Page 29 of A Christmas Miracle for the Frosty Marquess
But Julian didn’t believe that was true. In fact, he was sure that he would regret it, just as he regretted agreeing to making the decorations the day before. He did his best to pretend to be interested in the meal in front of him while his sister continued talking excitedly. But he was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice when Thomas entered the room.
It felt like ages before Elizabeth excused herself to prepare to travel to the orphanage. After breakfast, Thomas approached Julian, his face etched with lines of concern.
“You seem deeply troubled, Cousin,” he said, patting Julian gently on the back. “Is everything alright?”
Julian hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should share the extent of his emotional turmoil. Thomas had always been a trusted ally in both happiness and sorrow. If anyone would understand, it would be him.
“I find myself struggling, Thomas,” Julian said with a sigh. “Elizabeth has had me very actively involved in all her holiday excitement. And now, she wishes for me to go with her to the orphanage. All of it has reignited old memories and traditions that were sacred to my mother and me. Yet their revival brings me more pain than joy.”
A sympathetic light filled Thomas’s eyes.
“Memories can be both our greatest treasures and our most painful burdens,” he said, sounding eerily like Fernsby. “Your mother was a wonderful woman, Julian. She filled the lives of everyone around her with light and love. But don’t you think she would have wanted you to find happiness in those very traditions, rather than feel confined by them?”
Julian looked away, his eyes stinging.
“I’m sure you are right,” he said. “Deep down, I understand this heavy sadness does not serve me well. But how does one go about releasing a grip that is as much a part of you as your own flesh and blood?”
Thomas paused, considering his words carefully before speaking.
“Grief is a long journey, and one that is painfully unique to each individual,” he said. “I miss my parents, and I have since their passing. But with time, I suppose I was able to adjust and continue to move forward. You may never fully ‘release the grip,’ as you put it. But what if, instead, you transformed it? What if you turned it into something that not only honours your mother’s memory but also adds happiness to your life and the lives of others?”
Julian took a deep breath, Thomas’s words sinking in.
“You make it sound so simple,” he said softly.
Thomas placed a reassuring hand on Julian’s shoulder.
“It may not be simple, but it is possible, Cousin,” he said. “All journeys begin with a single step, Julian. Today could be yours.”
A flicker of something ignited within Julian. He still felt trapped by his past, but he knew that Thomas had good points. He couldn’t place all his faith in what his cousin said. But what if there was a chance for him to finally free himself from the pain and emptiness that losing his mother had left within him?
Chapter Thirteen
As the early morning sun shone on the mansion, a flurry of activity took place outside the majestic facade of her family’s estate. Several servants bustled about, loading bags and packages onto a dogcart. Standing in the doorway, Clara watched the scene unfold, but her mind was not there. The images of the previous day consumed her thoughts. She saw herself with Elizabeth, helping her to adorn the great hall of the manor with garlands and fresh blooms, with the laughter of her children serving as the perfect musical harmony for such a festive activity.
Yet, there was another face that kept reemerging at the forefront of her mind. Julian. His demeanor, which up to that point had always been so controlled, had given her the impression of aloofness, even coldness, especially since his mother died. But yesterday, Julian had a vulnerability, a softness that he tried so desperately to hide, which was something she hadn’t expected. He hadn’t spoken much to her. But he had been considerate enough to warn her about the sharpness of the holly. And he had seemed to listen to her stories about holidays past with amusement and interest.
She had also seen a certain sad dreaminess to his eyes on one occasion. She made no mention of it, as she suspected that it had everything to do with his mother. She hadn’t thought of it until then, but she seemed to recall that his mother had died during Christmastide those years ago. She bit her lip, thinking about the small bit of softness she had recently witnessed within Julian.
Could it be possible, she wondered,that beneath that icy exterior lay a heart just waiting for understanding? Could she, with time and patience, find a way to breach the fortress he’d built around himself?
Lost in these ruminations, she was jolted back to the present by a chorus of laughter. Turning her head, she saw Amelia and William bounding down the stairs, their faces alight with the excitement of the day’s adventure. Their energy, which seemed to be no less than when they were young children, was contagious, their laughter a delightful melody that lifted Clara’s spirits.
Following a few steps behind them was their mother, who smiled indulgently at her younger children.
“Amelia, William, do try to behave like adults,” she gently chided.
Amelia, ever the free spirit, twirled towards Clara, her skirt flaring.
“Clara are you as excited as we are?” she asked.
Clara smiled, pushing down her inner turmoil to link her arm through that of her younger sister.
“I certainly am,” she said, trying to summon the sincerity the words deserved.
William joined his sisters, gesturing to the dog cart, which was now ready and waiting for them.
“Shall we, then?” he asked with an exaggerated, well-practiced bow.
