A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(87)

No, it was too bold. He would think her improper. She would give him the safe letter and save herself the embarrassment of having said too much.

She signed the second letter and folded it, writing Mr. Nicholas Langdon on the outside, just as a piece of paper slid under her door and scooted across the floor at her. She walked over and picked it up, unfolding it and reading:



Miss Grey,

Please do me the honor of meeting me in the garden in the morning at nine o’clock. I must speak with you. I greatly regret not being able to speak with you this afternoon, but I was inexorably detained for half an hour by two different people, and when I knocked on your door, there was no answer. Forgive me for my boldness, but I beg you not to leave for your new position without giving me the opportunity to speak with you.

Your humble and obedient servant,

Nicholas Langdon



Her heart skipped a few beats at the urgent tone of his letter. But she would be gone well before nine o’clock in the morning. She could not possibly meet him. Mrs. Atherton had ordered the carriage to take her away at dawn.

Perhaps she could find a way to speak with him tonight at the ball. Mrs. Atherton might be furious, but it might be worth it to dance with Nicholas Langdon one last time.

Yes, that was exactly what she would do.

Julia went and dug through her trunk until she found her best ball dress, the blue silk trimmed in silver embroidery. She pulled it out. The puff sleeves were a bit wrinkled, and the lace collar was not standing up as it should, but it would look well enough after she put it on and fluffed it a bit.

Already she could hear people laughing downstairs. Did she have the boldness to do this? To go down and join the ball as if she were just another guest? Perhaps she would not be able to speak to Mr. Langdon even if she did go to the ball. If that were the case, Julia could slip the letter—the safe one—under his door tonight, before she went to the ball. He would surely see it when he went back to his room, and if he still wished to speak with her, he could find her before she left. After all, the ball would last almost until dawn.

But she didn’t know which room belonged to him.

She quickly put on the ball gown, which took longer to do by herself, and then hurried out of her room, down the back stairs to the kitchen, and found the scullery maid, Ellie, shoving firewood into the large stove. Cook was barking orders, sending the various other servants scurrying. No one was idle; everyone looked intent and red faced as they scurried about in the heat of the basement kitchen.

How would she get Ellie’s attention?

Julia watched and waited for Ellie to come into the hall. She heard Cook order the maid to help wash some vegetables. When she finished that task, she sent Ellie to make sure the fire in the music room was burning high.

As Ellie was hurrying past her with a basket of coal, Julia followed behind. “Ellie, will you do something for me if I promise to help you with your work?”

“I’m afraid I can’t at the moment, Miss Grey.” She continued her brisk pace without even looking back. “Cook and Mrs. Farnsworth would have my head if I stopped the slightest moment tonight, what with all the company in the house and the ball tonight and all the work that has to be done. And it wouldn’t be proper for you to do my work. I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t stop for even a moment.” And she didn’t stop as she hurried into the music room, Julia on her heels.

“But all I need is to know”—Julia lowered her voice so no one else would hear—“which room belongs to Mr. Langdon.”

Ellie knelt in front of the fireplace in the music room and refilled the coal grate. “He’s in the room at the top of the stairs, second door to the left.”

“Is that the main stairs or the back stairs?”

Ellie was already hurrying out of the room and headed back toward the kitchen. “Come back after the ball starts and I’ll show you.”

“Oh, thank you, Ellie.” Julia went back up to her room to dress her hair.

When she heard the music begin to play, she crept back downstairs to look for Ellie. On her way to the kitchen, she spotted movement in a darkened alcove.

Julia stopped and plastered herself against the wall, hoping whoever was there would leave. Gradually two people came into focus, locked in an intimate embrace. A throaty, feminine laugh came to her just as the two broke apart, and Julia recognized Mrs. Tromburg and Mr. Edgerton.

Julia held her breath, hoping they wouldn’t see her. Mr. Edgerton whispered something in Mrs. Tromburg’s ear, and then they turned and walked down the corridor away from Julia.

Mr. Edgerton and Mrs. Tromburg? It hardly concerned Julia. She only had to find Ellie. At least perhaps this meant Mr. Edgerton would leave Julia alone tonight.

It took several minutes, but Julia finally found Ellie, a grim and tired expression on her face. She was holding a long, lit candle in her hand. As soon as she saw Julia, she said, “Help me light the sconces upstairs?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Come with me.”

Julia followed her up the stairs, three flights from the basement, and Ellie pointed to a door. “That’s Mr. Langdon’s room.”

“Thank you, Ellie. I am very grateful to you.”

“Here.” Ellie handed her the lit candle. “Light all the sconces on this floor and I’m much obliged to you, Miss Grey. And I will miss you when you’re gone. Yours was the kindest, prettiest face one was likely to encounter in this house.”