Free Mrs. Grant and Madame Jule by Jennifer Chiaverini

stood witness as Gabriel and Jule spoke the vows that made them husband and wife.
    Jule had never been happier, but her joy was diminished by her regret that she had let fear and uncertainty restrain her from marrying Gabriel sooner—and by hot, raw anger for the old master and missus and even Julia for engendering that crippling doubt.
    “Don’t dwell on anger or regret another day more,” Gabriel said, soothing her with kisses on her cheeks, her brow, her lips. “All that matters is that we’re married now.”
    She spent the night in his arms, sharing his pallet in the carriage house, but she woke before dawn and stole quietly back into the house before the Dents noticed her absence. If Julia had not been away on her wedding trip, Jule never could have managed it.
    In the weeks that followed, she passed the long days waiting on Nell and Emma and mixing up concoctions for the household—a hair tonic for the missus one day, a salve to soothe burns for Annie and Poppy the next.
    Throughout each day, she welcomed every chance glimpse of her beloved husband, and night after night, she found comfort and tenderness in his embrace.
    •   •   •
    In mid-October, with the end of Ulys’s furlough approaching, he and Julia bade farewell to his family and returned to St. Louis. The journey home should have been as delightful as their first excursion upon the rivers, but with each passing day Julia felt more sharply the pain of impending loss.
    On the eve of their departure to rejoin Ulys’s regiment in Detroit, Julia and Ulys sat alone in the Dent drawing room, Julia wiping her eyes after another bout with tears, Ulys trying to comfort her. “For four years I’ve looked forward to spending all of our days together,” he said, managing a wan smile, “and yet, after only two months, you’re full of regret.”
    “I’ll never regret marrying you,” Julia protested, only to fall silent as her father strode into the room.
    “Grant,” Papa said gruffly, “I have a solution to this quandary. You join your regiment and leave Julia here at home. You can visit her whenever you get a leave of absence.”
    “That would be only once or twice a year.” Ulys turned a worried, appraising glance upon Julia. “But I’ll do whatever’s best for Julia.”
    Papa shook his head, frowning. “I always knew Julia wasn’t suited to be an army wife, but I’m sorry to be proven right.”
    Ulys sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Is that what you want, Julia?” he asked gently. “Would you like to stay with your father while I go on alone?”
    “No, no, no,” said Julia, distressed. “If you’re going—and you must—I’ll go with you. I couldn’t bear to be left behind.”
    And so she dried her tears and told Papa that her place was with her husband.
    When Papa nodded and withdrew, Ulys interlaced his fingers through Julia’s and held her gaze steadily. “We’re never to be parted,” he said firmly. “Agreed?”
    “Agreed,” Julia replied. They had lived apart too much already. “Never again will we be separated. Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

Chapter Four
    N OVEMBER 1848–A UGUST 1854
    I n the first few weeks after the newlyweds departed, Jule felt an exhilarating rush of emotion she supposed was something like freedom. While the Dents anxiously awaited the mails and read bits of Julia’s precious letters aloud to one another, news from far-off places called Sackets Harbor and Lake Ontario and Madison Barracks, Jule felt like a colt unharnessed, still confined within corral fences but able to run and buck and kick as she pleased.
    “Don’t let them catch you idle,” Annie warned her one afternoon when she came upon Jule in the kitchen garden, picking herbs.
    “Who’s idle?” protested Jule, indicating her basket. “The herb lady taught me how to brew up a potion to ease sunburn.” A few days before, young Miss Emma had neglected to wear her bonnet on a picnic with friends, and