Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(70)

“I couldn't sleep.” Julia forced a tired smile to her lips. “My conscience was troubled.”

“You'd do well to dispense with your conscience altogether,” Logan advised. “I did years ago, and I've slept like a babe every night since.”

“You must tell me how you did it,” she said, only half-jesting.

“Some other time. I have some news.” His expression was inscrutable. “A message was sent to the Capital for you and forwarded here. Apparently there's an illness in your family.”

“My mother,” Julia said automatically, while her heart beat out a worried staccato.

“Your father, I believe. I'm not aware of the particulars.”

“My father…” Julia shook her head in confusion. “That can't be true. He's never ill, he…” She fell silent, staring blankly ahead, all words sputtering into silence. There must be something terribly wrong. Eva would never have sent for her otherwise. It was impossible to imagine her father ill, confined to his bed. Throughout her childhood, she had never seen him afflicted with so much as a head cold.

“Are you planning to go to him?” Logan asked without inflection.

“I can't…there's no time…not with the play opening tomorrow night…”

“I'll cancel tomorrow night's performance. We'll open the following Tuesday evening.”

Bewildered, Julia looked into his vivid blue eyes. Logan never canceled a performance—it was one of his strictest codes. “Why?” she asked softly.

He ignored the question. “Will you be able to return by Tuesday?”

“Yes, I think so.” She was touched by his unexpected kindness. “Most managers in your position wouldn't let me go. I never would have expected this.”

Logan shrugged casually. “If I forced you to stay, you'd be in no condition to give a decent performance.”

“You could give the part to Arlyss,” Julia suggested. “She knows all of my lines. There's no need to cancel the play tomorrow night.”

“The role is yours. No one else could play it as you do.”

“Thank you, but—”

“Go to your father. Try to make peace with him. And come back soon…or I'll dock your salary.”

“Yes, sir,” Julia said obediently, though she wasn't deceived by Logan's attempted callousness. She gave him a small, grateful smile. “I've just realized that underneath everything you're a kind man. But don't worry—I won't ruin your reputation by telling anyone.”

Chapter 10

As Julia undertook the half-day journey to the Hargate estate in Logan Scott's wine-red lacquered carriage, she debated with herself about whether she should have informed Damon that she was leaving Bath. She was troubled by the nagging feeling that she should have confided in him. Was it wrong of her to want his comfort? More than anyone else, Damon would understand her complicated feelings toward her father.

The recollection of their bitter parting made Julia wince and set her jaw stubbornly. Damon wouldn't offer comfort; he would probably make some scornful remark and tell her she was welcome to shoulder her burdens alone. It would be hypocritical of her to make grand statements about her freedom and independence, and then turn to him for help at the first sign of trouble.

As the carriage and accompanying outriders traveled across the hilly countryside and approached the Hargate estate, Julia's urgency changed to apprehension. She realized she was afraid of what she might find at her childhood home, afraid of seeing her father ill, and certain that he would order her off the estate as soon as he saw her. The tall house perched among the hills like a hawk, dark and magnificent with its towers stretching toward the sky.

The vehicle stopped before the front entrance. A pair of footmen helped Julia from the carriage, while other servants came to take the horses and show the driver to the stables and carriage house. Before Julia had reached the top step, the massive door opened and the butler was there to welcome her inside.

In a matter of moments Eva appeared, wordlessly enfolding Julia in her arms.

“Mama,” Julia said in surprise, her cheek crushed against the pleated blue linen of her mother's gown. Although Eva's health had always varied greatly, she had never appeared as well as this. Somehow her mother had summoned a strength and sense of purpose she hadn't displayed in years. She was still far too thin, but the bones were no longer starkly prominent in her face, and there was a gleam of tranquillity in her brown eyes. It appeared that Eva took well to the unusual situation of being needed by her husband. For once he was the invalid and she was the head of the household.

“I'm glad you came,” Eva murmured. “I was afraid your schedule wouldn't allow a visit.”

“How is he?” Julia asked, walking with her through the entrance hall to the stairs. It seemed that a shroud had been pulled over the house; everything was unnaturally quiet and still.

Eva replied calmly, her face tense with worry. “Your father took to his bed with a fever several days ago. It was a very bad one—the doctor says it weakened all his organs. We weren't certain he would live, but now it seems the worst has passed.”

“Will he recover fully?”

“The doctor says he'll never be quite the same. The fever was enough to have killed a lesser man. It will take some time for Edward to regain his strength.”