A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(71)

Just at that moment, Julia’s foot slipped, and she caught herself with her hand, making a slight noise against the side of the wardrobe. Had her uncle heard her? Her heart seemed to stop beating as she waited.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” her uncle said, and their footsteps retreated out of the room.

She waited another moment and then opened the door and stepped out.

“Julia.” Her uncle stood in front of her, his lip curled in an angry smile. “So that is how you found my note.” He grabbed her arms with both hands and drew her forward, within inches of his dark eyes. “Who did you tell about the note? Nicholas Langdon?”

“No, no!” God, forgive me for the lie.

“Did you write it down? Did you write down anything that was in the note?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shall we change our plans?” The man who had met with her uncle was still standing there, and Julia noticed the deep pockmarks on his cheeks.

“No.” Her uncle turned his head to address the pockmarked man but did not loosen his grip on her arms. “It’s more important than ever to kill Langdon tonight.”

“But why?” Julia cried. “He doesn’t know anything. And Phoebe will be heartbroken. She might even do herself harm.”

“She is young and silly,” Mr. Wilhern said harshly. “She’ll fall in love with the first man who smiles at her. We’ve come too far to let you and Langdon ruin all our plans.”

“Please. You do not need to kill Mr. Langdon. He doesn’t know anything. You’ll be found out if you do.”

“If Edgerton were not about to marry you to shut you up, I’d kill you myself. That is how ruthless I am, Julia Grey.” He ground out the last few words through his clenched teeth. “You will not stop us, do you hear?”

He shook her back and forth until her vision grew blurry. When Julia blinked and was able to focus again, she saw he had let go of one of her arms and was holding a knife.

“Go.” He nodded at the pockmarked man. Turning back to Julia, he pressed the point of the knife into her side.

“Let’s go. If you make a sound, I shall stab you and leave you to bleed to death. Edgerton can marry you tomorrow, if you’re still alive.”

Julia could do Mr. Langdon no good if she were dead, so she walked silently while her uncle forced her up the stairs to her room. She saw no one the entire way. He pushed her inside and locked the door from the outside.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


Julia put her hands to her head. If only she had not made that noise and her uncle had not found her. But it did no good to regret that. She had to think. There had to be a way out, or a way to get a message to Mr. Langdon.

She ran to the window. She could always watch and wait for him to pass by and yell out to him. But her uncle could catch her and do harm to Mr. Langdon without waiting until tonight. Besides, he might not walk by at all.

Perhaps Phoebe would find her locked in her room and help her escape. But that was unlikely. Her uncle would have thought of that and was probably at this moment telling Phoebe a lie about Julia. Maybe he was sending Phoebe somewhere on a visit that would keep her out of the house until at least tomorrow. Once he’d had Nicholas murdered and could get Julia officially married to Mr. Edgerton, he’d make sure Julia and Mr. Edgerton were sent far away on their honeymoon, so that Julia could not tell Phoebe anything until much later.

No doubt her uncle had plans to move his family to the Continent as soon as his plot was completed. But what about Wilhern Manor in Warwickshire? Would he abandon it? Nicholas had said her uncle was greatly in debt and would probably lose the estate to creditors.

Julia walked to the door and tried to open it. It was locked, as she knew it would be. Was there a way to open it? Perhaps she could force it open. But with what?

She went back to the window and opened it. Three floors off the ground, she’d be killed or badly injured if she jumped. She couldn’t climb down, as there was nothing on the fa?ade of the building to hold on to.

Perhaps she could get a message to someone.

Quickly, she scribbled a note that read, Please open the door. Julia.

She ran to the door that connected her room with Phoebe’s. They had both agreed, several years before, to keep the door between their rooms locked, for privacy’s sake. The problem was that Phoebe had the only key.

She shoved the note through the crack under Phoebe’s door and then knocked softly.

There was no sound. She knocked again. Still nothing.

Of course her uncle had known she would knock on this door and try to get help from Phoebe.

Julia leaned against the door.

“What are my options,” she said softly to herself. “I can sit here listening for someone to come into Phoebe’s room and then knock on the door and beg them to open it. Or I can wait and listen at the other door, the one to the corridor, and knock on the door when I hear someone walking by. Or I can open the window, call down to whomever is passing by, and hope they will be willing—and able—to come inside and save me.”

The first option seemed unlikely to work, since probably no one would be entering Phoebe’s room. The last option seemed likely to fail, as her uncle would hear her, or would intercept the person coming in to save her. The second option seemed the best of the three.