A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(54)

She looked away, and he realized even more fully what he had been asking of her.



Julia did not want Mr. Langdon to think she was asking for his pity. She knew what she was getting herself into by spying on her uncle, but she wanted to do it. It was her duty to the Crown and to her country. Besides, whether she helped spy or not, once her uncle was found out, she’d have nowhere to go and her reputation would be tainted by association.

Julia spoke swiftly as they walked. “I was hoping that Mr. Wilson, as a clergyman and the head of a charity mission, would know of a place for my friend. But perhaps it was unfair of me to tell you, for you will wonder of whom I am speaking.”

“No, Miss Grey.” He stopped her with a firm hand on her arm and turned to face her. “I am very glad you have told me so that I might be able to help. And as for wondering who she is . . . we all have sinned and fallen short of God’s best. I have no right to pass judgment.”

“That is most kind of you, Mr. Langdon. Thank you. This person is in great need, and I seem to be her only friend in her desperate situation. I don’t want to see her further hurt. I am sorry I had to reveal these things to you and rely upon your secrecy, but her need is urgent and immediate.”

“You may depend upon me to keep this information with the utmost discretion and to share it only with Mr. Wilson. And I can offer this assurance—that although I do not know the particulars, I do believe Mr. Wilson will know exactly where this young lady may find a safe place to live, at least temporarily.”

“Oh, Mr. Langdon, you can’t know how much relief this brings.” Julia pressed her hand to her heart as such a rush of air filled her lungs that she became lightheaded. “I will write to my friend immediately. But how will you—or Mr. Wilson—get the information to me? How must I instruct my friend to act?”

“In our usual place, of course,” Mr. Langdon said, a grave look in his eyes that caused her stomach to flutter. “I will let you know what your friend must do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Langdon.” Tears filled Julia’s eyes, and she swallowed to force them away. “You are very kind.”

He stared at her as if he were trying to discern something from her expression, as if he was looking right through her, into her thoughts. Though, if her aunt and uncle found out that she was helping Sarah and had defied them by coming to the East Side today, she very well could be in need of a place to live.

Felicity exited the shop and came toward them. “They had the very thing.” She smiled, showing her perfect teeth, and held up her wrapped parcel.

Mr. Langdon and Julia congratulated her and turned to walk back toward the place where they would meet the coach.

Julia was staring at Mr. Langdon’s profile when she became aware of snorting horses and a carriage stopping just behind her. Turning, she saw it was the driver who had driven them there.

“Here is our hackney.”

“Allow me.” Mr. Langdon helped Felicity in first, then Julia, holding firmly to her hand and placing his other hand beneath her elbow. He closed the door behind her, and then, out of the window, she saw him pay the driver. As they drove away, he held her gaze with solemn eyes and a grave expression.

Most people would think ill of her simply because she associated with and was trying to help a young woman whose morals had been compromised.

But Nicholas Langdon was not like most people.



Very early the next morning, Julia put on her pelisse and her largest bonnet and walked to the park. It was a damp, foggy morning, so she encountered very few people, which was good, since walking alone in London was not a proper thing for a young lady.

She went straight to the oak tree and put her hand inside the knothole. Under the rock was a piece of paper. Julia drew it out and continued walking, hiding the paper in her palm. When she had walked several more feet, she turned and faced the trees. Julia quickly unfolded the note and read silently:



Have your friend come with her belongings to the Children’s Aid Mission at noon on Monday. All is well and will be well.



Julia quickly stuffed the note into her reticule, which was hanging from her wrist, and made her way toward home, her heart soaring inside her chest. Now she just had to get word to Sarah.

As soon as Julia entered the front door, Phoebe exclaimed, “There you are! I was wondering if you’d gone for a walk.”

“I’m surprised to see you up so early.”

“I couldn’t sleep. You haven’t gone for a long walk, have you?” Phoebe glanced down at Julia’s shoes and then reached out and touched Julia’s cheek. “You look a bit flushed.”

“No, I did not go far. Would you like to walk with me? We can take a turn around the square.”

Phoebe nodded. Julia waited while Phoebe put on her gloves, bonnet, and a light spencer to guard against the morning chill. With their parasols in hand, they set out. Julia vowed to write a letter to Sarah as soon as she got home and post it that very day to make sure Sarah received the information in time.

Julia peeked down at her reticule where she had placed Mr. Langdon’s note, which might as well be a sleeping snake. As soon as possible, she would have to burn it. If Phoebe or Mrs. Wilhern ever found out Nicholas Langdon had written her a note . . . it didn’t bear thinking of. But then, how would they know he had written the note? He had not signed it. Still, if someone recognized his handwriting or somehow guessed it, she would never survive the wrath of the Wilherns.