Mysterious Miss Channing (Ranford Book 3)

by Nadine Millard

Whatever chance she had of making Caroline understand, would Charles? He, who had such a hatred of dishonest women. Would he see that she had had no choice? Julia doubted it very much.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHARLES GAVE UP ON even attempting to pay attention to the performance for the second half.

  And his mind, though still partly focused on how unbelievably inviting she was, he was human after all, was now mostly taken up with wondering what the hell was going on with Julia.

  He would have said that Mrs. Birch had merely been mistaken in her information, but no. Julia had visibly paled as soon as she’d seen the other woman. Not only that, but at the mention of her father, Charles had thought she would faint.

  He had watched her dash off with Caroline, watched as Caroline’s expression went from shocked to worried. Something was going on here.

  Charles felt sick. Could he have been so mistaken again? Taken in by another woman?

  He couldn’t believe it. Every instinct told him that he hadn’t been fooled by Julia, that she was nothing like Isobel. But still, she was hiding something.

  His mind ran through possibilities, each worse than the last. Was she a criminal of some kind? Was she, he swallowed painfully at the next thought, was she married? Did her heart belong to someone else? Was this some sort of wicked conspiracy?

  It didn’t make any sense.

  And at the end of it all, the fact remained that she had been lying to him, to them all.

  Charles felt like roaring out his anger, his pain. He was a damned idiot.

  Yes, he knew with the wisdom of hindsight that though his pride had been hurt by Lady Sturridge, his heart had escaped unscathed.

  Sadly he could not claim the same thing now.

  He knew that he was in love with Julia. He loved her so much that even the thought of her possibly being married wasn’t enough to stop him wanting to be with her. So what did that say about him? He was as soulless as he’d expected.

  If Julia wanted him to, he knew he would hang around forever, taking whatever scraps of affection she could throw at him whilst she went back to her husband.

  The pain that lanced through him would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t been sitting.

  Yes, he loved her. And she, rather than being his angel, was turning out to be his tormentor.

  JULIA MADE ABSOLUTELY SURE that she stayed away from Charles for the remainder of the evening.

  She managed to get herself into a carriage with Caroline, Tom, and the countess, ensuring there was no room for him to travel with them.

  She spoke not a word more than absolutely necessary on the journey back to the hotel, and when the countess asked if she was quite well, she seized the opportunity to claim a headache so that as soon as they reached the foyer, Julia went straight to her room.

  The panic that had been clawing at the surface of her calm exterior suddenly burst forth.

  Oh, God. She’d been found. She’d been caught.

  She couldn’t stay here. Not with the Carringtons, not with Charles. The thought gave her a stab of pain, but what could she do?

  Charles was a very powerful Peer, but he couldn’t help her. Nobody could. Not even Edward.

  She needed to leave. Leave the family. Leave Dublin. Leave Ireland. Her only choice now was to flee. She would go to Dover. Catch a ferry to France and — well, she didn’t know beyond that, but she needed to leave.

  If Mrs. Birch managed to get word to her father quick enough. If he came for her. Julia felt her stomach churn at the next thought; if he brought Larsden with him — no, she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk it.

  The panic was in full flight now, but Julia couldn’t stop it. It all came flooding back to her: her childhood, her poor mother, that horrifying night that she’d fled.

  Julia remembered these attacks; she hadn’t had one in so long, but they came rushing back now. The pounding, dizzy head, the total inability to breathe properly, the sweat, even though she shivered, feeling icy cold.

  In blind terror, she began throwing her meagre belongings into her valise. All of her money was back at Ranford Hall. What would she do?

  Well, she’d brought enough for new gowns; that would have to be enough to get her on a boat to England. Then, then she would figure it out.

  Julia laughed at her incredible naivety. Did she really think her life had become so easy that she could swan about in new gowns and not worry about anything?

  She would never be free, not until her father was dead. And even then, Julia was so convinced that he’d sold his very soul to the devil he would probably live forever.

  The knock that sounded on the bedchamber door turned Julia’s blood cold.

  The tiny, rational part of her mind that still had a voice told her it couldn’t possibly be her father or Larsden or even Mrs. Birch or any of that set that had done those unspeakable things. But it was being drowned out by her screaming panic.

  She watched in horror as the door opened and then sobbed with relief when she saw Caroline and Rebecca enter.

  “Julia, are you feeling—?” Caroline stopped mid-sentence as her eyes took in the sight before her.

  Julia watched as Caroline and Rebecca shared a speaking look, but she didn’t have to worry about it. She needed to escape. Now.

  “What are you doing?” Rebecca asked, her expression one of utmost concern.

  “I-I need to l-leave,” stammered Julia. Her teeth were chattering, but she could feel the sweat on her brow.

  If only she could breathe. If she just breathe, she would be able to think properly.

  “Leave? You can’t leave. It’s the middle of the night. Good lord, Julia. What is the matter?”

  Julia broke into noisy, tearful sobs. They were going to make her stay here, and then she’d be found out.

  “Please, please you must let me go. I have to go. I can’t let him find me.”

  Caroline stepped forward with a hand extended, but Julia whirled away from her. In her haste, she stumbled over her gown and careened into the looking glass by the dressing table.

  “Julia!”

  She heard Rebecca and Caroline cry out, but it was too late. Instinctively, her hands shot out to break her fall, but they came into contact with the glass instead.

  Julia watched with a sort of detached fascination as the blood ran in rivulets down her arms.

  Just like then.

  So much blood.

  CAROLINE AND REBECCA WATCHED horrified as Julia gazed at her arms without crying, without acknowledging any pain or even any emotion, before she switched again. Her eyes became wild once more; the tears flowed again.

  They were terrified. This was so unlike her. What should they do?

  “Rebecca…” Caroline turned to her, whispering frantically. “…we need to get help, but we cannot leave her alone. Go and tell someone — mother or the dowager. I shall stay with her.”

  Rebecca, who was pale with worry, nodded her head and moved as quickly as she could.

  Something was terribly wrong with Julia. But she had no idea what.

  THE FAMILY WERE IN the private sitting room they had procured for their stay when Rebecca burst through the door.

  Immediately, Edward leapt to his feet.

  “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

  Rebecca stared up at him in confusion for a second or two before she shook her head. “It’s Julia,” she cried, her voice wobbling with fright and concern. “There’s something wrong with her. She’s sick. Caroline is with her now. Well, she’s not sick but — but there’s so much blood and—”

  Rebecca’s words were cut off as she was nearly knocked off her feet by Charles running past her.

  Pandemonium broke out with everyone moving at once.

  Edward rushed to Rebecca’s side, trying to get her to sit down, but she ran after everyone else.

  Charles had left them all behind as he flew toward Julia’s room.

  This was the outside of enough. They couldn’t hav
e all six of them bursting in there; Julia was frightened enough.

  “Stop,” Rebecca screeched, bringing them all to a halt.

  She looked first at Charles and saw that his eyes were bright with worry, his mouth drawn in a thin line.

  He would be no use to any of them if he lost control of himself.

  “Charles,” she said, her voice firmer as her panic subsided in the face of his. “Go and fetch a doctor.”

  “No, I want to see her. I—”

  “If you want to help,” Rebecca interrupted him. “Get the doctor.”

  He looked so desperate for a moment that Rebecca wanted to reach out and hug him, but there was no time for any of that.

  With a brief nod of his head, he went back down the corridor to send for help.

  “Mama, Lady Catherine, please go to Caroline to help if you can. Tom, could you have a maid bring some water and some towels for the cuts? Edward, make sure Charles isn’t climbing a wall somewhere please.”

  It would have been funny under other circumstances; Rebecca who was significantly smaller than all of them, standing there like a general, ordering them about. But they were too concerned for Julia not to do as she asked and besides, they were all used to it by now.

  The ladies hurried off toward Julia’s room, and Tom went in the opposite direction.

  Edward stayed for a moment, frowning down at his diminutive wife.

  “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

  Rebecca felt tears fill her eyes, but she nodded her head firmly. This wasn’t about her, and it was certainly no time to give in to hormones.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. We came to check on her, and she was trying to leave. She said something about someone finding her.” Rebecca shrugged helplessly. “She’s terrified, Edward. But I don’t know what of.”

  Edward pulled Rebecca into a tight embrace, and she sighed as she felt his lips brush her hair.

  “We’ll fix it, sweetheart,” he promised.

  Tom returned with the news that the maids were on their way with the things Rebecca had requested.

  “I want to check that Caroline is all right,” he said firmly.

  “I don’t think you should be—”

  “Rebecca,” he interrupted. “I’m going to check on my wife.”

  Rebecca watched him march down the corridor then stamped her foot in temper.

  “What is it with you men, thinking we are completely helpless?” she fumed.

  “He’s just worried, sweetheart,” said Edward. “Besides, we’ll take any chance to act chivalrous if it gets us in your good graces.”

  “Well, I’m annoyed with him now. And you, for keeping me when I should be with Julia.”

  “Yes, but you won’t stay annoyed,” Edward said softly, dipping his head to nibble at her neck.

  He grinned wickedly as he felt her pulse begin to race and heard her breathing change.

  “Enough of that,” she said, shoving at his chest, though she didn’t sound very convincing. “We are in the middle of a crisis. Now, go and find my brother.”

  Edward gave her a playful wink but went to do as he’d been told.

  Rebecca hurried back to Julia’s room and came across Tom and Caroline in much the same position she and Edward had been moments before.

  “How is she?” she asked Caroline and could see from her sister’s expression that she was just as worried.

  “She’s still completely overwrought,” said Caroline, turning toward Rebecca, though she remained safely ensconced in Tom’s arms.

  “Mama and Lady Catherine are attempting to calm her since I could not.”

  “What on earth could have caused such a thing?” asked Rebecca.

  “There was something about meeting that woman that set her off, I’m almost sure. She told me that—”

  Caroline stopped and glanced up at Tom.

  He smiled wryly.

  “No, don’t worry. I won’t pry. If Julia wants to take you into her confidence, then who am I interfere?”

  “Thank you, darling…” Caroline smiled at him. “…but the truth is I do not know what is wrong. She said that she needed to speak to me, but she never said what about. I’m sure it’s to do with that woman.”

  “So am I.”

  They all whipped round at the sound of Charles’s voice behind them with Edward close behind.

  Caroline saw the look of desperate worry in her brother’s face and stepped forward to put a comforting arm on his shoulder.

  “She will be fine, Charles. As soon as the doctor gets here, we’ll figure this all out.”

  “But, what’s wrong with her?” Charles asked, his voice hoarse.

  “She’s having an attack,” said Tom. “A panic attack.”

  He looked round at all the faces gaping at him.

  “That’s right. Occasionally, I do actually know something,” he said.

  “But how do you know?”

  Tom’s jaw tightened before he relaxed his face into an expressionless mask.

  “My mother had similar, I remember, though I was very young. Generally, after my father had berated her for some mistake or another.”

  They all knew what Tom’s father had made Tom and his departed mama suffer. Caroline moved back into his arms, and Tom smiled down, kissing her tenderly.

  CHARLES TURNED AWAY FROM such obvious displays of affection.

  He couldn’t handle seeing them, not when he was so worried about Julia.

  “The doctor should be arriving shortly,” he said, his voice low, his back still turned to them.

  “She will be all right, Charles,” Edward said softly.

  “How do you know,” he snarled, rounding on his brother-in-law before heaving a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Edward, I’m just—”

  “I know,” said Edward gently.

  “Rebecca, you mentioned blood. What happened to her?”

  “She didn’t harm herself or anything like that.” Rebecca was quick to reassure him. “She tripped on her gown and crashed into the looking glass.”

  “Oh God. I have to see her.”

  The thought of Julia, his Julia, in pain and upset… it was tearing him apart. All of his earlier suspicions and anger disappeared in the face of something being wrong with her.

  Rebecca and Caroline argued against his entering the room, and he argued right back.

  Tom and Edward stayed studiously quiet, obviously knowing better than to get involved in disputes with his impossible sisters. They must be thinking that Charles was wasting his time, since neither of them had ever won an argument with the Carrington girls.

  But the argument was cut short by the arrival of the doctor, who stopped only to ask a couple of questions before sweeping past them into the room, Caroline and Rebecca fast on his heels.

  The three men were left in the hallway looking awkwardly at each other for a few minutes before Tom broke the silence.

  “Drink?” he asked.

  “Lots of drinks,” answered Charles, earning him sympathetic glances and the first glass of brandy when they returned to the sitting room.

  THE ROOM WAS SILENT apart from the ticking of a clock on the mantle and the cracking of a fire in the hearth.

  Julia could hear the sounds, but she was far too tired to open her eyes.

  She felt as though she had been through some horrible ordeal or other, but her mind was too fuzzy to fully comprehend what was going on.

  Before, when she was recovering from an attack, there would be pain. Either from her father’s lashings or one of his cronies’ manhandling.

  She felt nothing now, excepting a dull throb in her wrists. But she was so confused. Was she in her father’s house? Had she come back? No, that wasn’t right.

  Julia’s head began to ache from trying to figure out what was going on. Then, her attention was caught by whispered voices.

  “Charles, dearest, she is sleeping. Come and get some rest.”

  “No, I
’m not leaving her.”

  “Dr. Marshall said the sedative will have her sleeping all night. And the drugs he gave her for the pain will make her drowsy in any case.”

  “I know, I just… I just want to stay with her awhile.”

  Julia’s heart ached at the pain in his voice. She wanted him to stay too, but she was too tired to even open her eyelids, let alone tell him that.

  “All right, dear. Please do try to get some sleep.” The countess’s voice drifted away.

  Julia felt the waves of tiredness pulling her further under, and, with a sigh, she gave way to them, but not before she felt the warm press of what she thought were Charles’s lips on her forehead.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JULIA AWOKE TO THE sound of someone moving around her room.

  She heard the sound of curtains being drawn before a dazzlingly bright light filled the room.

  Her head hurt, but she at least didn’t feel that helpless tiredness from the night before.

  She opened her eyes and shielded them from the light. It appeared that snow had fallen in the night, and now the cool, winter sun was glinting off it, causing the blinding brightness.

  Julia looked toward the source of the noise and saw a maid bustling about, righting chairs and setting down a tray at the foot of the bed.

  Julia gulped at the sight of the room. The mirror had been removed, the glass cleaned up.

  Her valise lay untouched where she had left it, half packed in the middle of the floor.

  As the memories came back faster and faster, Julia darted a glance toward the chair that she was sure Charles had occupied last night.

  The chair was there, pulled close to the bed, but there was no sign of him.

  She tried not to feel disappointed. It was only right that he should not be found here, in her bedchamber, having spent the night.

  Besides, she needed time to process the events of last night.

  Julia’s cheeks burned with shame and humiliation.

  It had been years since she’d gotten into such a state, and even then, that had really only been when she was very young. As soon as she was old enough to really understand what went on in her father’s house, Julia had managed to shut down her emotions completely, almost live outside of herself.