Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

J ulia felt stares upon her face before she heard the whispers.

"Miss Fairbanks is like a princess," an awed, small voice said. "I wish papa woke us when they arrived last night!"

"She is more beautiful than a princess," another voice refuted. "Should we hurry and sneak away before Mrs. Tilby notices we are missing from the schoolroom?"

"I do not know. I want to wake her, but papa says we must allow Miss Fairbanks to sleep as she has had a h … h … I cannot recall the word."

" Harrowing ," the other sister supplied.

"Yes, a harrowing time these last few days."

"What do you think papa meant?"

"Perhaps she ate too many candies like we did that time and we got ill."

Julia tried her best not to chuckle as she listened to the soft, earnest voices. After she entered the manor last night, exhaustion had overwhelmed her so she had refused a dinner tray, followed the housekeeper to a bedchamber, stripped off her clothes, and promptly fell asleep. Now, as the whispers continued, she struggled to keep a smile from her lips, charmed by the innocence and curiosity of the children. They already reminded her of her darling niece, Lily.

Slowly, Julia allowed her eyes to flutter open, pretending to wake naturally. Two small figures stood at the foot of the bed, their wide, curious eyes fixed on her.

"Hullo," Julia said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

The girls gasped, their eyes widening further in surprise and delight. They were remarkably like their father, with the same striking silver eyes that gleamed with intelligence and mischief. However, unlike Rafe's dark hair, theirs was a soft, golden blonde, neatly tied back with ribbons that matched the pale blue of their dresses. The dresses themselves were charming—simple yet elegant, with lace trimming the collars and hems. The girls vibrated; their excitement barely contained.

"You must be Lady Grace and Lady Emma," Julia said, her smile widening. "You are the ones who look like princesses."

The girls giggled in unison. They beamed at her, clearly thrilled by the notion, their youthful energy filling the room with warmth.

"We were waiting for you to wake up," Grace said, her voice a mixture of shyness and excitement.

"So we could watch you marry papa!" Emma added, her eyes shining with anticipation. "But Mrs. Tilby said we have to do our studies until you're ready."

Julia chuckled softly, charmed by their enthusiasm. Mrs. Tilby sounded strict. Conscious she was naked beneath the coverlets, Julia held it against her and sat up in bed. "I promise I won't keep you waiting long," she said, reaching out to gently touch their hands. "I will hurry with my preparations and meet you both in a few minutes."

The girls exchanged delighted looks before dashing from the room, their laughter trailing behind them like a melody. Julia watched them go, her heart swelling with warmth. They were utterly endearing, and the thought of becoming a part of their lives filled her with a sense of both responsibility and joy.

Julia slipped from the bed and rang the bell for a servant. Her gentleman's clothes from the previous day had been freshly laundered and folded neatly on a chair by the window. A bath was prepared for her, and she lowered herself into the large copper tub, the heated, rose-scented water soothing her muscles as she reflected on the unexpected turn her life had taken.

"Why do I not feel scared at the thought of marrying Rafe?" she murmured, collecting the water with her palm and tipping it over her face. "What if I am making a mistake?"

Though she asked herself the question, no doubt or uncertainty crept into her heart. Julia realized it was perhaps because she was so drawn to him, and if he had wooed her, she would have been endlessly delighted. Also, their marriage would make her mother and Lady Celdon quite pleased and no longer worried about her being ruined.

After her bath, Julia sat at the vanity, allowing the maid to brush her hair until it shone lustrously in the morning light. The maid seemed shocked by her choice of attire, but helped her dress in the trousers, shirt, and waistcoat. Julia chose to let her hair remain free, rippling over her shoulders and back.

Just as she was finishing, the door opened, and Rafe entered the room. Her heart fluttered, or maybe it was her stomach. He paused for a moment, smiling at the sight of her dressed once again as a gentleman.

"I apologize," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "I was so impulsive last night that I did even think about the clothes you would need for a wedding. We can wait until you have something more appropriate."

"No, I am perfectly happy to marry you in trousers."

Rafe stared at her as if she were the most fascinating creature he had ever encountered, a look of admiration and something deeper flickering in his gaze.

"Have you no dreams of a grand wedding or bridal trousseau?" he asked with soft intensity. "I can give them to you."

That warmth spread throughout her body again. "I do not want to wait. I have been to many weddings these last few years. I have eleven siblings, and I am the only one that is unmarried. I confess I have never thought about having a large wedding, only the man that would one day move my heart to marry."

"Your family—"

"Will understand that this is my moment to be a little bit wicked and will celebrate with me however I wish in the future."

"An unusual family dynamic," he murmured.

Julia smiled. "We love and support each other in all that we do."

Without another word, he extended his hand to her, and she took it, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. He led her downstairs, where the girls were waiting eagerly in the hallway.

"Julia, I'd like you to formally meet Lady Grace and Lady Emma," Rafe said, his voice warm with affection as he introduced his daughters. "And this is Mrs. Tilby, their governess."

Mrs. Tilby, a stern-looking woman with kind eyes, offered a polite nod. "Miss Fairbanks, a pleasure to meet you."

Julia returned the gesture, her attention quickly shifting back to the girls, who were practically bouncing on their toes with excitement.

"We picked these for you," Grace exclaimed, holding out a small bouquet of wildflowers.

The flowers were a cheerful mix of colors—daisies, buttercups, and lavender, their delicate petals still glistening with dew.

Julia accepted the flowers with a smile, deeply touched by the gesture. "Thank you, they are beautiful," she said, her heart swelling with affection for the two little girls.

Together, they walked into the library, which had been transformed. Julia gasped.

"Papa has been working with the staff to have this perfect for you, Miss Fairbanks," Emma chirped.

Rafe scowled and tugged his cravat as if it were tightening around his throat. Julia lowered her head, so he did not see her smile and ventured deeper into the room. Flowers were everywhere, filling the room with a sweet, fragrant aroma. The sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden glow over the scene. It was simple, yet so lovely and perfect.

The local vicar stood ready, a gentle smile on his face as Rafe and Julia approached. Rafe's hand remained firmly in hers, and as they exchanged vows, she felt a deep sense of rightness, as though this was exactly where she was meant to be.

When the ceremony was over, Rafe kissed Julia on the cheek, a tender yet fleeting touch that sent a tremor through her heart. The reality of it all—the vows they had exchanged, the new title she now bore—washed over her in a dizzying wave. She was now the Countess of Ashton. The weight of it settled on her shoulders, making her feel both exhilarated and faint, as if the enormity of the situation was only just registering with her senses.

Grace and Emma beamed up at her with radiant smiles, their joy infectious, and even Mrs. Tilby smiled.

"The girls must return to their lessons, my lord," Mrs. Tilby said, her tone gentle yet firm. "My lady, if you will excuse us."

The girls' faces fell, their excitement dimming as they obediently shuffled away, casting longing glances back at Julia. For a moment, she almost called them back, wanting to hold onto the warmth of their presence, but she bit her lower lip and resisted the urge. She glanced up at Rafe to find him staring at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

His gaze was dark and consuming, as if he wanted to devour her whole. Her belly chose that moment to grumble loudly, and she laughed, the sound breaking the tension.

"Allow me to escort you to the breakfast room," he said, with a wry smile.

He led her from the library, down a grand hallway lined with impressive paintings, each frame telling the story of his lineage, his heritage. The house was vast and imposing, and so very lovely.

As they entered, Julia noticed the servants casting startled glances her way, a few eyes lingering on her attire with barely concealed curiosity. The smell that wafted from the breakfast room was warm and inviting.

Rafe inclined his head in a small bow. "I have matters to attend to. I will not join you, as I have already eaten."

Was it her imagination, or was there an air of awkwardness about him?

"I understand," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes lingering on her before he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the breakfast room. Julia sat down and was soon presented with a delicious array of food and ate toasted bread slathered with strawberry preserves, crispy bacon, eggs, sponge cake, thinly sliced ham, and three steaming cups of hot chocolate. The meal was divine, but she could not dismiss the niggling sense of aloneness that settled in the pit of her stomach.

Julia lingered at the table long after she had finished eating, her thoughts drifting to the man who was now her husband. Rafe had already returned to his duties, as if their marriage was just another task on his agenda. Perhaps, for him, it was. Julia inhaled deeply, trying to think practically, not letting her emotions guide her.

We are only just wedded , she reminded herself. This match was unexpected for both of us. It's natural that he would return to his daily routine .

But the truth was, Rafe was not in love with her. And she was not yet in love with him—though she was already endlessly fascinated by him. But fascination was not enough. Julia wanted more. She wanted their bond to grow into something deeper. She wanted them to love each other, truly and passionately.

"And that cannot happen without knowing who my husband is, and Rafe knowing who his wife is," she whispered to herself.

Julia had always dreamed of marrying for love, and just because she had been thrust into this marriage by a compromising trap gone wrong did not mean she had to resign herself to a life of mere respectability and politeness. She wanted more than just a pleasant, companionable marriage—she wanted his heart. And she had never been one to shy away from reaching for what she desired.

Her thoughts drifted to the night ahead—their wedding night. The mere thought made her pulse quicken, and a blush spread across her cheeks. She had no notion of what to expect, only vague ideas from whispered conversations with her sisters. But one thing was clear: if she was to win Rafe's heart, it would begin tonight.