A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(77)

“You may come and stay with me—with my family, Leorah and my mother. They would be very glad for you to visit.”

“The truth is, I have been accepted as a governess for a family in Suffolk. The Athertons. I will need to travel there right away.”

“A governess?” He was staring at her as if she had just told him she was growing a mermaid’s tail.

“I must provide for myself now.” She felt the heat rise into her cheeks. Of course, he could not be her friend, not now that she would be a governess. She would no longer be in his social class.

“But you are injured. You do not need to go today.”

“I think it is best if I do. My uncle may want revenge against me, and he could possibly try to harm me or the Bartholdys if I stay here. And he or Mr. Edgerton could easily find me at your home. No, I believe I must go.”

“Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

Julia hesitated.

“I shall retrieve your things from your uncle’s house. If you will only give me the name of the place, I shall see that your things are sent there.”

She should probably refuse, since he would have to pay for her trunks to be sent, but she felt intuitively that he would be hurt if she refused. Besides, if he did not help her, she was not sure how it might be done.

“That is so very kind of you. The direction is Suffolk, Donnerly Hall.”

“Did you say Donnerly Hall? The Athertons?”

“Yes.”

“I know them, a little. I shall come and visit you there.”

“Oh no. That would not be proper.”

The expression on his face changed.

“That is, you could not visit a governess. You . . . it is not done.” If he only knew how much it would hurt her to leave him, to think of never seeing him again. But of course, she could never tell him that.

He turned his face away from her. What was he thinking? Julia could not bear to think he was angry with her. Perhaps he was regretting that he could not ask her to marry him. She hoped it was that. But at the same time, she did not want him to feel the pain that was sitting in her chest at that very moment, like a one-hundred-pound bird with its talons digging into her heart.

“I shall very much miss our alliance,” she said, hoping to sound cheerful, “and our secret hiding place in the tree at the park.” She couldn’t help but smile. “And please do say good-bye to Leorah and tell her how sorry I am I cannot take my leave of her myself. I shall miss her spirit and fearlessness.”

Suddenly, he turned to face her. “I shall see you again. When all of this is finished—” He walked closer and knelt in front of her, lifting her injured hand. He caressed it, running his thumb over her knuckles, and then kissed it, his lips warm against her skin.

The air rushed out of her lungs. What bliss it would be to be married to this man. She reached out and touched his hair and then immediately pulled her hand back. But he snatched it and kissed it too, his head bowed over her hands.

Someone was coming. He let go and whispered, “God be with you.” He stood and left the room.

Monsieur and Madame Bartholdy both came into the room.

“What a handsome young man,” Madame Bartholdy said with a smile. “And very honorable.”

“Yes.” Julia pressed the back of her hand to her cheek. Handsome and honorable and utterly wonderful.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


Julia had been at the Athertons’ estate in Suffolk for a few weeks and had not heard from Nicholas Langdon. When she had first arrived, she was afraid the Athertons would refuse her and send her away, if they had heard about her uncle’s treasonous acts against the British crown. But they apparently had not heard and welcomed her with a cold dignity and a bit of relief at having procured a governess at last.

Julia, however, lived in fear that they would hear stories from London that would convince them of her ruined reputation. After a week, Mrs. Atherton called her into her sitting room.

“Miss Grey, it has come to my attention that your uncle, Mr. Wilhern, is suspected of being a spy for the French and has fled the country. Your aunt and cousin are living with relatives now. Is this true?”

“I only know that he is suspected of being a spy.”

The woman stared at her. Finally, she said, “I suppose a girl cannot help her relations. I had been told your reputation was exemplary. You have not been corrupted by your uncle, I hope?”

“No, ma’am. I assure you I have not.”

This seemed to satisfy Mrs. Atherton, and she sent Julia back to the schoolroom.

Now, after three weeks at Donnerly Hall with the Athertons, Julia had settled into a routine. Mornings were filled with teaching her charges reading, writing, and arithmetic—or at least attempting to. Afternoons were for music and language instruction for the older children.

In the evenings Julia was free. She often walked about the extensive grounds of the estate or stayed in her room, reading or doing some other solitary activity. She thought often of Phoebe and prayed that she would not be too miserable and would not despise Julia too much. Julia had rarely ever been without Phoebe’s company, so it was strange not to be able to talk to her or even write to her, since she did not know with whom she was staying.

There was no one else in the house near Julia’s age, except some of the servants. But none of them would speak more than a monosyllable to her—except the children’s nurse, who was at least fifteen years older than Julia and rather coarse in her sentiments and conversation topics. However, Julia was more than willing to overlook some lack of education and niceties simply to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t look at her as if she resented Julia’s slightly higher position, as the other servants did.