Page 64 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
Julia danced with Devin a half a dozen times before they went up to their bedchamber. That must be the reason why she felt out of breath. It was not that she was nervous about spending another night in the same bed with him. With shaking hands, she removed her dress and stays and put on her warm nightgown. Julia dressed fast enough to see the back of Devin without his shirt on or his snug breeches, although he wore smalls. His legs were strong and muscular and Julia could have watched them longer, but unfortunately, he pulled his nightshirt over his shoulders and it covered past his knees.
‘Shall we go to bed?’
Unable to form words, Julia nodded. She slid into bed without even adding logs to the fire. Devin did not forget that it was December and stacked several pieces of wood onto the flames before joining her in bed. There was no candle in the room, but the light from the fire was enough to see the chiselled lines of his nose, chin and cheeks. It was almost as if he’d been carved into perfection.
Devin climbed into bed on the other side and caught her staring at him. He took her hand and held it in his much larger and warmer one. ‘Don’t worry. I have bolted the door. The thieves won’t enter our bedroom tonight.’
Julia brushed her thumb over the calluses on his fingers. Touching them made her skin tingle. His wrist bumped her chatelaine and then he pulled back his hand.
‘You don’t have to sleep with scissors on you. I would not touch you without your permission. I mean, I won’t touch you. Not at all.’
Julia was glad that it was dark, for she felt herself blushing as she picked up the sharp scissors on the end of the silver chatelaine. ‘I’m wearing my scissors for protection not from you but from the thieves. And because this was my mother’s chatelaine and I remember her wearing it nearly every day. I would rather Mr Rhys and Mr Pip steal my pearl necklace than this.’
Devin didn’t speak for a few moments and Julia wondered if he had either fallen asleep or if he’d misunderstood her. ‘Can you tell me about your chatelaine?’
She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to say. ‘Well, um, you pin it to the waistband of your gown and when you’re sewing you have all the needed instruments right at your fingertips. Chatelaine in French roughly meanslady of the castle.Not that my mother spoke French. She was the daughter of a factory owner and had no fancy airs.’ Julia held up the scissors that were on the first chain. ‘Obviously these are the scissors.’ Next she showed him the tweezers, thimble, magnifying glass, miniature knife, mirror and the little nut-shaped case that her mother said was her good luck charm.
‘Have you ever opened the good luck charm to see what is in it?’ Devin asked.
Julia was still holding the nut-shaped silver case between her fingers. She felt around its decorated silver casing to find a small latch that she’d never realised was part of a mechanism. Her mouth fell open. How could she have not noticed it before? Her curiosity got the better of her and she slipped her thumbnail underneath it and popped the nut lid open. Inside the silver vial was a folded piece of paper. She gasped in surprise as she pulled it out and recognised her mother’s careful handwriting on it.
‘It’s a letter from my mother addressed to me.’
The light from the flames was not enough for her to see the small penmanship, so she climbed out of bed and rushed to the fireplace. She had carried her mother’s chatelaine for eleven years and never once found the hidden message that had been waiting there for her. Julia had never thought to look for one. Nor could she recall her mother telling her about it. Biting her lower lip, she held the letter to the light.
My dearest Julia,
A woman should always be prepared for any adventure. That is why I always wore my chatelaine, so that I could protect and take care of myself. It is my hope that I will always be able to take care of you, my dear girl, but my cough worsens and my body grows weaker. I would have left you in the care of my sister and her husband, but the law does not recognise the wishes of a wife. Only the power of a husband and father. And I don’t think your father will let you go because you are precious beyond measure in more ways than you know. Your grandfather was a factory owner and he did not trust your father; he thought him a spendthrift baronet. So when we married, he added a clause to the contracts that your father could only use the yearly income from my dowry of fifty thousand pounds during my lifetime. And in the event of my death, the money would pass to my children—to you.
My dear daughter, I hope by the time that you are reading this that you are old enough to understand that your father only married me for my money. He was very handsome and held a title and my head was quite turned. It wasn’t long after our marriage that I realised how ugly he could be. But at least he gave me you—the love and joy of my life. Perhaps I should have told you, but I did not want to cause problems for you with your father. When you are one and twenty, take your inheritance and be happy. I will watch over you, even from heaven.
Love, Mama
Unbidden and unwanted, tears fell freely down Julia’s cheeks. How she missed her mother! Even the smell of her lavender soap and the sound of her ragged breathing: Mama had said that her lungs were full of cotton. Julia tried to sniff quietly, so Devin could fall asleep. She didn’t want him to see how vulnerable and upset she felt. Her mind was a whirlwind. She was no longer without her own funds. Nor was she dependent upon her father for money. She did not have to humble herself to him or be obedient to his dictates. She would not have to scrape and bow before the Mrs Heaps of the world either.
Julia was so intent upon her letter and her tears that she did not hear Devin leave the bed nor notice that he had, until he knelt by her side.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked, his hand outstretched to her.
She realised that he would not touch her without her permission. So she held out a trembling hand to him and he encased it in a firm grip. His thumb gently rubbed the top of her hand. It had been so long since she’d been touched by someone who cared about her. Not since the day after her cancelled wedding when her stepmother had hugged her goodbye and Amelia had cried upon her shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, Julia nodded. ‘I never expected to hear my mother’s voice again and when I read her words, it was as if she were here beside me. Guiding me as she once did. It was a most unexpected and wonderful Christmas Eve gift.’
‘I am glad. What I wouldn’t give to hear from my late father once again.’
The mention of fathers made Julia remember her mother’s letter. ‘May I ask you a question as a barrister?’
‘Of course.’
Julia wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the fire or from her own embarrassment, but she felt hot all over. ‘When a woman marries, doesn’t all of her property and fortune become her husband’s?’
‘By English law, yes,’ Devin said softly. ‘All a woman has or expects to have becomes virtually the property of the man she has accepted as husband, and no gift or deed executed by her is held to be valid.’
Her eyes returned to her mother’s letter, wrinkled with numerous little folds. ‘Then, what my mother writes cannot be true. She and my grandfather could not have not have left his fortune to me.’
Devin released her hand and she missed his touch immediately. ‘May I?’
Julia felt reluctant to let her mother’s letter go so soon after finding it, but she trusted Devin completely.
