No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(57)

Wraxall stalked toward her. “Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason I told you to leave him in the parlor?”

“Did you ever think to tell me what it might be?”

He glared at her, and she glared back, but as she did so a drop of blood fell from her hand onto the carpet. She’d had enough. “Sir, you will come with me immediately. I insist on seeing to your injured arm.”

“I told you it was a scratch, and I haven’t finished this discussion.”

“Then by all means, we may continue it in my bedchamber.”

He started to protest and then closed his mouth. Julia did not know if she should take that as a good sign or a bad. She did want to treat the wound before he bled to death before her eyes, but she wasn’t certain she wanted him so eager to join her in her bedchamber.

Or perhaps it was she whose heart beat a little faster at the thought of him in her room, alone and shirtless.

“After you,” he said, drawing her attention to the fact that she was still standing in the middle of the parlor.

She clenched her hands together and walked past him, trying very hard not to notice how, without his coat, the tight fit of his trousers was more apparent and his thin linen shirt did little to hide his muscled chest beneath.

In the corridor she hesitated, not certain whether she should take the servants’ stairs or the main stairway. She decided on the main stairway so she would not have to explain herself to Mrs. Koch. All the boys and Mrs. Dunwitty were still at their lessons. Mr. Goring and Jackson were absent, which meant it would be her and Wraxall alone together. She lifted her skirts and started up the stairs, feeling his presence right behind him. Since he’d eschewed shaving thus far today, he had a dark shadow on his jaw. His work on the roof had left a smudge on his cheek and several more on his hands. The overall effect was one of danger.

The fact he stalked after her like a leopard hunting prey did not calm her nerves.

Finally, they reached the second floor and she led him into her chamber. She wisely left the door open as she rummaged on her dressing table for the kit she kept of basic medical supplies—bandages, strips of cloth, cotton, and spirits to clean a wound if need be. She found it, then turned to see him standing beside her bed, looking about her room with keen interest.

Too late, she realized she had been in a hurry when she’d dressed this morning—after the embarrassing incident with Mrs. Dunwitty catching them in the parlor—and she had left all of her underthings strewn about. Not to mention her bed was unmade and her night rail lay on top of the coverlet.

His gaze met hers, and Julia swallowed at the heat she saw in his eyes. She had to say something—anything—to ease the tension they both felt.

“Take off your shirt.”

Quite possibly, that was not the correct phrase for this exact moment.

He raised a brow, probably considering all the naughty things he might say next. She cut him off. “I need to see to your injury.”

“It’s not an injury. It’s a scratch. What we really need to discuss are Billy and Walter.”

“Walter was not even involved in the incident this morning,” she protested.

“That’s because he and Billy are working together.” He moved closer, his gaze locked on hers. “For Slag.”

She remembered the conversation she’d overheard between Wraxall and Walter. Not Billy too. She shook her head. “Billy isn’t working for Slag.”

“I can’t prove it. Not yet, at any rate. But all the signs are there.”

This could not be happening. These were her boys. Slag could not have them. “I won’t let Slag turn my boys into criminals.”

“How will you stop him? It won’t be long before these boys are bigger and stronger than you, and then they’ll go where they like, when they like. I’m fairly certain Billy could best you.”

“He would never hurt me.” She knew Billy, knew that underneath his aloof exterior was a boy who just needed to be loved. She had to find a way to reach that boy and to show him that she would love him.

“My lady, forgive me, but I have fought with thousands of men and commanded hundreds. I know something about my own sex. All Billy knows is violence. He might not want to hurt you, but if you stand in his way, he will do what he knows best.”

“And your solution is to condemn him to life in a workhouse?”

“Never. It was a threat, but the idea behind it is sound. If he is a threat to the other boys, then you owe it to them to send him away.”

“No.” Her chest tightened, and she struggled to draw a breath. “I will never let you take him away. I won’t allow you to take any of them. They are mine, and you can’t take them from me.” To her shock, tears appeared in her eyes.

“Even if it’s for the best?” he asked.

“It’s best that they stay here with me.” He was not Lainesborough, she told herself. Not Lainesborough. But it was too late. She could not calm herself.

He leaned down so their eyes were level. “You are not Billy’s mother.”

“I am the closest thing he has to a mother, and I will not allow you to rip him out of my arms as he cries in fear because he’s being taken from the only people and the only place he’s ever known.”

She’d said too much. She knew it too late, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, but Wraxall’s shrewd gaze missed nothing. Instead of replying, instead of asking her what the devil she was talking about, he stepped back, turned, and walked to the bedchamber door.