Two weddings and several revelations (22)

[the_comfortable_courtesan]

The spring comes slowly, up this way

There was a fine northern light illuminated the gallery at Nitherholme: Beauf looked around it with a certain pride. It was pleasing in itself – the fine paintings, the excellence of their arrangement – but what was also gratifying was the way in which his views on matters of art and display had come to be valued. There were a deal of requests to come and look over the collections accrued by some ancestor, as well as very pleasing invitations to sit on bodies that considered putting on exhibitions or setting up public galleries and matters of education in art.

While it was given out that this showed his ancestry – that former Duke who had built up the collections at Qualling – Beauf believed that he owed his eye, such as it was, to his mother. He had read her diaries, seen her notes for revising the catalogue of the Qualling collection, perused his father’s memoir and heard him speak of her. She had had quite the finest feeling for art.

He sat down at the desk and began looking at the letters that had arrived in the morning’s post. One from Hannah Roberts, asking very civilly for some information for a series of essays she was commissioned to on women painters. He scribbled a few notes in the margins as an aide-memoire, and put the letter under a paper-weight so that he would see it and not forget about it while he addressed himself to various dutiful letters concerning the management of the estate.

After a while he looked up and stretched and got up and walked over to the window. Spring had still not arrived here, although it had already reached Qualling: but there was a look of winter on retreat, only a few faint streaks of yet unmelted snow here and there, waters no longer frozen. He would have expected to see Julius somewhere about the gardens, already preparing – but he could not see him.

Surely he must have imagined, last autumn, that Julius was discontent and wishful to leave. They had been on quite the happiest terms lately – oh, entirely. If he felt a little melancholic, why, it must be this still wintery scene before him (for he did not believe his father’s jesting remarks about Nitherholme being haunted by the gloomy spirit of that jealous hag Miss Billston). It could not – could it? – be anything to do with the two weddings that had finally been accomplished, and the happy couples waved off upon their wedding journeys?

Had both gone off in most exemplary fashion: Beauf had stood groomsman to Rollo, that had been in an entire and most unwonted taking over the event; had also offered stand up for Bexbury, but Lord Abertyldd had begged the honour for the sake, he declared, of his old friend, Bexbury’s late father Rowley Dabney. Oh, there had been a deal of glances exchanged betwixt him and Flora, and the thought that marriage might mean someone that would provide a sympathetic ear into which one might pour one’s complaints at such occasions. But he had also took the thought that it would be entire exhausting being married to Flora: sure he knew not how Tom Ollifaunt bore with being married to her sister Bess, ever up and doing.

He rang for Travers to come and take the letters to be posted. The latter murmured, upon entering, that luncheon was laid as usual in the small parlour. Beauf consulted his watch. Indeed 'twas well on into that hour.

He frowned. Usually by this time Julius would have come bounding into the gallery, laughing at him for becoming so engrossed in his tasks that he forgot to eat, telling him what went forth in the gardens, what was blooming in the hothouses –

Thank you, Travers, I will just go see what has happened to Mr Roberts.

Travers was too well-trained to express any surprise that Beauf did not just send one of the footmen. Or, by now, was used to the way things were here at Nitherholme.

There was a bitter breeze blowing as Beauf made his way to the hothouses, having looked out from the terrace and not observed Julius anywhere about the grounds. It was agreeable to get inside into the warm.

He did not immediately observe Julius, but, walking further through the alleyways, found him seated at a bench, in an attitude of – despair?

Julius?

Julius turned to him a face ravaged with grief and anger. He held out to Beauf a paper crumpled in one hand. Beauf took it, unfolded it, and began to read.

He looked up. Is this – can this be so?

I suppose, said Julius, rising to his feet and plucking the letter from Beauf’s hand, it must be. But 'tis entire news to me, that I am a bastard, begot by this fellow that on his deathbed finally desired to do right by me and left me his fortune. Was never told – ever supposed Roberts was my own father –

Why, has he not ever shown you the most exemplary paternal affection?

Beauf put his arms around Julius, who sobbed a little on his shoulder. And my mother! Now I apprehend certain matters –

I have no doubt, said Beauf, that this fellow – Evenden – was a wretch who took some advantage of her – that she is not in the least to blame –

O, mayhap – but sure I think I should have been told –

Beauf tried to recall when he had been told that the lady in the portrait was his mama – did he truly remember being held up by his father when he was very small indeed? – had never been a secret.

He hugged Julius closer. Julius, however, drew away a little, looking him in the face. Indeed, Your Lordship, you had better not do that.

Julius! You cannot suppose that this makes any difference betwixt us? Sure let me still be Beauf to you.

Julius gave a little sigh and said, since we are about revelations, I will disclose to you that I am not merely a bastard, I am a sodomite, and it is – discomposing – to me to be embraced by you.

Beauf did not let him go, but held him at a little distance, feeling an emotion that was – oh, it was like that time he had been besought to go look at the collections at Hembleby Hall, that were in the main a sad testimony to the propensity of successive Lords Abertyldd to be beguiled by art-dealers: and then he had opened a drab-looking portfolio with no expectations whatsoever and found a fine set of Rembrandt prints. A revelation.

O, he said. Julius – o, I had not even let myself think in such terms. Oh, Julius – he tilted Julius’s lowered head up, and planted the gentlest of kisses on his lips. Is there any – do you – if there is some fellow you should wish to invite –

Beauf! It has ever been you.

Me? Oh, my dear Julius – I fancy I never even thought - being so cautioned by Father about the evils of abusing our position – but –

You are not horrified?

I am honoured. 'Tis – now I see things in their proper perspective -

Julius gave a reluctant smile.

- and – my dear – you are now a fellow of independent means, could, did I read those figures aright, set up a landed proprietor yourself – or mayhap undertake foreign expeditions –

Julius looked down at the letter still crumpled in his hand, shaking his head. I am not even sure I should accept this bequest –

You should not decide too abrupt – take thought, consider upon the matter – and sure, I fancy you should come take a little luncheon and not make any decision upon an empty stomach.

Julius gave a little sigh, then reached out to clasp Beauf’s hand. Have you ever heard Flora and Hannah speak of each other as one another’s ever-fixed mark? Sure you have always been mine.

Beauf led him to the small parlour, made him take a cup of hot coffee laced with brandy, for he was shivering a little – the room was warm enough, but perchance struck a little cool after the hothouse. He made a up a plateful for Julius, taking thought as if for an invalid of things that would be easy to eat, that might tempt his appetite.

They sat in silence for a while, until, at length, Julius looked up from contemplating the depths of his cup and said, I must go up to Town and speak to my mother and my – to Roberts – o, Beauf, do not look as though I were Hamlet going to rebuke his mother in her chamber, I wish to let them know what has come about and do not think it is anything to put into a letter – and whether 'tis right for me to accept it.

I wish, said Beauf slowly, that you would talk to Lady Bexbury about this business.

Lady Bexbury?

Well, the letter says, Seraphine Pyecroft, that was cook in the establishment of Madame Clorinda Cathcart, a lady of the town. One must suppose that she was apprized of the matter.

Why, I am sure she behaved most exemplary generous, did not turn my mother off but kept her in the household, did not make her put me out to nurse, but – sure that was a deal of a long time ago.

Beauf frowned. He could not quite put into words why, in a tangle of this nature, it would be most answerable to lay it before Lady Bexbury. She had been so exceeding kind over certain troubles of his own.

Sure you must judge for yourself, he said. Let us see is there a Bradshaw about the place, or whether we need to send out for one.

It was somewhat painful to have Julius leave, after these declarations: but it would be entirely better, Beauf confided, did he deal with this troubling matter, get his way clear before him, before they acted upon this other revelation.

Julius looked up. Oh, he said, I will come back. I daresay there may be some matter of speaking to lawyers as well – but, oh, Beauf, dearest friend, I will come back.

Comments

[white_hart]

Oh, it's taken them long enough, but I'm glad that those two are finally working things out!

[rymenhild]

I am also glad!

Maybe Sandy will also tell Julius to talk to Lady Bexbury. Sandy met her in the first place because Clorinda needed help dealing with Evenden on Seraphine's behalf. Does Julius know that Clorinda is his non-legal godmother, I wonder?

[kore]

OMG, I forgot about that! That makes it even better.

[kore]

ALLCAPS EDITION

Julius gave a little sigh and said, since we are about revelations, I will disclose to you that I am not merely a bastard, I am a sodomite, and it is – discomposing – to me to be embraced by you.
Beauf did not let him go, but held him at a little distance, feeling an emotion that was – oh, it was like that time he had been besought to go look at the collections at Hembleby Hall, that were in the main a sad testimony to the propensity of successive Lords Abertyldd to be beguiled by art-dealers: and then he had opened a drab-looking portfolio with no expectations whatsoever and found a fine set of Rembrandt prints. A revelation.
O, he said. Julius – o, I had not even let myself think in such terms. Oh, Julius – he tilted Julius’s lowered head up, and planted the gentlest of kisses on his lips. Is there any – do you – if there is some fellow you should wish to invite –

THEY ARE SO CUTE, I AM GONNA DIE. And what a comparison, a surprise Rembrandt! Aww.

Julius looked down at the letter still crumpled in his hand, shaking his head. I am not even sure I should accept this bequest –

//FACEPALM

(TAKE THE DAMN MONEY)

Julius gave a little sigh, then reached out to clasp Beauf’s hand. Have you ever heard Flora and Hannah speak of each other as one another’s ever-fixed mark? Sure you have always been mine.

omg //fans self

Beauf led him to the small parlour, made him take a cup of hot coffee laced with brandy, for he was shivering a little – the room was warm enough, but perchance struck a little cool after the hothouse. He made a up a plateful for Julius, taking thought as if for an invalid of things that would be easy to eat, that might tempt his appetite.

What a good fellow is Beauf! So considerate. And poor J has had several shocks, even if some were good ones.

I wish, said Beauf slowly, that you would talk to Lady Bexbury about this business.

AND SMRT. YES. GOOD IDEA.

[kathmandu]

Awwwwwwwwwwwwww. So nice to see them open their hearts!

[violsva]

Awwwwwwww, Julius!

[nenya_kanadka]

Eeeeeeeee, yes! I'm so happy they're finally on the same page. Awww.

Also, Evenden finally did the right thing, if in the most difficult way for Julius. Oh man. ❤ Poor guy.

So happy for these two.

[entirelydisregardablelout]

"Bradshaw's was a series of railway timetables and travel guide books published by W.J. Adams and later Henry Blacklock, both of London. They are named after founder George Bradshaw, who produced his first timetable in October 1839."