CHAPTER 1
“You must be so glad that soon you can wear something other than black and lavender,” Rosy Lymington, the Duchess of Cambridge, said as she and Judith walked back toward the sprawling house.
Judith tugged on the sleeve of her lavender-colored gown and sighed deeply. “I suppose I am,” she said with a shrug. “But the truth is, a part of me feels strange because the dark colors have been like a cloak for me, a shield. When I go outside, people see I am in mourning and leave me in peace. I do not get invited to balls and functions, and nobody bothers to tell me that I must marry because I am on the shelf.”
“You are not on the shelf,” Rosy stated sharply.
Judith shook her head. “I am four and twenty, Rosy. Do not forget that I am older than you. I am unmarried. We must face reality—I am on the shelf. A spinster. An old, old maid.”
Rosy gave her a playful pat on the arm. “Stop it. You make yourself sound as if you were a grandmother.”
Judith sighed and took her friend’s arm. “You must admit, it is not easy to defy Society’s demands and expectations. You must feel it. You have been married for almost three years, and you haven’t a child yet.”
Rosy cringed. “It is true, but it is by choice. And…” She bit her lip and looked at Judith. “You not being married is somewhat by choice. You could have been married by now, but you chose not to. I thought it was so brave and inspiring at the time. Do you not think so anymore? Do you regret it?”
Judith pondered this for a moment. It was true. She had been all but betrothed three years ago to a gentleman from Scotland. She’d spent a lot of time with him, and everyone had expected them to be married—as had she. However, she’d had a change of heart when those around her, particularly Rosy, Joanna, and to a lesser degree their elder sister Sally, had chosen husbands they loved and embraced lives that made them truly happy.
She’d decided to end her courtship then, seeking instead true love—alas, love had eluded her up until now. She hadn’t been bothered by it at first, as she’d been willing to wait. However, now that she had reached an age that made the prospects of marriage improbably small, she wondered sometimes if it had been better to marry when she could have.
Alas, it was too late now, and there was no point in pondering these issues. She wasn’t married and perhaps would never be.
“It cannot be helped now,” she said as they approached the house. “I did what I did. I am sad that love has not found me, but I must live my life as best I can. Father never pressured me. Besides, it has been so long since I have been to a ball, I do not think I’d remember how to dance or charm anyone.”
She meant it in jest, but there was a kernel of truth to it. The longer she’d been without a courtship, the harder she’d found it to be charming or even graceful. Once upon a time, she’d been among the most refined ladies in high society, but now she often felt out of place. Her mind was occupied with other things—things that seemed more important than etiquette and accomplishments.
Since her father’s death, she’d had to care for her younger brother, who’d been distraught by their father’s passing. She’d been a companion to Matilda, who had spiraled into deep melancholy with the sudden loss of her husband. And she’d had to assist Oliver as he found his way into a role he’d never wanted.
Balls and the opera had been the furthest things from her mind—and in a way, she hoped they would remain this way, as she had no desire to re-join Society.
“Rosy, I have half a mind to ask you to take me with you when you go visit Sally in Portugal next,” she said.
Rosy’s older sister spent most of the year with her husband, Leonard Harding, the Duke of Chester, and children on the Continent to tend to her Leonard’s vineyards.
“You ought to! We are going in the spring,” Rosy offered enthusiastically.
But their conversation was interrupted when a window flew open on the upper floor and her brother’s face appeared.
“Judy! Come to my study,” he shouted and disappeared again.
Judith groaned and shook her head. “I suppose I have been summoned. I beg your pardon, Rosy,” she said, but her friend waved a hand.
“Do not fret, I understand. Your brother ought to be grateful he has you to help him with the estate and everything.” Rosy lowered her voice a little. “How is he doing, by the way? I know you said he never had an interest in the estate.”
“He didn’t, and he doesn’t. He does what must be done but leaves most things up to the steward. It is a good thing the estate was in good condition, thanks to my father. Oliver needs to do nothing but show his face at the House of Lords when necessary. Everything else runs almost by itself,” Judith drawled, but then, the window opened again.
“Judith!” her brother barked, louder this time.
“Yes, I am coming,” she bellowed back and rolled her eyes. “I must go. Tell Joanna I will see her for tea tomorrow.”
She hugged her dear friend, and then they parted ways. As soon as Rosy’s carriage disappeared around the corner, she made her way back into the house.
It was winter now, and the great manor always seemed cold, no matter how many fires were lit. She pulled her shawl tighter around herself and climbed up the steps to what had once been her father’s study.
“Oliver?” she called as she entered.
Her brother looked up from his desk, his eyes bleary, a glass of whiskey on the desk beside him. She glanced at the clock. It was two in the afternoon. She didn’t think her brother ought to be drinking so early, but he wasn’t the type who’d take advice from anyone, least of all his younger sister.
Judith closed the door behind her and looked at Oliver, who was now standing up, straightening his waistcoat. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the strain in his expression.
