Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

J udith and Rosy strolled through the garden, the sun filtering through the leaves and casting dappled shadows on the path. It was cold but not unpleasantly so. The chilly wind lent a spring to Judith's step as she had been recounting the events of the previous evening at Almack's, her feelings swinging between frustration and lingering shock.

"… and then he tried to kiss me, right there in the garden," she finished, her cheeks flushing at the memory. "I thought I was going to be ruined. His Grace rushed out at the last moment and planted a facer on him, sending him into the dirt. Otherwise…"

Rosy's eyes widened in shock. "Good heavens, Judith! How terrible! What a despicable man. And to think, all because of the Duke's past with his sister."

Judith sighed, shaking her head. "I know. It's all so tangled. But, Rosy, what if I end up like Lady Lundgren? Forced into a marriage I don't want, all because of societal expectations? Matilda said she'd shelter me if I needed to escape, and she'd talk to Oliver because she feels he misunderstood my father's letter, but you know my brother—he is stubborn as a mule."

"I know it. But perhaps you will meet someone in these next few weeks who will suit you. I am in two minds about the Duke, but at least he saved you, though one could argue it was all his fault."

Judith exhaled sharply. "I know it. It has bothered me for some while. I cannot believe I didn't know his history. Did you?"

Rosy nodded thoughtfully. "I did hear whispers about the Duke being engaged once. It was a long time ago, and it ended badly. But Lady Lundgren is married to a marquess now. Not the worst outcome."

Judith frowned. "It doesn't matter what happened to Lady Lundgren anymore. I'm more concerned about myself and my future. I must do all I can to prevent it from happening to me. I must find someone I like. Someone who is…"

Her thoughts drifted to Aaron and his smile as he spoke of Italy, but she shrugged it off, not wanting to allow herself such thoughts. However, as so often, Rosy had picked up on her thoughts.

"Perhaps you should ask the Duke of Nottingham to pose as your suitor in front of Oliver, to give you more time. It worked for me and Joanna?" Rosy suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. "He's quite the dashing figure, isn't he?"

"Aaron would never do such a thing. He adores my brother," Judith argued.

Her friend's eyebrows rose. "Aaron?"

Judith felt a blush creep up her neck. "He wants me to call him Aaron," she explained, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rosy smirked. "Oh, does he now? That's rather intimate, don't you think? Perhaps he'd be inclined to do more than pretend."

Judith's blush deepened. "It's just a name, Rosy."

"Just a name," Rosy echoed, a teasing note in her voice. "Come now, Judith. You've spent quite a bit of time with him at the ball. Anything else to share?"

Judith felt a knot form in her stomach. She wanted to tell Rosy how she felt when she looked into Aaron's eyes, how strangely hot and flustered she had become when they danced. But it seemed too silly, too impractical. Aaron had broken off a betrothal to remain free and unwed. Thinking of him in any romantic manner was foolish, she reminded herself.

"It's nothing like that," Judith said, brushing off Rosy's teasing. "He's helping me because of Oliver. That's all. He's made it clear he doesn't want to be tied down."

Rosy's smile softened. "Still, it must be nice to have someone like him looking out for you. Even if he is a bit of a rake and almost had you ruined by extension."

Judith sighed. "Yes, but I have to focus on myself, Rosy. Aaron is helping me, and I need to listen to his advice to find a husband before Oliver returns. I want to avoid a confrontation with my brother, Matilda, and everyone else who wants to see me settled."

Rosy nodded, her expression turning serious. "I understand, Judith. It's important to take control of your own fate. But don't forget to look after your heart as well. Sometimes, the right person is the one you least expect."

Judith forced a smile. "I appreciate the sentiment, Rosy, but I can't afford to think like that."

They continued walking, the garden's vibrant colors and fragrant blooms providing a calming backdrop. Judith couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt, though. What if Rosy was right? What if her heart knew something her mind refused to acknowledge?

But there was no time for such thoughts. She had a mission—find a suitable husband and avoid being forced into a marriage she didn't want. She had to trust Aaron's guidance and focus on the goal at hand. There was no room for foolish romantic fantasies.

Judith's fingers glided over the keys of the pianoforte, filling the music room with a delicate, mournful melody. The room, bathed in the soft afternoon light, seemed to resonate with memories. The last time she played here, her father was still alive, and the house was filled with a sense of wholeness she desperately missed. She closed her eyes and let herself slip into the past, imagining the scene as it once was.

Her father sat in his favorite armchair, listening intently, a soft smile playing on his lips. Beside him, Matilda, with her warm auburn hair and gentle demeanor, looked at Judith with encouragement. Her brother John, only ten years old, fidgeted in his seat, trying to sit still but utterly captivated by the music. Even Oliver, who was usually so stern and reserved, seemed touched by the melody, his eyes betraying a rare moment of affection for his sister's talent.

As Judith continued to play, she felt the comforting presence of her mother behind her, looking over her shoulder. It was as if her mother's spirit had returned to the room, drawn by the music and the significance of the day.

Today would have been her mother's birthday, and the weight of that realization pressed heavily on Judith's heart. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she let it fall, unashamed. The music seemed to take on a life of its own, expressing all the sorrow, longing, and love that words could not convey.

Lost in her reverie, Judith did not hear the soft footsteps approaching. It wasn't until the music faltered and she opened her eyes that she saw Aaron standing in the doorway. His presence was unexpected, and for a moment, Judith felt as if her private sanctuary had been invaded. But then she saw the concern in his eyes, and something in her softened.

Aaron stepped into the room, his expression one of sympathy and respect. He did not speak immediately, giving her the space to gather herself. She wiped the tear from her cheek, feeling a bit self-conscious but also grateful for his silent understanding.

"You play beautifully," Aaron said finally. "I didn't mean to intrude."

Judith shook her head, managing a small smile. "It's all right. I was just… thinking of my family."

She felt an unfamiliar vulnerability wash over her as she sat in front of him. His presence, usually steady and composed, now seemed to invite a deeper level of intimacy.

She found herself telling him, almost in a whisper, "It's my mother's birthday today."

Aaron took a sharp breath. "That is right. Oliver told me her birthday would fall during the period he was away. I beg your pardon for not realizing it was today."

Judith closed the lid of the pianoforte and stood up. "It is quite alright, I did not expect you to know. The truth is, the more time passes, the more likely it is to be forgotten. That is in part why I played her favorite tune. I'd forgotten."

Indeed, she had gotten up that morning, dressed, ate her breakfast, and met with Rosy as if nothing at all had happened. It wasn't until Matilda had called on her and asked if she'd like to come to the cemetery with her that she remembered. For it to have been her stepmother, the woman who had taken her mother's place, who remembered instead of her had been jarring.

Still, she'd gone to the cemetery with Matilda, and they'd laid flowers there and read prayers from a prayerbook Matilda had brought with her, and they'd spent some time there until the cold got too much for them. Then, with Matilda back at the dower house, Judith had found herself drawn to the music room, hoping that playing the pianoforte would help alleviate the guilt she felt.

"She passed away three and a half years ago. My father followed her only a week later. Their death dates are so close that it feels like they planned it that way."

"I forgot both my parents' birthdays last year," Aaron admitted quietly, drawing her from her thoughts. "I felt dreadful. I was away with Oliver, and we were taking a tour of the Swiss Alps. Their birthdays were only a week apart, and I… they slipped my mind."

She nodded and shared her experience that day, which seemed to ease his lingering guilt as well. Then, a silence fell between them until he cleared his throat.

"Judith, is this a bad time for me to call on you?"

Judith shook her head. "No, it's all right. Actually, would you come for a walk with me? I want to place some flowers. I went to the cemetery with Matilda, but there is another place I'd like to visit."

"Of course," Aaron replied without hesitation.

Judith fetched her redingote and bonnet, and they set off together.

"Where are we going?" he asked, turning up the collar of his greatcoat.

"There is an elm tree that overlooks the water," she said softly. "It is special to me."

Aaron nodded. "Would you tell me about the elm tree?"

Judith had hoped he would ask. She had to admit that walking and talking to him eased the burden of the day somewhat.

"It's a tree my parents planted when they got married," Judith explained as they walked. "I like to sit there and think of them. In the past, Oliver and I would place flowers there when he was home at this time of year. He wasn't home last year, so I did it alone. And I'm alone again this year."

Aaron's steps slowed, and he turned to face her. "You're not alone, Judith. I'm here with you."

His words, simple and heartfelt, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. She knew he meant what he said as a friend and nothing more, but still, she drew more comfort from his presence than she'd ever thought possible.

They continued their walk in companionable silence, for which she was grateful. She wanted him with her, but at the same time, her thoughts were heavy that day. The path led them to the elm tree that stood tall and proud, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. The tree overlooked a serene stretch of water, its surface shimmering under the afternoon sun.

"This tree has always been a symbol of their love," Judith murmured. "It's where I feel closest to them."

"I can see why. It's a beautiful spot, Judith."

Judith looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "Thank you for being here. It is nice not to be alone. Would you sit with me a bit?"

"Of course," he said and sat beside her at the base of the tree as they looked out over the water.

She glanced at him, imagining how her parents had sat here together when they were young. Memories of her childhood surfaced, and she allowed herself to ponder them for a little while when a thought occurred to her and she turned to Aaron.

"I wish Oliver were here," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"I am certain he'd like to be here too," he replied quickly.

"I don't know." She shook her head, and the wind blew a strand of her hair into her face. "He is always so distant and cold. Even on the days he did come here with me after she died. It was almost as if it was a burden."

Aaron shook his head gently. "Oliver isn't cold, Judith. He's just… different. He's always struggled with the responsibilities that come with being a marquess, especially since your father was so well-liked and admired. He feels he can't measure up. I suspect that wanting to get you married off is something he sees as a way to prove himself."

Judith sighed, wishing she knew her brother the way Aaron did, because Aaron's tone was so filled with conviction—his words brooked no argument.

"Matilda told me this isn't what our father wanted. She said he wanted Oliver to reassure me, to help me find a husband, but not by force."

Aaron nodded thoughtfully. "Oliver wants the best for you, Judith. Although you are right, he might be interpreting things in his own way. He has a habit of doing that."

"Aaron," she said, turning in her spot so she was facing him. "Why is Oliver so… so… You say he isn't cold, but different. I do not understand why. Father has loved him, and our mother as well."

Aaron wetted his lips before replying, choosing his words with great care. "Oliver feels he's been a disappointment to your father. Not because of anything your father said or did, but it is something he has in his own head. He doesn't think he'll ever live up to the standard your father had set, so he decided at a young age not to even try. In some ways, it was easier for me because my father—while rich and respected for his title—was never well-liked. People feared him, and that is how he liked it."

Judith listened carefully. She didn't know much about the late Duke of Nottingham. He had visited on occasion when they were children, but she had no clear memories of him.

"You think Oliver struggles because our father was popular?" she asked, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Indeed, that is exactly what I mean. It is so much harder following in the footsteps of a beloved man than in those of a hated one. I knew that no matter what, people would like me better than my father. But Oliver? No matter what he does, it will be hard to measure up to your father, not just in the eyes of the tenants, but yours, John's and Matilda's. He feels he is fighting a losing battle," Aaron explained, and suddenly, Judith began to see her brother in a different light.

"Still, while I can see that is hard, forcing me to marry isn't going to make me think of him in a higher manner," she pointed out.

Aaron nodded. "We still have a few weeks before he returns. Who knows what will happen? If you meet the right man, all this debating and fretting will be for nothing."

Judith appreciated his reassuring words but still felt uncertain about the future.

"Perhaps," she murmured.

Aaron smiled gently. "Now that we have talked about the things we cannot do anything about, shall we discuss the things we can do something about? Such as introducing you to more gentlemen?"

"Of course," she said, relieved not to have to talk about Oliver anymore.

"Would you like to go promenading on Saturday at Green Park?"

Judith brightened at the suggestion. "I would like that very much."

"Good. Then we can also talk about my reasons for being here," Aaron continued. "I wanted to talk to you about our next lesson."

Judith raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't think I needed more lessons. The evening at Almack's was a big success, despite our troubles."

Aaron chuckled. "It was, but I noticed something. When I went to hold your hand, even for just a split second, you jerked back."

Judith's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The truth was, she had pulled away because of the strange, conflicting feelings she had for him, but she didn't want to admit that.

"I—well, yes," she stammered.

"And I also noticed," Aaron continued, "when you walk with a gentleman, you always put a great distance between you, walking as far away as possible."

Judith nodded, feeling even more mortified. "It's true. I don't like accidentally touching a man's hip with my own."

Aaron smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "That's very proper of you, but gentlemen like it. It's enticing and a little forbidden, but it must be done just right. Also, one must walk close enough to give a taste of what might be in the future."

Judith's face turned a bright red, deeply embarrassed by what he was saying. "Aaron, I?—"

He held up a hand to stop her. "This is part of catching a husband, Judith, and I can show you if you'll let me."

The idea of being closer to Aaron was enticing but also terrifying. She looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Still, she found herself nodding. "I'll try."

"Alright, Judith," Aaron began, his tone light but serious. "Let's start with the basics. When you offer your hand, you need to do it gracefully and with a touch of elegance."

Judith nodded, her fingers trembling slightly. "Alright, but I've never really done this before."

Aaron smiled reassuringly. "That's why we're practicing. Now, extend your hand to me as if you are meeting me at a ball."

Judith took a deep breath and slowly extended her hand, trying to appear confident. Aaron took her hand gently, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "Relax, Judith. You're doing fine."

She tried to relax, but the sensation of Aaron holding her hand was both exhilarating and unnerving. She couldn't help but notice how warm his hand felt, how secure. She was so nervous that she'd do something wrong and act like a fuzzler and he'd think she didn't know how to hold a man's hand. She didn't really need this lesson, she knew how to hold a man's hand. The reason she kept jerking away was him… But she couldn't tell him that. This time, she forced herself to pretend he was someone else, anyone else, and held on to his hand as she would at a ball.

"Perfect. Now, let's move on to the next part. When a gentleman takes your hand, he should lift it slightly and kiss it just above the knuckles. Like this."

He lifted her hand, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her time to anticipate what was coming. Judith's breath hitched as his lips brushed against her hand, and she averted her eyes, unable to look at him as she knew she should. Still, the kiss sent a surge of unfamiliar feelings through her. Naturally, she knew how a gentleman kissed a lady's hand.

"I have had my hand kissed before," she protested.

"I know, but you just looked away when I did it. You should look at the person doing it. I raised my eyes to yours, but you looked away."

Of course, I looked away! I might have fainted otherwise! Why is he making me feel like this?

Judith nodded, unable to find her voice for a moment. "Yes, I did."

Aaron smiled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Let's try again. This time, relax a little bit more. You're holding your breath. And keep your eyes on me."

Judith let out a nervous laugh. "I am not holding my breath!"

"You are," Aaron teased. "Come on, Judith, breathe in and out."

She took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease just a bit. "Alright, here we go."

Judith extended her hand again, this time with more confidence. Aaron took it, and the now-familiar warmth spread through her. As he kissed her hand again, she felt a strange flurry of emotions—the awkwardness of having her hand kissed by a man she was beginning to like more than she should, the thrill of the intimacy, and an undeniable enjoyment.

"Much better," Aaron noted, still holding her hand. "You're a quick learner."

Judith smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "It's not as difficult as I thought."

"See? I told you," Aaron replied, his tone gentle. "Now, there's one more thing. When you're walking with a gentleman, you should allow a bit of contact, just enough to hint at what might be in the future. It's all about the promise, the anticipation."

Judith raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "The anticipation?"

Aaron nodded. "Yes. Like this." He positioned himself beside her, close enough that their hips almost touched. "When you walk, let your hips sway naturally. It's not about pressing against him, just a gentle brush."

Judith felt her cheeks heat up again. "Aaron, this is…"

"I know it sounds a bit scandalous," Aaron said with a chuckle, "but trust me, it's all part of the dance. Here, walk with me."

He took her hand again, and they began to walk back to Worcester House. This time, he walked much closer to her, which caused her entire body to grow stiff and awkward, but as they continued, her confidence grew. She felt the subtle, almost imperceptible brush of their hips and found herself enjoying the closeness.

"There you go," Aaron said softly. "You're getting it."

Judith looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "This is… so peculiar. Lord Peterborough never walked this close to me when we were courting."

She hadn't thought of her ex-fiancé in so long that it felt strange comparing him to Aaron.

Aaron's smile was warm and genuine. "I'm glad you get to experience how it should be. Remember, it's all about making a connection, showing a bit of interest without being too forward."

Judith nodded, feeling a new sense of confidence. "Thank you, Aaron. This has been… enlightening."

Aaron squeezed her hand gently. "Anytime, Judith. And remember, I'm here to help you."

As they continued to walk, Judith felt a sense of contentment she hadn't expected. The awkwardness had melted away, replaced by growing ease and contentment in Aaron's company. Of course, as they walked, she had to remind herself that it wasn't Aaron she was doing this for. And yet he was the only one whose opinion she cared about, the only one she wanted to charm—but it was futile.

She had to remember that he didn't want a wife—not her, not Lady Lundgren, not anyone. He wanted his freedom, and there was nothing she could do to change that fact.