A Spy's Devotion (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Julia allowed the tears to come freely. She had never realized what a relief it was to cry. Perhaps Phoebe had discovered this quite some time ago, which was why she cried so often.

After several minutes of letting the tears flow, Julia finally wiped her face and poured herself some water, all the while aware of the paper stabbing her under her arm beneath her clothing.

Julia wandered about the room. Would it be safe to deliver her note to the message tree now? Or should she wait? No one ever noticed her in the mornings, but her uncle might follow her if she left now.

She pulled the paper out of her bodice and stuffed it in her reticule. She took up her bonnet and went downstairs.

No one was around. No one asked her where she was going. With any luck, she could get to the park and be back within ten minutes, and no one would even know she had left the house.

She arrived at the park, making her face a picture of contentment and calm. It was the hour when many people were out, taking the air, walking or riding, and she was forced to acknowledge several people before she turned the corner to find her tree.

She approached it and slipped the paper out of her reticule and then placed it into the knothole.

She had done what she could. But anything could happen. Someone else could find her paper. Her uncle could realize what she had done, could easily imagine that Nicholas Langdon was her contact. After all, Mr. Langdon had been the one in possession of the diary. Not only that, but he was staying in London a suspiciously long time after his recovery from his injuries.

What if her uncle had followed her and seen her put the paper in the tree? Or Mr. Edgerton? They’d make sure Mr. Langdon never received the information. Perhaps they would even kill Julia—and Mr. Langdon.

She had to stop these racing thoughts. She concentrated on breathing and walking and not thinking.

When she was nearly home again, a man turned the corner and was walking toward her. Julia’s breath went out of her, and she stumbled.

It was Nicholas Langdon.

He caught sight of her when she was still several feet away, and he smiled.

She approached him. They were actually in sight of the Wilhern house. Anyone looking out of the front windows might see them. People were passing them on foot and in carriages.

“Mr. Langdon.”

“Miss Grey.” He tipped his hat to her and then leaned his head toward her. “Forgive me for saying so, but you are looking a bit pale. Are you unwell?”

“There is something for you at the park,” she said as blandly as possible. Should she risk telling him that her uncle was planning to force her to marry Mr. Edgerton on Friday? Of course there was nothing he could do, and she did not want anyone seeing them talking.

He kept his eyes trained on her face, as he said quietly, “Are you in danger, Miss Grey?”

What could she say? “No. You should go. It’s very important.” She smiled to put him at ease and so no one would suspect that their conversation was anything but polite and appropriate.

“Thank you, Miss Grey.” He said the words carefully. “If the worst happens, you will come to my home, to my sister, Leorah. Promise me.”

“I shall try my best.” She had to blink quickly to push back the tears.

He clasped her hand in his.

“You should go before someone sees us.” When he looked reluctant, she said, “The best thing you can do for me is to take the note to our mutual friends and convince them to act upon it immediately.”

“I shall leave you word, if I possibly can.”

“Good day, Mr. Langdon.” Julia watched as his fingers let go of hers. She forced herself to continue the short distance to her front door.

As she entered the front vestibule and began removing her bonnet, her uncle stepped from the front sitting room. “Was that Mr. Langdon I saw you speaking with?”

“Yes. I took a short walk to the park, and he—”

“Is there something between you and Mr. Langdon? What were you talking of?” Uncle Wilhern’s eyes were narrowed, a sharp look in the small dark orbs.

“Nothing very particular. He . . . he asked after my health.”

Her uncle stared at her. Julia began pulling off her gloves. “If you have no further need of me, Uncle, I shall go up to my room.”

“Just a moment.” He seemed to be thinking, and then he said, “I want you to go and tell Phoebe you’ll be marrying Mr. Edgerton on Friday morning by special license.”

Julia hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course. I tell Phoebe everything.” She held her head high as she walked toward the stairs and started up. When she reached the top of the landing, she looked over her shoulder. Her uncle was still eyeing her. But at least he had not left the house and followed Mr. Langdon to the park.

Julia headed toward Phoebe’s room, knocked lightly on it, and entered.

Phoebe sneezed violently.

“Phoebe, what is the matter? Are you unwell?”

“You know I am never unwell.” Phoebe wrinkled her nose, a peevish tone in her voice. “But I do feel a bit feverish.”

Julia stepped toward her and placed her hand on Phoebe’s brow. “You are very warm. I think you do have a fever.”

“Well, I refuse to be sick.” Phoebe crossed her arms. “Don’t tell Mother, or she will make me go to bed.”

“Perhaps you should go to bed, Phoebe.”

“Not only will I not go to bed, but I want to go for a walk. Come, Julia. Let us walk to the park and see who is out and about.”

The last thing Julia wanted to do was go for a walk with Phoebe and run into Mr. Langdon as he was retrieving her note.

“I am not in the mood for a walk, Phoebe, but I did come to your room to tell you something important.” How well did Phoebe truly know Julia? Surely she would realize Julia had no desire to marry Mr. Edgerton.

“Phoebe, I have agreed to marry Mr. Edgerton. We shall be married by special license on Friday morning.”

Phoebe’s eyes grew wide. Then she sat down abruptly on the side of her bed. “You have accepted Mr. Edgerton? You are marrying on Friday?”

No.
“Yes.”

“When did you accept him, Julia? Why did you not tell me?”

“I only accepted him today. Your father wanted me to accept him.”

“Mr. Edgerton is handsome. I am sure you will be content with him, Julia, as long as we can be settled near each other. I believe Father said Mr. Edgerton would buy an estate near Wilhern Manor so we could be close.”

Carefully, Julia said, “You think I will be happy with Mr. Edgerton, then?”

“I think so.” Phoebe suddenly placed her hand against her chest. “I am not feeling well. I think . . . I feel feverish.” She coughed and then moaned. “Fetch Mother. I think she will want to send for the doctor.”

Was that all Phoebe had to say about the matter? But perhaps she was very sick after all.

Julia turned and went to fetch Mrs. Wilhern.

In four days she would be Mrs. Hugh Edgerton, as far as her uncle and Phoebe knew. But if her uncle and Mr. Edgerton were not apprehended on charges of treason and plotting to assassinate General Wellington before then, Julia would run away. She could go to the Bartholdys, but they were poor and she did not want to be a burden on them. They were kind and would take her in for a short while, but that was certainly not a long-term solution.

She had overheard someone speaking of a governess position in the country, the Atherton family in Suffolk, who had six children. And suddenly, she was desperate enough to wish for that position, a way to make her own living and escape her uncle and Mr. Edgerton. She would write to Mrs. Atherton today about the position.

Mr. Langdon had said he would help her if she found herself in danger, but she didn’t think he meant this sort of trouble. She would see him tomorrow night as they were all attending an assembly. Perhaps she could let him know that time was running out for her.

The next morning, Julia pulled the covers up to Phoebe’s chin.

“I can’t be sick.” Phoebe peevishly swatted at the blanket.

“You are coughing, you have a fever, and your nose and eyes are too red to fool anyone into thinking you are well.”

Phoebe threw her head down into the pillow and burst into tears. “I’ll miss seeing Mr. Langdon at the assembly tonight. It’s not fair.”

“If you don’t rest and get well, you’ll miss the trip to Bath later this week, and your aunt and uncle and cousins will be very disappointed in not seeing you.”

Julia handed Phoebe a handkerchief. “You’ll only make your head hurt by crying. The physician said you must not upset yourself. You must drink your tea and take your medicine and you will be better in a few days. But if you don’t, it could go to your lungs, and that could be dangerous.”

Phoebe blew her nose loudly and turned her head away. “You won’t go tonight without me, will you, Julia?”

“No, of course not.” Julia tried not to sound disappointed. “Your mother and father will stay home as well, I’m sure.” Truly, it was best she did not see Mr. Langdon any more than was necessary. She didn’t want her uncle to see her talking to Mr. Langdon again. Besides, if Phoebe suspected even half of what Julia felt when she saw Mr. Langdon . . .

“Get some sleep.” Julia squeezed Phoebe’s arm. “Send for me if you want me to come and read to you.”

Phoebe sniffed but didn’t answer. Julia slipped out and went to her own room to secretly pack a bag, in case she had to leave in a hurry.

Julia had hoped when she went to bed early that she would feel better in the morning.

Phoebe’s fever had only lasted a few hours, and after three days she seemed to be recovering from her cough, but Julia’s throat hurt, her head ached, and a cough had started deep in her chest. That morning, she woke herself up coughing. Her whole body ached. Mrs. Wilhern and Phoebe would not be awake for quite a while longer, so Julia lay in bed, praying she wasn’t getting sick. Now, of all times, when it was only two days until she would have to escape by whatever means necessary from marriage to Hugh Edgerton.

Julia lay in bed for hours before the maid, Anna, came in and asked if she was unwell.

“I’m afraid I am. When Phoebe wakes up, will you tell her?”

“Yes, miss.”

Anna didn’t even ask her if she could bring her anything. Mrs. Clay, the housekeeper at Wilhern Manor, would have made a fuss over her, bringing her special tea and broth and informing Mr. and Mrs. Wilhern immediately.

Julia got up and poured herself a glass of water. After two sips she was coughing again. She crawled back into bed.

Phoebe burst into the room. “Julia, you cannot be sick! A woman cannot be sick on her wedding day. Do you think you shall be well by Friday?” She stared down at her.

“I am sure I don’t know.” Julia winced at the pain in her chest.

“You are not so very sick, are you, Julia? We are supposed to go to Bath immediately after your wedding to Mr. Edgerton.”

“I’m afraid I am,” Julia rasped, just before an attack of coughing bent her over and violently shook her. “If I am very sick, perhaps we shall be forced to postpone the wedding.” A wisp of hope invaded her aching chest.

“But perhaps it is only a cold and you will be well enough by tomorrow.”

“I do not think—” Julia was seized with such a fit of coughing that she couldn’t finish her sentence. She sat up in bed and coughed so long and hard that tears ran down her cheeks and her chest burned as if with fire.

“Poor Julia. You are quite ill, aren’t you?” Phoebe patted her on the back until she was done.

“Will you . . . ring for . . . some tea?” Julia rasped.

“Of course. That will make you feel better.”

Phoebe sat on the edge of her bed, chattering about how much she would miss seeing Mr. Langdon at all the balls if they should go to Bath as planned. When the tea arrived, Phoebe stood.

“I shall go to Mother at once and beg her to go to Bath without me and let me stay and nurse you, Julia.”

“I would dearly love for you to stay with me, but—”

“I shall tell Mother at once.” Phoebe turned to hurry from the room.

Julia wanted to stop her, but she began to cough again and couldn’t say a word until well after Phoebe had closed the door behind her.

After Julia had drunk her tea, Phoebe walked back into the room, her head and shoulders drooping and her face dejected.