by Sharon Sobel
Julia immediately regretted her teasing words and reached out to pat his sleeve. “I have only said so because I have not studied music at all, unless you count singing in the choir of our local church since I was a child. As you can imagine, I will be very much out of my element when you and Mr. Walters begin to play.”
The door opened again, and Will came walking through, pausing only to assess the seating arrangements. She had gotten rather accustomed to seeing him in his traveling clothes, but he looked rather elegant in his dark jacket and breeches. Without glancing about, she knew the other ladies appreciated that as well. Several chairs scraped on the wooden floor, and most of the conversation stopped.
Mr. Wolfe, not at all interested in handsome, well-dressed men, was not to be deterred.
“I imagine you are a lady who is in your element wherever you go,” he said gallantly.
“I have been recently tested, Mr. Wolfe, and I am not at all confident that this is true. However, I will do my best to keep up with you and hope my poor country Christmas songs will prove as entertaining as your Continental music.”
“I am sure most of you have met Lord Willem Wakefield,” announced Geoff. “He has only recently returned from the East Indies, and seems to have brought the volcanic clouds with him.”
“I understand they preceded me by some months, and I am sorry for that,” Will said. “But I am happy to report they may leave us soon. Just two nights past, Mrs. Townshend and I observed the starry night, quite unexpected and after this dismal year, a welcome event.”
The other ladies tittered and giggled, and Julia thought they were too easily amused. She supposed she ought to be grateful for that, for they would surely like her simple songs.
“Mrs. Townshend?” Geoff looked puzzled, looking around the room until his eyes fell on her. “Oh, you mean Miss Townshend? Although the lady no longer carries that name. I doubt anyone quite remembers her name before she married Lady Laurentia’s brother.”
Will sat in a large chair, next to Geoffrey. Though he seemed to be speaking only to him, his words were loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Truly?” he asked. “And yet she introduced herself to me as Mrs. Townshend. But you say she is Lady Laurentia’s sister-in-law? She must be Lady Leighton Kingswood, then.”
“I am,” Julia said, speaking up. “But doesn’t Mr. Shakespeare remind us that names are of little consequence?”
“And yet they are, for all Juliet says. The poor girl was too generous of spirit, too fair to judge anyone by his name,” Will said, studying her intently.
“And look where it got her,” Julia sighed. “But perhaps ladies are more inclined to fairness than men, for our poor names are likely to change several times in one lifetime.”
Mr. Wolfe jumped into the argument, startling Julia, who quite forgot he was there. “The lady has the right of it, Lord Wakefield. She was Miss Townshend once, and Lady Leighton now, but she may bear another name in the future.”
“Thank you for reminding me of that fact, sir. Somewhere there is a gentlemen who wishes to insure she does.” Will spoke without any hint of irony, and turned away from them to Geoff who, apparently, had a lot to say to him.
Julia’s heart thrummed in her breast. Surely he did not mean that he would be that gentleman, for all she dared hope and imagine? She tried to meet his eyes, to read what she might see there, but his attention was all for their host.
Somewhat deflated, she returned her attention to earnest Mr. Wolfe, and realized by his expression that he thought he might be that man. Good heavens. And this, on an acquaintance of not more than a half hour.
“Lord Willem’s experiences in the East Indies have made him irritable. I suppose I can’t blame him,” said Mr. Wolfe. “I don’t know how I would have managed, myself.”
“Mr. Wolfe, I suspect that his experiences have made him noble. If you have not already heard, my coach crashed in the storm of a few night’s ago, and Lord Willem pulled me from the wreck. I owe him my life.”
The man rubbed his forehead, until his hair stood on end. “But not, apparently, your name.”
He was a perceptive man, and a kind one. Perhaps at another time, she would have encouraged him, made an effort to improve on their acquaintance. But that was not possible while Will sat not ten feet away from her.
Surely he understood her need to be cautious and reticent, no matter how noble his rescue of her. The highways were populated with all sorts of unsavory types, which is why Geoff insisted he send his own coach and people for her. Julia supposed that was irony of the strangest sort: to be saved from those who were supposed to protect her, by a man whose motives and identity were completely unknown to her.
She did not realize she stared at him until he met her eyes. He nodded, thoughtfully, and said a few words to Geoff, who pointed to something on a large sheet of parchment that might have been a map.
“And your family?” asked Mr. Wolfe. It was terribly rude of her, but she had not listened to a word he said. But the man seemed quite capable of carrying on a conversation by himself. “I have a sister in Manchester, well-married and with several children. Our brother remains in Vienna, but intends to visit with us in the spring, should it ever come.”
“Oh, I am sure he will come,” Julia said politely.
“I have no doubt of it, but I referred to the weather, Lady Leighton. My brother is a musician of some renown and is much in demand in England. He will hesitate to make the Channel crossing if the stormy weather persists.”
“But you heard Lord Willem, did you not?” Will started when she said his name. “We saw the stars for the first time in many months only two nights ago, and that may be the harbinger of good things to come.”
“Ah, speaking of harbingers,” Mr. Wolfe murmured. “If I am not mistaken, here is our bird lady.”
“The bird lady? Oh, you refer to Miss St. John, Lady Shepworth’s niece. She is not quite . . .”
Julia put her hand to her lips to silence herself as Mr. Wolfe promptly stood along with the other gentlemen. Miss St. John, who was soon to marry Lord Nicholas Hawkely, should have been accustomed to such protocol, but nevertheless seemed surprised. The other ladies jumped up to greet her, and Mr. Wolfe followed them as they circled her, leaving Julia quite alone.
“Come, Julia,” Geoff said, quickly filling the void. “Wakefield and I are attempting to understand what happened on the road in Southold.”
“It is no great mystery, Geoff. The snow was falling, the wheels went into a rut, the coach overturned. Lord Willem has a better sense of it than do I.”
“That he might, but he came on the scene much belatedly.”
“If he arrived any more belatedly, I would be dead.” She looked to Will, but he was no longer near his seat. Instead, he was already at the door, making good his escape.
“Yes, and that matters a good deal more than my second coach, or the price of those horses. Though they were very fine,” Geoff lamented.
“Geoff!”
“Well, yes. Come, let us rejoin in the library before these ladies make me show them the conservatory or something of that sort. I wish to get to the bottom of this matter of the driver and the maid, and the sooner we do so, the sooner the mystery will be solved. My horses will yet be returned to me.”
Julia hit him playfully with her hand.
“And all the gifts I intended to bring will arrive before Christmas Day,” she said.
“And Mr. Carmichael Hedges and Miss Mimma Humphreys will come before the magistrate for theft and murder.” He took the hand that was still poised above his sleeve and started to lead her from the room.
“They did not succeed in murdering me,” she protested mildly.
“That they did not succeed is due to their own incompetence. It surely was their intention, and they shall have to account f
or it.”
“Geoff, please,” she protested, pulling back. “I will not have them hanged. Mimma is only a stupid girl.”
“A stupid girl who is probably wearing your Christmas party dresses at this very moment. Let us find the miscreants first and then decide what is to be done.” Geoff opened the door to the foyer and bowed gallantly as she walked past him. “If your gowns prove to be another casualty of this event, I assure you that my wife will have no problem outfitting you in high style. Indeed, if I am to believe her dressmaker’s bills, she could easily outfit every woman in East Sussex, and possibly a few men.”
WILL PREPARED himself to meet the barrage of friends and acquaintances prepared to celebrate Christmas together in the broad confines of Seabury, after living a relatively sedate life for several years. He supposed surviving a volcanic eruption could hardly be considered sedate, but neither was a masquerade ball with half of England invited.
For this, he was prepared. Therefore, he was somewhat surprised by how bothered he was at the sight of a thoroughly decent gentleman paying attention to a lady about whom he himself apparently knew very little. After all, he did not discover that she was Lady Leighton Kingswood until this very day. What else was she keeping from him?
Was she, perhaps, the paramour of that violinist from the continent? Was she the confidante of Miss St. John, betrothed to the very man about whom he intended to learn the truth at this Christmas party? Had she and Lady Laurentia planned for their abrupt meeting on the road in Southold?
No, he must be losing his sanity to think such things. He would not be thinking of them at all if any woman but the divine Lady Leighton had been involved. He ought to be grateful that Seabury would soon be full of revelers, for he might be able to avoid her altogether.
Though not, apparently, quite yet.
Lady Leighton slipped through the door of the library, with Geoff’s hand on her shoulder. He turned to see if anyone followed them, and then closed the door quietly behind them.
“Lord Willem,” she said, surprised. He wondered if she was now as bothered by him as he was by her.
“Lady Leighton,” he nodded, her name sounding awkward on his lips.
“Now that we’ve established that you two know each other, let’s get on with this,” Geoff said impatiently. “Will, you have the map and could record the path of your journey. You also saw the direction Hedges took after the crash. I already have Milton’s testimony, and have rewarded him well.”
“He is my man,” Will reminded him, as they took seats around a small table.
Geoff grinned at him. “Perhaps I am trying to lure him away from you. I am now short a driver, after all.”
“You are also short a carriage.”
“Yes, there is that. I suppose I could outfit another to return Lady Leighton to Lowerwood.”
“I am sure one of your guests will see me to London, and I can take the stage from there,” she said quietly.
“I would sooner drive you myself than let you make your way in a public stage,” Geoff said. “Things were bad enough when I sent my own people to see you to Rye. Besides, Laurentia would never allow it.”
Will looked from one to the other and realized how fond Geoff was of his brother-in-law’s widow, how easy was their conversation, how natural their teasing. When her husband was alive, there must have been an intense bond between them all, something Lord Leighton’s absence did nothing to diminish. Indeed, his absence might have strengthened the bond. If the man had only ducked that treacherous branch, he would have been here with her, celebrating the season. They might have brought their own child to meet his little cousin.
“It is not your fault, Geoff. Please know that,” Julia said, patting his hand.
“You will never convince me of that,” he answered, putting his hand over hers. Will felt he could leave the room and neither would notice. “But if something good comes of this, I shall attempt to forgive myself.”
Will realized their attention was now directed to him.
“Well, yes,” he said awkwardly. “We asked at each inn at which we stopped, and I questioned several people in Langerford. No one recalled seeing Hedges and Humphries, nor did they hear anything of a crash along the road. If you look at the map, you will see a fork just north of Southold, leading to the southwest, and possibly towards Cornwall. The snow continued to fall over the past few days, and they would have made better time on a highway than on the old Roman roads that are no better than footpaths.”
“Yes, I see that,” Geoff said, slipping his hand from Julia’s so he might hold the map closer to the candlelight. “I recall Hedges saying something about growing up in Penzance. Perhaps he has family there. Pirates, no doubt.”
“Then I shall leave directly and bring them to Rye, where justice can be served,” said Will.
“No!” Julia said.
“Did you hear anything to make you think they might be elsewhere?” Geoff asked, a bit sternly.
“No,” she repeated, chastened. “I only meant . . . I only wish . . . that Lord Willem not leave Rye. The weather might turn again in a matter of hours, and he will never return in time for Christmas Eve.”
She would not meet his eyes.
“Did you hear anything that might provide a clue to their whereabouts, or motive?” Will asked, attempting to return the discussion to a purely practical matter.
She shrugged and looked at Geoff. “Mr. Hedges is a confident young man, and assured me he was accustomed to such rough conditions. I doubted it, for when had we ever had a winter such as this? Mimma absolutely trusted him but seemed to lose her nerve just moments before the crash. In fact, she seemed desperate to escape, for all that there was no place to go except into the snow.”
“Could she have seen the lights of the inn in Southold?” Geoff asked.
Julia finally shifted her gaze. “I believe Lord Willem can better answer that. I saw nothing, but do not recall how far we were from our destination.”
“Too far to decide to walk there,” said Will. “Too far for anyone from the inn to hear a crash or the cries of people who need help.”
“I suspect Mimma lost all sense of judgment. Her hand was on the door, and she seemed to just fly out when the coach hit a rut in the road. That is all I remember until I woke up in a bed in the inn.”
Geoff looked between them, but said nothing. Will decided his friend could deduce whatever he wished, for he would get no further information from him on the matter. Julia seemed to be in accord. Though Geoff might feel responsible for her, she was a widow and her personal business was her own.
“Milton salvaged the Howard crests from the doors of the coach,” Will said. “There was nothing to be done about the rest.”
“Yes, I don’t doubt that. I suppose you recognized the crests and realized your destinations were the same?” Geoff said.
“As you say,” Will said.
“Something like that,” Julia said at precisely the same moment.
“With your approval, Will, I would like to enlist your man’s help in finding our adventurers and my horses,” Geoff said, rising. He looked like he would like to be anywhere but here. “I will assemble a group of my own men, who will recognize Hedges and Mimma, no matter what name they happen to be using.”
Will nodded.
“And I hope my sister-in-law approves of this plan, as well. Or do you, dear Julia, also worry about these men heading out in the snow?”
She said nothing, but Will supposed her flushed cheeks already answered Geoff’s question.
Geoff just shook his head, as if he despaired of the two of them. But then, that also suggested he understood the situation. He picked up the map and several other papers, and bowed before he left them quite alone in his library.
JULIA KNEW THAT many things needed to be said and supposed she
ought to begin with the simple truth.
“I did not know who you were,” she said.
Will tapped his fingers on the table, in rhythm with the counting of the minutes of the great long clock. It was a full three minutes before he responded, which might as well have been an eternity.
“Did I not tell you my name? Did not Thomas Raffles’s manuscript provide you with additional truth?”
He was right, of course, but she searched for reasons why she could still doubt him.
“I thought you were a highwayman. You might have stolen the manuscript just as Mimma stole my garments and jewels, and all the presents I brought to Seabury.”
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense. I imagine there are few highwaymen who could resist the temptation to read hundreds and hundreds of pages describing the rescue efforts in the aftermath of the volcano.”
Despite her best efforts, Julia giggled. He was right, of course.
“I thought you were an opera singer, an actress on the stage,” he continued. “On the first morning, you told me you were a singer.”
“And therefore you thought me a woman of easy morals, who could travel alone with you and allow you to buy me clothing, with no consequence to my reputation.”
He continued to tap his fingers, and Julia guessed he was ill at ease. Lord Willem Wakefield, who had survived all sorts of adventures and appeared to have rather decisive instincts, was nervous in her presence.
“I did not know what to think. You behaved like a lady, but actresses are quite capable of pulling off such deceptions.”
“They might be more capable than I. I did not entirely lie to you when I said I was Julia Townshend. So I was for 19 years, before Lord Leighton Kingswood happened by Gainsmeadow. Twice, a horse changed the course of my life. The first was when Leighton’s mare threw a shoe at my gatepost, and he called upon my father, asking for help. And the second was when the same good-natured beast led him beneath a spreading tree, and he cracked his forehead on a low branch.”
“Perhaps there is a third event as well,” Will said. “If Geoff’s matched pair of horses had not stumbled into a ditch, I would not have met you.”
