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rainbowfic2021-03-21 09:43 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2021-03-21 09:43 pm
Snow White #15 [Divide & Rule]
Name: Just Cause and Impediment
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Snow White #15 (happily ever after)
Supplies and Styles: Eraser + Portrait
Word Count: 5162
Rating: PG
Warnings:
Notes: 1935, Same Age AU cntd from Under the Apple Tree and Out On A Limb. Edward Iveson/Julia Graves, Caroline Aldridge, Daisy Long.
Summary: Edward’s getting married. Julia feels she really must object…
***
It was an unusually fine day in March. Sun filtered through the stained glass into the tiny old church, casting splinters of colour over the congregation. It was the first wedding this parish had had in years and someone had decorated everything in sight with flowers and greenery. Julia, walking back inside, failed to appreciate the perfect setting, consumed by an increasingly urgent dilemma.
It wasn’t the first time Caroline had put her in an awkward position. Julia had met her and Edward on various occasions when they were in London, and Caroline had confided in Julia her feelings for Edward, or lack of them. Julia bit her tongue and kept Caroline’s worries to herself. Edward and Caroline had to sort out their own problems. Julia was far too biased to interfere. Not that she’d sat around moping after Ned Iveson, but nobody else ever seemed to interest her, and somehow Ned was always wandering in and out of her life when she was trying to forget him.
She’d thought it was fine now until last night when Caroline had poured out yet more worries to Julia, making her promise not to tell. But how could she ignore that the night before the wedding? Ned was also a friend of hers; a much older and dearer one than Caroline. She’d tried to tell him that he should talk to Caroline without breaking her promise and she’d hoped that would have worked, but here they were: everyone in the church and Caroline late.
As the wait went on, Julia stepped out into the churchyard in time to catch Diana Foyle, Caroline’s Maid of Honour, explaining Caroline’s absence to Edward – mere nothings about Caroline not feeling very well. She caught hold of Diana’s arm.
“Was she crying again?”
Diana turned, and her face relaxed in relief. “I’m afraid so. She swears there’s nothing wrong, that it’s not Edward. You know how she is – I expect it’s only nerves.”
She darted away, green silk skirt flying, leaving a handful of petals in her wake.
Julia marched back inside and half way down the aisle she came to a decision. Edward didn’t know the truth and Caroline was desperately unhappy. If she wasn’t making her escape out of the bedroom window, then when she arrived, someone had to do something to save them both, and who else would?
It turned out that stopping a wedding in real life was quite different to when it happened on the stage. The vicar seemed to take an age to even get to that point, and Julia’s legs nearly failed her when it came to standing up in front of so many friends and family – her parents were going to be shocked and Edward would finally truly hate her – and she got to her feet only just in time. She waved a hand as if back in the classroom and said, “I do! Object, I mean,” much too loudly in her fear that she wouldn’t be heard.
An awful pause ensued as every turned to look at Julia, standing in the aisle. She was vaguely aware of their attention, but her gaze was fixed on Edward who stared back, his face blank with shock and unreadable, but she turned cold. She’d done the wrong thing and Edward would hate her. Everyone was going to hate her.
Suddenly everyone was moving and talking: the Reverend Giles Tadworth trying to ask her to accompany the wedding couple to the vestry while the congregation muttered and Mr Aldridge spluttered and turned red. Then he turned on his heel and bore down on Julia so fiercely that she shrank back.
“Vicar, ignore her. It’s a lie – spite! Who is this girl in any case?”
Julia didn’t think she’d better remind him that they’d met yesterday at the supper after the wedding rehearsal. She took another step away.
“A friend,” said Edward, causing Mr Aldridge to swing around, and Julia was grateful. The mood in the church was definitely hostile and she wasn’t sure anyone would have intervened in time if Mr Aldridge had hit her. Edward’s mouth twisted around the words. “The ever-objectionable Miss Graves.”
The Vicar cleared his throat and then led Caroline, Edward, and Julia out through the narrow door into the equally narrow corridor that led to the small vestry.
“I take it you have a reason?” said the Vicar, once he’d steered the three of them inside. “Miss Graves?”
Julia swallowed. What if Caroline’s confession really hadn’t meant much? What if she’d got everything wildly wrong? Then she caught sight of Caroline, who had sat down on the nearest wooden chair, her hand pressed to her face. The train of her dress curled in a silken white pool at her feet. She wasn’t crying yet, but she was pale and quivery enough that it couldn’t be long before she was.
“Yes,” Julia said. “It’s not really my secret to tell, that’s the trouble.” She crouched in front of Caroline. “Caroline. You have to tell Ned the truth now.”
Caroline lowered her head, and her voice trembled when she spoke. “I told you it would be all right!”
“Then why have you been crying all morning?” said Julia, reaching for her hand. “You don’t want to do this. Your father’s not here – he can’t make you.” She glanced at the Vicar, trying very hard not to look at Edward’s face. She couldn’t bear to see either hate or heartbreak there. “Caroline, darling. You have to – or give me permission, or they’ll all think I’m mad or wicked.”
Caroline shook her head. “I mustn’t – oh, please, can we go back out there and have it over and done with?”
“I’m afraid,” said the Vicar, “that I am legally forbidden to do so at this point. That is not an option. Perhaps you would prefer to explain in private – to me, or to Mr Iveson?”
Relief crossed Caroline’s face, and she nodded and held out a hand to Edward. The vicar took Julia’s arm and ushered her out into the narrow corridor, Mr Tadworth pulling the door to after him.
“I’m sorry,” said Julia, after a few moments. “I didn’t think it was right.”
Mr Tadworth only gave a small nod, and Julia was left to wonder what Edward would think. He was in love with Caroline. Perhaps he’d want to marry her anyway if she was willing, even once he understood she didn’t love him, she loved Jack Sheldon. Edward was the sort of person who cared about promises and duty. Maybe he’d think he was obliged. Maybe Caroline was right and he would have been better off not knowing. Julia’s chest tightened. She wished she’d held her tongue like a reasonable person. It wasn’t as if there was a genuine objection – neither of them was a bigamist, or a criminal, or anything like that.
Edward re-emerged and directed a silent appeal towards the vicar. Julia had to admit that she was horrid, because the sight instantly raised her spirits. He wouldn’t look like that if Caroline had smoothed things over.
Mr Tadworth disappeared back inside the vestry to do his best with poor Caroline, leaving Edward and Julia alone in the corridor.
“Would you,” said Edward, nearly as stiff as the collar of his best shirt, “be so good as to fetch Diana?”
Julia fought inappropriate laughter. “Oh, dear. Is she crying again?”
“Good God,” said Edward, rounding on her, “do you think this is a joke? Why can’t you stop and think before you do things? I suppose we must all be relieved that you refrained from leaping from the gallery or climbing up the spire!”
He had a right to be angry. Julia bit her tongue and refused to be drawn. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how dreadful it would be. I couldn’t just sit there and not do something.”
“It would have been better than this!”
Julia shifted backwards along the wall. Edward had been annoyed with her far too often in the past, but not like this. “I truly am sorry.”
“I was right years ago,” he said, and sagged back against a notice board full of tattered and fluttering typewritten notes and rules about the parish council and mother’s groups and prayer meetings. “You’re the worst girl I’ve ever met.”
“Obnoxious,” said Julia. “You said I was obnoxious. I remember.”
“So you are. You’ve just ruined my wedding!”
Julia folded her arms. “Some wedding. With the bride crying the whole time because she wanted to marry someone else!”
“Yes, quite,” said Edward, his anger abruptly withdrawn and buried under ice. “Please. Fetch Diana. Caroline needs someone and I don’t think she’ll want her parents.”
Julia hugged her arms in against herself. There was a chilly draught in the corridor. “I don’t mean to be difficult, but I don’t think either of us had better go out there again until the vicar comes back.”
Edward stared at her blankly, before his expression shifted as understanding dawned. “I suppose not. You’d better ask him to let you out the vestry door. Mr Aldridge was ready to kill you – and if anyone’s going to do that, Julia, it’ll be me.”
“Ned,” she said, unable to help the hurt bleeding into her voice.
He shook his head. “I know, I know – you meant well, but – good God, Julia! I could murder you!”
“Mind your language in church,” she said, unable to help herself. “I’m not sure you should make death threats here, either. The vicar might come back out and hear you.”
Edward glared, but whatever he was going to say was lost as Mr Tadworth chose to join them, on his cue.
“Well,” said the vicar. “I shall go and explain. Do you want to come with me, Iveson? It would probably be best.”
Edward looked at Julia for moment before turning back to Mr Tadworth. “Better let Julia escape first, and then – well, I’ve got to face them all sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”
Julia’s smart new shoes were pinching her feet, and not very suitable to cross-country walks, but she resisted the temptation to take them off. She’d didn’t fancy risking cowpats and thistles in bare feet.
It wasn’t far to the Longs’ village across the fields, so she persevered until she got to the Ted and Anne Long’s farmhouse. Julia had stayed there on the previous night along with her parents, but she hesitated over going back inside. Would the Longs want her there? And even if they did, her parents would be furious, especially Father. She’d rather face them later when they’d calmed down. She carried on down the lane to Aunt Daisy’s house instead. She could keep out of the way there until everybody had gone home or calmed down.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”
Julia glanced up from her borrowed book, and then rose sharply, like a guilty school girl. “Aunt Daisy! Miss Long, I should say. I’m sorry. Is anyone looking for me?”
“Not as such. But someone said they’d seen you come this way, so I thought I’d find out before your parents grew too worried. Would you like a sandwich?”
Julia sighed and sank back down onto the couch. “I don’t deserve sandwiches.”
“I was asking if you’d like one, not if you were worthy of it,” said Aunt Daisy and passed them over. “Most people who could went home, so there’s plenty in need of eating. I don’t see why you shouldn’t do your part.”
Julia took the plate, only realising now how hungry she was. She bit into a ham sandwich. “I thought it’d be better if I kept out of the way.”
“Very wise,” said Aunt Daisy, and sat down, setting to work on her sandwiches, her plate balanced precariously on her knee.
“Aren’t you angry?”
Aunt Daisy regarded her curiously. “With you? No, not very much. I think you could have said before the ceremony rather than during, but I suspect Ned might live to be grateful.”
“I doubt that.”
“One day. Not now,” said Aunt Daisy. “I’m afraid he’s unlikely to feel very fond of you, though.”
Julia studied her remaining sandwiches and found she’d lost her appetite. Nobody enjoyed public humiliation. Edward would never want to see her again. “Is it really all right if I stay here?”
“Of course,” said Aunt Daisy. “I had all the rooms made up, but most people on our side are getting the afternoon train back. Not the Scottish Ivesons, of course, but they’re staying in a hotel anyway. I have to go back – I’ll make sure someone brings your case over later.”
Julia carried on reading. It was cool and quiet in Aunt Daisy’s house and she wrapped a plaid blanket around her summery wedding frock. She hadn’t slept well last night, with Caroline’s confession on her mind, and it turned out disrupting weddings was unexpectedly draining. Her book fell onto her lap and she drifted into a doze, not waking until someone else arrived and called her name.
She thought she was dreaming as she pulled herself up. It seemed to be Edward standing over her, and she was miserably sure that couldn’t be true.
“I heard a rumour you were here,” said Edward, who did seem to be real, even after she’d blinked several times to be sure.
Julia swung her legs round, swathed in the woollen blanket. “Ned?”
“I woke you, didn’t I?” he said, and placed a plate with two slices of cake on it and a bottle of champagne on the nearby low table.
Julia was beginning to think she should try pinching herself. “Shouldn’t you hate me?”
“I probably will soon,” said Edward, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Right now, though, you are the only person in this entire village I don’t have to explain anything to, and I thought I’d bring you some cake. The least you can do after all this is help us dispose of the damned thing.”
Julia relaxed and risked a small smile. “Aunt Daisy said much the same about the sandwiches earlier.”
“Sandwiches are nothing to the wretched cake,” said Edward. “Please.” He waved a hand towards the plate. Then he frowned at the table and got up, disappearing elsewhere in the house while Julia decided not to look gift slices of cake in the face and picked up the plate. She started picking out raisins and sultanas and pieces of cherry and almond.
Edward returned with two glasses, and set about pouring them a glass of champagne each.
“Are you drunk?”
He raised his head before passing her a glass. “No. I wish I was, but it was bad enough having to explain over and over to everyone sober.”
“I am most awfully sorry,” said Julia. “Truly. Is – is Caroline all right?”
Edward sank back into the sofa with a small groan. “Caroline is fine. She escaped about three hours ago. Sergeant Sheldon turned up and whisked her away. I think his sister was at the church and got hold of him. Which, frankly, was a relief, because otherwise her father would never have stopped trying to rearrange the ceremony.”
“Wouldn’t you have preferred that?” asked Julia, after a cautious pause. She picked out candied peel and ate it.
Weariness fell over his face. “No,” he said shortly, and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t seem to feel anything just now, not even about Caroline.”
“Never mind,” said Julia. “I expect that’s mainly shock and you’ll feel dreadful in the morning.”
Edward’s mouth twitched. “Very comforting.”
She broke off a segment of marzipan and hard royal icing. “Have my parents gone yet?”
“Oh, yes,” said Edward. “Your father looked pretty grim all through lunch. I expect that’s why I don’t hate you right now. Everyone else does. Well, except for all the people who hate me instead. I think Caroline’s whole family are convinced I must be some kind of black-hearted villain. Or we both are.”
Julia grimaced.
“It’s been an appalling day,” he said, and took another sip of champagne before briefly closing his eyes.
Julia looked sidelong at him, less than an arm’s length away from her across the sofa. “I’m sure this is all wrong. You shouldn’t be here with me.”
“Don’t worry,” said Edward. “Tomorrow, as you said, I’m sure I’ll feel everything I ought. You’ve made me alternately a laughing stock and a villain, and I’ve had to try and tell at least a hundred people what was going on, when you and Caroline seem to be the only ones who actually know. Damn you both.”
Julia raised her glass. “Thank you.”
“You always do this,” he said. “Something terrible and stupidly heroic and I’m not sure you shouldn’t be shut away somewhere for your own safety – and maybe everyone else’s.” He tilted his head, and his eyes darkened. “Why, Julia? Do you hate me that much?”
Julia put down the champagne. Her better mood was only illusion; it disappeared, like bubbles in the glass falling flat. She had to swallow hard in order to get any words out. “I could never hate you.”
It wasn’t fair that Edward, who had managed to misread her for so long and be so obtuse about so many other things, understood her implication immediately. His face softened, and then he leant forwards, resting his hand on the blanket between them as he kissed her cheek.
Julia closed her eyes, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She shouldn’t feel anything, hope anything, especially not today, but that didn’t stop her having to curl her fingers into fists so as not to catch hold of him, to try and hold her breath till he moved away. She could feel his warmth, smell the champagne and the faint, lingering mustiness of the old church and village hall that hung about his wedding clothes.
Edward didn’t pull back. He slipped his hand into hers; the touch of his fingers electric against her skin, and then he bent in to kiss her again, this time on the mouth. At that, Julia surrendered, grasping the lapel of his best jacket, crushing the battered carnation that he hadn’t yet unpinned. Petals fell onto the red blanket, as she kissed him back fiercely, the way she’d wanted to for ages. Edward couldn’t really be himself – she ought not – but he tugged her in so closely and kissed her so hard that all she said in any sort of protest was, “Ned,” and then ran her fingers through his disordered hair, dazed and entranced by this impossible outcome.
A few more moments, and Julia managed to press her hand against his shirt and gather enough breath to say, “We shouldn’t.”
“No,” Edward agreed, pulling back, if not very far. His eyes searched her face, and Julia had to bite her lip to keep tears from welling up. He couldn’t possibly mean any of this. He’d been going to marry Caroline this morning. He must be drunk, no matter what he said, or plain angry or shocked, acting on his need.
Julia straightened her dress, before sitting up and putting a hand to his cheek, memorising the feel of it; roughened by this time of the day. It seemed to hurt to breathe, but one had to keep on doing so. “I know I’ve been awful today, but I promise, I promise I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Darling,” he said, and the word went right through her heart, as if he’d taken a knife to her. It wasn’t, it couldn’t, be real. “I know. You need to damn well look before you leap.”
Julia found she could manage a smile. Breathing seemed a little easier too. “You’d better go.”
“I should.” Then they looked at each other, and Julia’s longing and Edward’s – what? Grief? Anger? Passing need? – was more potent that any champagne could have been. He caught her hand as she raised it to push her hair back, and kissed her palm, and then she hardly knew which of them did what next, except they were growing more nearly entangled again, the blanket the only barrier between them. She was in too much of a haze of happiness to consider consequences. He ran a hand down her side as she focused intently on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, her heartbeat racing –
The front door slammed hard and they heard Aunt Daisy’s unmistakable light, brisk, tread in the hallway and they both froze as they were, eyes meeting in mutual shock and dismay.
“Heavens,” gasped Julia and shoved desperately at Edward before he could say anything, sending him right off the sofa and down onto the carpet.
Julia jumped up, hastily adjusting her dress, and then glanced down at Edward as he picked himself up off the floor. “Oh, dear. Sorry! Are you all right?”
“Fine, thank you,” said Edward. “Probably less injuries than usual after a run in with you.” He paused, pulling himself up with a grimace. “That is to say – Julia, I mean – I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Julia knelt down, heedless of whether or not Aunt Daisy might already be on the verge of entering, and kissed his forehead, landing clumsily nearer to his temple. “Don’t – please don’t. It’s been a strange day. I know that’s all. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not sure it is all,” he muttered, frowning as he refastened up his shirt buttons. Julia watched him with a pang of regret, before pushing her feelings away as firmly as she brushed the cream carnation petals from the sofa.
They heard the kitchen door bang, and then Aunt Daisy’s steps in the hall, getting louder. They exchanged another hasty glance, checking each other for more telltale signs.
“Your hair,” said Edward, with a vague gesture upwards, but before Julia could do more than try to smooth her curls back, Aunt Daisy was standing in the door way.
“Ned.” Her voice rose in surprise. “I had no idea you were here as well.”
Julia hastily retrieved her plate. “He brought me cake to eat in penance. I’m to contemplate my sins in disrupting marriage ceremonies with every bite. Or possibly he just wants me to choke on the sultanas.”
“I had to get out of everyone else’s way,” said Edward, rather stiffly; careful not to look at Julia. It was probably as well. She might have given way to laughter if he had.
Aunt Daisy only said, “Hmm,” and then frowned in the general direction of the sofa. “Have you got champagne on the carpet? I wish you’d be more careful! But then, if either of you were more careful, today would never have happened. Ned, please clean that up, dear. Julia, your case is in the porch if you want to take it upstairs. Or I suppose Ned should do that. Whichever way round you choose – I am much too tired to worry about any of it. Good night.”
She departed, leaving them to exchange yet another guilty look.
“Well,” said Julia, “I don’t think I’d better let you near my bedroom tonight, so I shall see to my own case, and you can clear up the champagne. Which is fair – my glass is on the table, so it’s your mess.” She hesitated on the point of opening the door. “It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean it, and I didn’t mind. Honestly.”
She waited a second or two longer, but Edward only gave her a nod and an awkward smile, and she made her way upstairs, hoping every step of the way that he would come after and prove her wrong, but he didn’t.
Once Julia had returned home, Edward sent a brief note via Nancy to say that he would come and see her to talk, but he never actually appeared. She had begun to hope he never would. Her parents had finally begun to permit her usual freedom again, and neither of them would be pleased to be reminded of the Incident in the Church (as Father liked to call it, capitals definitely being involved). Besides, Edward would only apologise and Julia had enjoyed their time on the sofa too much to want it spoiled by hearing exactly how much he regretted it.
She went about her usual social calendar of events, squired from time to time by young men she couldn’t work up any real interest in. Several of them probably weren’t interest in her either, only Father’s money. Today she was at least spared the company of Major Campbell or Peter Whoever-it-was-again, as they’d have been out of place at this charity tea in aid of a veteran’s appeal that Mother had dragged her to.
She’d sat through a tedious talk on how to alter hats and earned her reward of a cream bun, and was standing, cup and saucer in hand, trying to make small talk with Mrs Draper, Vice President of the charity, and hoping they could leave soon. Unfortunately, Mother was across the other side of the room, surrounded by people, as usual.
Mrs Draper moved on and Julia, sensing another presence at her elbow, turned her head and nearly dropped her tea when she saw Edward Iveson.
“Julia,” he said with a smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt your, er –” He waved a vague hand in the direction of the tea things. “Your father said I could find you here.”
She put her tea cup down to one side of her, too heavily. “Ned! You’ve seen Father? He’s only just beginning to get over the shock of the whole business – better to keep well out of his way.” She caught herself. “I should ask how you are first.”
“Julia,” he said again, and she tried to ignore the warmth in his voice, because she would only feel hopeful, and then he’d say that he and Caroline had patched things up and she shouldn’t feel bad, or something equally unwanted.
Edward held out his hand. “Would you come for a walk round the square with me? I want to talk to you.”
Julia gave him her hand before she thought not to. She could never really deny him anything, that was the trouble. Despite everything, in her heart he remained simply Ned, who had always been kind to her, who understood her jokes, was sometimes ridiculously priggish, and she would trust him with everything she had.
“Willingly,” she said, shaking that thought away and keeping her tone light. “It’s so stuffy in here – and you didn’t have to sit through the world’s longest talk on making hat decorations out of improbable items.”
She retrieved her coat from an old-fashioned parlour maid in back dress and white apron, and then, as they walked out of the door, she tried to ward off the worst. “Must we talk about that day? You can’t want to think about it, and I’d rather you didn’t apologise for kissing me. I know it didn’t mean anything to you, but I’d rather not have you spoiling everything by telling me you’re dreadfully sorry about it.”
“Julia,” said Edward, this time with exasperation. He tugged her halfway into the privet hedge, before they reached the gate. He kissed her, more gently but more deliberately than he had that evening at Aunt Daisy’s, and then pulled back before they could be observed by passers by. “I’d be a liar if I said I was sorry for kissing you. Now will you let me speak?”
Julia followed him through the low iron gate and tucked her arm through his, comforting warmth spreading through her. “But you can’t mean it. You loved Caroline and you despise me. If you’re trying to be honourable or something, that’s ridiculous and I won’t have it.”
“The only reason I didn’t come sooner is because I had to be sure of what the hell I did feel,” said Edward. “After that night at Aunt Daisy’s – that whole day – I was all at sea. I didn’t know myself. I’d gone to that church, thinking I was in love with Caroline and then by the end of it, all I could think of was you. I couldn’t trust myself any more. If I could be that fickle, what could I say to anyone?”
They walked along the pavement, trees above them beginning to bud into leaf, Julia having to stretch her legs to keep up, even though Edward was walking slowly.
“You’re not fickle.”
Edward turned his head. “No – at least, I hope not. Only an idiot, it seems. I always loved you. I just didn’t understand – wouldn’t let myself admit it. I did truly like Caroline, but she’s everything you’re not, and perhaps it was always more about that. I never hated you, Julia. You can be infuriating, and you will do the most hair-raising things, but I always admired you. I just –” He stopped and shrugged. “It never occurred to me that when you seemed to be interested in me, you were. I assumed you had to be admired by everyone – couldn’t bear to have someone immune to your charms. Which I wasn’t, and I resented it.”
“And I always thought you were the cleverest person I knew,” said Julia, though her heat was steadily beating faster. She wasn’t quite ready to believe such impossibilities yet; she’d wait for the sting in the tail before she said anything more.
Edward gave a reluctant laugh. “Nan said much the same thing – that I’d always got you wrong. And everything turned around in my head and I could see – Julia, were you terribly lonely when you were growing up?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “Mother never liked me going to school, and Rudy was so much younger. I did show off rather when you two visited, but only because I didn’t know how else to make you like me. I learned better at school, I can tell you. I don’t suppose even Mother being German would have been so bad if I hadn’t started off all wrong. Thank heaven for Nancy.”
Edward put his hand over hers. “Indeed.”
“I am sorry about the wedding,” said Julia. “I was desperate.”
“Next time I promise to listen to you before you take to such drastic measures.”
“Next time? How many awful people are you planning to try and marry?”
Edward grinned. “There’s only one awful person I’ve got hopes of, and somehow I don’t think she’ll be in much danger from you.”
“No,” said Julia, “the only danger is that we’ve made such a spectacle of ourselves that Father and Mother are going forbid the banns.”
“Don’t worry,” he told her, with all apparent seriousness, “if it comes to that, I feel sure I can count on you to climb out of the window at dead of night and run away with me.”
Which, Julia had to admit, was perfectly true.
***
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Snow White #15 (happily ever after)
Supplies and Styles: Eraser + Portrait
Word Count: 5162
Rating: PG
Warnings:
Notes: 1935, Same Age AU cntd from Under the Apple Tree and Out On A Limb. Edward Iveson/Julia Graves, Caroline Aldridge, Daisy Long.
Summary: Edward’s getting married. Julia feels she really must object…
***
It was an unusually fine day in March. Sun filtered through the stained glass into the tiny old church, casting splinters of colour over the congregation. It was the first wedding this parish had had in years and someone had decorated everything in sight with flowers and greenery. Julia, walking back inside, failed to appreciate the perfect setting, consumed by an increasingly urgent dilemma.
It wasn’t the first time Caroline had put her in an awkward position. Julia had met her and Edward on various occasions when they were in London, and Caroline had confided in Julia her feelings for Edward, or lack of them. Julia bit her tongue and kept Caroline’s worries to herself. Edward and Caroline had to sort out their own problems. Julia was far too biased to interfere. Not that she’d sat around moping after Ned Iveson, but nobody else ever seemed to interest her, and somehow Ned was always wandering in and out of her life when she was trying to forget him.
She’d thought it was fine now until last night when Caroline had poured out yet more worries to Julia, making her promise not to tell. But how could she ignore that the night before the wedding? Ned was also a friend of hers; a much older and dearer one than Caroline. She’d tried to tell him that he should talk to Caroline without breaking her promise and she’d hoped that would have worked, but here they were: everyone in the church and Caroline late.
As the wait went on, Julia stepped out into the churchyard in time to catch Diana Foyle, Caroline’s Maid of Honour, explaining Caroline’s absence to Edward – mere nothings about Caroline not feeling very well. She caught hold of Diana’s arm.
“Was she crying again?”
Diana turned, and her face relaxed in relief. “I’m afraid so. She swears there’s nothing wrong, that it’s not Edward. You know how she is – I expect it’s only nerves.”
She darted away, green silk skirt flying, leaving a handful of petals in her wake.
Julia marched back inside and half way down the aisle she came to a decision. Edward didn’t know the truth and Caroline was desperately unhappy. If she wasn’t making her escape out of the bedroom window, then when she arrived, someone had to do something to save them both, and who else would?
It turned out that stopping a wedding in real life was quite different to when it happened on the stage. The vicar seemed to take an age to even get to that point, and Julia’s legs nearly failed her when it came to standing up in front of so many friends and family – her parents were going to be shocked and Edward would finally truly hate her – and she got to her feet only just in time. She waved a hand as if back in the classroom and said, “I do! Object, I mean,” much too loudly in her fear that she wouldn’t be heard.
An awful pause ensued as every turned to look at Julia, standing in the aisle. She was vaguely aware of their attention, but her gaze was fixed on Edward who stared back, his face blank with shock and unreadable, but she turned cold. She’d done the wrong thing and Edward would hate her. Everyone was going to hate her.
Suddenly everyone was moving and talking: the Reverend Giles Tadworth trying to ask her to accompany the wedding couple to the vestry while the congregation muttered and Mr Aldridge spluttered and turned red. Then he turned on his heel and bore down on Julia so fiercely that she shrank back.
“Vicar, ignore her. It’s a lie – spite! Who is this girl in any case?”
Julia didn’t think she’d better remind him that they’d met yesterday at the supper after the wedding rehearsal. She took another step away.
“A friend,” said Edward, causing Mr Aldridge to swing around, and Julia was grateful. The mood in the church was definitely hostile and she wasn’t sure anyone would have intervened in time if Mr Aldridge had hit her. Edward’s mouth twisted around the words. “The ever-objectionable Miss Graves.”
The Vicar cleared his throat and then led Caroline, Edward, and Julia out through the narrow door into the equally narrow corridor that led to the small vestry.
“I take it you have a reason?” said the Vicar, once he’d steered the three of them inside. “Miss Graves?”
Julia swallowed. What if Caroline’s confession really hadn’t meant much? What if she’d got everything wildly wrong? Then she caught sight of Caroline, who had sat down on the nearest wooden chair, her hand pressed to her face. The train of her dress curled in a silken white pool at her feet. She wasn’t crying yet, but she was pale and quivery enough that it couldn’t be long before she was.
“Yes,” Julia said. “It’s not really my secret to tell, that’s the trouble.” She crouched in front of Caroline. “Caroline. You have to tell Ned the truth now.”
Caroline lowered her head, and her voice trembled when she spoke. “I told you it would be all right!”
“Then why have you been crying all morning?” said Julia, reaching for her hand. “You don’t want to do this. Your father’s not here – he can’t make you.” She glanced at the Vicar, trying very hard not to look at Edward’s face. She couldn’t bear to see either hate or heartbreak there. “Caroline, darling. You have to – or give me permission, or they’ll all think I’m mad or wicked.”
Caroline shook her head. “I mustn’t – oh, please, can we go back out there and have it over and done with?”
“I’m afraid,” said the Vicar, “that I am legally forbidden to do so at this point. That is not an option. Perhaps you would prefer to explain in private – to me, or to Mr Iveson?”
Relief crossed Caroline’s face, and she nodded and held out a hand to Edward. The vicar took Julia’s arm and ushered her out into the narrow corridor, Mr Tadworth pulling the door to after him.
“I’m sorry,” said Julia, after a few moments. “I didn’t think it was right.”
Mr Tadworth only gave a small nod, and Julia was left to wonder what Edward would think. He was in love with Caroline. Perhaps he’d want to marry her anyway if she was willing, even once he understood she didn’t love him, she loved Jack Sheldon. Edward was the sort of person who cared about promises and duty. Maybe he’d think he was obliged. Maybe Caroline was right and he would have been better off not knowing. Julia’s chest tightened. She wished she’d held her tongue like a reasonable person. It wasn’t as if there was a genuine objection – neither of them was a bigamist, or a criminal, or anything like that.
Edward re-emerged and directed a silent appeal towards the vicar. Julia had to admit that she was horrid, because the sight instantly raised her spirits. He wouldn’t look like that if Caroline had smoothed things over.
Mr Tadworth disappeared back inside the vestry to do his best with poor Caroline, leaving Edward and Julia alone in the corridor.
“Would you,” said Edward, nearly as stiff as the collar of his best shirt, “be so good as to fetch Diana?”
Julia fought inappropriate laughter. “Oh, dear. Is she crying again?”
“Good God,” said Edward, rounding on her, “do you think this is a joke? Why can’t you stop and think before you do things? I suppose we must all be relieved that you refrained from leaping from the gallery or climbing up the spire!”
He had a right to be angry. Julia bit her tongue and refused to be drawn. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how dreadful it would be. I couldn’t just sit there and not do something.”
“It would have been better than this!”
Julia shifted backwards along the wall. Edward had been annoyed with her far too often in the past, but not like this. “I truly am sorry.”
“I was right years ago,” he said, and sagged back against a notice board full of tattered and fluttering typewritten notes and rules about the parish council and mother’s groups and prayer meetings. “You’re the worst girl I’ve ever met.”
“Obnoxious,” said Julia. “You said I was obnoxious. I remember.”
“So you are. You’ve just ruined my wedding!”
Julia folded her arms. “Some wedding. With the bride crying the whole time because she wanted to marry someone else!”
“Yes, quite,” said Edward, his anger abruptly withdrawn and buried under ice. “Please. Fetch Diana. Caroline needs someone and I don’t think she’ll want her parents.”
Julia hugged her arms in against herself. There was a chilly draught in the corridor. “I don’t mean to be difficult, but I don’t think either of us had better go out there again until the vicar comes back.”
Edward stared at her blankly, before his expression shifted as understanding dawned. “I suppose not. You’d better ask him to let you out the vestry door. Mr Aldridge was ready to kill you – and if anyone’s going to do that, Julia, it’ll be me.”
“Ned,” she said, unable to help the hurt bleeding into her voice.
He shook his head. “I know, I know – you meant well, but – good God, Julia! I could murder you!”
“Mind your language in church,” she said, unable to help herself. “I’m not sure you should make death threats here, either. The vicar might come back out and hear you.”
Edward glared, but whatever he was going to say was lost as Mr Tadworth chose to join them, on his cue.
“Well,” said the vicar. “I shall go and explain. Do you want to come with me, Iveson? It would probably be best.”
Edward looked at Julia for moment before turning back to Mr Tadworth. “Better let Julia escape first, and then – well, I’ve got to face them all sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”
Julia’s smart new shoes were pinching her feet, and not very suitable to cross-country walks, but she resisted the temptation to take them off. She’d didn’t fancy risking cowpats and thistles in bare feet.
It wasn’t far to the Longs’ village across the fields, so she persevered until she got to the Ted and Anne Long’s farmhouse. Julia had stayed there on the previous night along with her parents, but she hesitated over going back inside. Would the Longs want her there? And even if they did, her parents would be furious, especially Father. She’d rather face them later when they’d calmed down. She carried on down the lane to Aunt Daisy’s house instead. She could keep out of the way there until everybody had gone home or calmed down.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”
Julia glanced up from her borrowed book, and then rose sharply, like a guilty school girl. “Aunt Daisy! Miss Long, I should say. I’m sorry. Is anyone looking for me?”
“Not as such. But someone said they’d seen you come this way, so I thought I’d find out before your parents grew too worried. Would you like a sandwich?”
Julia sighed and sank back down onto the couch. “I don’t deserve sandwiches.”
“I was asking if you’d like one, not if you were worthy of it,” said Aunt Daisy and passed them over. “Most people who could went home, so there’s plenty in need of eating. I don’t see why you shouldn’t do your part.”
Julia took the plate, only realising now how hungry she was. She bit into a ham sandwich. “I thought it’d be better if I kept out of the way.”
“Very wise,” said Aunt Daisy, and sat down, setting to work on her sandwiches, her plate balanced precariously on her knee.
“Aren’t you angry?”
Aunt Daisy regarded her curiously. “With you? No, not very much. I think you could have said before the ceremony rather than during, but I suspect Ned might live to be grateful.”
“I doubt that.”
“One day. Not now,” said Aunt Daisy. “I’m afraid he’s unlikely to feel very fond of you, though.”
Julia studied her remaining sandwiches and found she’d lost her appetite. Nobody enjoyed public humiliation. Edward would never want to see her again. “Is it really all right if I stay here?”
“Of course,” said Aunt Daisy. “I had all the rooms made up, but most people on our side are getting the afternoon train back. Not the Scottish Ivesons, of course, but they’re staying in a hotel anyway. I have to go back – I’ll make sure someone brings your case over later.”
Julia carried on reading. It was cool and quiet in Aunt Daisy’s house and she wrapped a plaid blanket around her summery wedding frock. She hadn’t slept well last night, with Caroline’s confession on her mind, and it turned out disrupting weddings was unexpectedly draining. Her book fell onto her lap and she drifted into a doze, not waking until someone else arrived and called her name.
She thought she was dreaming as she pulled herself up. It seemed to be Edward standing over her, and she was miserably sure that couldn’t be true.
“I heard a rumour you were here,” said Edward, who did seem to be real, even after she’d blinked several times to be sure.
Julia swung her legs round, swathed in the woollen blanket. “Ned?”
“I woke you, didn’t I?” he said, and placed a plate with two slices of cake on it and a bottle of champagne on the nearby low table.
Julia was beginning to think she should try pinching herself. “Shouldn’t you hate me?”
“I probably will soon,” said Edward, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Right now, though, you are the only person in this entire village I don’t have to explain anything to, and I thought I’d bring you some cake. The least you can do after all this is help us dispose of the damned thing.”
Julia relaxed and risked a small smile. “Aunt Daisy said much the same about the sandwiches earlier.”
“Sandwiches are nothing to the wretched cake,” said Edward. “Please.” He waved a hand towards the plate. Then he frowned at the table and got up, disappearing elsewhere in the house while Julia decided not to look gift slices of cake in the face and picked up the plate. She started picking out raisins and sultanas and pieces of cherry and almond.
Edward returned with two glasses, and set about pouring them a glass of champagne each.
“Are you drunk?”
He raised his head before passing her a glass. “No. I wish I was, but it was bad enough having to explain over and over to everyone sober.”
“I am most awfully sorry,” said Julia. “Truly. Is – is Caroline all right?”
Edward sank back into the sofa with a small groan. “Caroline is fine. She escaped about three hours ago. Sergeant Sheldon turned up and whisked her away. I think his sister was at the church and got hold of him. Which, frankly, was a relief, because otherwise her father would never have stopped trying to rearrange the ceremony.”
“Wouldn’t you have preferred that?” asked Julia, after a cautious pause. She picked out candied peel and ate it.
Weariness fell over his face. “No,” he said shortly, and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t seem to feel anything just now, not even about Caroline.”
“Never mind,” said Julia. “I expect that’s mainly shock and you’ll feel dreadful in the morning.”
Edward’s mouth twitched. “Very comforting.”
She broke off a segment of marzipan and hard royal icing. “Have my parents gone yet?”
“Oh, yes,” said Edward. “Your father looked pretty grim all through lunch. I expect that’s why I don’t hate you right now. Everyone else does. Well, except for all the people who hate me instead. I think Caroline’s whole family are convinced I must be some kind of black-hearted villain. Or we both are.”
Julia grimaced.
“It’s been an appalling day,” he said, and took another sip of champagne before briefly closing his eyes.
Julia looked sidelong at him, less than an arm’s length away from her across the sofa. “I’m sure this is all wrong. You shouldn’t be here with me.”
“Don’t worry,” said Edward. “Tomorrow, as you said, I’m sure I’ll feel everything I ought. You’ve made me alternately a laughing stock and a villain, and I’ve had to try and tell at least a hundred people what was going on, when you and Caroline seem to be the only ones who actually know. Damn you both.”
Julia raised her glass. “Thank you.”
“You always do this,” he said. “Something terrible and stupidly heroic and I’m not sure you shouldn’t be shut away somewhere for your own safety – and maybe everyone else’s.” He tilted his head, and his eyes darkened. “Why, Julia? Do you hate me that much?”
Julia put down the champagne. Her better mood was only illusion; it disappeared, like bubbles in the glass falling flat. She had to swallow hard in order to get any words out. “I could never hate you.”
It wasn’t fair that Edward, who had managed to misread her for so long and be so obtuse about so many other things, understood her implication immediately. His face softened, and then he leant forwards, resting his hand on the blanket between them as he kissed her cheek.
Julia closed her eyes, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She shouldn’t feel anything, hope anything, especially not today, but that didn’t stop her having to curl her fingers into fists so as not to catch hold of him, to try and hold her breath till he moved away. She could feel his warmth, smell the champagne and the faint, lingering mustiness of the old church and village hall that hung about his wedding clothes.
Edward didn’t pull back. He slipped his hand into hers; the touch of his fingers electric against her skin, and then he bent in to kiss her again, this time on the mouth. At that, Julia surrendered, grasping the lapel of his best jacket, crushing the battered carnation that he hadn’t yet unpinned. Petals fell onto the red blanket, as she kissed him back fiercely, the way she’d wanted to for ages. Edward couldn’t really be himself – she ought not – but he tugged her in so closely and kissed her so hard that all she said in any sort of protest was, “Ned,” and then ran her fingers through his disordered hair, dazed and entranced by this impossible outcome.
A few more moments, and Julia managed to press her hand against his shirt and gather enough breath to say, “We shouldn’t.”
“No,” Edward agreed, pulling back, if not very far. His eyes searched her face, and Julia had to bite her lip to keep tears from welling up. He couldn’t possibly mean any of this. He’d been going to marry Caroline this morning. He must be drunk, no matter what he said, or plain angry or shocked, acting on his need.
Julia straightened her dress, before sitting up and putting a hand to his cheek, memorising the feel of it; roughened by this time of the day. It seemed to hurt to breathe, but one had to keep on doing so. “I know I’ve been awful today, but I promise, I promise I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Darling,” he said, and the word went right through her heart, as if he’d taken a knife to her. It wasn’t, it couldn’t, be real. “I know. You need to damn well look before you leap.”
Julia found she could manage a smile. Breathing seemed a little easier too. “You’d better go.”
“I should.” Then they looked at each other, and Julia’s longing and Edward’s – what? Grief? Anger? Passing need? – was more potent that any champagne could have been. He caught her hand as she raised it to push her hair back, and kissed her palm, and then she hardly knew which of them did what next, except they were growing more nearly entangled again, the blanket the only barrier between them. She was in too much of a haze of happiness to consider consequences. He ran a hand down her side as she focused intently on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, her heartbeat racing –
The front door slammed hard and they heard Aunt Daisy’s unmistakable light, brisk, tread in the hallway and they both froze as they were, eyes meeting in mutual shock and dismay.
“Heavens,” gasped Julia and shoved desperately at Edward before he could say anything, sending him right off the sofa and down onto the carpet.
Julia jumped up, hastily adjusting her dress, and then glanced down at Edward as he picked himself up off the floor. “Oh, dear. Sorry! Are you all right?”
“Fine, thank you,” said Edward. “Probably less injuries than usual after a run in with you.” He paused, pulling himself up with a grimace. “That is to say – Julia, I mean – I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Julia knelt down, heedless of whether or not Aunt Daisy might already be on the verge of entering, and kissed his forehead, landing clumsily nearer to his temple. “Don’t – please don’t. It’s been a strange day. I know that’s all. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not sure it is all,” he muttered, frowning as he refastened up his shirt buttons. Julia watched him with a pang of regret, before pushing her feelings away as firmly as she brushed the cream carnation petals from the sofa.
They heard the kitchen door bang, and then Aunt Daisy’s steps in the hall, getting louder. They exchanged another hasty glance, checking each other for more telltale signs.
“Your hair,” said Edward, with a vague gesture upwards, but before Julia could do more than try to smooth her curls back, Aunt Daisy was standing in the door way.
“Ned.” Her voice rose in surprise. “I had no idea you were here as well.”
Julia hastily retrieved her plate. “He brought me cake to eat in penance. I’m to contemplate my sins in disrupting marriage ceremonies with every bite. Or possibly he just wants me to choke on the sultanas.”
“I had to get out of everyone else’s way,” said Edward, rather stiffly; careful not to look at Julia. It was probably as well. She might have given way to laughter if he had.
Aunt Daisy only said, “Hmm,” and then frowned in the general direction of the sofa. “Have you got champagne on the carpet? I wish you’d be more careful! But then, if either of you were more careful, today would never have happened. Ned, please clean that up, dear. Julia, your case is in the porch if you want to take it upstairs. Or I suppose Ned should do that. Whichever way round you choose – I am much too tired to worry about any of it. Good night.”
She departed, leaving them to exchange yet another guilty look.
“Well,” said Julia, “I don’t think I’d better let you near my bedroom tonight, so I shall see to my own case, and you can clear up the champagne. Which is fair – my glass is on the table, so it’s your mess.” She hesitated on the point of opening the door. “It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean it, and I didn’t mind. Honestly.”
She waited a second or two longer, but Edward only gave her a nod and an awkward smile, and she made her way upstairs, hoping every step of the way that he would come after and prove her wrong, but he didn’t.
Once Julia had returned home, Edward sent a brief note via Nancy to say that he would come and see her to talk, but he never actually appeared. She had begun to hope he never would. Her parents had finally begun to permit her usual freedom again, and neither of them would be pleased to be reminded of the Incident in the Church (as Father liked to call it, capitals definitely being involved). Besides, Edward would only apologise and Julia had enjoyed their time on the sofa too much to want it spoiled by hearing exactly how much he regretted it.
She went about her usual social calendar of events, squired from time to time by young men she couldn’t work up any real interest in. Several of them probably weren’t interest in her either, only Father’s money. Today she was at least spared the company of Major Campbell or Peter Whoever-it-was-again, as they’d have been out of place at this charity tea in aid of a veteran’s appeal that Mother had dragged her to.
She’d sat through a tedious talk on how to alter hats and earned her reward of a cream bun, and was standing, cup and saucer in hand, trying to make small talk with Mrs Draper, Vice President of the charity, and hoping they could leave soon. Unfortunately, Mother was across the other side of the room, surrounded by people, as usual.
Mrs Draper moved on and Julia, sensing another presence at her elbow, turned her head and nearly dropped her tea when she saw Edward Iveson.
“Julia,” he said with a smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt your, er –” He waved a vague hand in the direction of the tea things. “Your father said I could find you here.”
She put her tea cup down to one side of her, too heavily. “Ned! You’ve seen Father? He’s only just beginning to get over the shock of the whole business – better to keep well out of his way.” She caught herself. “I should ask how you are first.”
“Julia,” he said again, and she tried to ignore the warmth in his voice, because she would only feel hopeful, and then he’d say that he and Caroline had patched things up and she shouldn’t feel bad, or something equally unwanted.
Edward held out his hand. “Would you come for a walk round the square with me? I want to talk to you.”
Julia gave him her hand before she thought not to. She could never really deny him anything, that was the trouble. Despite everything, in her heart he remained simply Ned, who had always been kind to her, who understood her jokes, was sometimes ridiculously priggish, and she would trust him with everything she had.
“Willingly,” she said, shaking that thought away and keeping her tone light. “It’s so stuffy in here – and you didn’t have to sit through the world’s longest talk on making hat decorations out of improbable items.”
She retrieved her coat from an old-fashioned parlour maid in back dress and white apron, and then, as they walked out of the door, she tried to ward off the worst. “Must we talk about that day? You can’t want to think about it, and I’d rather you didn’t apologise for kissing me. I know it didn’t mean anything to you, but I’d rather not have you spoiling everything by telling me you’re dreadfully sorry about it.”
“Julia,” said Edward, this time with exasperation. He tugged her halfway into the privet hedge, before they reached the gate. He kissed her, more gently but more deliberately than he had that evening at Aunt Daisy’s, and then pulled back before they could be observed by passers by. “I’d be a liar if I said I was sorry for kissing you. Now will you let me speak?”
Julia followed him through the low iron gate and tucked her arm through his, comforting warmth spreading through her. “But you can’t mean it. You loved Caroline and you despise me. If you’re trying to be honourable or something, that’s ridiculous and I won’t have it.”
“The only reason I didn’t come sooner is because I had to be sure of what the hell I did feel,” said Edward. “After that night at Aunt Daisy’s – that whole day – I was all at sea. I didn’t know myself. I’d gone to that church, thinking I was in love with Caroline and then by the end of it, all I could think of was you. I couldn’t trust myself any more. If I could be that fickle, what could I say to anyone?”
They walked along the pavement, trees above them beginning to bud into leaf, Julia having to stretch her legs to keep up, even though Edward was walking slowly.
“You’re not fickle.”
Edward turned his head. “No – at least, I hope not. Only an idiot, it seems. I always loved you. I just didn’t understand – wouldn’t let myself admit it. I did truly like Caroline, but she’s everything you’re not, and perhaps it was always more about that. I never hated you, Julia. You can be infuriating, and you will do the most hair-raising things, but I always admired you. I just –” He stopped and shrugged. “It never occurred to me that when you seemed to be interested in me, you were. I assumed you had to be admired by everyone – couldn’t bear to have someone immune to your charms. Which I wasn’t, and I resented it.”
“And I always thought you were the cleverest person I knew,” said Julia, though her heat was steadily beating faster. She wasn’t quite ready to believe such impossibilities yet; she’d wait for the sting in the tail before she said anything more.
Edward gave a reluctant laugh. “Nan said much the same thing – that I’d always got you wrong. And everything turned around in my head and I could see – Julia, were you terribly lonely when you were growing up?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “Mother never liked me going to school, and Rudy was so much younger. I did show off rather when you two visited, but only because I didn’t know how else to make you like me. I learned better at school, I can tell you. I don’t suppose even Mother being German would have been so bad if I hadn’t started off all wrong. Thank heaven for Nancy.”
Edward put his hand over hers. “Indeed.”
“I am sorry about the wedding,” said Julia. “I was desperate.”
“Next time I promise to listen to you before you take to such drastic measures.”
“Next time? How many awful people are you planning to try and marry?”
Edward grinned. “There’s only one awful person I’ve got hopes of, and somehow I don’t think she’ll be in much danger from you.”
“No,” said Julia, “the only danger is that we’ve made such a spectacle of ourselves that Father and Mother are going forbid the banns.”
“Don’t worry,” he told her, with all apparent seriousness, “if it comes to that, I feel sure I can count on you to climb out of the window at dead of night and run away with me.”
Which, Julia had to admit, was perfectly true.
***
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And, tbf, she did try to tell him the evening before, but it didn't do much good.