The Abduction of Julia

by Karen Hawkins

  Disbelief and humor mingled in his gaze. “Love is an illusion.” He glanced around the crowded street. “Speaking of which, where is my worthless cousin?”

  Any pity she may have felt evaporated in an instant. “Alec is not worthless.”

  Nick’s smile hardened. “Ah, yes. Thanks to your timely intervention, he is now worth a great deal.”

  “He’s rich as Croesus,” Julia said bluntly.

  His blue gaze narrowed. “As are you. Tell me, Cousin, did you plan to place yourself so conveniently in Alec’s way, or was it a mere twist of fate?”

  Julia recognized the spite behind the polished tones, but she supposed Nick was due. “Upset to have been cut out, are you? I don’t blame you. It’s a lot of money.”

  A faint crease appeared between Nick’s eyes, though his smile never ceased. “Touche my dear. May I ask what plans Alec has for his wealth?”

  Julia wished Nick would move from her path. She was to meet with the solicitor today to sign for the final transfer into the Society’s account. Her days with Lady Birlington were so full of morning visits, fittings, dancing lessons, and other nonsensical things that she’d had to move the Society’s weekly meeting to an unseemly hour of the morning. Everyone had grumped, but there had been no help for it.

  All they needed now was an idea as to what business to establish. Lord Kennybrook had suggested a sausage factory, but Julia couldn’t see the women undertaking such a hideous job. Unfortunately, no one else had any other suggestions and, for now, they were at a standstill.

  Julia caught Nick’s interested gaze and flushed. “Alec does whatever he wishes with his money.” Just as she did what she wished with hers.

  “Does he? I wonder.”

  Her hand tightened about her book. She’d like to slap it across Nick’s too-handsome face, leaving a lasting imprint of the title, The Evil Knight of Thebes, on his cheek. It was frustrating, but she had to be content with lifting her chin into the air and saying stiffly, “Alec’s affairs are none of your concern, Lord Bridgeton.”

  He chuckled. “No need to breathe fire, my dear. You took me by surprise with your little maneuver, stealing Alec away. You are to be congratulated on what was the neatest trick it has been my privilege to witness.” He shrugged at her surprised expression. “Why hide it? You knew well enough what your lovely but empty-headed cousin and I had planned, didn’t you?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Nick lifted his quizzing glass. “You continue to surprise me even now. Who would have thought such a stunning creature existed behind the colorless rags of the Frant Dragon?”

  Julia supposed he could be forgiven for saying that. After all, she was dressed in her favorite new pelisse. Of pearl gray merino, the heavy cloth was accented with rich ruby velvet trim. Her bonnet was one of the many Alec had chosen for her, wide brimmed and adorned with ostrich feathers dyed to match the edging of her pelisse. Despite her determination not to be affected by such fripperies, she had to admit it was thrilling to suddenly find oneself all the crack.

  She brushed a hand over the cloth. “To tell you the truth, I almost don’t recognize myself. It is shocking what clothes can do for a woman.”

  He regarded her with astonishment before breaking into a genuine laugh, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You are an unusual woman, Cousin Julia. I can see Alec won more than a mere fortune.” He pulled one of her hands into his and bowed. “Allow me to beg your forgiveness. Alec and I have been competing since we were born. It was a favorite pastime of our grandfather’s, and we seem determined to—”

  From somewhere down the street a blood-curdling yell sounded as a boy, covered with filthy rags, ran heedlessly into the path of a cart full of cabbage. Cursing loudly, the driver tried to avoid the small figure, pulling to one side at the last minute. The horses lunged, overturning the cart into the street.

  Mayhem ensued. Cabbages rolled across the narrow road, followed quickly by a horde of urchins who grabbed as many cabbages as they could before disappearing into a startling number of alleyways. The driver yelled and tried to chase down his missing produce, enlisting the help of every bystander he could.

  Forgotten, the barefoot urchin who had started the whole mess slipped through the crowd and swiftly maneuvered his way up the street. A bullish looking man gave a startled shout and charged after the urchin. Desperate, the boy dodged between two carts and ran right into Julia’s outstretched arms.

  “Lemme go! Damn ye to ’ell, lemme go! Pribble’ll kill me, ’e will!”

  “Easy, child,” Julia soothed. “I won’t let anyone harm you.” She wrapped both of her arms about the thin, wiry body and held on with all her might.

  Dank and odiferous, the child squirmed. “Ye ’as to lemme off! ’E’ll strap me if ’e catches me!”

  Ash, dirt and grime mired her new pelisse, but Julia only held tighter. Stench wafted from the trembling body and closed her throat. She loosened her hold enough to grasp the boy’s head between her hands and tilt the woefully dirty face to hers. His face was a mask of bloody bruises that made Julia’s heart burst into righteous fury.

  “No one will hurt you,” she said firmly. “Not without dealing with me, first.”

  Some amount of reassurance must have reached the child for he stopped struggling, though he regarded her with a suspicious scowl. “An’ what would ye do? Ye ain’t nofin’ but a girl.”

  “I would call the constable,” Julia replied promptly. “That or hit him with my reticule.”

  The child eyed her wispy-looking purse with a skeptical eye. But before he could reply, the bullish looking man stormed up.

  “There ye be, ye lil’ weasel.” Small ferret eyes set in a round, flat face shifted from the boy to Julia. The man’s gaze lingered on her fine dress before he reluctantly removed the greasy cap from his matted hair. “’Ere, now, missus. Thank ye fer catchin’ me boy. I’ll take care he don’t bother ye no more.” He reached for the child.

  The boy shrank from the grimy hand. “No! I won’t go wif’ ye, ye soddin’ prig!”

  Nick noticed the Frant Dragon didn’t even flinch at the obscenities. Instead, she soothed a hand across the filthy head and said bracingly, “There’s no need for that. Wars are not won with vile words, but with strong deeds.”

  The boy looked at her and blinked, utterly confused. “Eh?”

  Julia chuckled and cast a laughing glance up at Nick.

  For a second, he held his breath. Gone was the prim, sedate woman who exuded virtue and honor with every breath. In her place was a woman of passion and humor, alive with warmth. Her piquant face lit with shared amusement as her generous mouth curled in a beguiling smile. Most entrancing were the green eyes that brimmed with laughter behind the concealing spectacles. Nick could not have been more surprised if she’d dropped to her knees right then and there and serviced him.

  His gaze narrowed. There was more to the new Viscountess Hunterston than he’d expected. Much more.

  Julia straightened the boy’s torn shirt. “What’s your name?”

  The urchin regarded her with a suspicious stare.

  “Answer her la’ship,” said the sweep, scowling. “Or I’ll pummel it out o’ ye.”

  “There’s no need for such violence. He’s only a child.” Julia shot a hard glance at the man, then turned back to the boy, her face softening. “Won’t tell, eh? Very well, I’ll just make one up. How about Tommy?”

  The boy regarded her somberly and then shrugged. “Good as any, I s’ppose. I don’t haf no real name. Lest, not one I can ’member.”

  “Surely you were called something,” Julia said. When the child gave no reply, she turned to look at the sweep. “What is his name?”

  The sweep scratched his ear with a soot blackened hand. “His ma never tol’ me nofin’ but that he was a wisty worker.” A scowl lowered the man’s brow. “Course, that was jus’ her way o’ gettin’ rid o’ him.”

  “Most of the time, Pribble jus’ calls me ‘Muck,’” offered th
e boy with a black-toothed grin. “That, or fu—”

  “’Ere now,” exclaimed the sweep with a hasty glance at Julia. “Her la’ship is none too interested in what I calls ye, ye little bugger.”

  Nick watched the scene with growing amusement. Beside Julia’s radiance, the child resembled a thin, wasted gutter rat. Sandy lashes framed small, close-set eyes in a sharply featured face that boasted huge ears and a squat upturned nose. The child’s mouth sported a number of crooked black teeth and Nick had no doubt the little vermin’s breath was as foul as the rest of him.

  Yet to see the Frant Dragon with her arms about the thin body, her face warm with reassurance, one would believe the child a prince at the very least. She seemed not to notice the ugliness or grime. Instead, she gazed at the child with a gentle smile that belonged on a painting of a madonna.

  It was the most remarkable thing Nick had ever beheld.

  “Good God! What is that?” Resplendent in orange velvet, Lady Birlington stepped from the library and cleared a path through the crowd that had gathered.

  Julia rose to her feet, one hand firmly grasping the child’s. “Lady Birlington, I would like you to meet Muck. He will be going home with us.”

  “What?” exclaimed both the sweep and Lady Birlington at the same time.

  “Ye can’t do that!” said the sweep angrily. “’E’s mine!”

  Maddie stared down her hooked nose at the ragged child. “I won’t have that filthy child in my carriage, Julia. Ephram is sensitive to odors.”

  “Madam! This man is a sweep and he cruelly misuses the boy. Just look at the bruises on the child’s face. We must rescue him.”

  Maddie’s mouth pursed in a frown. “I daresay he fell down the steps or some such thing. But it does not matter. The child cannot go with us, and that is that. Come now—we have much to do.”

  It was obvious Lady Birlington expected immediate acquiescence. It was equally obvious Julia was not going to give one inch. Hugely amused, Nick noted that the crowd had grown. He couldn’t remember when he had been so diverted.

  “Julia, we must leave,” Maddie repeated sharply. “The boy is none of your concern.”

  Maddie’s censorship encouraged the sweep to new boldness. He grasped Muck’s bony arm with both hands and pulled. “Aye, listen to the ol’ crow. Muck is none o’ yer concern.”

  Maddie’s cane cracked on the sidewalk, her frosty blue gaze pinioning the hapless sweep. “What did you call me?”

  Nick stifled a laugh at how quickly the sweep let go of the boy’s arm. The full force of Mad Maddie’s gaze had made crown princes sweat beneath their corsets. He imagined that the force of that gaze on the sweep was nothing less than astounding.

  “B-beggin’ yer pardon, missus, but I paid a fiver fer the boy, and….” The thought of the lost five pounds seemed to imbue the sweep with courage, for he straightened his shoulders. “I’m not leavin’ wit’out ’im.”

  Maddie’s face reddened until it matched her wig. “You landless jackanapes! Is that the way you speak to your betters?” She turned her gaze to Edmund, who stood beside her, a stack of books under one arm, her wheezing pug under the other. “Edmund! Did you hear what this person called me?”

  Edmund swallowed and shot a nervous glance at the burly sweep. “Ah, yes, Aunt Maddie, but, ah…I don’t think he…he did pay for the child, so surely—”

  “Demme, that’s not the point,” Maddie said. She gestured with her cane. “That ignorant fool called me a crow! An old crow!”

  “That doesn’t matter!” Julia exclaimed, eyes flashing. “What matters is the child. If it bothers Ephram to sit in the carriage with Muck, then he and I will ride beside the coachman.”

  Nick lifted his quizzing glass to regard Julia. By God, she was magnificent. Here was Therese’s incredible beauty touched with something else, something warm and alive.

  Edmund’s weak chin dropped. “Dash it, Julia. You can’t ride with the coachman; bound to attract attention. People’d stare.”

  Maddie smacked the tip of her cane on the sidewalk. “Forget the child! That hurly-burly man called me an old crow and I demand satisfaction!”

  Her nephew gawked. “Surely you don’t expect me to call him out? You can’t have a duel with a chimney sweep.”

  A martial light entered Maddie’s brilliant blue eyes. “Why not?”

  “It’s not done, is all.” Edmund’s miserable gaze fell on Nick. “Bridgeton! For the love of God, tell her it isn’t done.”

  Nick was hard pressed not to laugh aloud, but he managed to assume an expression of serious consideration. “You are quite right, Edmund. It is never done.” Edmund relaxed and Nick continued relentlessly, “At least not in England. I believe, however, there is some precedence for such matters in Italy. Especially if the honor of a woman is concerned.”

  Edmund looked like a fish gasping for air.

  “There,” said Maddie with a satisfied nod. “I don’t usually hold with Italian manners, but that makes more sense than your namby-pamby English rules, Edmund. Now challenge the man. Julia and I have an appointment at eleven with Madame Rousard for her final fitting.”

  “B-but…I, ah, don’t have my gloves.” Edmund looked relieved. “I left them in the carriage.”

  “What do you need gloves for? Just challenge the man and be done with it. Julia and I haven’t got all day.”

  Edmund gulped, then whispered loudly, “But look at him! He’s filthy.”

  Maddie eyed the sweep, her gaze lingering on the dirt and mire.

  The sweep’s brows knit in confusion. “Pardon me, missus, but—”

  “Stay out of this,” Maddie said with an impatient gesture. “We have to decide what to do.”

  “Edmund may borrow my gloves,” said Nick smoothly, holding out his own.

  Maddie nodded her approval. “There! Very good of you, Bridgeton.”

  Edmund shot him a dark look and mumbled, “I can do without your help.”

  “Can you?” Nick replied with a gentle smile. “And here I was going to offer to be your second.”

  “Capital!” Maddie turned to her hapless nephew. “What are you waiting for?”

  Edmund sighed and deposited his burdens on the sidewalk. With a disgusted glare at Nick, he took the proffered glove and walked up to the bemused sweep.

  “Sorry, old chap,” said Edmund, offering an apologetic grimace. Holding the glove in one hand, he gently slapped the man across the cheek. “I challenge y—”

  The sweep punched Edmund in the nose, and the plump young man toppled head over heels into the street.

  “Lud!” Maddie exclaimed.

  Julia pressed Muck’s hand into Nick’s, stepped up to the sweep, and delivered her own punch. As quick as it was, Nick had to admit she had excellent form, her feet widely stationed, her whole arm behind the hit.

  The sweep, caught unaware, staggered backward, tripped over the curb, and fell heavily to the ground.

  “Gor’,” cooed the child. Nick looked down at Muck’s filthy hand and suppressed a shudder.

  Julia gathered her skirts and stepped across the loudly moaning sweep to where Edmund lay.

  “Did you see what that fellow did to me?” Edmund allowed Julia to help him up, blood flowing from his nose and onto his cravat.

  Maddie turned a furious gaze on the sweep, who was gingerly clambering to his feet. “You insolent cur! You have just attacked the only son of the Earl of Littleton! Your head will rest on the pikes at Tyburn for this!”

  “But he punched me first,” protested the sweep, his eyes wild.

  Julia handed a handkerchief to Edmund and retrieved Muck’s hand. “Perhaps we should send someone for the constable.” She glared at the sweep. “I’m sure he has broken some sort of law treating a child in such a way.”

  The sweep cast an uneasy glance at the gathering crowd. “I didn’t do nofin’ to ’im. I only wants what’s comin’ to me. That lil’ monkey is mine.”

  “No, he is not,” Maddie said in
a freezing voice. She looked down her prominent nose at the sweep. “You are not fit to associate with children.”

  “But who will I git to clean the chimneys?” asked the sweep with a cautious glance at Julia. “I paid fer ’im, I did, and I wants ’im back.”

  Nick couldn’t have planned a better, more disreputable scene than this, and among the crowd he saw several of society’s more rigid matrons, their faces avid with interest. Yet to his immense surprise, he heard himself say, “Perhaps I have the solution.”

  Every eye turned on him, but he was aware only of Julia. He withdrew his purse, took out a guinea, and tossed it at the sweep’s feet. “There—consider yourself compensated. The child now belongs to Lady Hunterston.”

  The man scrambled for the gold coin and clutched it with both grimy hands. “Thet’s more like it, guv’nor. I thank ye.” Turning to Julia, he offered a brown-toothed grin. “Ye’re welcome to the little bugger. ’E’s nofin’ but trouble.”

  “I’m sure he will continue that fine tradition,” agreed Nick pleasantly. “Now, leave before the watch arrives.”

  Glancing furtively over his shoulder, the man melted into the crowd. Nick didn’t notice, mesmerized by the luminous gaze Julia turned on him. Never had he seen such beautiful eyes.

  She grasped his hand and held it to her, her fingers warm against his. “That was quite the nicest thing I’ve ever seen. I have misjudged you, Lord Bridgeton.”

  Nick could have told her she had not been wrong, that he was as evil as rumored and worse. Instead, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. “It was nothing compared to your efforts, Cousin. I stand in awe.”

  She blushed and retrieved her hand. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

  “Demme,” exclaimed Maddie from where she was instructing Edmund on how to stem the flow of blood. “Amelia Cornwall just passed in her carriage. She was gawking like a mongoose, her eyes popping out of her head. It’ll be all over town within the hour.”

  Julia bit her lip, a worried pucker between her brows, though she said staunchly, “We had no choice. Someone had to rescue the child.”