“It will make me feel better,” Alec said, his brow low.
“Yes, but it may make things much worse for Julia.”
Alec’s scowl deepened.
Lucien sighed, recognizing the mulish expression. “Allow me to point out a few things. Unless you kill the man, he will write another article. Maybe something about the violent tendencies of the nobility, accompanied by a nice drawing of a snarling Viscount Hunterston pummeling the innocent author.”
“I don’t give a damn what that cretin writes about me,” Alec said tersely. A heavy coach pulled in front of them and slowed their pace to a near walk.
As Alec cursed, Lucien pulled a cheroot from his pocket and rolled it between forefinger and thumb. He sniffed it appreciatively and cast a sidelong glance at his companion. “If you don’t care what Mr. Everard writes, why are we enroute to visit him?”
“Because he besmirched—” Alec broke off, controlling himself with an obvious effort. “It doesn’t matter. He will not be writing such lies again.”
Ah, so they rode to protect the lady’s honor, did they? Lucien grinned and wondered how much of Alec’s anger was due to pride, and how much was the cause of a deeper, more serious emotion. He suspected Alec felt much more strongly about his unconventional wife than he realized.
The phaeton pulled up in front of the seedy offices that housed the Morning Post. Lucien took the reins while Alec strode inside, returning a short time later holding a torn and bloodied scrap of paper, a hastily scribbled address scrawled across one corner.
Lucien noted the scrape on Alec’s knuckles. “Any problems?”
Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Alec wrapped it around his hand, a dab of blood staining the fine linen. “No. They were amazingly helpful.”
“How fortunate.”
Alec nodded. “For them.”
Lucien did not vouchsafe a reply. In Alec’s current mood, any answer was sure to set off his barely held temper. In mutual silence, they proceeded to No. 10 Laura Street.
Climbing down from the perch, Alec tossed Lucien the reins. “I will not be long.”
“Shall I accompany you?”
“No,” Alec answered curtly. “This is a private matter between me and Mr. Everard.”
Lucien nodded and watched his friend disappear up a narrow stair. Never had he seen Alec so concerned about the opinions of others. Indeed, these last few months had rendered an amazing change that was especially obvious when Alec was with Julia. The very air seemed to crackle with contention.
Chuckling, Lucien lit his cheroot, pulled his hat low, and considered the faded door where his friend had disappeared. All told, it was very amusing.
Half an hour later, Alec returned, slightly mussed, but intact. Despite the fact that a scrape marred his jaw and his chin sported a swollen lump, he appeared remarkably satisfied.
“I see Mr. Everard made an impression,” Lucien remarked dryly, gathering the reins.
A lopsided smile curved Alec’s bruised mouth, though it did not reach his eyes. “Not near the impression I left on him.”
“Did he mention where he received such erroneous information?”
Alec gave a nod, his eyes shadowed. “Nick.”
“Of course.” Lucien set the phaeton in motion. “I thought I detected your nefarious cousin’s hand. How did he manage to work his evil this time? Bribery? Blackmail?”
“Nick purchased Mr. Everard’s vowels from a certain gaming establishment. Almost a thousand pounds worth.”
“How unfortunate for Mr. Everard.”
Alec scowled. “He has dealt with Nick before. Apparently Mr. Everard writes the society news, as well. Nick has used his services to discredit his enemies.”
“Bloody hell! You were right about Nick; he is an underhanded villain.” Lucien pulled the team to a halt to allow a nursemaid walking her charges across the street. “What do you intend to do now?”
“Mr. Everard will be writing a retraction article,” Alec said with a grim smile.
“It will be too little, too late.”
“Besides writing a public apology, Mr. Everard has agreed to attend the meeting of the executors tomorrow to report his entire commerce with Nick.”
Lucien frowned and set the phaeton in motion once again. “Perhaps we should bring him with us now, in case he changes his mind.”
“And do what? Hold him prisoner in the cellar? Only imagine how that would look if it ever came to the attention of the executors.”
Heaving a sigh, Lucien nodded. “I suppose you are right. Such an escapade is bound to come to light.”
Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note. “Therefore, I had him write me a vowel for two thousand pounds.”
“And now he owes you more than he owes Nick.” Lucien grinned as he tooled the carriage along. “Very good, Alec.”
“Debtors’ prison can be a powerful inducement, especially for something as simple as the truth.”
“I would flee the country to escape the hands of both of you.”
“I have agreed to pay all his debts if he will tell the truth at the executors’ meeting. He can start with a clean slate. I think he was relieved at the idea of being free from Nick.”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
Alec nodded. “Now the only issue left to resolve is that of my cousin.” A dangerous gleam lit the silver eyes.
The sight made Lucien uneasy. “Alec, perhaps you should leave well enough alone. At least until after the meeting tomorrow.”
“What I do depends on Julia.” Alec clenched his hand into a fist in his pocket, oblivious to the sting of his battered knuckles. “From now on, she will set the course.”
“Julia? But why?”
“She is in love with Nick.” The words settled around him like noxious ash.
“What?”
“Damn it, do not ask me to say it again.” He wasn’t sure he could.
Lucien edged the phaeton around a mail coach lumbering down the street, his brows low. “Surely you are mistaken.”
“She practically confessed it.”
“But I would have sworn—” Lucien broke off, casting an uncertain glance his way. “What do you mean, she practically confessed?”
“Some time ago, Julia told me she had been in love for a long time—almost four years. That is exactly the length of time she has known Nick. She even remembers the first time she saw him.”
“I cannot believe it.”
“If you had seen her face, you would know.” Alec would never forget Julia’s dreamy expression. It was permanently burned into his mind.
“You are wrong. She could have met any number of people four years ago, and—”
“It is Nick, I’m sure of it. I wish to God it were not true.” Alec raked an impatient hand through his hair. “Lucien, think. Julia gathers people to her. Not perfect people, but broken ones.”
A thoughtful look crossed Lucien’s face. “Like Muck and Desiree.”
Suddenly tired, Alec leaned back against the squabs. “People like Nick. To a reformer, he must seem irresistible.”
Lucien frowned. “Do you think she honestly believes she can reform him?”
“My wife is an eternal optimist. She believes anything is possible.”
After a long silence, Lucien shot him a concerned glance. “What will you do?”
Alec couldn’t allow himself to even think about what he really wanted to do. Watching her white face as she read that damnable newspaper article had been the most agonizing moment of his life. Alec had felt her pain as clearly as if it had been his own, and his anger had risen against the person who had dared harm her. No matter Julia’s feelings for Nick or anyone else, she was his wife, and he would protect her.
The fact that she had not trusted him to find a way clear of this difficulty, but had immediately latched onto Edmund’s suggestion to lay the problem in Lady Birlington’s lap, had infuriated Alec all the more.
“She is my wife, Lucien. I will not let her go.”
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Lucien regarded him for a long moment before turning back to the road. “I’m still not convinced she cares for Nick any more than she does her other projects, but you know her better than I.” He sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps, in time, she will forget him.”
Alec did not answer. Julia was not a woman to love lightly. She valued her heart more than that.
The problem was, he was beginning to think he did, too.
“Will ye be wantin’ me any time soon, my lady?” Johnston asked.
Julia shook her head. “I will be with Lady Birlington for several hours. You may return at two.”
She turned to go up the long walk just as two fashionably dressed women descended Maddie’s steps. She vaguely remembered the chubby, sour-faced woman as Lady Harrington. The young woman following in her wake bore such a striking resemblance, Julia knew it must be her daughter.
Noses in the air, eyes straight ahead, they sailed past Julia as if she were invisible.
Lady Harrington said in a sneering voice, “Of course, Eveline, it is exactly what one would expect from such a pretentious snippet. She should have stayed with the chaperones, where she belonged.”
The daughter replied with a titter, “I’d say the Devil got his due, wouldn’t you?”
Amid a flurry of gaiety, they climbed into their carriage. Julia had known it would be uncomfortable to be ridiculed, but part of her quivered at the harsh laughter.
From behind her, Johnston cleared his throat. “Mistress, for what it’s worth, I believe ye and the master have done right by Miss Desiree.”
Julia turned in surprise. “Why, thank you, Johnston.”
“She may not be the brightest, but there’s not a parcel of harm to her. As to what other people think,” he scowled in the direction the carriage had disappeared, “don’t ye worry none ’bout them. The good ones’ll stay by ye through thick and thin, and as fer the rest—well, ye didn’t need them anyways.”
“Thank you, Johnston. It is very kind of you to say so,” Julia replied, choked with emotion.
The door opened again and this time a solitary figure emerged—a young woman dressed in green silk, a gypsy bonnet perched on her fashionably coifed curls, and a painted silk scarf tied under her chin in a rakish bow. Yet despite her lively attire, the woman’s pleasant features were marred by a beaky, prominent nose that gave her an air of hawkish intensity. On seeing Julia, she hesitated before continuing down the walk.
Julia’s step faltered. Lady Burton. At the Society meetings, Lord Burton rarely spoke of his wife except to mention her social aspirations in a voice of great weariness.
She suddenly realized the article in this morning’s paper had exposed her in more ways than one. Once the Board members realized she had hidden her marriage and was their “anonymous” donor, they would be hurt at her deception.
Julia was so wrapped up in her depressing thoughts that Lady Burton’s bow caught her unawares.
“Lady Hunterston, what a pleasure. The Dowager Duchess of Roth cannot say enough about your kindness in assisting with the ball this evening. It should be a great success.”
The charity ball. Julia almost groaned. She had forgotten all about it in the events of the morning. She forced herself to return Lady Burton’s smile. “I hope you will be attending.”
“Of course! I only hope I can persuade Lord Burton to come with me.” To Julia’s surprise, a twinkle lit the woman’s gray eyes. “But you know how he is, almost a hermit. I don’t think he’d even go out of doors if it weren’t for his charity work.”
Julia managed a smile. “Lord Burton has been very supportive of the Society. He frequently mentions you, too. He says you have quite a flair for organizing things.”
Lady Burton’s cheeks suffused with pink, a pleased smile curving her lips and softening her whole face. “Has he, indeed? I shall have to thank him for his kind words when I return home.” She placed her gloved hand on Julia’s arm. “Don’t let that article from this morning upset you, my dear. Trust Burton and the others to set things to right. They were already discussing it when I left.”
Hope swelled in Julia’s heart until she remembered Lord Kennybrook’s insistence that they start a sausage factory. They were dear old gentlemen, but hardly capable of assisting her at this juncture. Still, she managed a smile. “They are too kind.”
“As are you, Lady Hunterston. Well, I must be off. I look forward to seeing you this evening.” With a bow, Lady Burton departed.
Moments later, Julia followed the tall, thin butler into the morning room where Maddie sat by the fire, a blue cashmere shawl draped over her lap. Ephram snored gently on a pillow by her feet as she absently rubbed his stomach with a slippered foot.
She gave an exclamation on seeing Julia. “There you are! Wondered when you’d arrive. Lovett, if anyone else comes, tell them I am out.”
“Yes, madam.” Bowing, the butler softly closed the door.
Julia crossed to sit on the settee facing Maddie. “I suppose Edmund has already told you.”
“The fool came bursting into my dressing room this morning and demanded to know what’s to be done.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The same thing I’m going to tell you,” the old lady said peevishly. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Julia’s heart sank. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she had counted on Aunt Maddie repairing the damage.
Maddie regarded her with a narrow look. “Have you been cut yet?”
“Just outside your house. Lady Harrington and her daughter.”
A stain of angry color rose over Maddie’s cheeks. “Of all the nerve! And that woman, positively reeking of the shop. She is the daughter of some cit, you know. They say he is nothing but a merchant from Birmingham, but I never listen to gossip.”
“She has always been very pleasant before.”
“Ha! She’s a buffoon. Insists on visiting me, but I always have Lovett tell her I’m out. They say Harrington only married the old hag to escape debtors’ prison. For my part, I’d prefer prison.”
Julia had to smile. “You would not prefer prison. You complain when your sheets aren’t ironed. I can’t imagine what you’d do without sheets.”
“I could get used to it quicker than having to converse with that half-wit and her pasty-faced daughter. Makes me bilious just thinking about it.”
Ephram growled in his sleep, his little paws twitching. Maddie reached over and scratched his ear until he began to snore. “All the fault of that blasted paper,” she grumbled. “I wrote them first thing this morning and canceled my subscription. That should set them straight.”
“I don’t think it’s the paper’s fault.”
“Who’s fault could it be?”
Julia had thought of nothing else on her way here and it was painfully clear. “Nick. It sounds exactly like something he would do. And my handing out all those cards only made it look worse.” Julia sighed. “I should have listened to Alec.”
“Pshaw. Alec’s in no better case. He caused quite a ruckus at White’s last night, without any help from you, I might add.”
“Last night?”
“He got in a brawl with Nick right in the middle of the card room. It’s a wonder they didn’t blackball the both of them.”
“Alec was in a frightful mood when he returned this morning.”
“I daresay.” Maddie’s sharp gaze rested on Julia’s face. “So? Did he like the pink silk?”
Julia felt her blush all the way to her toes. “Yes. At least, I think he did. He got all red in the face and then left.”
“Ran like a coward, eh?” Maddie nodded with satisfaction. “That’s a good sign. A pity that dratted article appeared this morning.”
It was more than a pity, Julia thought miserably. It was a tragedy of Greek proportions. “Alec was furious.”
“Surely not with you? Nick is the one he should be shouting at.”
Julia picked up one of the decorat
ive pillows from the settee and hugged it to her. “I didn’t mention my suspicions about Nick because I feared Alec might search him out and they would come to blows.”
“Or worse. I never saw two men more determined to make cakes of themselves, and Nick has too much experience with dueling to make one comfortable.”
Julia traced a flower embroidered on the pillow cover. “I wish there were some way we could fix this.”
“Oh, we shall come about,” Maddie said, adjusting her shawl so that the bottom fringe covered her toes. “Never fear.”
“But you said there was nothing to be done.”
“No, I didn’t,” the old woman said testily. “I said you should do nothing. That is not the same thing.”
Julia set the pillow aside. “I don’t suppose you’d care to explain?”
Maddie heaved an exasperated sigh. “Pray, pay attention! It is quite simple, really. You simply go about your business as if nothing has occurred.”
“But everyone knows what has happened.”
“Of course they do; they will talk of nothing else all day. The next question is how you will react.”
“And how will I react?”
“Like a princess, my dear. Refuse to acknowledge the event in any way. Act as if that newspaper is exactly what it is: a scurrilous publication that prints nothing but lies.”
“That seems easy enough.”
“Oh, no.” The old woman’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed in warning. “It will take all the nerve you’ve got and a little more, for there are bound to be a few awkward moments.”
“I’m getting good at those,” Julia said glumly.
Maddie’s mouth twitched into a smile. “The Dowager said tonight’s charity ball will be a shocking squeeze. We couldn’t ask for a finer opportunity to put a damper on the whole mess.”
“I certainly hope we can pull this off. Alec promised his grandfather he would keep the fortune away from Nick.”
“Leave it to me.” Maddie rubbed Ephram’s stomach with the toe of her shoe. “I’ll call on Almira this morning and ask for her help. If she comes out in our corner, we need have no fear. Everyone will follow her lead.”
Julia’s shoulders sagged. “The Dowager may not wish to assist me. The newspaper article was quite explicit.”