Page 18 of Lady of Fortune

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Julia was trying to drink a glass of champagne in order to keep her hands busy, but what she had already swallowed was making her even sleepier, and now she struggled to keep the glass from tipping over every time her hands wobbled.

“Whatever is the matter?” her mother whispered in her ear, and Julia shrugged as she turned to look at her. The Countess of St. Albans was polished as always, and every time Julia looked at her mother, it was like looking into a vision of herself twenty years in the future.

“I’m just tired,” she replied in a low voice. “It must be the excitement of the week. Or perhaps I am coming down with something.”

“I do hope not,” her mother said, and at the concerned expression on her mother’s face, guilt coursed through Julia anew. She was very lucky to have parents who cared for her well-being more so than simply her prospects, and now she felt she was taking advantage of them. Just for the week, she promised herself. Then this would all be over and she would go back to being the dutiful daughter. Well, dutiful besides the fact that she remained single despite having been out for three seasons and at two-and-twenty, having never truly entertained a suitor.

Julia was about to excuse herself to find another room in which to sequester herself away and have a quick nap when a familiar figure walked into the room.

“Elizabeth?” Julia stood then, suddenly much more awake as her friend spotted her, striding toward her while the other women looked up at the new presence in the room.

Julia stretched out her arms, and when Elizabeth reached her, she took her hands in hers.

“Julia!” she exclaimed, her eyes searching her face. “It’s wonderful to see you.” Elizabeth lowered her voice. “Has something happened? You look… well, you look almost as though you are glowing, though in an… exhausted way, like a new mother, as crazy as that sounds.”

“Oh,” Julia said, her words as hushed as Elizabeth’s own. “So much has happened. And I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are here. If anyone can help me, it is you.”

“Allow me to make my greetings, and then perhaps we can have a turn about the room,” said Elizabeth, and Julia nodded gratefully as she once again sat next to her mother for a spell.

Finally Elizabeth returned, and they walked beyond the pillars separating the drawing room into two equal parts as they remained on the outskirts, far enough away that straining ears wouldn’t hear their conversation.

Julia laced her arm through her friend’s as she proceeded to tell her most of the story of all that happened. It was most interesting to watch the expressions play over Elizabeth’s face. Normally Elizabeth was the most reserved, calm, and practical of all of them. Tonight, however, it seemed Julia had completely shocked her.

“So to summarize,” Elizabeth finally said, her eyes wide, “You made a last-minute, hasty decision to ride Orianna yourself — as a jockey — dressed as a man. You did quite well and now both your father and the Duke of Clarence are interested in hiring you for further races and are looking forward to meeting with you as James Smith. You have decided that you will race once more, in the Two Thousand Guineas, no less, and in order to do so you are waking up every morning with the dawn to train with another jockey, who you know from when you were a young girl. Have I missed anything?”

Somehow when Elizabeth laid it all out like that in a list it was much more overwhelming, and yet also simplified things.

“I think you have it all,” Julia said with a nod.

“You said you need my help. With what?”

“With how to get through this week without being found out,” Julia said, hearing desperation enter her voice. “I cannot tell you the guilt I feel for lying to my parents. And yet if they were to ever find out, they would not only be devastated but perpetually frightened that my actions would be discovered by society and I would be utterly ruined. Then there is the proposed meeting between me and the Duke and my father. I might be able to fool the Duke — though he seems a perceptive man — but my father? Never. He would know it was me in an instant. Then during the race, how am I to explain my absence? My final problem is that from the early morning training I can hardly keep my eyes open during the evening festivities, and there is something scheduled every single night, as you very well know.”

Julia took a deep breath as she finished uttering all her problems, and she looked up at Elizabeth, who towered above her by a head or so. Elizabeth was tall and slim, her auburn hair always pulled back immaculately and her clothing of the latest style. Her family had money — much of it, for Elizabeth’s grandfather was the senior partner of one of the largest banks in all of England. And yet Elizabeth never held that over anyone. At times she had a bit of a prickly exterior, but once you came to know her, she was the most loyal of friends and would do anything for those to whom she was close.

But it was her sense of calm, the rational, practical way she looked at life and every situation that arose, that Julia had come to rely on. Elizabeth was a woman you could trust, upon whom one could depend, and there was no one else she would rather have with her at the moment.

“Well,” Elizabeth said, tilting her head to the side as she thought of solutions. “As for your tiredness, I would suggest taking a nap during the day, though I realize how difficult the timing can be. You could also feign illness in order to excuse yourself from some events of which you do not wish to partake. Your illness could also keep you from watching the race, I suppose, although that would be another lie. Perhaps you could watch from another area, or decide you must speak with the jockey. The most difficult will be the meeting with your father. The only way to solve it, I think, is to have someone else take your place.”

“But who?” Julia asked, perplexed.

“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth shrugged. “A groom? Perhaps your friend could help you with that — the jockey you are training with. I’m sure he has many acquaintances who could step in. If he hadn’t worked for your father in the past, I would suggest that he do it himself, but clearly that wouldn’t work.”

“No,” Julia shook her head morosely. “It would not.”

“Well, try to put off the meeting if you can, but be sure to have all in place in case you need to set up something hastily.”

Julia nodded.

“And as for the guilt you feel…” Julia looked at Elizabeth expectantly as she spoke. “I do not suppose that can be helped. You must either tell your parents the truth and live with the consequences and their disappointment, or keep the secret and learn to live with that instead.”

“They will be more than disappointed,” Julia responded. “They will feel at fault somehow, I know they will. They will worry. They will be continually paranoid that I should be found out. They —”

“Then perhapsnottelling them is the best solution for all of you, as well as the kindest route. I know you do not like to lie, Julia, and I myself am a particular advocate for honesty, but there is no going back now.”

“You’re right,” Julia said softly, and Elizabeth patted her hand.

“Now, what about the feelings you hold for this jockey?”