A Spy's Devotion (12 page)

“Because of his reputation for gaming? Perhaps that has been exaggerated.”

Julia shook her head at her friend. Felicity was too kindhearted to believe evil about someone without indisputable proof.

“Even if that were so, there is still the matter of his drinking too much. Not only that, but there is something in his eyes that I do not like. You remember what happened at the other ball, where he followed me into that room and made me uncomfortable. I cannot marry him.” Julia was careful to keep her voice down.

“Perhaps he did not intend to make you uncomfortable. But if you do not wish to marry him . . .” Felicity frowned and bit her lip. “Surely your uncle will understand and will not force you.”

“It was almost frightening, the way he accused me of being ungrateful for not marrying the man. He is very set on the idea.” Julia’s heart was starting to pound just thinking about the terrible conversation.

Felicity shook her head and continued chewing on her lip. “Do you think Mr. Edgerton is so very bad? Perhaps you should at least dance with him.”

“I would not have thought he could make you his ally so easily, Felicity. He must have sounded convincing, but I’m afraid I do not wish to be near the man. I cannot marry him, and I could never fall in love with him. You should believe me, for I know it is so.”

“I am sure you are very sensible, Julia, but he spoke of you in the most glowing terms.”

Suddenly, a young man Julia was not acquainted with came and asked Felicity for the next dance. She agreed and excused herself from Julia.

Julia was relieved to see Mr. Langdon escorting Phoebe to the dance. She only hoped Phoebe didn’t get upset over him asking Julia to dance first.

Julia stood near her aunt in an out-of-the-way spot so she could observe the guests without being obvious. Her uncle was no doubt smoking and swapping stories with the other men in another room. Her aunt sat listening to two older women, looking thoroughly bored.

Aunt Wilhern suddenly turned and caught Julia’s eye. “Julia, will you fetch me some lemonade?”

“Of course, Aunt.” Julia hurried to obey her aunt’s request, catching a glimpse of Phoebe’s radiant face as she smiled up at Mr. Langdon.

Julia hurried to the side room where the refreshment table was set up and retrieved the lemonade. As she turned to take it to her aunt, she had to stop to prevent a collision with Mr. Edgerton.

“Miss Grey,” he said in a most intimate-sounding voice. His smile was almost feline, like a cat staring at a mouse.

I am no mouse.
Julia’s spine stiffened. “Excuse me, but you are blocking my way.”

“Forgive me, Miss Grey.” Still he didn’t move. “I have been hoping to speak with you.”

“I do not have the time. I must take this lemonade to my aunt. Excuse me.” Julia did her best to let her voice convey firmness while hiding the fear that rose inside.

Mr. Edgerton took hold of her arm. She couldn’t jerk away or she would spill the cup of lemonade in her hand. He leaned even closer. “I will not let you go, unless you agree to meet me in the courtyard.”

“I will not.” Julia’s voice shook.
How dare he!
Oh Lord, it was starting again. If he could convince her to meet him in the courtyard, he could possibly force her into a compromising situation so that she would be practically forced to marry him. Who could she turn to for help without making a scene and creating gossip?

“Unhand me this instant,” she said as quietly as she could.

“Can’t you see that I adore you? Your uncle has insisted you marry me. Will you defy him?”

“You are no gentleman!” She glanced around to see who might be watching them. No one seemed to pay them any attention. Indeed, few people were in the room besides the servant who had served her the lemonade, but she was sure the maidservant was listening to every word.

Mr. Edgerton only gripped her arm tighter. “You should be reasonable. Nothing good can come of your resistance.”

“Mr. Edgerton, you will unhand me this moment, or I shall call my uncle to defend me.”

He let out a chuckle. “Your uncle is nowhere near. Come with me.” His voice was coaxing as he pulled on her arm, causing the lemonade in her cup to slosh, nearly spilling.

Julia had no choice; she would be forced to throw the lemonade in his face and cause a ruckus the entire party would hear of. But when she tried, his grip was too tight. She could do no more than slosh out a few drops onto the floor.

Her face burning and her breath coming in hollow gasps, Julia said, “I will never meet you, in the courtyard or anywhere else. You are a fiend, and if you do not let go—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Edgerton.” Mr. Langdon strode quickly to her side. “But you are detaining my dance partner.” Mr. Langdon gave Mr. Edgerton a withering look, his jaw twitching.

Mr. Edgerton let go of Julia’s arm. Mr. Langdon took the cup of lemonade from her hand and calmly set it on the table. He held out his arm to her and led her away from the red-faced Mr. Edgerton.

They arrived on the dance floor just as the music started, and Julia blinked the traces of tears from her eyes to see Mr. Langdon’s face. His brows were lowered and his jaw set in a rock-hard line. Then, as they began to engage in the steps of the dance, his expression softened. “Are you all right, Miss Grey?”

“Yes, I thank you.” She mustn’t think about how grateful she was to Mr. Langdon or she might cry. Instead, she concentrated on her anger and loathing for Mr. Edgerton.

A lady never showed emotion at a public gathering. How many times had she lectured Phoebe on this very matter? But Phoebe never had to worry about men like Mr. Edgerton trying to force her to meet him in the courtyard, or her father trying to force her to marry someone she could not love.

Oh dear Lord!

It suddenly hit her like a boulder against her chest—Mr. Langdon had already danced with her! She was dancing with him for the second time that night.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Julia’s panic rose. Mr. Langdon never danced with anyone a second time. Everyone would see. Julia’s aunt, Phoebe, and everyone else would say he was singling her out. The gossip would spread from one end of the party to the other by the end of the dance.

Julia glanced around her. Was she imagining it, or was everyone staring at them and whispering?

And she had forgotten about her aunt’s lemonade. There Aunt Wilhern sat, scowling darker than anything Julia had seen before. Nearby, Phoebe watched them, a stricken look on her face.

Oh, this couldn’t be happening. It must be a nightmare. She had dreamed this nightmarish moment before. It must be a dream.

But there was Mr. Langdon looking down at her with a strange expression on his face. She could feel the warmth of his fingers as he took her hand and guided her through the steps of the dance.

Should she run away? No, that would draw even more attention to the two of them. Was it possible that Mr. Langdon didn’t realize what he had done? He had made her the object of all his admirers’ jealousy, not to mention drawing speculation from every woman, young and old, in the room. But that would be nothing, was nothing, compared to what her cousin and aunt must be thinking, how hurt Phoebe must feel, hurt and betrayed.

Oh, the tears that would flow tonight. How the Wilherns would hate her.

“If I may ask,” Mr. Langdon said quietly as they waited for their turn in the round, “what was Mr. Edgerton saying to you?”

Must she repeat that horrible man’s words? “He was . . . he was being most ungentlemanly.” She would remain dignified and only state the facts. She must pretend a coolness she didn’t feel. “I have made it quite clear to Mr. Edgerton that I do not wish to accept his advances, but he actually laid a hand on me in a most ill-mannered way and insisted I go out to the courtyard with him. I am afraid I shall have to tell my uncle about his behavior.”

Of course, she wasn’t at all sure she would mention the incident to her uncle. She was almost as afraid of her uncle as she was of Mr. Edgerton, and Mr. Langdon might not even believe that she was entirely innocent in the matter. But for the moment, she must remember that she was in a public place, with a man her cousin was violently in love with. She must behave with cool decorum until she could finish this dance and plaster herself to Felicity’s side for the rest of the ball.

“You should tell your uncle about Edgerton’s behavior. I shall speak to him as well. And if he troubles you again, I wish you to tell me.”

If they had been alone, or walking down the street toward the Bartholdys’, she might have said, “You, Mr. Langdon?” in a teasing tone. But as she was, at the moment, trapped in a second dance with the much-desired Mr. Langdon, with Mrs. Wilhern and Phoebe looking at her as if she had just dashed Phoebe’s only hope for love and happiness, she set her face and eyes straight ahead and said woodenly, “You are very kind.”

During another lull in the dance, he asked, “Are you well, Miss Grey? You look pale.”

Perhaps he still didn’t realize. “Do you not know what everyone is whispering? I was too distracted at first to realize, but you already danced with me earlier, Mr. Langdon. You are dancing with me a second time.”

She half expected him to look startled, to be shocked at his blunder. But instead, he smiled. “Are you worried about that? Does it bother you so much?” She feared he would laugh out loud.

“Well, I—” She couldn’t very well say, “Phoebe will be heartbroken, and everyone will be gossiping that you intend to marry me!” Although it was the truth. “I didn’t know . . . you were aware . . .”

“I suppose the gossips will be speculating on our upcoming nuptials. Forgive me if I’ve put you in an awkward position, Miss Grey.” At least he finally realized the seriousness of what he had done.

At the end of the dance, Mr. Langdon thanked her, bowed to her with a tiny frown, and walked away. Was he angry with her? No, he probably regretted having danced with her a second time to get her away from Mr. Edgerton.

Julia nervously scanned the room for Phoebe. Her gaze flew to where Mrs. Wilhern had been sitting, but she was standing and walking away. Where was she going? Would Julia be left at the dance all alone, abandoned?

Nicholas had thought Miss Grey would be flattered that he was dancing with her a second time. She would realize how fond he was of her. He had half expected her to blush and look pleased. He
wanted
her to blush and look pleased.

Instead, she’d been horrified.

He could hardly blame her. It was rather thoughtless and indiscreet of him. He never danced with a lady more than once at a ball. It was not wise to do so, to create gossip and speculation, or false expectation in the lady. But her horror was quite extreme. Was there someone else whose attentions she wanted to claim? Or perhaps she was only afraid of upsetting her cousin Miss Wilhern.

He had been glad to save her from Edgerton, and asking her to dance was the first excuse he thought of for extricating her. If there was anything that excited his anger, it was a gentleman trying to take advantage of a lady.

Edgerton had become dissolute, given to gaming and dissipation since he left school. It made Nicholas’s blood boil to see Edgerton holding Miss Grey’s arm and speaking to her in that intimidating manner. It would have made him angry to see any gently bred girl treated that way, but Miss Grey . . .

He had wanted to tear Edgerton apart.

He admired the way Miss Grey cared about her old tutor, Monsieur Bartholdy, how devoted she was to her cousin, as well as the kindness she showed Henry. He even had a notion that she had begun to admire him as well. Perhaps he had been mistaken. Besides, as long as he was investigating her uncle, who seemed very likely to be involved in something nefarious, possibly even high treason, he should not think of Miss Grey as a possible marriage partner. It was foolish in the best of circumstances, since neither of them had any fortune.

He watched Miss Grey walk toward her friend, Miss Mayson. The two young ladies stood talking, their heads close together. What was she telling her? About her horror at Edgerton’s overbearing conduct toward her? Or her fear of the gossipmongers who saw Nicholas dance with her a second time?

Just then, Edgerton caught his attention. The man was leaning against the wall, coolly staring at Miss Grey and Miss Mayson.

Nicholas strode over to Edgerton. “What do you think you were doing in there, treating a lady that way?”

Edgerton curled his lip in a sneer. “Do you mean Miss Grey? She is soon to be my wife. I may treat her any way I wish.”

“What do you mean? Has she accepted your proposal of marriage?” Nicholas said.

“No, but she will. Her uncle, Wilhern, will persuade her to accept me.”

“Why would her uncle do that?” Heat bubbled in the pit of his stomach. What kind of man forced his ward to marry someone she did not wish to? Oh, he knew it was done in order to secure a fortune and to improve a family’s prospects, but why Edgerton? He did not have a large fortune, and his debts were enormous.

Edgerton feigned a shocked expression. “Do you not think it is the most advantageous match Miss Grey could make? For an orphan of no fortune? Her uncle simply wants what is best for her. And why do you want to know, Langdon? Do you have designs on her yourself?”

“You once told me your father would never sanction any bride who doesn’t bring a substantial fortune. Why would your father allow you to marry Miss Grey?”

“Perhaps Wilhern is willing to give me a large sum if I marry her and save her from the terrible fate of becoming a governess.”

That didn’t seem likely, not after the way Miss Grey’s aunt had spoken of her.

“Then why grab her and manhandle her the way you did just now?”

Edgerton opened his mouth and then closed it, glancing down as if examining the toe of his boot. “I don’t know. I . . . I wanted to speak to her alone, but she refused to go to the courtyard with me. The truth is, Nicholas, I do love the girl.” He looked up and grimaced. “I’m sorry if I upset her, truthfully. I have never been very good at wooing. I intend to marry her, but she doesn’t quite fancy me yet.”

Nicholas debated with himself what to say to Edgerton, whether to believe he was sincere. Finally he said, “She will never fancy you if you treat her in such a way.” His stomach sank at the thought of poor Miss Grey trying to make herself love a man like Edgerton simply to please her uncle and avoid becoming a governess. “But if you ever treat her in that reprehensible way again . . . she is a friend of my sister’s, and, as such, you are never to go near her again unless you are sober and ready to treat her like the lady that she is.”

Edgerton looked askance at him. Finally, he used his elbow to push himself off the wall. “Very well, I shall take your advice. Any other tips you might have to make her want to marry me?”

Nicholas clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to be giving Edgerton pointers on how to woo Miss Grey. He still wanted to punch him in the face. “No.”

Miss Grey still stood talking with Miss Mayson. Had Nicholas harmed her situation with her family, with her aunt and uncle and cousin, by dancing with her twice in one evening? Though he hated Edgerton for pointing it out, Miss Grey probably was a bit desperate to avoid becoming a governess. But would she be desperate enough to marry Edgerton?

Either way, Nicholas could not help trying to see that she would get home safely. There was something almost sinister about the way her guardians, the Wilherns, treated her.

Nicholas had no desire to dance anymore that night, but while Miss Grey spoke with her friend, he turned and asked the first girl he saw, pasting a smile on his face and vowing that no one would say he favored Miss Grey or was paying her undue attention.