A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(55)

The next day was Sunday, and as Julia was changing after the morning church service, a knock came at her door. Molly quickly finished buttoning the back of Julia’s dress and hurried to open the door.

Mr. Wilhern stood in the doorway. “Molly. Let Miss Grey know I wish to see her in my study as soon as she is able to come down.”

Julia stayed in the back of the room. He glanced at her quickly before turning and walking away.

Her heart thumped inside her. What could her uncle want? Had he discovered, somehow, that she had rifled through his desk, copied the coded message, and given it to Nicholas Langdon?

“Shall I finish your hair, Miss Grey?” Molly asked.

“I’ll just pin it.” But Julia’s hand shook as she lifted a pin.

“Let me.” Molly sat her down and quickly finished pinning her hair.

“Thank you, Molly.”

There was nothing left to do but go downstairs and see what her uncle wanted with her.

Her shoulders and neck ached with tension as she approached her uncle’s study. She could not go on forever before being caught, so she needed to find out something definitive, something that would help the War Office capture Uncle Wilhern and everyone else working with him, so as to thwart their evil plans.

She entered her uncle’s study, and he stood up immediately from his desk.

“Come here, child.”

His brows were lowered, but he did not look especially angry. He fixed her with a penetrating stare. “Julia, you are like a daughter to me. I wish to always keep you near, and I know Mrs. Wilhern and Phoebe feel the same. And here we have a very eligible young man who wishes to marry you. He has even agreed to drink less just to please you. Surely you noticed the difference when he was here two nights ago.”

“Yes, Uncle. I suppose he has also come into the fortune you mentioned.”

“Very soon he will.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “It is wise of you to think of such things, my dear, as you have no fortune of your own.” He paused a moment and then continued, “Does this mean you have decided to accept Mr. Edgerton?”

Julia swallowed. If she said no, her uncle would be furious and would possibly start making plans to send her off to work as a governess, washing his hands of her. If she said yes, it would be a lie, but it might buy her more time.

“I am still uncertain.”

“What are you uncertain of?” His face began to turn red. “Do you think anyone else wishes to ask for your hand? Do you have prospects I know nothing of?”

“No, of course not. There is only Mr. Edgerton. I believe if he continues to behave the gentleman, as he did at dinner two nights ago, I shall . . . I shall accept him.” Her breathlessness betrayed her nervousness at having to tell the lie.

“He is coming to speak with me in a few minutes. Would you like to sit with him for a bit, to see the fruit of his intentions and his efforts to make his behavior more pleasing?”

Nothing would be more distasteful. “If you wish it, Uncle, of course I shall.”

Mr. Wilhern looked genuinely pleased. “After we finish our meeting, I shall take him to see you in . . . ?”

“The front drawing room.”

He nodded. “Very well, very good.”

Julia took that as her cue to leave. She turned to go, and as she did, she suddenly wanted very much to know what Mr. Edgerton and her uncle might have to talk about. How could she listen in on them without them knowing? Her eye caught on a large wardrobe near the door. If she could conceal herself inside it, she could probably hear every word they said. And then when they left to go to the front drawing room, she could step out and follow them without them seeing her and be just a few seconds behind them.

But it would only work if her uncle left the study before Edgerton came.

Julia walked down the corridor and stepped quietly into the sitting room, which was across the hall and only a few feet from her uncle’s study. Finding a book lying on a table, she picked it up and started reading.

After several minutes, she heard footsteps. Julia approached the doorway and peeked out. Her uncle was walking toward the front of the house. In a moment, she heard masculine voices.

Julia darted into the corridor and scurried in through her uncle’s study door. She opened the large wardrobe, mentally rehearsing what she would say if she were caught, and then stepped inside the piece of furniture.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


Julia squatted underneath the lowest shelf, where she was forced to stand on top of stacks of papers. She balanced herself with her hands against the side and back panels. Her heart pounded and her shallow breathing made her dizzy, but she concentrated on not moving, keeping every muscle taut. Breathe, Julia. Don’t faint.

The roaring in her ears was so loud, she wondered if she would even be able to overhear what her uncle and Hugh Edgerton were saying. She opened the door just a tiny crack and waited.

After a few moments, she heard voices.

“. . . She is softening. I think she can be persuaded.” She recognized her uncle’s voice. “Just don’t get drunk—you know she doesn’t like that. Say something flattering, and for goodness sake, smile at her and don’t look so despondent when you see her.” Her uncle went on. “She has always been a compliant girl, even timid and obedient. I was shocked when she stubbornly refused to give in. But she will accept you, I am sure. And once you are married, use a firm hand with her and she will submit to you. She has not the spirit to defy anyone.”