Chapter Eighteen

Juliet stared at herself in the mirror as her maid continued to fix her dress for her. She was in a lacy silver gown embroidered with several side adornments. It also came with a silky pair of arm gloves and a headdress. This was a new dress, one she had kept hidden in her wardrobe ever since the dressmaker brought it. She had planned to only reserve it for the most special of occasions. Now, one of those occasions had come, and she could almost burst with joy.

"Is she here yet?" Juliet asked, looking through the window.

Estelle moved to Juliet's back, starting to tie her corset. "Even if she were, you wouldn't be able to see her from out there."

Juliet felt a happy shudder run through her body. "Isn't this exciting, Estelle? I haven't seen her in months."

"Since you got married. I remember." Estelle replied. She started to inspect Juliet's hair as well.

"I bet she is going to have a lot of stories to tell. I can't wait to hear all of it."

"I'm sure she would be expecting the same from you as well, milady."

"Well—I don't have much to say. I'm only interested in hearing what has been happening back home."

"Oh, do not sell yourself short. I bet she will be impressed with the improvements you've made to the house."

"It is no bother. She has never been one to tend to gardens. It may not seem like a lot to her."

"I trust that it might." Estelle replied, grabbing her mistress's hand. "As I said, do not sell yourself short."

A knock from the door interrupted their conversation. Estelle moved to open it. Anne appeared on the other side, a sheer giddiness similar to Juliet's on her face.

"She's here!" Anne announced. A chill ran down Juliet's spine, and for half a second, waves of doubts started to come in.

What if she was disappointed with her progress so far? What if she didn't truly care about the garden like she had said earlier? Her heart skipped a beat as the last thought crawled into her mind.

What if she brought terrible news from home?

"Well, are you coming or not?" Anne called impatiently, oblivious to why Juliet suddenly froze in her steps.

Juliet shook off all negative thoughts and took off. Her feet floated on the marbled floor as she skated down the stairs, past the confused maids and servants, and towards the doorway. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she reached for the doorknob and pulled the doors open. She could see the familiar carriage right across the cobblestones. She leaped in joy as she watched her slowly descend from the carriage, holding on to one of the footmen who had come with her.

Juliet left the entrance doors and proceeded to meet her, the smile on her face so bright it was hurting her cheek.

"Aunt Grace." She greeted, her voice high-pitched. "You're here."

"Juliet. My darling." Grace replied, instantly reaching for her niece's hands. "You look ravishing."

Juliet pulled her into a light hug and kissed her on both sides.

"You know, for a moment, I was thinking I was going to have to rain down some serious pain on everyone in this manor if I'd seen the slightest hint of suffering on your body."

"It is really good to see you." Juliet said. She had missed her Aunt's antics.

"You too, my dear." Grace replied and pulled her into another hug.

Juliet pulled away instantly and motioned for Anne to come closer. "This is my sister-in-law. Anne." She said, introducing her to Grace.

"It is an honour to have you in our home today, Lady Grace." Anne said, throwing in a slight curtsy into her greeting.

Grace reciprocated. "Likewise. You look really young. Are you married yet?"

"Aunt Grace!?" Juliet called, slight horror crashing into her voice.

"No, it is fine. I do not mind." Anne replied, reaching for Juliet's shoulder. "No. I am not married yet, I'm afraid."

"But I bet with a face like this, you have a long line of suitors."

"Oh, dear lord." Juliet whispered, feeling a wave of hot scarlet swim up her cheeks.

"You are absolutely correct, Lady Grace."

Grace reached for Anne's gloved hands. "Little bit of advice, my dear, take your time. It is better you choose a wise husband than one who would cease to respect you in the long run."

"Thank you for the advice, Lady Grace." Anne replied, grinning profusely. "Now, we have to actually get you inside. You've had a long day and I bet you must be starving."

"Well, seeing my beautiful niece look even more so has made me happier than I thought it would. But I am a bit peckish and could do with some food, yes."

"Well, come on. We hope you find our food to your satisfaction. It is obvious that Juliet has." Anne said, leading Grace across the way towards the entrance.

"It is really good to see you, Aunt Grace." Juliet repeated as they got closer to the doors. She knew her Aunt would have a lot to tell her, and she couldn't wait to listen to all of them. It was only a shame Weston wasn't available to see her. He had gone into town to meet with some Dukes and have some discussions with them regarding some political matters. It did not matter anyway. Today, she would relieve some part of her past life through her aunt. As she led her to the dining room, she couldn't help but wonder how much she would be pleased to hear.

***

Even with Grace behind her, Juliet could tell she was looking around the interiors of Estfield the moment they all walked in. Juliet scoffed. She was probably examining the quality of the walls, the floors, the painting. She wanted to know if this place was a step up from Willowbrook or a downgrade, a fact Juliet had determined herself on the first day here.

She wouldn't say anything to Grace, though. She would let her decide for herself.

"Come. The maids have been cooking all morning. They made lamb. I know how much you like that."

"Good to know Willowbrook has not made you forget certain qualities about your loved ones."

Juliet laughed. "Maybe if I spend a few more years in here, memories of Willowbrook shall vanish from my mind."

"That would speak to how well you're being cared for, my dear."

"Let's eat." Juliet said once they all got to the dining table. The maids pulled their chairs, and they settled comfortably into them.

"Your father sends his regards." Aunt Grace said. "He said he wishes you the very best in your marriage."

"Is that all he said?" Juliet asked, a curious frown resting on her face.

"That was not at all what he said." Aunt Grace replied. "But I would like you to just assume he did. Adam on the other hand, mumbled something about turning your room into his gentleman's lounge."

Juliet sighed. "Of course he did."

"You should know, the gossip carriage is beginning to die down. I heard some Lord was caught in a compromising position with a seventy-year-old woman in a tavern. That is all everyone is talking about now."

Juliet laughed. Her aunt's words did relieve her a little, but she wasn't convinced that stories about her couldn't start up again if somebody wanted them to.

"I don't hear bats screeching around the castle. Where is the matron?" Grace asked, grabbing a bib from the corner of the table.

Juliet felt a gasp escape her lips. "Aunt Grace!"

"I approve of the jest. Let her be." Anne interrupted, laughing heartily at Grace's joke.

"See?" Grace said, gesturing towards Anne. "The daughter found it funny."

Juliet shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Conversations like this were best reserved when she was alone with Grace. She had grown to like Anne because she had been a constant source of cheer even when overwhelming forces in the house would try to bring her down. She wasn't worried about her getting offended, but there were only so many jokes you could make about a person's mother in their presence before they could adversely react.

"So tell me, where is the husband? I assume he isn't home?" Grace asked, slowly chewing a piece of chicken.

"Yes. He is out." Juliet replied, grabbing her fork.

"Not drinking himself to death, I hope." Grace asked.

"No." Juliet replied, laughing. "He is in a meeting with some other members of the high society. It is apparently a very confidential one because he would not even tell me about it."

"So he tells you about things? Is that what I gather?"

Juliet shrugged. "The things he can."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Alright. I want to hear everything."

Juliet frowned in confusion. "About what?"

"Do not play games with me, young lady. I know when you are desperate to spill some words. Remember Farmer Harrison?"

Anne shook her head, trying to register Grace's words. "Who is Farmer Harrison?"

"Someone not worth mentioning." Juliet's voice had jumped an octave, and her cheeks reddened.

"Really? Something about your demeanour tells me that is not the case." Anne said.

"Very much not the case." Aunt Grace added, throwing a mischievous wink at Anne.

"Alright. I shall tell you." Juliet felt the words force themselves out of her mouth. She grabbed her cup of water and sipped from it. "Weston and I have grown to become great friends. At first, I was worried he would remain this aloof and extremely guarded throughout our marriage. I couldn't bear the thought of marrying someone I don't know."

"How long was he like that for?" Grace asked.

Juliet shook her head. "A really long time. It worried me a lot, Aunt Grace. But everything changed the day I started to work on the garden."

"They have a garden?" Grace asked.

"Well, they do now." Juliet replied.

Grace reached for her niece's hands and squeezed them tight, grateful that she had found something to occupy her time just like she did back home. "I must see it before I leave."

"I shall take you to it." Juliet replied, mirroring her aunt's grateful smile. She then went on to explain her injury and how he had taken her to the apothecary, worried she might bleed herself to death. She explained the rain and how it had strengthened the bond between them. She described their little talks in the garden. How he sits and talk to her while she works. She told her Aunt how sensitive and warm she had found Weston to be and how he took the utmost joy in little things life had to offer. She talked about how he had to, at first, act like a guarded man but was now reclaiming his boyish wonder.

"Well." Grace whispered, reclining further into her chair after Juliet had finished speaking. "That explains the glow."

Juliet's brow furrowed. "What glow?"

Aunt Grace scoffed. "The one you have on your face at the moment."

Juliet folded her arms in playful defense. "I do not know what you speak of."

"Juliet, not once did you stop smiling when you started to talk about him. If that doesn't say this man has captured your heart completely, I do not know what does." Aunt Grace said, dabbing her mouth with a towel.

"That is not true. Have we grown closer than before? Yes, but it is a bit presumptuous to think I am speaking like I am in love with him. This is a marriage of duty, remember?"

"Sometimes, my dear, when we are with the person we're meant to be with, the lines of duty can blur out rather quickly."

"He is only a worthy companion. Nothing more." Juliet said as if making a proclamation.

"I must agree with Aunt Grace on this one, Juliet." Anne added, dropping her spoon. "I have seen how you both walk together across the halls whenever you're going to the gardens. I see the way you look at him and the way he does, too."

Juliet's eyes shifted from Aunt Grace's to Anne's. Were they truly speaking the truth? Indeed, she, of all people, would know if she loved Weston, wouldn't she?

In all the moments they had spent together, she had found him to be a completely different person when vulnerable. He was full of joy, wonder, and life. He also matched her wit and sense of humor. He knew her heart. As the maids cleared the plates and the cups, she couldn't help but let the question linger in her head.

Was she falling in love with Weston Edgeworth?

***

Weston returned home later that evening and had listened to Juliet tell him all about her aunt when they were alone in their room. He had an uneventful day and didn't want to bore Juliet with it when she asked. He was more than happy, on the other hand, to hear about hers.

"You should have seen it, Weston. It was the most marvelous thing ever. She even asked me to show her the garden." Juliet said, her voice coated in palpable and contagious euphoria.

"I assume you did?" Weston asked, loosening his cravat and waistcoat. Juliet sat on the bed and talked, the excitement from the afternoon still lingering in her voice.

"Of course. She was happy to see it."

Weston smiled. He knew how much the garden meant to Juliet, and with the work she had done on it so far, he knew she was proud of it. She would talk about it to anyone who even showed the slightest interest.

"Is she married, your aunt? I assume she would come with her husband."

"Oh." Juliet said, the smile slightly fading from her face. "She isn't. Her husband died a few years back. She lost him to the fever."

"Oh. That must have been terrible." Weston whispered. He untucked his shirt, walked to the bed, and sat beside her. "I can't imagine what she must've gone through."

"You know, he died the same year my mother did, too, so the sadness was overwhelming for her. She lost her husband and her sister in the same period."

Weston watched Juliet's countenance. Usually, when matters regarding her mother came up, she would retreat into her mind a little and let the sadness take over her. He could feel her grow slightly quiet this time around at the mention of her mother but she didn't fully go into recluse like usual.

She must be slowly moving on.

"So she lives alone?" He asked, in a lazy tone to move on from the subject.

"Yes." Juliet replied. "She is living the dream of true freedom."

Weston scoffed. "The dream indeed."

At that moment, memories of a particular conversation she'd had earlier crept into her mind, and it caused her to remember one of the questions she'd meant to ask him. She remembered his exact words when she had broached the subject of running away from societal pressures.

Isn't that the dream?

"Have you ever thought of dropping everything? Leave everything behind and retire into some farmhouse outside London?"

Weston frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh—" Juliet trailed off, fearing he would clam up and refuse to say anything or, worse, refuse to talk to her throughout the night. "You have called it a dream twice now. I was just wondering if you ever thought about it."

Weston sighed. He might as well tell her about his fantasies before he got married to her.

"I did more than think about it. I acted on it."

"What are you talking about?"

Weston's eyes shifted to the door. It was locked. He lowered his voice nonetheless. "You cannot tell anyone about this. Promise me."

"I promise." Juliet's response was honest. Weston believed her. There was something about the way she said it that reassured him.

"I have bought a cottage along the Scottish border. Now, except Charles and me and, well, now you, no one else knows about this."

"Really? No one?"

"Not even Anne."

Juliet felt a satisfactory laugh creep onto her face. Her husband had trusted her enough to tell her about this. She was not only grateful for it, but she also felt obliged to back him up on his innermost thoughts.

"I agree that the sophistication and politics can be overbearing. Sometimes, I secretly yearn for a life where things are simple and quiet."

Weston smiled, feeling even more reassured. "The cottage is near a small river that runs down a valley. At night, you can hear the river run, the crickets chirp, and the wind blow gently. It is the most beautiful thing ever.

Juliet reached for Weston's hands and squeezed them gently. Weston reciprocated as well, and at that moment, all that didn't need to be said was effortlessly conveyed. It was them, alone in the room, alone in the world, fully with each other.

Weston felt like a weighty stone had been lifted off his chest. Knowing he could share these thoughts with Juliet made him adore her even more. Perhaps one day, if he could get her out of the manor without having his mother's piercing glare follow them, he would take her to the cottage and show her. He would show her what life could look like if he didn't have society breathing down his shoulders like a thirsty dog impatiently lapping at his patience and sanity.

Juliet, on the other hand, couldn't wait to see where her relationship with Weston goes. Since Grace had mentioned that what she felt for him might be more than friendship, she couldn't get the thought out of her mind. She knew, deep down within her, that the days that would follow would fully define her feelings towards Weston. She would know where she truly stood with him and vice versa. Whether it would come in the form of a sign from nature or an act of man itself, something would manifest and make her feelings concrete.

One way or the other, she would know if she was indeed in love with her husband or not.