Scarred Roses

Chapter 13 - The Funeral

Julia, Fifth born of the Knight Family

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  The skies were very grey. It suited the somber mood of the party standing around a six-foot-deep hole in the ground. Mrs Weatherly sniffled outrageously throughout the entire ceremony, her daughter holding her close. That Miss Olivia Lyman stood beside Lawrence, clinging onto his arm, though her eyes kept straying to his tall older brother. A far better catch, she thought.

Julia had refused to stand with the rest of her family, wandering off to sit on the hillside, away from all the gravestones. She was within their sights, but she kept her back to them, playing with the flowers by her feet.

Maxwell couldn't blame her feelings. None of the Knight siblings wanted to be there. The Lady Griffin was muttering to her husband about Julia's behaviour. Maxwell gave them a dark sideward glance, hoping to silence them, before turning back to the lowering coffin. The local pastor was muttering Latin, holding the Bible open in his hands. His stern, disinterested face looked down at the expensive cherrywood coffin making its way down to the bottom of the hole.

He suddenly went silent, looking at the family members. Lorraine, being the good, obedient girl that she was, stepped forward, taking dirt from the pile and tossing it down onto the coffin. Her face was void of emotion. She stepped back toward her siblings and sighed heavily. The pastor glanced at the little girl sitting far away from them and then back at the family. Lorraine glanced at her older siblings and then sighed heavily again. She made her way to her younger sister and then spoke to her. "Julia, will you join your family please?"

The little girl shook her head, her black curls flying around her head.

"Please, Julia," she implored, holding her hand out to her.

The girl just shook her head again.

Lorraine's shoulder slumped as she huffed, and she looked at her oldest brother and shook her head.

Maxwell turned back to the pastor and said, "Continue with the ceremony, Father."

He went on, as ordered, and within minutes the ceremony was over. The party walked back along the gravelled path to the house. Lorraine had resorted to dragging Julia most of the way as the girl refused to go anywhere. The little girl had grumpily complied after much struggle and growling from Lorraine and walked by her with her thin wrist held tightly in her sister's hand.

The whole party was escorted the drawing room, where many refreshments were set out. Lorraine let go of Julia as she entered the house. She didn't speak to her; she was too frustrated and embarrassed. Julia stood in the door of the drawing room, a spectacle to the rest of the funeral party and to the servants. She hung her head and then looked around shyly, her brow creased in barely contained anger.

Her eldest brother was walking up the staircase. He looked stern.

Her eldest sister was sipping tea while her husband conversed with Lord Tristan beside her. She looked forlorn.

Her other elder brother stood amongst a bunch of young ladies with another man. They were all giggling at something he was saying. He looked amused.

Her other elder sister stood with a cup of tea in her hand, staring up at the portrait of their mother that had been situated in the drawing room specifically for the occasion. It usually hung in the ballroom. She looked frustrated.

The old couple from earlier, in their bulking black finery, walked up to Julia, looking down at her with cynical expressions. They mumbled to each other, all the while eyeing her. "She is a pretty little thing. Her temper will not do though."