No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(8)

From what he’d seen so far, the kitchen, dining room, and a third room—probably a library or parlor—were on the first floor. He imagined servants’ quarters were on the lower level and the drawing room and bedchambers on the second floor. He hadn’t looked closely when he’d been outside, but he didn’t think the building high enough for a third floor. Likely Lady Juliana had converted public rooms on the second floor into dormitories for the boys.

Neil found the stairs inside the small, dark vestibule. He’d seen them when Goring, the manservant, had shown him in. As he stood at the base, more cheers rang out above him followed by groans. Lady Juliana’s voice grew louder. Neil began to climb the rickety staircase, and when he reached the landing, he said a silent prayer that, whatever hell he was about to enter, it wouldn’t involve more rats. He turned left, toward the noise, and stepped into a room with rows of four beds on either side. At the far end, a crowd of boys had gathered. Above their heads, he could just see Lady Juliana standing in the center, straining, her arms spread wide.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the boys chanted.

“There will be no fighting!” the lady said through clenched teeth. Neil realized she must have been holding two boys apart. He looked around for another adult who might be charged with supervising the children and saw no one. Was the petite daughter of the Earl of St. Maur the sole authority in an orphanage full of boys?

This was even worse than he’d thought.

Neil crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat just loud enough for the boys in the outer circle to hear him. One or two turned around, and eyes growing large as plates, they tapped the shoulders of their neighbors. Neil watched awareness ripple through the circle, and within seconds, the boys parted, leaving the two combatants and Lady Juliana exposed. Those three were so occupied they did not see him. The two boys—about eight years of age, if he judged correctly—swung at each other and tried to skirt around Lady Juliana. For her part, she ordered them to Cease this instant and Do behave while she danced between them and kept them apart.

He shouldn’t have wanted to laugh. He never laughed anymore, and this situation was particularly unamusing because he had a feeling that the more trouble Lady Juliana faced with these lads, the more determined she would be to reform them. On the other hand, perhaps after this experience, she would have seen the futility of reform and would welcome being saved. That cheerful thought gave him pause to appreciate how utterly ridiculous—and, truth be told, adorable—she looked. She couldn’t have been more than an inch or two over five feet and the curves her efforts exposed above the high waist of the voluminous gown were nicely rounded. Her coppery-red hair fell about her shoulders and her large, brown eyes flashed anger while the pale skin that often accompanied that red shade of hair was tinged pink with exertion.

With all the flour and dirt streaking her cheeks and arms, her wrinkled gown, and her hair flying in every direction, she should have looked as though she ought to be a resident of the orphanage. Instead, she brought to mind the image of a woman rising from rumpled sheets, skin pink from exertion—and pleasure.

He had heard his half brothers mention her name a time or two over the years. Lady Juliana was considered a beauty and had a dowry large enough to tempt one or two of them to court her, though it appeared no one had tempted her into marriage. Either that or her suitors had run screaming from the room at one flash of fire from her eyes. She did have expressive eyes. But he wasn’t cowed, and unfortunately, neither were her charges.

Neil straightened his shoulders and marched forward to do what he’d come to do—save the day.

Standing before the threesome, he cleared his throat again. This time the three pairs of eyes darted to his face. Lady Juliana’s gaze locked on his in horror, but the two boys were too enraged to take much note of him. Instead, they took advantage of the lady’s momentary lapse of attention and tore at each other like rabid dogs.

With a screech, the lady jumped back and out of the way. And then, instead of doing what she ought and scampering to safety, she jumped between the two boys.

Neil was so completely surprised that he didn’t move for a full three seconds. In that time, she almost parted the boys, but her skirts tangled about her feet and she ended up on her bottom.

“What the devil is going on?” Neil bellowed. “You, over there. You, on that side!” His temper began to simmer, and he pushed it back down, reminding himself these were children. He reminded himself as well that he’d sworn after that bloody day in Portugal he would never lose control again. Like a fist closing, he reined his emotions in and stepped forward. The two combatants scattered, and Neil held out a hand to Lady Juliana.

She brushed it away.

Confused, Neil continued to extend it, but she didn’t take it. Instead, he stared in astonishment as she climbed to her feet unassisted. Then she pushed her hair out of her eyes and glared at him. She’d probably been glaring at him for several moments, but he hadn’t been able to see for the profusion of coppery hair. “You.”

The one word was full of seething anger and condemnation.

What the devil was wrong with the woman? Perhaps she’d misunderstood. “I would have helped you to your feet, my lady,” he said.

“Oh, I think you’ve helped quite enough for one day,” she answered, her jaw clenched and her lips barely moving.

He stared at her and pointed a finger at his chest as if to ask whether she was referring to him.