Fifteen

Julia wondered what Wraxall had said to the women to cause them to glare at her with such malice. She had been giving him warning looks from the moment Lady Sutcliffe waylaid him. The quartet of ladies were overly fond of gossip, and they were not overly concerned as to whether the gossip was true. The last thing she needed was Wraxall making the wrong comment about where she had been living or where he had been sleeping. She could no longer claim—to herself, at least—that she and Wraxall were not involved romantically, or at least physically, but she had no desire for that knowledge to become public.

She let out a relieved breath when he finally reached his friends—the big blond soldier and a handsome man who dressed better than she did.

“Is everything all right?” her father asked.

Julia quickly pasted on a smile. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“You seem tense.” His kind green eyes assessed her. “I worry about you, Juliana. That is why I want you to come home.”

“Papa, please. Not tonight.”

He sighed. Julia hoped the discussion was over, but her father spoke again, his eyes on something across the room. “I am sorry, you know.”

“Sorry?” she asked.

“For my neglect of you and Harriett after your mother died. I should have been there for you both, but instead I retreated into the only thing I knew—work.”

“I suppose we all must cope with tragedy in the best way we can. Harriett and I never doubted you loved us.”

He looked at her, his eyes bright. “Don’t you see? That was the exact cause of my anguish. I loved your mother. Not when I married her.” He waved a hand. “I barely knew her, but I grew to love her. When she died, it was so sudden. One day a fever and the next she was gone. Julia, I never told her.”

Julia blinked in shock. He had never told her mother how much he loved her? “I am certain she knew, Papa.”

“Are you? I am not. And not a day goes by that I don’t wish I had but one more hour, one more minute with Mary so I might be certain she knew how I felt.”

Julia took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “She knew, Papa. Harriett knew you loved her, and I know you love me.”

“I only want the best for you, my darling. I only want another chance to be the father I should have been. Will you please consider coming home?”

Julia wished she could tell him yes, but she could never go back to the life she’d lived as an earl’s daughter. The orphans needed her, especially now with Slag threatening them all. She could not leave them. “I will consider it, Papa,” she said, but the way he looked at her told her he knew she did not mean it.

“Lady Juliana?” A servant appeared at her elbow with a silver tray holding a slip of foolscap.

“Yes.”

“This came for you, my lady. A man delivered it and said it was urgent.”

Frowning, Julia lifted the paper off the tray and opened it. Her hand shook as soon as she saw the words.

I propose a trade. Your Billy for my blunt. The price is now two thousand pounds and a month in my bed.

Don’t keep me waiting or the boy suffers.

“What is it?” Neil asked. She could not stop staring at the letter, and she had not even noticed that he’d crossed the room to her or that everyone was taking their seats for the next performance.

“Billy,” she whispered, her throat feeling as though it was choked by sand.

Neil took the letter from her hand.

“What is wrong?” her father asked. “What is this about?”

Neil looked from the letter to Julia and then to the earl. “My lord, I must go, and I expect your daughter will want to come with me. There is a problem at the orphanage. May we have use of your coach?”

“Not this again.”

“My lord, I promise that after tonight, there will be no more urgent summons from the orphanage.”

Her father looked at Julia. “Will you make that same promise?”

She nodded, not at all certain it was a promise she could keep.

“If you don’t mind, my lord, take your seat and pretend nothing is amiss. I will escort Lady Juliana to the orphanage and send the coach back.”

“Very well.” He pointed a finger at Neil. “I am relying on you to settle this, Wraxall.”

Neil nodded. When her father turned away, he took Julia’s arm, squeezing it reassuringly. “Mostyn and Beaumont are here. I’ll bring them back with us. Make no mistake. I will bring Billy safely home.”

Julia had not trusted a man in years, but in that moment, she had never believed in anyone more.

* * *

Neil found the orphanage to be surprisingly quiet when he, Julia, and Rafe walked in. He had sent Mostyn ahead to Slag’s flash ken, and he had to deliver Julia to Mrs. Dunwitty before he would follow. Julia had not ceased folding and unfolding Slag’s missive all the way back from Mayfair. She hadn’t spoken. There was nothing to say. Even Rafe had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“This is…charming,” Rafe said, his tone of horror belying his words. “How very… Help me here, Wraxall.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes.”

Jackson rushed in. “Sir, I am so relieved you have returned. We cannot find Master Billy.”

“Slag has him,” Neil said without preamble. “How long has he been gone?”

“According to Master Michael, at last reckoning it had been one hundred and eight minutes. Sir, your cravat—”

Neil shoved his hand away. “The Ox and Bull is a flash ken, not a royal residence. No one will care what my neckcloth looks like.”

“As you say, sir.” But Jackson’s mouth drew down into a grimace.

Neil turned to Rafe. “Beaumont. I need you to stay here with Lady Juliana. If this is some sort of trick to leave the orphanage undefended, I will need you to protect the ladies and the children.”

“What?” Rafe and Juliana said in unison.

“I am not staying behind,” she said, stepping forward.

“Neil, you cannot possibly expect me to wait here. There are children and…and those hideous wall hangings,” Rafe said.

Neil ignored him. “Keep the doors and windows locked and the boys inside.” He cocked an ear, then looked at Jackson. “Where are the lads now?”

“In their rooms,” the valet answered.

“Why is it so quiet?”

“Mrs. Dunwitty has given them one hour of independent study. The little boys have fallen asleep—they are exhausted from their lessons—and the older boys are pretending to comply.”

Julia stepped between the men. “I am not staying behind. Slag has Billy. My Billy.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should take a tour of the dormitories and see if any of the children need help with his lesson.”

“Good idea, Jackson.” Neil gave the valet leave, but he hadn’t waited for permission. Rafe didn’t move. “Beaumont, don’t you have something else to do?”

“No. I want to go too.”

“You are staying and that is—”

Rafe raised a hand. “An order.” He sighed. “Lady Juliana, where are the children?”

She pointed to the stairs. “On the second floor, sir. That way.”

“Good.” Rafe walked in the opposite direction. When they were alone, Neil spoke low. “If Slag has Billy, I will bring him back.”

“And you think Slag will simply let you take him?”

Neil smiled. “Mostyn specializes in convincing men to do things they do not always want to do.”

“I have no doubt, but I will go with you.” She started for the door, but he stepped in front of her.

“No. You are staying here, where you will be safe.”

“Billy is not safe. He needs me.”

“The eleven boys here need you.”

She moved around him and lifted a dark-green cloak off the rack, lying the thin shawl she had worn to the musicale in its place. “Jackson, Mrs. Dunwitty, and your pretty friend are here. The boys are in good hands.” She fastened the cloak at her throat, and the green accented her dark-brown eyes. “I am ready.”

“No, you are not. If you come with me, you only endanger yourself and me. I’ll have to watch you instead of focusing on Slag, and that makes you a liability.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who said you need to take care of me? I can take care of myself.”

“You stay.”

She jerked her chin up. “I go.” Then she stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I thought we were on the same side. Did this afternoon mean nothing to you?”

He could see what it cost her to mention their liaison. Her cheeks flamed red, making a lovely contrast to her copper hair. Neil reached out and touched one of those rosy cheeks. “It meant everything to me. That is why I want to keep you safe.”

She moved out of his reach. “And if I wanted to be safe and locked up tightly, I would have stayed home in Mayfair. I will have my way in this. Either I go with you or I follow behind. I think it safer if we go together.”

Neil saw the truth of her words in the hard set of her mouth and the lift of her brows in a slight challenge. He had been fighting for days to control his temper, but she’d finally cut the last tether. “Bloody hell, woman! Do you want to die?” he yelled.

“Watch your language, sir.”

“I bloody hell won’t.” He grabbed her shoulders, not roughly, but firmly enough that she couldn’t shake him off. “I am trying to keep you safe.”

“And who do you think kept me safe before you came?” She pointed at her chest. “Me. I can take care of myself, and I won’t have you coming in here and taking over.”

This wasn’t worth a raging tirade. Neil released her and clenched his fists. “If you want to die, fine. Let’s go.”

“Fine, let’s go.” She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“After you,” he said, and she marched out the door. Neil had never wanted to throttle a woman so badly.