A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(69)

Julia gave Felicity a horrified look, and her friend said no more. The tea was brought in, and Phoebe played hostess by moving closer to pass out the tea things.

Phoebe dominated the conversation, and Julia’s thoughts whirled inside her head. She remembered the expression on Leorah’s face, how she had looked almost sad as she had squeezed Julia’s hand. Perhaps she knew how Julia felt about her brother but knew also that her brother couldn’t ask Julia to marry him.

Besides, Julia had a legitimate worry, now that she was getting her strength back and her aunt and uncle were back from Bath. Her uncle would surely insist she marry Mr. Edgerton immediately. In fact, now that Mr. Edgerton had the special license—as she assumed he had already acquired it—her uncle could take her straight to the church on any given day and force her to marry the man at a moment’s notice.

“Don’t you think so, Julia?” Phoebe asked. All three young ladies were staring at her.

“What?”

“The roads to Wilhern Manor. They’re the best roads in that part of England. Leorah and her brother will have no trouble at all traveling to visit us this winter.”

“Oh, certainly, the roads are very good.”

“Julia, should you go back to bed? Are you feeling ill?”

“Oh no, I am well. I think tomorrow I shall be well enough for a short walk.”

“Oh, I shall tell Mother!” Phoebe clapped her hands. “We shall be in Warwickshire very soon, in less than a week, I am sure, and then you shall come and visit us, Leorah. Your brother promised most faithfully.”

“Of course, Phoebe.”

Julia did not miss the conspiratorial smile Leorah sent her way. She hoped Phoebe did not notice it.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT


Julia sat at her desk replying to a letter from Sarah Peck, who was sending her letters through Felicity from her new home.

A knock came at her door. Julia turned to see her uncle entering.

She hastily covered the salutation of her letter with a second sheet of paper.

“Julia. You are nearly well, I see.”

“Good morning, Uncle. I—I have not entirely got my strength back yet. But Dr. Alcott says I should make a full recovery.”

“That is very good news.” But the cold way he eyed her belied his words. “Now that you are better,” he went on, “I trust you are willing for your marriage to Edgerton to take place soon.”

“Of course.” What day? Tell me what day.

“At the moment, Edgerton is away—that is why he did not come to visit you when you were ill—looking into an estate he is thinking of purchasing in Warwickshire.”

Julia feigned a look of pleasure at hearing he was to acquire an estate in the same county as Wilhern Manor.

“Will he return soon?”

“Yes, I daresay. Very soon.”

Good. He would be back in time to be arrested, along with her uncle, for treason.

“When he does return, he will want to marry right away.”

“Yes, I imagine he will.”

Her uncle continued to eye her. He suddenly stepped toward her with a menacing, twisted smile. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her to her feet.

“You showed that paper to Nicholas Langdon, didn’t you?”

Aware of his painful grip on her arm, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind.

He jerked her closer. “Answer me.”

“I don’t know what you are talking of.” She tried to clear her mind of fear, to think coldly and logically. “Uncle, you are hurting me.”

“Don’t play innocent. You are the only one who could have taken it.”

“Taken what?”

He glared at her from eyes as black as night. “I am not a man to be trifled with. I will not allow you or anyone else to get in my way.” He tightened his grip on her arm, squeezing so hard she cried out.

“Be quiet,” he ground out.

Suddenly, her door opened and Phoebe entered without knocking, as she often did.

“Father!” Phoebe cried. “What are you doing?”

Her uncle released her and stepped back. “Nothing at all. Julia and I were only having a discussion about when her marriage to Mr. Edgerton would take place. Isn’t that right, Julia?”

“Yes.” Julia rubbed her arm where her uncle had so cruelly held her.

“Phoebe, leave us for a few more minutes while we finish our discussion.”

“Julia, are you well? Father, what is this?”

“Phoebe, do as you’re told,” he ordered in a harsher tone than Julia had ever heard him use with his daughter. His tone softened a bit as he amended, “You may come back in a few minutes.”

Julia kept her back turned and soon heard the door shut. When she turned around, Phoebe was gone.

Her uncle was glaring at her. “You will not speak a word of this to Phoebe. You will not leave this room until Edgerton returns tomorrow to marry you. And if you do, I shall make you rue it.”

Would he beat her the way he had beaten his horse all those years ago?

But her next thought was, He is afraid. He realized she had taken the incriminating paper, and he had to keep her quiet. Otherwise he never would have threatened her like that. He was afraid, as well he should be, since treason was a crime punishable by death.