No Earls Allowed

by Shana Galen

  Julia caught her breath, and Wraxall moved in front of her. “You’re dismissed.” Wraxall put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

  Lord Jasper shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.” And then just as Ralph had described, the masked man seemed to all but disappear into the growing darkness and the bustle of people looking for shelter before the storm.

  “Is he one of your men?” she asked Wraxall, forgetting for the moment that she didn’t wish to speak to him. “One of the soldiers you served with?”

  “He is.”

  “Is his face that awful? Is that why he wears a mask?”

  “He was burned in a fire during an ambush. He’s lucky to be alive, but he’s self-conscious about the scar.”

  Julia noticed he didn’t answer her question about the gruesomeness of the burn. “He should be proud of it. He’s a hero.”

  Wraxall gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think any of us feel much like heroes, my lady. Come inside before we’re blown away.”

  But before they could close the door, another figure fought the wind to start toward the orphanage. Wraxall stepped in front of her, probably to protect her, but there was no need. She recognized the livery the man wore immediately as that of the Earl St. Maur. Julia put a hand on Wraxall’s arm, then just as quickly removed it. She’d felt the hard solidity of his muscle beneath her hand.

  “It’s one of my father’s footmen,” she told him, avoiding looking into Wraxall’s face.

  “My lady!” the footman called over the wind. “I have a message from your father.”

  She held out a hand to take the folded paper. “Won’t you come in and have some tea in the kitchen?”

  The footman shook his head. “I had better get back.”

  “Very well.” When he turned to leave directly, she called, “You do not need a reply?”

  “No, my lady. The earl said none was required.”

  Julia stepped inside, and Wraxall closed the door and pushed the bolt home. Annoyingly, he stood and waited for her to open the letter. She gave him a glare, but it didn’t seem to deter him. She might have scolded him if she hadn’t been distracted by the contents inside the envelope. The only item inside was an invitation to Viscount Sterling’s ball that evening. Scrawled across the invitation, in her father’s spiky hand, were the words Your attendance is required.

  “Oh no,” she muttered.

  “Oh yes,” Wraxall answered, reading over her shoulder. “You will attend if I have to escort you myself.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “And if I attend this ball, who will take care of the children?”

  Wraxall opened his mouth, paused, then smiled. “I have just the person in mind.”

  “Who?”

  “Leave that to me. You will attend that ball.”

  “And what about the situation with Mr. Goring?”

  “He can float away in the deluge for all I care. You and I will go.”

  “Go where?” Michael asked. Julia turned to see about half of the boys crowding into the entryway.

  Julia folded her hands and smoothed her expression. “Go upstairs to put you boys down for a nap.”

  “Not me!” Michael said, shaking his head violently.

  “Not I,” Julia corrected.

  “I won’t make you take one, if you don’t make me, my lady.”

  Julia laughed. “You don’t need a nap, Michael, but Charlie, Chester, Jimmy, and James do.”

  “I’m not tired, my lady!” James said.

  “Me either,” Charlie said, his eyelids drooping.

  “Nevertheless, a little rest is just the thing.” She bundled the four boys together and pushed them toward the stairs.

  “Lady Juliana,” Wraxall said from behind her. “You are taking a third of my workforce.”

  “Well, perhaps now is a good time for all of you to rest. These are boys, sir, not soldiers. They should have some time for recreation.”

  She glanced down from the steps and saw him frowning at her. Before he could argue, the first clap of thunder sounded and a steady rain drummed on the roof. It was the sort of day she’d always loved when she’d lived in Mayfair. It was less comforting here. “Robbie, you and Billy get the buckets. Walter, will you and Michael get the pots and pans? Ralph, go and cover Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s enclosure. You know the rain makes them nervous. Best they feel snug and secure so we don’t have to spend the rest of the afternoon searching for them.”

  There was a chorus of “Yes, my lady,” and then she shuttled the little boys upstairs again. Wraxall was right behind her.

  “What the devil is this?” he asked.

  “Sir, watch your language around the children.”

  The little boys giggled as she herded them into their room and pulled the curtains closed. The room was already dark, but this made it feel cozier. “Off with your shoes, boys. Then climb under the covers.”

  Wraxall stood in the doorway. “What the deuce is this?”

  “Nap time,” she answered.

  “No, I meant with the buckets and pots and pans.”

  “That’s to catch the water,” Jimmy told him, hopping into bed. “Don’t forget our bucket, my lady.”

  “I won’t.” She tugged it from the corner and placed it between Chester and James’s beds, where water had already begun to leak from the roof.

  “Do you mean to tell me the roof leaks?” Wraxall asked.

  “I hadn’t intended to tell you at all, but I suppose it’s quite apparent now. We have plenty of buckets to deal with the leaks.”

  “If we use the pots and pans too,” James said. “But that doesn’t work so well when it’s dinnertime.”

  “Shh.” Julia placed a kiss on James’s forehead then went to Jimmy and Charlie. Chester was taking his time. “Chester, nap time.”

  “I’m not tired.” He yawned. “That wasn’t a yawn. I was stretching my mouth.”

  “You don’t have to sleep,” Julia told him, pulling back the blanket on his bed. “Just rest. I will come and get you up in an hour.”

  “Major doesn’t need to rest.”

  Julia glanced at Wraxall. Now was the time for him to either help her cause or hurt it. If he hurt it, she would be plagued by tired, cranky boys all evening.

  “Actually,” Wraxall said, “I think Lady Juliana makes a good suggestion. We should all rest, and when you wake, we’ll be refreshed and ready to begin anew.”

  “So you won’t work on the steps without us?” Chester asked.

  Clearly Wraxall hadn’t anticipated having to make that sort of promise. Julia raised her brows. He sighed. “No. We will wait until nap time is through. You’ll miss nothing.”

  “Promise?” Charlie asked sleepily.

  “I do.”

  “My parents promised to come back for me,” Jimmy said. “But they still haven’t.”

  Julia sighed. Her heart broke for Jimmy, who couldn’t possibly understand that his parents either could not come for him or did not have the money to support him if they did. These poor children had learned not to trust adults. She’d been steadily earning their trust, but they hadn’t chosen to test her now. They’d chosen Mr. Wraxall.

  She looked at the major, not certain whether to interrupt or let him answer. For a long moment he stood uncertainly in the doorway, then he strode into the room and went to Jimmy’s bed, sitting on the side. “When I make a promise, I keep it. No work will be done on the house while you rest. I’m certain your parents will keep their promise too. They are in a difficult situation. Give them time, and they will come for you.”

  He brushed the boy’s dark hair back from his forehead. “Sleep now.” He looked at the other three boys. “That’s an order.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison, though Charlie’s reply was garbled as his thumb w
as already in his mouth.

  Julia stepped outside and closed the door when Wraxall followed her. “Thank you,” she said. “I know you meant what you said, and it’s so important to the children that they have adults in their life they can count on.”

  He had moved away from the room and closer to her bedchamber. Though the little ones could likely not hear, she had lowered her voice as she followed him.

  “I agree. That’s why I’m surprised you haven’t done more to show them they can count on you.”

  Julia glared at him. “What precisely do you mean by that, sir?”

  “I mean that you have them living in a place where they aren’t safe. What will you tell them when someone breaks in and hurts one of them or you?”

  “I don’t have to worry about that anymore. You have fixed the locks.”

  His light eyes bored into her. “Then what will you tell them when the roof collapses on their heads?”

  “I’ve asked the board of directors for more funds and instructed Mr. Goring to begin work on it.”

  “The same Mr. Goring who sits at Slag’s alehouse all day?”

  Oh yes. She’d forgotten she would have to let the servant go. “I’ll hire another manservant then.”

  “And how will you be certain he isn’t also in Slag’s pocket? That man wants you. You won’t be safe until he’s dealt with.”

  “Yes, well, I’m certain half the residents of Spitalfields wish he would be, as you say, ‘dealt with,’ but so far we are not so lucky.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “In any case, it is not your concern. We had an agreement. You would leave at the end of the day. I expect you to keep your word to me.”

  He gave her a long look. “You know I can’t do that. There’s the ball tonight.”

  She blew out a breath. “I am no child who needs your supervision, Mr. Wraxall. Nor do I need my father’s lackey to serve as a nurse.”

  “I am not your father’s lackey. I don’t stay for money.”

  “Well, you aren’t staying out of the goodness of your heart.” She paused, almost hoping he would contradict her. But he didn’t.

  “No. As I told you before, I don’t have a weak spot for orphans, but I do have my—”

  “Orders,” she said before he could. “Is that all you care about? Orders?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I have found at least one more item to care about lately.”

  And to her complete shock, he reached up and ran a finger down her cheek. His touch was light and fleeting, but it seemed to burn a path into her delicate skin. She stood rooted in place, all but paralyzed by his touch, but instead of touching her again, he gave her a nod and moved away and then down the steps.

  Slowly, Julia raised a hand to her cheek. Why had he touched her so intimately? Did he mean to imply he cared about her? They hardly knew each other. The thought had made her cheeks heat and her heart thud heavily in her chest. For a moment, she wondered what his lips might feel like on her cheek.

  She closed her eyes, imagining the light touch of his lips and the rasp of his dark stubble, and then a cold drop landed on her arm. Julia glanced up and saw a new leak had begun outside her door. With a sigh, she entered her room and collected a vase to catch the water. The activity helped clear her brain, and she was thankful for the interruption of her daydream.

  He’d almost fooled her. Julia had always wondered how Harriett could have been taken in by such a lying, cheating rogue as the man she’d married, but now she had firsthand experience.

  Men could be charming to have their way. Wraxall had all but made her forget he was only here to report back to her father what a disaster she’d made of running the orphanage. Soon he’d try to persuade her to leave.

  He was not her ally. He was not here to help her or the boys. Julia simply had to bide her time until he proved it.

  Eight

  The deluge of the afternoon had given way to a light sprinkle, and Neil stood in Lady Juliana’s parlor watching the rivulets of water run down the window. He’d sent for his evening clothes and now wore the dark coat and breeches required for a ball. His silk waistcoat was dark blue, and Neil supposed that was to add color to his otherwise somber appearance.

  The last thing he wanted to do tonight was attend a ball. Ordering boys around all day was far more taxing than ordering soldiers about. Neil had never known children had so much energy. They didn’t ever tire of bouncing up and down or asking questions. Thank God they had gone up to bed—

  A scream shattered his quiet, and he raced into the vestibule to find Lady Juliana brandishing a fan. The boys clambered down the stairs in various states of undress, presumably to protect her. “Who are you?” she demanded of the tall, platinum-haired man standing just inside the doorway. Instead of speaking, the man cut his gaze to Neil.

  “Protector,” Neil said. “Good to know you haven’t forgotten how to make an entrance.”

  Ewan scowled. He was muscular and broad-shouldered and more than a little intimidating. “Good to know you haven’t forgotten how to give orders.” His voice was low and his speech slow, giving weight to each of his words. “I’m here. Who do you need me to kill?”

  Lady Juliana gasped and jumped in front of the boys, shielding them from the perceived harm.

  Neil held up a hand. “He’s not serious.”

  At least Neil didn’t think Ewan was serious.

  “Lady Juliana, may I present Mr. Ewan Mostyn.”

  Her wary, brown eyes cut to Ewan then to him.

  “Mostyn is a friend of mine. I trust him with my life. And so I thought it only reasonable that I might trust him with the lives of the children while we are out.”

  “What?” Juliana and Ewan said together.

  Lady Juliana recovered first. “You cannot possibly expect me to leave the children alone with—with him. No offense, Mr. Mostyn. You simply do not look like a nursemaid.”

  Ewan waved away her apology. “My job is to kill people. If you need a nursemaid, call Rafe.”

  Juliana’s eyes grew wide, and Neil yanked Ewan out of the vestibule and into the privacy of the corridor. Rather, Ewan allowed Neil to lead him. If Ewan didn’t want to be moved, nothing and no one would budge him.

  “Stop talking about murdering someone. You are scaring the lady.”

  Ewan flashed a quick grin. The arse was having fun with his role as brute. “I’m no nursemaid.”

  “Of course not. The boys will be in bed shortly. I need you to protect the orphanage from anyone attempting to break in.”

  Ewan lifted a brow.

  “Yes, I know. People usually try to get out of orphanages, but there’s a crime lord who has recently taken an interest in the lady. All you have to do is sit here and keep watch.”

  Ewan narrowed his eyes. “What if the boys get out of bed?”

  Neil shook his head. “Order them back to bed.” He paused. “In a nice way. You don’t want them to start crying.”

  Ewan’s expression turned fearful. “They cry?”

  “No. They don’t cry. Lady Juliana and I will return in a few hours.” He clapped a hand on Ewan’s shoulder. “I need you, Protector.”

  “If there’s crying, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Understood.” Neil led Ewan back to the vestibule, where Lady Juliana still stood in front of the boys. “Has your father’s carriage arrived yet?”

  “You cannot possibly think to leave?”

  “I have my orders. Mr. Mostyn has his. The boys will be fine.” He pointed to the lads on the stairs. “Go back to bed. Mr. Mostyn will watch over the orphanage until we return.”

  “What if he murders us in our sleep?” James asked in his high voice.

  “Mr. Mostyn wouldn’t murder you. He would never commit murder. Right, Mostyn?”

  Ewan just stared at him. Neil stared back. Fina
lly, Ewan nodded. “Right.”

  Juliana furrowed her brow. “That wasn’t very convincing.”

  Neil took her arm. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we return home.” He all but dragged her away from the children. Finally, at the door, she turned back. “Go to bed, boys. I’ll kiss you good night when I return home.”

  “Blech.” That from some of the older boys. Neil heard the distinct sound of sniffling from a few of the younger boys. Ewan threw him a panicked look, and Neil pushed Lady Juliana out the door.

  It wasn’t until they’d arrived at Viscount Sterling’s ball that Neil had a chance to look at Lady Juliana—really look at her. And then he wished she’d stayed in the darkness of the carriage. In the glittering lights of the Sterling’s foyer, her rose-colored gown seemed to shimmer. The designs at the hem and the bodice were simple and wrought in silver thread that matched the silver combs in her hair. Pink as it was, the gown should have made her look young and innocent, but the way her breasts pushed at the bodice and the slight cling of the fabric to her rounded derriere did not bring to mind debutantes and prim misses. Perhaps if she hadn’t had that fiery hair swept up and caught by the combs, he might have been able to look away. But all he could think of was freeing the fire and pressing his lips to the smooth, exposed skin of her back while the coppery tresses brushed against his face.

  He wasn’t the only man who noticed her either. As they moved through the foyer and up the stairs to the ballroom, Neil noted men’s heads turning. If Lady Juliana noticed, she gave no indication. In fact, her eyes were slightly unfocused as though she were deep in thought.

  “Is your father here already?” he asked her.

  “Pardon? Oh, Papa? Yes, I am certain he came early and then sent the carriage for me. He would have wanted to discuss politics with Sterling.” They paused to allow the couple in front of them to be announced. “I hope the boys are in bed asleep,” she said.

  So that was what occupied her mind. “I’m certain they are. I kept them busy today, and I imagine they are more fatigued than usual.”