The Abduction of Julia

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The Abduction of Julia Page 11

by Karen Hawkins


  Julia chuckled. “I think it means you shouldn’t drink vinegar before bedtime. I certainly hope dreams are nothing more than simple imagination gone astray. I once dreamed I was a shoe someone had thrown away. An unpleasant dream, I assure you, and one I refuse to give any credence to whatsoever.”

  “I suppose you are right.” Mrs. Winston looked longingly at the cakes. “Dreams or no, I simply could not continue drinking that vile stuff.”

  “Good for you. You don’t need to thin down. Women should be proud of their figures, however they look,” Julia said bracingly.

  Mrs. Winston looked down at her pudgy body with a doubtful eye. “Do you really think so?”

  “Of course.” Julia patted the housekeeper’s hand. “You look lovely.”

  The housekeeper beamed. “I hope Master Alec appreciates what a gem he’s found.”

  Julia placed a pastry on a plate and handed it to the housekeeper. “We had a bit of a tiff this morning.”

  Mrs. Winston clicked her tongue. “Being difficult, is he? Well, give him some time. Master Alec can be a difficult man, but you’re sure to bring him ’round.” Mrs. Winston poured tea into a cup and handed it to Julia. “He has a way of sneaking into your heart just when you least expect it.”

  As if she didn’t already know that. She sipped her tea. “Tell me, Mrs. Winston, does Alec look like his mother?”

  “Oh, yes. Miss Anna was a beautiful child and the old lord doted on her. It nigh broke his heart when she ran off with her Scotsman.”

  It was inappropriate to gossip with the servants. Julia also knew she should not shamelessly encourage them to tell her every nuance of Alec’s life. But some inner voice chided her for such silly, prudish thoughts. If she wished to help her wayward husband find the error of his wicked ways, she needed all the ammunition she could get. “If the old earl was fond of his daughter, you would think he’d allow her to marry wherever her heart led.”

  “Ah, but the old lord thought Miss Anna’s beau was a brazen fortune-hunter, and he demanded that she have no more to do with the poor lad.” The housekeeper sighed. “Miss Anna would not listen. She declared that it was to be her Scotsman or no one.”

  “Now I see where Alec gets his stubbornness.”

  “All of them, as stubborn as they can hold together. The old lord was livid when Miss Anna refused to heed him and he threatened to lock her in her room.”

  “What a silly thing to do! I’ve often noted that men, when faced with a situation they cannot control, overreact and thunder orders as if they were field marshals in some huge battle.”

  “That is exactly what happened. The old lord ranted and raved like a madman.” Mrs. Winston took a sip of tea. “To give him credit, he had Miss Anna’s best interests at heart. He was just a bit overprotective.”

  “Sole parents usually are.”

  “La, yes. He alternately coddled and bullied her. As a result, Miss Anna was more given to her feelings than most.”

  Julia refilled the housekeeper’s empty cup. “I’ve no sensibilities at all. One of my failings, I’ve been told.”

  “That’s a whisker and no doubt about it,” declared Mrs. Winston stoutly. “I think you possess a very sensitive nature.”

  “Oh, no. My father used to say I was all bones and no blood.” Julia chuckled. “He was right, you know. I couldn’t work up a fit of vapors if I tried. I cry only if I’m tired.” She looked at her cup and added, “Or drunk.”

  The housekeeper started. “Drunk?”

  “Rum punch. Deadly stuff, but quite tasty.”

  Mrs. Winston laughed uncertainly. “La, my lady, how you do go on! I’m sure you are as sensitive as any lady should be.” The housekeeper absently helped herself to another cream cake. “Just like Miss Anna. When the old earl brought her back from Scotland after her Scotsman died, she moped about the house for months, draped in black and playing the most dismal music on the pianoforte.”

  “That must have been difficult to stand. I can’t abide dark music, myself.” Julia scooted the teapot under the housekeeper’s searching hand.

  “Those were sad days, they were. Miss Anna couldn’t look at Master Alec without crying, saying he had his father’s eyes. His lordship was an active mite even then, and he had no time for such silliness as tears. It wasn’t long before he would take to running the opposite way whenever he happened to see his mother coming.”

  Julia nodded. It confirmed her notions exactly; Alec was not a man to welcome clinging affections. She would do well to keep that thought firmly in mind.

  The housekeeper dabbed at a spot of cream on her chin. “To make matters worse, the old master got the notion that nothing but a season in London would help Miss Anna, so he packed her and the babe into a carriage and off they went.”

  Julia thought of all the parties and routs she had attended. Being relegated to the corner of the room with the other chaperones had at least one advantage. One could dispassionately observe the proceedings with very few distractions. “The bustle of the season would not have answered a grieving heart.”

  “Isn’t that the truth!” declared Mrs. Winston around a mouthful of pastry. She swallowed noisily. “Miss Anna was more miserable than ever. What the old lord didn’t know was that rumors had already started circulating. People knew she had run away to Scotland with her handsome young man and returned with a babe.” The housekeeper’s broad face puckered in a scowl. “People said Master Alec was naught but a by-blow of Miss Anna’s degenerate connection with a groom.”

  Julia replaced her cup in the saucer with a smart snap. “People can be such idiots! I hope the old earl put a speedy end to such nonsense.”

  “No one dared tell him. But Miss Anna found out and seemed bent on proving the rumors true. She became wilder and wilder, slipping away with the most ineligible men and staying out past dawn. It all happened so fast that the old lord was at a loss. When he finally realized what was being said, he was so furious he packed up Miss Anna and Master Alec and left town.”

  “Without setting things straight?”

  The housekeeper took another bite of cake. “There is no halting wagging tongues, my lady. Within the month, Miss Anna fell ill and died. The doctor said it was measles, but I think her heart was broken.”

  Julia didn’t bother to ask how measles could be mistaken for a broken heart.

  Mrs. Winston sighed. “Poor Master Alec has had to bear his mother’s shame. And children can be the cruelest of all. They called him names and made remarks about his parentage—all sorts of evil things. Poor Master Alec was sent home from school I don’t know how many times for fighting.”

  “I can imagine.” Julia rubbed her bottom lip, where she could still feel the pressure of his kiss. “The poor man,” she murmured. Catching Mrs. Winston’s bright gaze, she hurriedly added, “What a burden for a child. It’s a good thing he no longer has to deal with such foolishness.”

  “Oh, but he does. No one would have thought it, but those nasty rumors seem to follow him. It’s almost as if someone stirs those stories every so often so no one will forget them. And Master Alec has just enough of Miss Anna in him to prove them all true.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Julia said stoutly. “Why should he make a cake of himself, trying to win the approval of a bunch of old rattles with nothing better to do than sit around and repeat a lot of nonsense?”

  Twin dimples appeared in Mrs. Winston’s chubby cheeks. “Master Alec needs someone like you, bless me if he doesn’t.”

  “I’ll do my best,” said Julia. No wonder he seemed determined to offend polite society with his debauched actions.

  The mantel clock gently chimed the hour. “La! Will you look at the time?” The housekeeper scrambled to her feet. “I had best be about my duties.”

  “Of course.” Julia replaced her cup on the tray and stood. “I believe I will be going out as well.” If she hurried, there would be just enough time to visit Vicar Ashton.

  Mrs. Winston gathered the tray
. “Very well, my lady. I’ll have Johnston bring the carriage ’round.”

  Julia shook her head. Alec had been harmed enough by wagging tongues. She would be discreet with her work and none would be the wiser. “I don’t need the coach. I’ll call a hack.”

  “Lud! It won’t do for you to be riding about town in a hack. Whatever will Master Alec say?”

  “I’ll be back before he even misses me. I just need to stop by my aunt’s house and retrieve my belongings.” That much was true. She possessed remarkably few things and it would take only a minute to pack them into a bandbox.

  Mrs. Winston’s plump face folded in doubt. “I still think you should let me call Johnston. But I suppose you’ll be all right.” She crossed to the door, stopping just long enough to beam at the empty pastry plate. “At least I know you won’t be leaving hungry.”

  Chapter 10

  Julia pulled out her last remaining pence and placed them in the hackney driver’s outstretched hand. The richest woman in England, indeed.

  The man peered at the coins, his lip curling over black teeth. “’Tain’t enough.”

  “It’s a reasonable amount, considering the distance you traveled.” She fought to keep her shoulders from slumping. It had been a long, arduous day and she longed for the comfort of a bed.

  “I come all the way down Fenders’ Road, I did—”

  “And went out of your way to go that route, too. Chattingham Street is closer and you passed right by it without so much as slowing.” She pulled the drawstring on her reticule and looped the ends over her arm.

  The driver’s dirt-streaked face registered resignation as he eyed her threadbare purse. “I’ll be damned if I ever help a nabob acrost town agin.”

  “A great loss to us all.” Julia watched the lumbering hack wheel down the road before turning to her aunt’s house and hurrying up the walk. The setting sun cast long shadows across the fashionable street, covering the neat hedgerows and walkways with a touch of spring chill.

  The visit to Vicar Ashton had taken much longer than she’d intended. She had announced their unexpected largesse from an “anonymous donor” and her idea to sponsor their own industry. She should never have succumbed to the vicar’s invitation for a cup of tea, but he had been so excited she hadn’t the heart to refuse.

  Once Julia realized how late it was, she’d hailed the first hackney available and ordered it to her aunt’s. She still had to gather the few things she deemed precious and return to Hunterston House before anyone missed her.

  Even through her tired haze, excitement buoyed her. There was so much to do, so many good works to achieve. The vicar was calling an emergency meeting of the Society to discuss the new funding. They were dear old men, with generous hearts and a sincere commitment to their important work. Julia was glad none of them chose to move within the social circles their birth and position allowed, or her plans for anonymity would have surely failed.

  Lord Kennybrook, an active Member of Parliament, eschewed society entirely as a frivolous waste of time. And Mr. Tumbolton, a noted theoretician who had published several books on metaphysical philosophy, rarely left his home on High Street except to attend their meetings.

  The only worry she had was Lord Burton. A noted philanthropist, he refused to attend any function that did not promote one of his many causes. But his new wife was another matter. The daughter of a minor noble, Lady Burton was an active social climber.

  But Julia had met the hard-eyed woman only once and had been peremptorily ignored, so there was little chance Lady Burton would recognize her if they met at some function. Or so Julia hoped.

  “You can cross that bridge when you have to,” she mumbled, reaching the front door and thumping the brass knocker. The oak panel swung open almost immediately.

  The gray-haired butler bowed. “My lady. Pray come in.”

  Julia stepped into the foyer. “Good evening, Roberts. How are you?” When she had last left the house, she’d been a poor relation. Now she returned a viscountess, wealthy beyond her wildest dreams. It should have been exhilarating, but all Julia could dredge up was mild embarrassment, as if she’d overdressed for a party.

  The butler shut the door behind her, his impassive face softening slightly. “I am fine, Lady Hunterston. I trust you are the same?”

  At the mention of her title, Julia grimaced. She had hoped to break the news to Therese herself. “I’m as well as can be expected. I suppose the household is in an uproar.”

  A twinkle appeared in the butler’s brown gaze. “One could say that, my lady. Your aunt has taken to her bed with a megrim, while Lady Therese has just now received Lord Hunterston in the parlor. Shall I take your pelisse?”

  Alec was here. Julia swallowed, wondering if she should have left him a note on her departure. Since she had thought to only be gone an hour or so, she had not bothered. She caught the butler’s lifted brows and shook her head. “No, thank you, Roberts. I don’t expect to stay long.”

  “Of course.” He led her through the wide hallway to the parlor door. There, he hesitated. “If I might be so bold as to congratulate you on your new station, my lady. It could not have happened to a kinder, more worthy person.”

  Tears filled her eyes, surprising them both. Darn her tired brain. She dug into her reticule and produced her handkerchief, hastily wiping her eyes. “Pray do not say such kind things to me. I’ve had a long day and I’m in danger of turning into a watering pot.”

  His mouth twitched. “You are not a watering pot, madam. You are, as ever, our kind and deserving Lady Julia.”

  She chuckled and sniffed. “I don’t know what I am, lately. But thank you anyway. I do hope you will come and visit.”

  “I hardly think that would be proper,” the butler said in a tone of gentle reproof.

  Julia folded the handkerchief into a neat square. “Proper? What could be more proper than visiting an old friend?”

  He smiled. “I will announce you, madam.” Waiting until she had tucked her handkerchief away, he opened the door and said, with the same reverential air with which he would have announced the crown prince, “Lady Hunterston.”

  Julia forced herself not to look at Alec, though it was her first impulse. Vibrantly aware of his dark presence by the settee, she forced her unruly gaze to Therese. Her cousin leaned against the pianoforte and Julia silently congratulated her on contriving such an artful pose. The dark gleaming wood showed her pale coloring to advantage, as well as serving as an entrancing background for her elegant blue silk gown.

  Despite Julia’s intentions, her disobedient attention slid to her husband. Dressed in formal evening clothes, he was, as always, heart-wrenchingly handsome. A quiver of something other than hunger rose in her very empty stomach.

  Therese held out her hands and glided across the room. Small, fair, and graceful, she looked like a picture-book fairy. “Julia! How glad I am to see you!”

  Bemused, Julia allowed her cousin to embrace her. “Oh, yes. I’m very happy to see you, too.” The words rang flatly beside Therese’s gushing acclaim. In the three years she had resided with her cousin, this was the first sign of affection she had ever received.

  The china-blue eyes glistened. “Julia, I know I have been unfair to you in the past…Alec has made me see…I only hope you will forgive me.” Golden curls framed Therese’s perfect face as a lone crystal tear slid down her cheek. No angel could have appeared more penitent.

  To Alec’s extreme irritation, his wife did not look at all put out by such an obvious gammon. Instead, she patted Therese’s shoulder awkwardly and said, “There, there. No need to hug me quite so tightly. I’m not angry with you at all.”

  “Oh, Julia! You are so kind! And after all the times I slighted you.”

  Another tear rolled down Therese’s face and Alec felt an impulse to toss the chit headfirst out the window—lace, lies, and all.

  Red faced, Julia mumbled, “Oh, no! You and Aunt Lydia must visit soon.”

  Therese pulled back
from the embrace, dabbing at her eyes with a scrap of lace that had miraculously appeared in her hand. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  “Oh, I think we can guess,” said Alec caustically, wondering what the little minx was up to now. It was amazing that he had ever thought Therese a beautiful woman. Though there was no doubt her form met the brief requirements of beauty, it was now painfully obvious her eyes were somewhat narrow-set. Furthermore, he decided critically, her small, cruel mouth lacked Julia’s sensuality.

  As if reading his thoughts, Julia shot him a hard stare before returning her attention to her cousin. “You will always be welcome at Hunterston House.”

  “You are such a dear!”

  Alec saw the triumph flit through the blue eyes. Even for Therese, this was a bit much. Not that he was surprised she wanted to continue her connection with Julia; who wouldn’t? Julia now had more money than any sane person could rightfully spend. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that there was more to this little charade than met the eye.

  He crossed to the door. “While I hate to interrupt such a charming scene, Julia and I need to return home.”

  “Alec!” Therese reproached, “we’ve barely had time to speak. I want to hear about the wedding.” She cast a sly glance at him from under her lashes. “Mother and I are Julia’s only relatives. We want to know all the details of the wedding.”

  That made him pause. The quicker he removed Julia from her cousin’s poisonous clutches, the better. “Come, Julia. Mrs. Winston is holding supper.”

  Julia flushed. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I’m not used to having anyone wait on me.” Her wide mouth hinted at some strong emotion, and he thought he detected the shimmer of tears behind her spectacles.

  Alec’s irritation evaporated instantly. The last few days had been hell. He took her hand in his. “Come. Home awaits.”

 

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