No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(32)



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.”

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