No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(21)

“At least your bedchamber door has a solid lock.”

“You checked my bedchamber?” Her skin prickled with heat.

“I like to be thorough. And if your cheeks are pink because you left that scrap of lace on the floor, I assure you I was thinking only of my orders.” But his smile said otherwise.

He had seen her undergarments! Her cheeks were not simply pink but burning hot. “You, sir, are impertinent.”

He laughed. He actually laughed!

“I’ve been called far worse. I would rather be impertinent and see you safe than reverent and see you come to harm.”

She crossed her arms. “Lovely sentiments, but you cannot stay under my roof. We have no chaperone. I know it may seem to you that I am throwing my reputation to the wind, but I’d rather not have my neighbors mistake me for a woman of loose morals.” Mr. Slag’s face floated into her mind just then. No, she definitely did not want him to form any more ideas about her.

“I assure you I would prefer to sleep in my own bed tonight,” Wraxall said.

“Good. Then go home and sleep well. I shall see you out, sir.”

He shook his head. “I shall see you home. The only way I leave you here alone tonight is if you go to your father’s house.”

Her shoulders and her hopes fell. “Mr. Wraxall, I love my father. He and I have no quarrel. He supports my work at Sunnybrooke.” That was partly true. He did support her philanthropic endeavors, but he did not support her moving into the orphanage. “Nevertheless, the boys here need me. I cannot leave them.”

“Mr. Goring is here.”

She scoffed. “Mr. Goring is not to be relied upon. The last time I left him in charge, Mrs. Nesbit gave her notice. Not to mention Mr. Goring knows nothing about the needs of small children. What if Charlie wakes with a nightmare or James needs a drink of water?”

“You are not their mother.”

“I am the closest they have right now, and that is another reason you cannot stay. The more you are here, the more attached the boys will become. They need a father figure in their lives, but if that is not to be you, it’s best the boys do not become attached at all.”

Mr. Wraxall’s face seemed to have paled, and he made an odd sound in the back of his throat. “Me? Their father?”

“Father figure,” she clarified. “And yes, they could use one. The only men they see here are thieves and criminals. I’d like them to have a man with some morals to look up to.”

Wraxall seemed to shrink away from her. “I am not that man. I’m no father and certainly no model of good behavior.”

She frowned in disappointment but not surprise. She had known he would not want to become more involved. He was here temporarily, and as far as she was concerned, the more temporary, the better. “Then you should go home.”

He pressed his fingers to his eyes and then dragged his hands over his face. His jaw was lightly stubbled, now that it was the end of the day, and his hair was more tousled. “Madam, as I have already explained, I cannot go home if you do not.” He raised a hand before she could object. “And do not tell me you are already home. You know my meaning.”

“Then we are at an impasse,” she declared. “You cannot stay here, and I will not go home.”

“You forget I was a soldier. I have faced impasses before, and the way to resolve them is that one side must give ground.”

“And I suppose I am the one to give ground?”

He shrugged. “It’s for your own safety.”

Her chin notched up. She would give ground, all right. Let him see just what kind of ground she would give him. “Unfortunately, I have no bed for you. The boys and I occupy the second-floor rooms, and Mr. Goring has the only bed in the servants’ quarters. The former cook occupied my room when I was at my father’s town house, and Mrs. Fleming did not sleep here.” She indicated the parlor with its dainty furniture. “You are welcome to sleep here, although I am not certain you will fit on the couch.”

He didn’t even blink. “I have slept in worse places, and I don’t intend to sleep much. I’ll keep guard.”

“How gallant of you.” Julia did not think she would sleep much either if she thought much about him a floor below her, awake and keeping watch. He would probably loosen his cravat and unfasten his shirt, exposing the bronze skin of his chest…

She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. If this was a battle, now was the time for a retreat. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night.”

And she left him in the parlor. When she reached her bedchamber, she found the fire in her hearth stoked and her underclothing picked up from the floor and draped over her bed. She locked the door, then hastily removed her clothing and pulled her nightgown on. It was silly, she knew. She was in the privacy of her own room, but she couldn’t help feel strange having a man—an attractive man—so close by.

She took her hair down, brushed it, and performed her nightly ablutions. Then she climbed into her warm bed and tried, desperately, not to imagine his hands on the lace at her breast.





Six


The quiet knock came a little after midnight. Neil had been sitting cross-legged on the floor on the entryway, waiting, but now he rose stiffly and crossed to the door. He hadn’t bothered locking it—a child could have forced that lock—and he opened the door and stepped outside to meet Jasper.