velvet, with looped sleeves and braided fastenings over an embroidered muslin skirt.
“Oh, Harriet,” said Julia, “how fashionable you will look in your new green outfit! Is that just the latest thing in Bath? And everything matching—it’s so delightful!”
Harriet took out some of the other things that her aunt had given her. There were two silk dresses, one in cream and one in grey, a beautiful pelisse edged with fur, some matching grey gloves in the softest leather, and a beautiful hat in cream felt trimmed with grey feathers.
“You may borrow some of my new things if you like, Julia,” said Harriet, “for we are just the same size, and the colours will suit you.”
That was the refreshing thing about Harriet, Julia reflected; she was always generous and cheerful, and never as thoughtless as Sophie could be.
“Perhaps I could wear your new green costume when I visit the Brandons at Cressborough Castle with Papa next week?”
“How grand to be visiting the Earl and Countess! But of course, Julia, you must look your best for that visit. Will you be seeing Freddie and Emily?”
“I think not,” Julia replied. “In any case, the purpose of the visit is to meet Dominic, the elder brother. It is all part of Mama’s great new plan to marry me off to someone wealthy and, if possible, with a title.”
Harriet had not been at home when their parents had discussed with Julia what her future should be now that their family’s fortune had been reduced and their father was unwell.
“Why? What great new plan? Have you had a formal invitation from the Earl and Countess, Julia?”
“Yes,” said Julia in a puzzled tone. “I have asked Papa why they should consider me as a possible wife for Dominic, but he has no idea. Mama, as you can imagine, is overcome with delight, and considers the match already made. But Papa wants me to have more choice, so we have been to see the Douglas family, too.”
“But Julia, you have always said that you would only marry for love! Even from Bath I have heard that Dominic Brandon leads such a wild life in London. And anyway, it was always Freddie that you liked best, not Dominic.”
Julia sighed. “Freddie is the younger son, Harriet, and will only inherit a small income. Mama is determined that I should marry well, so that I can look after the two of you if anything happens to Papa.”
“How dreadful!” cried Harriet. “Why did you have to agree to that?”
“I have not agreed to it, at least not yet. At present, I feel like a piece of meat in a shop window, being pushed and prodded by the customers before they decide which one will buy me.” And Julia burst into tears.
“How dare they, Mama and Papa? Surely it is not necessary to you to be forced into a marriage that you don’t want?”
Julia sniffed into her handkerchief, wiping the tears from her eyes before anyone else came into the room.
“We went yesterday to meet Papa’s friend Mr. Douglas, and his elder son, Jack. Harry Douglas is very wealthy, and Mama says that I could marry his son instead. Their house, Norton Place, and the park are very grand. Sophie liked Jack Douglas and says that I should marry him. But, as you know, Sophie and I never agree about anything like that.”
“I do hope that you do not have to choose between someone whom only Sophie likes, and a future earl who loses money at the gaming tables. Emily says that Dominic has some fancy ladies in keeping in London.”
“Harriet!” said Julia. “What do you know about fancy ladies in London?”
“Quite a lot, because some of my school friends have brothers who know all about that,” said Harriet without any trace of embarrassment. “In fact, some of them have older brothers who have fancy ladies of their own! But who wants to be married, even if her husband will become an earl, if he will never be at home, and never be faithful to you?”
Julia did not have an answer to that question, although she had asked it of herself many times over the past few weeks. What kind of choice did she have—between someone who seemed to like horses and farming better than people and a rake who preferred to live the high life in London, and who would expect her to socialise in the highest circles in the city, however boring that might be?
“Isn’t there anyone else, Julia, who might offer for you? Our family has lived in this area so long, and we know so many people. Why aren’t you allowed to choose for yourself?”
“The problem is money, Harriet. The failure of the bank in Derby means that we can now have only a small dowry each. And since David will not inherit the estate, we shall not be able to stay here if—that is when—something happens to Papa. Not every family wants their son to marry a young lady who is in that situation.”
Clearly, Harriet had not realised this.
She should not have to worry about dowries and shortage of money, Julia thought. So she changed the subject, asking Harriet about her last term at school and about Aunt Lucy.
“Just think, Julia, no more school for me! Aunt Lucy says that I am quite the grown-up young lady now that I am sixteen.”
Julia smiled at her. “Yes, even more grown-up than Sophie!”
“Yes, exactly, for you always say that Sophie acts like the baby of the family, and it’s true.”
“When you get to be twenty like me, you will find that you do not always feel grown up, especially when things start going wrong in your life.”
Harriet put down the dress that she had been holding and gave Julia a loving embrace. “It will turn out all right, you’ll see! I’ll make sure that it does.”
With all the excitement of Harriet’s return, Julia was tired when she went to bed that night and slept rather better than she had expected. After breakfast on the following morning, her father called her into his study.
“Julia, your mother tells me that a parcel came for you yesterday, from Mr. Douglas?”
Julia hesitated. She had never lied to her father and felt even less likely to do so now that he was unwell.
“Yes, the gift was a pair of new red shoes, like my old ones, but beautifully made, very expensive.”
Her father looked at her with curiosity. He could sense from the tone of her voice that that was not the whole story.
“I have not told Mama, but I found a note at the bottom of the box.”
He looked at the expression on her face, nearly said something, then did not.
She hesitated again, then added, “I do not believe that the gift came from Mr. Douglas.”
“Why not? May I see the note?”
“Shall I fetch the box? It is in my room.”
He paused. “No, perhaps it would be better if I came with you and saw it there.”
They went upstairs along the wide corridor into her bedroom and closed the door. Julia opened her cupboard, removed the box from beneath the dress that she had laid on top to conceal it, and put it on the bed. Then she closed the cupboard and gave the box to him.
Her father took off the lid. He looked at the rich silk lining, and then took out one of the red shoes.
As Julia had done, he ran his hand along the smooth leather. He looked at her, smiled, then took out the other shoe and put both of them on her bed.
“So this is the note?” he said, looking at the piece of paper still in the box.
“Yes. Please read it.” And she sat down on the bed and waited.
Her father read through the note slowly, and then read it again. He looked thoughtful. “No, this was not written by Harry Douglas. I would guess that the author is Kit?”
“Yes, I believe so. I recognized the writing—from the lists that he had made of the books in the library.”
Her father looked at her warily, then said slowly, “Julia, young men do not normally give a valuable gift to young ladies whom they have only met on a single occasion.”
“Yes, I know. And I guess that the shoes may have been made for his mother.”
“Did Harry Douglas tell you that his wife had died just before Kit returned from Spain?”
“Yes.”
“Julia, who knew where you had left your old shoes in Norton Place?”
“Kit Douglas gave them to the butler himself for safekeeping before we went out for our ride.”
Her father looked out of the window for some time, then back at Julia.
“I am not sure quite what to say to you about this. He is the younger son, and you know very well that it is Jack who will inherit the estate. His father told me that Kit had joined the military hoping that he might make his way in the world, since he will only have a modest income otherwise. I would guess—you do not need to answer me—that you might like Kit much better than his elder brother. But it is Jack who could provide you with a secure future.”
“All that you say is true, and I did like Kit better than Jack.”
She felt tears welling in her eyes and fought to hold them back.
“Oh Papa, why cannot life go back to being like it was before the bank in Derby failed and then David was killed? Then I could have done as I want to, and marry whomever I like.”
Her father answered the implied question. “Your mother only has your best interests at heart, and she is trying at the same time to secure the future of both your sisters.”
Julia said nothing, for they had debated all this before, and it was all true. She felt that she was in a prison, with the gates about to close, and with no other options open to her.
Her father sat down beside her on the bed and took her hands in his, and they sat there side by side, and nothing was said for a short time.
Then the sound of voices in the distance reminded them that the rest of the family would be wondering where they were. She put the box back in its hiding place, her father took her hand, and they went downstairs.
“Papa, am I going with you and Julia to the castle next week?” demanded Sophie.
Her mother answered for him. “No, you have not been invited, only Julia will be going with Papa.”
“But I would like to see Emily, for she is my friend as well as Julia’s!”
“I understand that Emily may not be at home, but in any case that is not the purpose of the visit.”
During the remainder of that week, Julia thought once or twice of telling Harriet about the note with the red shoes. It was not that her sister would tell Sophie anything, because Julia knew that Harriet was good at keeping secrets. It was more that Julia herself could not decide how she felt about the situation.
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