A light came into Sophia’s eyes. Instantly Juliana went on alert.
“Rumor has it you stowed away on Morgan’s ship,” she said.
“How do you know that?”
“Servants talk, I listen.”
Juliana bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She liked Sophia. The girl had backbone and didn’t seem concerned about rules and such. Maybe, just maybe, Juliana found an ally.
“Sophia, do you know how to sneak out of this house without being seen?”
Sophia stilled and the light inside her dimmed. “I might,” she said slowly.
“I need to go somewhere, but Isabelle insists I can’t go alone.”
“Where do you need to go?”
“The London Gazette. Could you take me without alerting the rest of the household?”
“I could.” A slow smile spread across the girl’s face. “If you tell me about stowing away on the ship.”
Juliana tapped her chin and seemed to think about it, although she’d already reached a decision. She needed a job and Sophia Parker seemed to be the only one willing to help.
“Deal. I’ll tell you on the way to the Gazette.”
A triumphant smile crossed Sophia’s face and for a moment Juliana wondered if she’d made a deal with the devil.
Juliana slipped out the back entrance of the Parker house with a last cautious look over her shoulder. She felt like she was sixteen and sneaking out to meet Zach.
Sophia was waiting for her, all bundled energy, her smile bright, her eyes dancing. She was wearing a different dress than the one she’d had on an hour ago when Juliana asked for her help. This one was a little plainer with a lot less lace. A wide-brimmed matching hat shielded most of Sophia’s face.
Sophia wound her arm in Juliana’s and they set off. “We will walk,” she said. “If we request a carriage the entire house will know we’re leaving and I suspect you want our trip to remain between the two of us.”
“Yes, thank you. But I don’t want you to get into trouble for helping me.”
Sophia waved a hand in the air and laughed. “Pshaw. I’m always in trouble for one thing or another. This is a minor infraction, I assure you.”
Juliana smiled and just like that her day took a turn. She was actually doing something, taking steps to secure her independence. The feeling was liberating and for the first time since leaving the Adam she felt hope.
As they walked, she told Sophia of stowing away on Morgan’s ship, how Morgan found her in the fire and had her flogged, thinking she was spying for his enemy.
“Does he still think so?” Sophia asked. “Of course he doesn’t,” she said, answering her own question. “You wouldn’t be staying with Isabelle and Reed if Morgan thought you were his enemy. What changed his mind?”
Juliana hesitated. “I don’t know.” He just suddenly stopped thinking of her as the enemy. Until now it hadn’t occurred to her to wonder why.
“He probably took one look at your beauty and decided you can’t possibly be a spy.” Sophia snorted in disgust. “Just like a man. They believe a beautiful woman has no mind.”
They reached the front doors to the Gazette and stopped.
“Why are we here?” Sophia asked, staring up at the imposing stone building.
“Because I need a job.”
Sophia’s head snapped around. “Pardon?”
“I need a job. I need to earn money so I can live on my own and not have to rely on Lord and Lady Parker’s generosity.”
Juliana’s gaze wandered over the congested street corner where elegant women entered and exited shops. It could have been a scene in any busy city except horses pulled carriages and women were dressed in gowns accompanied by footmen toting their purchases.
“You want to engage in…labor?” Sophia whispered the last word.
“Where I come from, Sophia, a woman earns her own way. She doesn’t have to rely on a man to clothe her and put a roof over her head. I’ve never relied on anyone but myself. I want to do this.” She shook her head. “No, I need to do this.” But did she have the courage to do this? She had to if she wanted to retain her pride and self-respect. No way would she rely on the Parkers’ goodwill forever.
Sophia pulled Juliana closer to the building, away from the foot traffic. She bent her head closer and whispered, “Is this wise, Juliana? Have you thought about this? What will happen if news that Isabelle’s cousin is looking for a…a job…gets back to the Earl?”
The Earl was Reed’s older brother and they concocted a story that Juliana was Isabelle’s cousin from Barbados.
“Would that be a bad thing?” she asked.
Sophia nodded solemnly. “Appearance is everything in the world of nobility. A wrong move by anyone in the family can impact others. Being from Barbados, maybe you’re not aware?” Sophia let the last sentence drift off into a question, kindly giving Juliana an out. Of course she realized what she was about to do was irregular but she assumed everyone would look at her as slightly odd. She never guessed it would affect the very people who had taken in a stranger and claimed her as one of their own. Yet what else was she supposed to do? Live off their kindness forever?
“I have to do this, Sophia. I can’t rely on your brother’s hospitality the rest of my life.”
Sophia’s hand tightened on Juliana’s elbow. “You could marry. We’ll find a nice husband for you.”
Juliana wanted to laugh except Sophia’s expression was completely serious. This was what aristocratic women did. They married—for money, for protection, for food and clothes. Her feminist self rebelled at such a notion—at her marrying for such reasons.
“No.” There was only one man she’d even consider marrying and he’d cut her out of his life.
Sophia’s hand dropped away and she straightened her shoulders. “I have always secretly thought women could be much more but never dared say it aloud. If this is what you want, then I will support you.”
“Are you sure, Sophia? You can return home if you like, pretend you never brought me here. If it will make life easier for you, I would understand.”
Sophia shook her head resolutely. “I will support you.”
They entered the foot traffic on the sidewalk and headed toward the doors of the Gazette. “I would like to travel to your home and meet these women who support themselves,” Sophia said.
Juliana’s steps faltered. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.” And maybe even impossible for her.
People jostled past—women strolling as they chatted, men in hats with walking sticks. Horses snorted and young working girls rushed into stopped traffic to offer their wares. The twenty-first century indeed seemed like an impossibility when faced with all of this.
They entered the imposing front doors and Juliana had to wipe her sweating hands on her skirts. She’d interviewed with some of the top newspapers in her country, had worked for the Kansas City Star and was about to move to the Chicago Sun before she found herself here. She could do this.
A man sat at a desk, guarding the doors to the inner sanctum. Sophia and Juliana crossed the large atrium, their skirts rustling in the hushed silence as the man peered at them through thick glasses.
“May I help you, ladies?” his smile was ingratiating, kind, and it helped soothe Juliana’s nerves.
Sophia hung back as Juliana stepped forward. “I’d like to speak to someone about a job.” She fought the urge to twist her fingers into her skirts. This would be much better if she were in her business suit—in the twenty-first century.
The man frowned. “You are inquiring about a position?”
“Yes.”
“We have no openings for housekeepers or maids, madam.” He sniffed and shuffled a few papers on his desk before turning his attention to them, effectively dismissing her.
“I’m not interested in a housekeeper or maid position. I’m interested in a position as a writer.”
His head shot up and his eyes narrowed behind his lenses. “What nonsense
is this?”
Behind her, Juliana heard Sophia take a step back. “No nonsense, sir. I’m an exceptional writer.”
He snorted and tapped his papers together. “Madam, this is a serious business. We’ve no time for the whims of a woman. I suggest you return to your husband and not tell him of this…this escapade.”
Juliana stood rigid. Return to her husband?
Sophia grasped Juliana’s elbow and whispered in her ear, “We should go, Juliana.”
Juliana longed to shake off Sophia’s hand and give this sanctimonious jerk a piece of her mind. Only the reminder that this wasn’t her time and place and that she could easily destroy the reputation of the Parkers held her back. She turned on her heel and practically ran Sophia over as she left the building.
Juliana was quiet on the way home, alternately furious at the man’s archaic beliefs and despondent she’d be in debt to Isabelle and Reed for the rest of her life if she didn’t come up with something. She knew it wouldn’t be easy; she just hadn’t realized it would be impossible.
It’s one place, Juliana. There are many more. But there weren’t. Not really. No one would hire a woman to do what they considered men’s work.
Fighting unexpected tears, Juliana yanked open the front door of the Parkers’ townhouse. Penworth, the butler, almost fell through the opening. Without her usual friendly greeting, she ascended the stairs to her bedchamber, Sophia following along silently.
Once inside, Sophia sat on her bed and Juliana sat next to her. “What am I going to do, Sophia?” She fell on her back and rolled to her side to face her newfound friend.
Sophia fell back too and contemplated the ceiling. “Well,” she said. “I’ve already said I would find a husband for you. Although you are getting a bit long in the tooth.”
Juliana knew the girl was baiting her, trying to coax a smile from her, but she didn’t feel much like smiling. Everywhere she turned, everything she did was a learning experience and she was damned tired of it. She didn’t want to live in this hellish city or in this hellish time. She wanted her car, central heating, microwave dinners and comfortable sweatpants. She blinked, fighting her tears of frustration, loneliness and fear.
“I need to find a husband as well,” Sophia said on a sigh. “That’s what the Earl says. I’m one and twenty, Juliana. My time is running out and the Earl’s patience with it. Most of my friends have been married for years and have at least one child. Soon I won’t be considered a good match. On the shelf, as they say. But I don’t want to marry yet.”
Juliana had to blink harder to fight the tears that didn’t want to stop. If Sophia wasn’t a good catch, with her beauty and obvious wealth, what would Juliana be? Not only couldn’t she find decent employment, she was over-the-hill and unmarriageable. If only Morgan let her stay on his ship. The Adam was the only place that felt like home and Morgan the only one she didn’t feel truly lonely around. On the ship, she could be herself and the men accepted her. With Morgan… She sat up so suddenly Sophia almost rolled off the bed. “Hey, Sophia?”
“What?”
“What time is this ball tonight?”
Sophia’s blue eyes turned speculative. “Why?”
Juliana jumped up and held her hand out to her friend and ally. “Let’s figure out what I’m going to wear.”
Chapter Sixteen
He wasn’t here.
Juliana stood on her toes and tried to see through the huge crowd. There was no way to tell with the hundreds of people crowding the ballroom but gut instinct, one she trusted when it came to Morgan, told her he wasn’t here.
She dropped back on her heels and took a sip of wine. The melting wax of hundreds of candles and the press of overheated bodies made it unbearably hot. The windows had been thrown open, but Juliana was across the ballroom and the faint breeze didn’t reach her.
At first, she’d been awed by the sheer amount of people enclosed in such a small space. The women wore brightly colored gowns, their necklines—or bodices as she learned they were called—cut shockingly low, even for Juliana who lived through thong bikinis and dresses that barely skimmed butts. She resisted the urge to yank her bodice higher. Even she was revealing more cleavage than she liked in Isabelle’s altered gown. A softly feminine gown of royal blue.
Per the plan, she was introduced as Isabelle’s cousin from Barbados and caught a few speculative looks from several older men. She couldn’t shake the feeling that quite possibly one of those men could become her husband if she didn’t figure out how she was going to support herself.
She’d suffered through a last-minute gown fitting with the hope that Morgan would be here. She didn’t know what she’d say to him besides, quite possibly, begging to let her sail with him.
Ah, hell, she needed to admit it. She wanted to be with Morgan again.
She took another sip of wine and fought the onset of claustrophobia. She needed to get out, she needed fresh air, but the closest thing to escape was an open window clear across the crowded room.
Except she knew the rules. Shocked Juliana had never attended a ball before, Sophia took it upon herself to educate her in The Rules. A woman didn’t go for fresh air alone, and if she went with a gentleman they were to spend no more than five minutes outside and always within sight of the doors. She was not to go wandering on her own or with a gentleman through the garden. She was not to dance more than twice with a gentleman. She was not to approach a gentleman and introduce herself.
Isabelle appeared at her side. “I loathe these things,” she said with a grimace.
“It is awfully hot in here and there are so many people.”
Isabelle nodded and tugged at her gloves. Juliana commiserated, her own hands sweating in the tight-fitting gloves. Another rule she’d learned. Men and women wore gloves so their skin wouldn’t touch. Too risqué apparently, yet the bodices that nearly revealed women’s nipples weren’t.
“I saw you looking around the ballroom,” Isabelle said. “Morgan won’t attend tonight. He despises these things more than I.”
“Oh.” Had she been that transparent? “He told me he would contact me after he dropped anchor.” She hated the wistfulness in her voice and the fact Isabelle was aware of her desperate need to see him one more time.
“I’m sorry,” Isabelle said. “For what it’s worth I think you are the perfect match for Morgan. But Morgan—”
“Doesn’t want a relationship.” Juliana sighed. “I know.”
Isabelle touched Juliana’s arm. “Maybe someday he’ll realize what he’s giving up by letting you go.”
“By then it might be too late. If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.” Juliana walked away, embarrassed Isabelle had seen through her. She felt like a fish out of water, not of this time, bumbling through, trying to make the best of it. Even when her mother was at her disgusting worse, Juliana always believed that as long as she survived the present she would make it to the future. Now, she didn’t even have that comfort. What awaited her was a blank page.
A low feminine laugh drew her attention to a spot a few feet away. Behind a potted tree, she glimpsed the pale pink of Sophia’s dress. Surely, if touching a man without gloves was forbidden, hiding behind a potted tree with one had to rank right up there.
Before they entered the ballroom, Sophia’s eldest brother William, the Earl, warned the girl not to pull any of her “stunts”. He said he was damned tired of bailing her out of trouble, then added that someday she would find herself in a predicament even he couldn’t extricate her from.
Sophia appeared chagrined, but Juliana didn’t miss the gleam in her blue eyes. Neither did her brother because he grimaced and walked away, shaking his head in frustration.
Juliana rounded the potted plant and froze. Sophia was leaning toward Sanjit Barun, standing so close her dress covered his boots.
Juliana yanked her friend away. Sophia squealed and stumbled into the plant. Barun reached out to steady her but Juliana slapped at his hand. “You stay away from he
r.”
He looked startled until his eyes met hers. Black hair shown blue in the light of the candles, white teeth gleamed with a predatory smile and his dark eyes narrowed.
Juliana’s breath hitched again and she had to remind herself to breathe.
“Sanam, I despaired of ever laying eyes upon you again.” The voice was smooth, yet grated on her nerves and brought back nightmares she had no desire to relive. “You left in such a rush the last time. We never had a chance at a proper farewell.”
Sophia looked wide-eyed from one to the other, her elbow still clenched in Juliana’s hand.
“You stay away from her. Do you hear me?”
He tilted his head, indicating the cane he held in his other hand. “I know well what you speak of, sanam. Next time I will be more careful.” While his smile was benign, the steel in his voice was not and the implied threat sent shivers down her spine.
“I am not your beloved and there will be no next time.”
He smiled, but the beauty of it turned Juliana’s blood to ice. He reached out and caressed her cheek. From eyebrow to chin she felt his touch like fire but refused to move, refused to give him the pleasure of her response.
With a nod at Sophia, he slid past. Juliana pulled Sophia closer to her, not wanting any part of Sanjit Barun to touch either of them, and watched him limp away, leaning heavily on his cane, apparently still recovering from the injury she inflicted on his thigh.
Morgan pushed his desk chair back, propped his feet on the corner of the desk and tipped the bottle of brandy to his mouth to take a healthy swallow. Hours ago he’d given up on using a glass. He took another swallow and felt the fire settle uncomfortably in his belly. Disgusted, he slammed the bottle on the desk and ran a hand through his tangled hair.
A knock on the front door had his gaze going to the clock on the mantle. He thought about ignoring the summons but his men were out combing the streets with the order to contact him as soon as they found any information leading to Barun and only his men would beat on his door at two in the morning.
Wherever You Are Page 13
