No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(30)
“Then I shall dismiss him immediately.”
Wraxall held up a hand. “Not so quickly. Take away Slag’s perceived pathway to you, and he’ll be forced to find another or do something more dramatic. Now that we know of Mr. Goring’s duplicity, we can watch him and discover Slag’s plans.”
“And then what?” she asked.
“And then we persuade Mr. Slag you are not worth the trouble.”
“That sounds like a job for the Protector,” the masked man said. “If you have no more need of me at the moment, I’ll take my leave. I think I’ve scared enough women and children for one day.”
“You didn’t frighten us,” Julia lied. “I was not expecting you.”
The masked man’s eyes met hers with a penetrating stare. “Would you like me to scare you?” He touched his mask. “The few women who’ve looked on me without my mask have either screamed or fainted. Which would you be?”
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.”