Judith shook her head. She did not want her stepmother to know what they had been talking about because she had a habit of inserting herself into things that did not concern her. Alas, it was too late. Her stepmother took Joanna’s comment as an invitation to join them and sat in the armchair by the door.
“Oh, I wish you would find a husband, Judith. Your father hoped for it also, but he used to tell me not to press the matter, that you’d know when the time was right.”
Judith blinked, wondering why—if this was the case—her father had written to Oliver, asking him to find her a husband as soon as possible.
“Well, time might be of the essan?—”
“Essential, that is true. Timing is essential,” Judith interjected, cutting Rosy off.
She didn’t want Matilda to know the truth. There was no reason for her to know what Oliver had planned. In fact, she preferred that Matilda did not know anything about her personal affairs. She liked her stepmother, but they weren’t friends, and she wasn’t a mother figure to her. More like an aunt, a distant one. The sort who’d come to live in one’s house after losing her husband.
Was that unkind? No, Judith didn’t think so. It was life, that was all.
“If you ever want me to help you find a matchmaker, you let me know,” Matilda offered, a smile gracing her lips.
She’d switched from wearing all black to navy now, and Judith knew that it would be some time before her stepmother wore anything with color, for her mourning was deep.
“Is that how you met the late Lord Worcester?” Rosy asked.
“No, not at all,” Matilda answered, and Judith wished Rosy had not encouraged her to stay longer. “I met him at Almack’s, in fact. I met my first husband through a matchmaker, but it was not meant to last, as he decided he’d rather keep company with another lady.” She sighed and shook her head. “But that is another tale. You see, I never thought I would marry again after all of that, but there I was, aged four-and-thirty, at Almack’s, when I saw your father. And he saw me.”
The smile on her lips made Judith forget that she’d been vexed just a second prior. Her father hardly ever spoke about Matilda when he first met her because Judith had struggled with his romantic life, but now she appreciated hearing about this. It was almost as if he was back among them, if only fleetingly.
“Was it love at first sight?” Rosy asked.
Matilda’s cheeks colored. “I think so. It was for me, anyhow. We danced the quadrille together and then talked for an hour, and then danced the Boulanger. It was magical. I never thought I would experience anything like it in all my life,” she sighed, and her eyes filled with fresh tears.
Judith swiftly withdrew her handkerchief and handed it to her stepmother, the rush of happiness replaced by sadness for their mutual loss.
“Thank you dear,” Matilda croaked as she dabbed at her eyes. “I did not mean to dampen the mood.”
“No, not at all,” Joanna reassured her. “I adore hearing stories such as this one. It shows how important it is to marry for love.” She looked at Judith. “True love is worth waiting for.”
“Indeed, it is,” Matilda agreed. “But I do encourage searching for it as well, rather than waiting for it to find you.”
She glanced at Judith, who looked away, uncertain what her stepmother was implying, if anything. Surely Matilda did not mean to imply Judith hadn’t been looking for love. Or was she?
Judith had never considered that her stepmother held any opinion over her unwed status. She sank lower into her seat, her mind suddenly swirling with thoughts of just what Society thought of her. Both her stepmother’s and Oliver’s words echoed in her mind, filling her with doubt, but it was Aaron’s voice that rang loudest with his promise to help her.
Would he? Could he? And more importantly, did she really want him to?
CHAPTER 6
Judith sat in her chamber, sipping her tea and gazing out the window as the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. The gentle breeze rustled the curtains, and she found solace in the tranquil scene outside. As she lost herself in the mesmerizing dance of the leaves, a soft knock on the door drew her attention.
“Come in,” she called out, setting down her teacup.
Marianne, her loyal maid, entered the room with a concerned look on her face. “My Lady, there is a caller,” she announced, her voice filled with uncertainty.
“A caller?” Judith furrowed her brow, puzzled by the unexpected visit. “At this late hour? Who could it be?”
Marianne shrugged. “I’m not sure, My Lady. The butler sent me to tell you. Shall I have them sent away?”
Judith shook her head, her curiosity piqued. “No, no, Marianne. I shall see who it is. Are they downstairs?”
“Yes, My Lady, in the parlor,” Marianne replied before departing.
Judith cast one last glance out the window, the fading light casting a warm glow on her features.
