"Conversation"
November -the day after Julia accepted William's proposal…
Sunlight was now slanting in right to left through the window, from the west, indicating passage of more time. Outside, Lake Ontario was smooth and reflected a cloudless fall sky. The two lovers were oblivious, wrapped up once again in the bedclothes, a fire burning low in the hearth. William was curled on his left side with his head on Julia's chest and his arms around her body; her knees were thrown up over his thighs, and she nested inside his embrace. His right hand luxuriated in the softness of her belly, hips and legs and her hands played with his dark head of hair, and every once in a while they sighed together or stirred to kiss. He could hear her heart beat and listened in satisfaction as it synched with his own. Happiness floated like a halo in the room, playing with dust-motes flickering in the sunshine. They had just finished a rather extended and sensual session of lovemaking, afterwards retreating to the bed for warmth and recuperation, with each of them separately entertaining the notion of replicating the experience in the future: Julia was lazily trying to decide if she could acquire the wooden table from her father's estate, and William, who was having trouble cogitating, was making vague mental notes to see exactly how high the top was from the floor so he could make one someday.
"William?" she asked.
"Hum-mmm?" he murmured.
"Do we have to leave today? Maybe one more day will not hurt. I can cancel the carriage…" She wriggled tighter to his body, pulling her feet in to trap his legs with hers, her backside pressing closer. It was about time this old bed Ruby and I shared as a children experienced something other than girlish whispers! She guessed it was going to be a problem keeping herself at a proper distance from him in public, even in her new status as his fiancée, when they got back home.
He turned his head to look at her. His mind was still blissfully free, but when he saw her he crooked his lips in a lopsided expression. "Well, I did say I wanted the 'set'…." His smile morphed further from winsome look to leer. "Moonlight, firelight, lamplight, and most recently sunlight…." He laughed and Julia swatted him playfully.
Earlier, after finally getting dressed, they had succumbed to a sudden flare of renewed passion, ending up by the south-facing window and using the rectangular table to support her weight and for Julia to recline upon, offering the most sweet and exquisite angle for their connection. He teased, "I will eventually collect the remainder, which I count as candle, electric and starlight." He repositioned slightly. "But, milady, I thought we decided…after all we have wrecked two perfectly good sets of linens…"
"And my dress buttons will not tolerate any more torque—you did promise to sew that last one back on…" Blue eyes sparking in humor. "You are the only man I know that keeps needle and thread in his pockets…"
"And you promised to find my cufflink…" he said as he stretched and then surrounded her again with his arms. "We don't want Mrs Hastings coming across it…or us."
"Good heavens, no! She will be scandalized enough at our abrupt engagement, as I will be violating Society's expected mourning customs…" Julia sighed contentedly, for once not worried in the least about how any of this will 'look' to the world. "William, I suppose I am being selfish wanting to stay on here… There will be other chances…" She reached for him to kiss and witnessed an alteration in his expression, ever so slightly, before he covered it back up. She though about it for a second and then asked, "William, what are you thinking? I saw something pass over your face and I want to know."
He frowned and shifted in bed, clearing his throat and said: "It is, er, nothing really." He enjoyed the quiet in his head that came over him in the afterglow of relations with Julia—a new and euphoric experience and he relished, and hoped she would not press him. He went back to stroking and kissing her, but she pushed them apart slightly to stare at him. When he saw that silence would not satisfy her, he said simply: "I suppose you know that I have a good memory, especially for things that I see, but I also remember…conversations. For instance, I can recall at least the gist, if not verbatim, of the lessons I learned from the Jesuit Fathers who taught me…"
"William, you are prevaricating. I thought we agreed on honesty." Julia reminded him that since discovering Gillies was well and truly dead and putting Leslie Garland on notice, they had fielded several difficult, even painful, discussions about their relationship. She remembered telling him 'If we can get through really putting the past to rest then that truly frees up our future.' The only thing they drew the line at was discussion regarding details of any previous sexual experiences, and while Julia discovered, much to her delight, that William was neither a prude nor naïve, he was firm about that material staying well in that past. She saw the wisdom in that, as she too did not want anyone else haunting their relationship, at least not any more.
"Julia, please, how about later?" He asked and tried divert her train of thought again with a kiss.
"William! You are distracting me again. What is wrong? What did I say?" Julia was puzzled now and not about to let it go.
He exhaled and held her tighter, unwilling to lie, but not wishing to disclose. "We agreed to go back to Toronto today and I am confident we will be married in a few short weeks on one of the dates we chose this morning. You and I also were satisfied to wait until our wedding night for our next… er…festivities," he grinned.
"Because waiting worked so well so far, William." Julia giggled as she gestured to their pile of clothing flung hastily over the back of a chair. "But, yes, I cannot imagine anything getting in the way of wedding plans. We will be married before the New Year. So what is bothering you that intrudes on our, er… intimate moment now?"
And you have complained about my need for the truth, he thought. Still feeling adrift in pleasure, he offered, "It's just that you said that to me once before…that there would be other chances…"
Julia's eyes flew open after a long moment of dredging her own recollection. "Right before I broke up with you. Oh, William, I must have been crazy!" she interjected.
He showed mock-surprise and an amused tone. "Julia…that's hardly a term a psychiatrist should use, do you think? Crazy?" He was hoping she would drop it if he moved the topic away.
It was not working. "William, I never should have turned you down. So many things would have been different…" She paused, untangled herself from him, but did not know how to proceed. 'So many things being different' covered a lot of territory… She needed to look at him directly. He was quiet, watching her. "Memories are always more distinct when paired with a strong emotion… Do you really have that complete a memory of events?" she asked. I have always admired his mind but if he truly remembers everything then I am going to have to deal with the implications of that in our marriage! She saw his large brown eyes were refocusing and losing that dreamy look of contentment.
He nodded, still waiting. As the silence drew out he prompted her. "Julia, you have demonstrated a habit of distancing yourself from me. I am trusting there will be no more of that." He locked his eyes with hers. "I understanding needing time to digest things, to process information…that is my habit I suppose, and for that I have paid a terrible price because my slowness to react made you believe I no longer cared. I have told you that I did not know my answer right away—partly because I did not know how to process your questions for me and I wanted to answer truthfully. I am so sorry that I caused you to doubt me…."
"Oh, William, if anything it was myself I doubted. How gallantly you put it, 'distancing.' I ran away from you at least twice. And, yes, it seems crazy to me now that I ever did that…" She stalled again.
"I make it out to be at least five times…but who's counting?" He said it lightly, but Julia heard the depth of emotion.
"Five?" She asked, frowning.
"After our first date, then to Buffalo, marriage to Darcy, to Vienna to study psychiatry and to this very house last year after you were freed..." He said it softly, regretted it immediately, and studied her for a while before deciding what to say next. Since she appeared to be taking it all in, he decided to finish his thought. "I was going to propose before you left for the States. When I came to visit Buffalo the first time I even brought the ring with me to ask you for your hand, before I knew you were already engaged. I planned to ask you to marry me at the Pan Am, and then of course there was the day in front of your door when you turned me down… I guess I started to believe you had no interest in marriage…to me." He paused and held her tighter, pushing stray, rebellious wisps of hair out of her face. "I'm glad I was incorrect." He had been afraid of that right up until yesterday when she had finally said "Yes."
"You were very wrong, William. But I do owe you an explanation." He shook his head in dissent but Julia pulled the covers tighter under her chin and snuggled even deeper against the heat of his muscular body. Under the covers she ran a hand along his waist and side and interlaced her legs with his. "It took me a very long time to recognize that I was responding to you the same way I reacted to my father-Oh don't protest! We all use our parental relationships as templates for social relationships, generally unconsciously." She went on about that for a while before catching herself. She sighed, realizing she was lecturing and that was another way to distance. If she was going to comment on William's veracity, she needed to offer her own.
"Ruby used to be after me all the time for getting defensive around Father-she accused me of being a bristle-brush and shrill, can you imagine?!" She looked at William as if he would protest the characterization but as he did not, just giving her a wide-eyed blank look, she felt herself blush, realizing that it was perhaps, at least occasionally still true. "Ruby, of course could always smile and bat her eyes at Father and then go ahead and sail on to do whatever she wanted. Father, rest his soul, never seemed to see through her." She grimaced. "I told you how my relationship with him was. I am sure I dealt with his rejection of me by defying him, and refusing to see him for years on end." She paused, and then said softly: "This was because I was hurt …" She sighed in exasperation, and then in sadness at his passing. "…And you can only be hurt if you love." She rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling. "I gave up trying to change him years ago…but I did not give up trying to protect myself from emotional pain by running away, covering it up and telling myself I was being logical. I guess I learned that from him too…" She found herself tearing up a little.
He kissed her cheek. "Julia—I did not help matters by accepting the distance. I thought I was respecting the future you had prepared for yourself, honoring your choices and independence. Instead you believed my interest in you waned. I give you my utmost assurance that it never did. I have always loved you…" He maneuvered her on her back so he could kiss her lips tenderly and deeply, but she suddenly resisted.
Emotions of a different sort were welling up for her. "Oh, William. Do you know that Ruby once said nearly the exact same thing to me about you? How extraordinary…"
"So I am not the only one with a good memory…?" he commented before bending his head to cover her mouth with his.
She surfaced from the kiss, her heartbeat quickening. "I meant what I said yesterday, William. I have told many other people that I love you, but so seldom have I told you- and combined with my behavior, well, no wonder it was difficult for you to figure out what I wanted—I denied it myself!" She felt her face flush. "Ruby once accused me of holding on to my feelings as if they were pearls I was afraid of dropping and losing." Julia paused and exhaled. "Damn Ruby and psychiatry!" She clenched her fists. "It was both painful and revealing when I trained in Vienna—I had to undergo my own analysis, and even with new insight I found it hard to change my habits of thought and actions." She let that last part out quickly, embarrassed at her own shortcoming. Months afterwards, she had finally told William her last words on the gallows were a declaration of love for him. He had wept briefly while nearly crushing her to him when he heard that. That conversation had breached an emotional wall between them that they were still sorting out.
William pulled back so he could lock his eyes with hers. "It is all right, Julia. I too tried to deny my feelings for you."
She returned the look. "I understand. More than Mrs Jones, I suppose?" she guessed.
He said automatically: "It is Mrs Broderick now. She remarried a few years ago- a widower with two daughters. Her son, Alwyn still drops by the Station House occasionally." He cleared his throat. "Julia…do you really want to talk about this…er, now?"
"William, one kind of connection requires the other…I am very secure at the present moment," she said, gesturing to their entwined position. "So, tell me about this. I sent you away and she was there and interested…"
"Yes, I suppose so. You know…it's funny. She also just knew, all on her own, I had feelings for you. I was honest with her when she asked me about them. She did not want to continue our courting under those circumstances, even though there was nothing between you and me then, and even though I had become fond of her and her son…" He let that admission hang.
Julia considered that for a moment. She had a stab of guilt. If only I had been as honest about my own feelings as William and Enid Jones. She noticed William offered no complaint, nothing but openness. He said, "I thought you wanted me to move on and that if I did you would be more comfortable with me."
"And I became angry and jealous, believing you were shallow and untrue to your word…and on more than one occassion... I am so sorry William, for ever doubting you!" Julia felt tears well and trail silently down her face. She moved to wipe them away, but William's hand interceded. She felt his compassion and concern and that he was taking his time choosing his words because it was difficult for him to explain how he felt.
He paused, and said softly: "Julia. Did you know that Tennyson's poem, In Memoriam A.H.H., was originally called "The Way of the Soul?" It took him seventeen years to craft his finished version—it is a meditation about hope after loss…" William started the recitation: "…I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most…"
Julia finished: "…'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
Julia felt her heart squeeze, her feelings all jumbled and sharp. William's arms involuntarily contracted and he had to work at relaxing them. Each was absorbed in their own thoughts for a moment.
"William, you continually surprise me…" she said, even though she knew he was a man of deep feelings and seemed able to harbor his inner conflicts, faith and scientific principles, behind a controlled façade. When did he ever have time to read poetry?
He smiled briefly at her quizzical expression and continued: "Julia. I have always believed in hope. I have never wanted our…friendship to be altered. I thought I could bury my feelings safely away, so as to be able to remain close to you, if not in an intimate way, in any way I could. I meant it when I said that sometimes unrequited love has to be enough. I was prepared, if I had to, to find a life for myself that included you, assuming you would have allowed…" William was becoming uncomfortable now with the direction of the talk, and had a troubled look on his face that Julia recognized.
She pulled him close. "William, I also meant it when I said life without you was worse than death—you do remember me telling you that, right?" He nodded and smiled. "I had the ridiculous idea our futures were incompatible, that you were not truthful when you told me all you wanted was to be with me. The truth is I judged you and that was terribly unfair. I know now I was afraid of the power of the attraction between us and feared that it would derail the professional, independent life I has fought so hard for." She felt ashamed. "Or worse, the passion would wither or you would reject me. How very, very wrong I was, about that and so many things." The lump in her throat caught, and she was not able to go on, so she laid her head on his chest, hearing his heart and feeling the movement as he breathed. It was so soothing, like being gently rocked, that her troubled feelings subsided somewhat.
William lay quietly for such a long time she thought for a second he might have fallen asleep. She turned her head and captured his face with her gaze. He was looking at her intently. The lashes around his lower eyelids held back small pools of liquid, other unnamed emotions suffusing his face. He did not try to diminish her statement, patronize her or offer pity. She found that to be most…wonderful.
"Julia," his low voice was tender, "we have our future ahead of us. I want you to know this is most important thing for me. The past is beyond our, or anyone's, remaking. I am content with that." He looked at the shadows painting the room, repositioned and stretched. "If I don't miss my guess, we have almost enough time to get cleaned up and dressed ahead of the carriage arriving here. We also have a couple chores to accomplish first before returning to Toronto, where I will place an engagement ring on your hand and I will announce to all and sundry that we are getting married!" He looked quite proud of this, she noticed.
She felt even more relieved than she did half an hour ago after ecstasy in his arms. Julia's heart fluttered. This man. This love.
This won't be their last conversation, but it was enough for now, and it will take some readjustment to the idea William has a more unusual kind of memory than of which she had been aware. "Yes, William," she said simply, thrilled with saying 'yes' again to him. "Yes we will. So…" she whipped the covers off them abruptly, "I will race you to the basin for another cold wash," and slipped out of his startled grasp and across the cold wooden floor in a flash, her long legs fairly dancing along. "And you fix my button… for propriety's sake…" she flung off behind her with a laugh, and a shower of hair pins.
William watched her retreat with pleasure, unable to suppress his own chuckle. Hope and faith are rewarded, he thought, and prayers are answered. While she was busy, he would sew her garment and he thought he might as well measure the table for future reference, once he unearthed his jacket again with his pocketed accouterments…
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Authors Note: Thank you to my correspondents, a Proboard post about Julia's brief petulance in S9:E2, and recent other stories for inspiration (and I'dBeDelighted—who also rescued my last story from posting-hell! I am forever grateful …) —I joked I have become an apologist for Julia – how do you explain her inexplicable behavior? The fans have not always liked her character—but William's character does, so…. Perhaps he is not as obtuse as she thinks he is… her own blind spots being what they are. More Conversations to come...any suggestions?