The Abduction of Julia (16 page)

Yet to see the Frant Dragon with her arms about the thin body, her face warm with reassurance, one would believe the child a prince at the very least. She seemed not to notice the ugliness or grime. Instead, she gazed at the child with a gentle smile that belonged on a painting of a
madonna
.

It was the most remarkable thing Nick had ever beheld.

“Good God! What is that?” Resplendent in orange velvet, Lady Birlington stepped from the library and cleared a path through the crowd that had gathered.

Julia rose to her feet, one hand firmly grasping the child’s. “Lady Birlington, I would like you to meet Muck. He will be going home with us.”

“
What
?‘
exclaimed both the sweep and Lady Birlington at the same time.

“Ye can’t do that!” said the sweep angrily.
“ ‘E’s
mine!”

Maddie stared down her hooked nose at the ragged child. “I won’t have that filthy child in my carriage, Julia. Ephram is sensitive to odors.”

“Madam!
This man is a sweep and he cruelly misuses the boy. Just look at the bruises on the child’s face. We must rescue him.”

Maddie’s mouth pursed in a frown.
“I daresay he fell down the steps or some such thing. But it does not matter. The child cannot go with us, and that is that. Come now—we have much to do.”

It was obvious Lady Birlington expected immediate acquiescence. It was equally obvious Julia was not going to give one inch. Hugely amused, Nick noted that the crowd had grown. He couldn’t remember when he had been so diverted.

“Julia, we must leave,” Maddie repeated sharply. “The boy is none of your concern.”

Maddie’s censorship encouraged the sweep to new boldness. He grasped Muck’s bony arm with both hands and pulled. “Aye, listen to the
ol‘ crow
. Muck is none o’ yer concern.”

Maddie’s cane cracked on the sidewalk, her frosty blue gaze pinioning the hapless sweep. “
What
did you call me?”

Nick stifled a laugh at how quickly the sweep let go of the boy’s arm. The full force of Mad Maddie’s gaze had made crown princes sweat beneath their corsets. He imagined that the force of that gaze on the sweep was nothing less than astounding.

“B-
beggin‘ yer
pardon, missus, but I paid a fiver fer the boy, and…” The thought of the lost five pounds seemed to imbue the sweep with courage, for he straightened his shoulders. “I’m not leavin’ wit’out ‘im.”

Maddie’s face reddened until it matched her wig.
“You landless jackanapes!
Is that the way you speak to your betters?” She turned her gaze to Edmund, who stood beside her, a stack of books under one arm, her wheezing pug under the other.
“Edmund!
Did you hear what this person called me?”

Edmund swallowed and shot a nervous glance at the burly sweep. “Ah, yes, Aunt Maddie, but, ah… I don’t think he… he did pay for the child, so surely—”

“Demme, that’s not the point,” Maddie said. She gestured with her cane. “That ignorant fool called me a
crow!
An
old
crow!”

“That doesn’t matter!” Julia exclaimed, eyes flashing. “What matters is the child. If it bothers Ephram to sit in the carriage with Muck, then he and I will ride beside the coachman.”

Nick lifted his quizzing glass to regard Julia. By God, she was magnificent. Here was Therese’s incredible beauty touched with something else, something warm and alive.

Edmund’s weak chin dropped. “Dash it, Julia. You can’t ride with the coachman; bound to attract attention. People’d stare.”

Maddie smacked the tip of her cane on the sidewalk. “Forget the child! That hurly-burly man called me an old crow and I demand satisfaction!”

Her nephew gawked. “Surely you don’t expect me to call him out? You can’t have a duel with a chimney sweep.”

A martial light entered Maddie’s brilliant blue eyes.
“Why not?”

“It’s not done, is all.” Edmund’s miserable gaze fell on Nick. “Bridgeton! For the love of God, tell her it isn’t done.”

Nick was hard pressed not to laugh aloud, but he managed to assume an expression of serious consideration. “You are quite right, Edmund. It is never done.” Edmund relaxed and Nick continued relentlessly, “At least not in England. I believe, however, there is some precedence for such matters in Italy.
Especially if the honor of a woman is concerned.”

Edmund looked like a fish gasping for air.

‘There
,“
said Maddie with a satisfied nod. ”I don’t usually hold with Italian manners, but that makes more sense than your namby-pamby English rules, Edmund. Now challenge the man. Julia and I have an appointment at eleven with Madame Rousard for her final fitting
.“

“B-but… I, ah, don’t have my gloves.” Edmund looked relieved. “I left them in the carriage.”

“What do you need gloves for? Just challenge the man and be done with it. Julia and I haven’t got all day.”

Edmund gulped, then whispered loudly, “But look at him! He’s filthy.”

Maddie eyed the sweep, her gaze lingering on the dirt and mire.

The sweep’s brows knit in confusion. “Pardon me, missus, but—”

“Stay out of this,” Maddie said with an impatient gesture. “We have to decide what to do.”

“Edmund may borrow my gloves,” said Nick smoothly, holding out his own.

Maddie nodded her approval. “There!
Very good of you, Bridgeton.”

Edmund shot him a dark look and mumbled, “I can do without your help.”

“Can you?” Nick replied with a gentle smile. “And here I was going to offer to be your second.”

“Capital!” Maddie turned to her hapless nephew. “What are you waiting for?”

Edmund sighed and deposited his burdens on the sidewalk. With a disgusted glare at Nick, he took the proffered glove and walked up to the bemused sweep.

“Sorry, old chap,” said Edmund, offering an apologetic grimace. Holding the glove in one hand, he gently slapped the man across the cheek. “I challenge y—”

The sweep punched Edmund in the nose, and the plump young man toppled head over heels into the street.

“Lud!”
Maddie exclaimed.

Julia pressed Muck’s hand into Nick’s, stepped up to the sweep, and delivered her own punch. As quick as it was, Nick had to admit she had excellent form, her feet widely stationed, her whole arm behind the hit.

The sweep, caught unaware, staggered backward, tripped over the curb, and fell heavily to the ground.

“Gor’," cooed the child. Nick looked down at Muck’s filthy hand and suppressed a shudder.

Julia gathered her skirts and stepped across the loudly moaning sweep to where Edmund lay.

“Did you see what that fellow did to me?” Edmund allowed Julia to help him up, blood flowing from his nose and onto his cravat.

Maddie turned a furious gaze on the sweep,
who
was gingerly clambering to his feet.
“You insolent cur!
You have just attacked the only son of the Earl of Littleton! Your head will rest on the pikes at Tyburn for this!”

“But he punched me first,” protested the sweep, his eyes wild.

Julia handed a handkerchief to Edmund and retrieved Muck’s hand. “Perhaps we should send someone for the constable.” She glared at the sweep. “I’m sure he has broken some sort of law treating a child in such a way.”

The sweep cast an uneasy glance at the gathering crowd. “I didn’t do
nofin‘ to
’im. I only wants what’s
comin‘ to
me. That lil’ monkey is mine.”

“No, he is not,” Maddie said in a freezing voice. She looked down her prominent nose at the sweep. “You are not fit to associate with children.”

“But who will I git to clean the chimneys?” asked the sweep with a cautious glance at Julia. “I paid fer ‘im, I did, and I
wants
’im back.”

Nick couldn’t have planned a better, more disreputable scene than this, and among the crowd he saw several of society’s more rigid matrons, their faces avid with interest. Yet to his immense surprise, he heard himself say, “Perhaps I have the solution.”

Every eye turned on him, but he was aware only of Julia. He withdrew his purse, took out a guinea, and tossed it at the sweep’s feet. “There—consider yourself compensated. The child now belongs to Lady Hunterston.”

The man scrambled for the gold coin and clutched it with both grimy hands. “Thet’s more like it, guv’nor. Thank
ye
.” Turning to Julia, he offered a brown-toothed grin. “Ye’re welcome to the little bugger. ‘
E’s nofin’ but trouble.”

“I’m sure he will continue that fine tradition,” agreed Nick pleasantly. “Now, leave before the watch arrives.”

Glancing furtively over his shoulder, the man melted into the crowd. Nick didn’t notice
,
mesmerized by the luminous gaze Julia turned on him. Never had he seen such beautiful eyes.

She grasped his hand and held it to her, her fingers warm against his. ‘That was quite the nicest thing I’ve ever seen. I have misjudged you, Lord Bridgeton
.“

Nick could have told her she had not been wrong, that he was as evil as rumored and worse. Instead, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. “It was nothing compared to your efforts, Cousin. I stand in awe.”

She blushed and retrieved her hand. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

“Demme,” exclaimed Maddie from where she was instructing Edmund on how to stem the flow of blood. “Amelia Cornwall just passed in her carriage. She was gawking like a mongoose, her eyes popping out of her head. It’ll be all over town within the hour.”

Julia bit her lip, a worried pucker between her brows, though she said staunchly, “We had no choice. Someone had to rescue the child.”

“I cannot believe that dangerous man attacked Edmund in such a brash fashion.” Maddie handed a fresh handkerchief to her nephew before locking her gaze on Julia. ‘There’s no help for it. I had planned on launching you at the Seftons’ ball, but I see we need to speed things up a bit. We will use the Bastions’ rout instead
.“

“But that’s only a week from now,” echoed Julia, a hint of concern in her voice.

“It will be perfect.” Maddie sniffed the air and grimaced. “Julia, the next time you decide to rescue an urchin, pray
choose
one who is better washed. This one reeks of a water closet.” She bent to pick up Ephram, who sat wheezing by her feet. “Put that child up with Jeffers and help me get Edmund into the carriage. He cannot stand the sight of his own blood and is likely to faint at any moment.”

Nick wasn’t sure what he had just done, but watching Julia assist the ugly child onto the perch with the ancient retainer, he thought that perhaps his impulsive gesture had been the right thing after all. He only wished he could be a witness to Alec’s dismay on discovering the newest member of Hunterston House.

Within minutes the carriage rumbled off, Maddie’s loud voice still audible as she instructed Edmund on the various ways he could have protected himself from the sweep. Perched on the top of the coach, a bright silk shawl wrapped around his ragged brown clothes, sat Julia’s urchin.

Though he hadn’t thought of it in years, Nick remembered a time when he had believed love could indeed produce miracles. Watching his beautiful, depraved mother slowly descend into the pit of madness, daily growing more virulent and spiteful, Nick had hoped with every ounce of his adolescent soul that God would see fit to send her the love she needed, for his was plainly not enough. But no love had come, and one fateful night his mother had thrown herself from the roof. If he listened closely enough, he could still hear the echo of her scream as she tumbled through the air.

Nick watched the coach as it disappeared from sight. It was just possible, he reflected dispassionately, that a woman with Julia’s ability to love might indeed save his lost soul… had he one to save. With an easy shrug, he turned and made his way back to his lodgings.

He might not have a soul, but he did have debts.

Mounds of them, all run up at the expectation of receiving an inheritance that should have been his for the taking. It would take far more than a dab of a woman with an unexpectedly beautiful smile and a punishing left hook to turn him from his ultimate goal.

Whistling a jaunty tune, Nick began to plan his next encounter with the intriguing Lady Hunterston.

Alec blinked fuzzily at Burroughs’ long white nightrail. “Why in thunder are you dressed like that? You look like a damned ghost.”

“It is four o’clock in the morning, my lord. Most
respectable
people are to bed by now.” Reproof lingered in the cultured tone.

“Not true. You are one of the most respectable persons 1
know
, but you haven’t gone to bed yet.” Pleased with his masterful logic, Alec crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. Even filled to the gills with Lucien’s best brandy, he was capable of clear, concise thinking.

Burroughs set the silver tray bearing a glass of milk aside and assisted Alec in removing his greatcoat. “I always wait up for you, my lord. It is a tradition for us.”

Alec slung an arm around Burroughs’ thin shoulders. “Yes, by God, that’s exactly what it is.
A tradition.
Like… like Christmas.” He might be a wastrel and a laggard, but he could handle his liquor with the best of ‘em.

Burroughs gently disengaged himself. “Allow me to escort you to bed, sir.”

Alec waved him off. “No, no, no. Need a little something to calm my nerves.
Something to give me pleasant dreams.”
Or at least, better dreams than the disturbing ones that had haunted him the last fortnight. Between disreputable visions involving his prim, untouched
wife,
and nightmares where pocketwatches, teapots, and other mundane household items tangled about his neck like iron shackles, sleep had become little more than an elusive memory.

He had attempted to amuse himself with a variety of activities, including boxing, fencing, and riding, in the hope that sheer weariness would cause him to drop into a restful slumber. Even those diversions had proved unsuccessful.