A Spy's Devotion

by Melanie Dickerson

  “Of course not,” Julia said quickly.

  “And I did specifically instruct Anna to stay with you and care for you until you were well enough to join us in Bath, for I never imagined you had more than the small cold that Phoebe had just got over.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t—”

  “And since Anna deserted you, I have sent her away. She no longer works here. Kitty the scullery maid is to take her place in the kitchen.”

  This would be a promotion for Kitty. “Thank you so much for rewarding Kitty in this way.”

  “And she shall have extra pay for helping you while you were sick.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Wilhern.”

  “Phoebe and I are leaving now to call on Mr. and Miss Langdon, to thank them for assisting you and for sending for the doctor.”

  “That is very good of you.”

  Aunt Wilhern nodded and turned to leave.

  A few hours later, Phoebe came in to tell Julia all about their call on the Langdons. Mr. Langdon had been on his way out, but when he saw them, he had stayed and talked to Phoebe.

  “And you will never believe what happened.” Phoebe’s face was alight, her small eyes round and her mouth open.

  “What?”

  “Mother asked him and Leorah if they would promise to visit us this winter in Warwickshire, and Leorah said she thought perhaps she would be able to, and Mr. Langdon said the same. What do you think of that? And when he comes, Father will offer him twenty thousand pounds to marry me. I could be married before next spring.”

  Julia’s heart skipped a beat. Would her uncle actually approach Mr. Langdon about marrying his daughter, dangling her dowry in front of him as incentive? Perhaps he already suspected—or knew—that Mr. Langdon was spying on him. Of course Uncle Wilhern would want him to marry his daughter—to ensure that he would not ever testify against him.

  Aside from all that, it was simply amazing that Phoebe was content to have her father offer her in marriage to the man, referencing her twenty thousand pounds as an inducement.

  Julia listened as Phoebe talked for ten minutes about how handsome Mr. Langdon was, about his height, his grace and presence on the dance floor, his impeccable taste in clothing, and what the other girls of her acquaintance had said about how handsome he was. In all her ecstatic ramblings, she said not one word about his character.

  Because she didn’t know anything about his fine character, his compassion, or his sensibleness and sensibility. She didn’t know of his work at the Children’s Aid Mission on behalf of the poor. What would Phoebe say when she found out about that? And perhaps more importantly, Phoebe didn’t know that he was doing his duty to his fellow officers and his country by finding evidence of her father’s treachery.

  “He told me how glad he was that you have me to talk to while you are sick. He said I must make you smile and keep you company as much as possible. Do you think he likes me, Julia?” Phoebe looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.

  Julia shifted against the pillows behind her back. She cleared her throat and then reached for her cup of tea. “Of course.” She took a sip. “What else did he say?”

  Phoebe looked disappointed at Julia’s answer. She frowned and then continued, “He asked me about my trip to Bath.”

  Because he is polite.

  “And he asked if we were coming to the ball tonight and said that he would be there.” Phoebe arched her eyebrows and smirked.

  He was making small talk.

  “And he asked about you a lot, what the doctor said yesterday, if you were still coughing, and if you were out of bed yet.” She frowned. “Sometimes I wonder if he prefers you, Julia. Mother thinks the same thing.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Julia picked at the fringe on her dressing gown. “He was only being kind. You know how thoughtful he is.”

  “Yes, but he did ask particularly about you, Julia.” Phoebe’s lips formed a pout.

  “He knows how sick I was, and yet he hasn’t come to visit me, has he?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then.” Julia searched her mind to think of another topic. “You never told me much about your time in Bath, Phoebe. You said your cousins were well. How many balls did you attend?”

  “I attended two balls, where I was introduced to so many people I could never remember all their faces and certainly not their names, and two dinner parties, which were tedious beyond belief. Even you would have complained. We went to a concert because Lydia insisted—you remember Lydia—but it was even more boring than the dinner parties, although you would have liked the concert, Julia.”

  Yes, she would have very much liked to go to a concert or the theatre, but her aunt and uncle and Phoebe rarely went. Theatre was not to their taste, and Phoebe despised concerts. She said it made her want to scream to have to sit in one place for so long and not make a sound. And the music was never to her liking. Besides, music was made for dancing, Phoebe said, and simply sitting and watching the musicians play was excruciatingly dull.

  “I did see Mr. Dinklage in Bath. At first I couldn’t remember who he was. Can you believe it? He seemed quite altered, thinner. He said he had been very ill himself. He also seemed pleased to see a familiar face. He didn’t know a soul in Bath and was only there because his mother wanted to take the waters, and she was in such poor health that she kept to her room. He did ask after you, Julia, but the look on his face was so wistful and pained. I do believe he will always regret you.”

  “He will forget me.”

  “Julia! It isn’t like you to be heartless.”

  “I’m not being heartless. He threw me over for his mother.”

  “Oh, Julia!” Phoebe laughed quite raucously. “What a funny thing to say! But I suppose it is true.” She shook her head. “He was never handsome enough for you.”

  “I am sorry I flirted with him, poor man, but I don’t think I ever would have married him.”

  “Oh, of course not.” Phoebe flipped her wrist in a dismissive gesture. Then she smiled as her mind caught on something more interesting. “The Langdons will soon be going back to their own country estate, and as soon as you are well enough to travel, we shall go home to Wilhern Manor. Then we will await Leorah and Mr. Langdon’s arrival.” Phoebe clasped her hands and squealed. “Is it not too wonderful?”

  Julia merely smiled.

  “But I am disturbing you, and you need your rest to get well. Do get well quickly, Julia, for as soon as Mr. Langdon leaves London, there can certainly be no reason for us to stay here.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What? I do declare, Julia, you talk even more softly now than you did before your illness.”

  “I promise to try to be well as soon as I can.”

  “Ah, Julia. You are so good to me.” Phoebe squeezed her hand. “I don’t know how I could ever do without you. Whenever Mr. Langdon and I are married, you must come and stay with us at least half the year.”

  Phoebe was already skipping toward the door. “Rest well, Julia.”

  As Phoebe closed the door behind her, Julia allowed herself to contemplate the contrast between Phoebe and Leorah. She had often thought the two of them similar. They were both full of life and energy and high spirits, but where Leorah refused to follow society’s rules because she found them ridiculous, Phoebe didn’t follow them because she refused to check her own recklessness. When she wanted something, she didn’t care whether it was appropriate or not. Wherever her impetuous emotions led her, Phoebe followed.

  Leorah, on the other hand, though spirited and lively, was also sensible. Julia couldn’t imagine her allowing herself to throw caution to the wind and fall in love with a man who had shown her no encouragement. Leorah would marry sensibly—but for love—or not at all.

  A few days later, having been informed that Felicity was coming that morning, Julia ventured downstairs and was sitting in the drawing room when her friend arrived.

  “Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Felicity asked as soon as they were settl
ed near each other and Phoebe had run out of the room to fetch something.

  “Yes, thank you.” Julia pulled the shawl around her neck, as her doctor had cautioned her to do—to avoid exposing her throat to cool air.

  “I wanted to be sure and see you before you leave for the country. Phoebe says you are all to leave as soon as you are well enough to travel.”

  “Oh, I do wish you could come with us.” And she wished she could tell Felicity that she wasn’t likely to be going anywhere with the Wilherns, as her uncle would most likely be going to prison soon.

  “But we are destined to stay in town. London is so dirty and disagreeable in winter.” Felicity sighed but kept smiling.

  Felicity’s father had gained his fortune through trade and was still employed as a merchant. They had a fashionable house in town but no house in the country. Julia would have loved to invite her friend to visit her, but the Wilherns’ country house would be confiscated as soon as her uncle was arrested for treason.

  “Perhaps you will be mistress of your own country estate someday and can ask me for a visit then.” Felicity smiled archly.

  “That hardly seems likely at the moment.”

  “Does it not?”

  Julia eyed her friend. “What are you thinking of, pray tell?” Then she had a nervous suspicion that she already knew the answer.

  “Did I not hear that it was Mr. Langdon who flew down the street after the doctor for you? That he stayed all day, pacing about, to hear how you were faring?”

  “Did you?” Julia found herself breathless at the thought of Mr. Langdon so concerned for her.

  “Now don’t turn pale,” Felicity said, starting to fan Julia’s face.

  “I am well. But I believe you are mistaken, Felicity.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. Mr. Langdon is believed to be Phoebe’s suitor.”

  Felicity gave her a dubious look, raising her brows and quirking one side of her mouth. “After the way he spoke to you and looked at you when we went to the Children’s Aid Mission . . . I would not be surprised if he did not ask you to marry him very soon.”

  Julia would not, could not, allow herself to hope for anything concerning Mr. Langdon.

  A servant announced Miss Leorah Langdon at that moment. She came into the room with a bright smile and wearing an even brighter yellow spencer, which heightened the beauty of her dark hair and eyes.

  Julia gave Felicity’s hand a quick squeeze of warning, hoping she understood not to talk anymore of Mr. Langdon.

  Leorah greeted them both warmly. As initial niceties were being exchanged, Felicity asked, “And is your family well, Leorah?”

  “Oh yes, quite well. No, that is not true.” She frowned a bit. “My brother has been quite ill.”

  Julia felt all the blood drain from her face. Poor Mr. Langdon! Had he contracted her illness? Would helping her cost him his health, or even his life?

  “Oh, I mean my oldest brother, Jonathan, not Nicholas.” Leorah smiled at Julia and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Forgive me for my carelessness.”

  Felicity was grinning at her, and Leorah’s look was more of compassion. She said softly, “No one who knew Nicholas could help but love him.”

  Julia forced a smile, her face still tingling as she determined not to dwell on Leorah’s words. “Shall we have some tea?” Julia rang the bell.

  Phoebe bounced into the room, exclaiming in exaggerated terms her joy at seeing Leorah. “What a happy group we are!” Phoebe cried, clasping her hands.

  Phoebe talked excitedly with Leorah, and Felicity leaned her head close to Julia’s and whispered, “Mr. Langdon will never love Phoebe, no matter how much she wants him to.”

  Julia gave Felicity a horrified look, and her friend said no more. The tea was brought in, and Phoebe played hostess by moving closer to pass out the tea things.

  Phoebe dominated the conversation, and Julia’s thoughts whirled inside her head. She remembered the expression on Leorah’s face, how she had looked almost sad as she had squeezed Julia’s hand. Perhaps she knew how Julia felt about her brother but knew also that her brother couldn’t ask Julia to marry him.

  Besides, Julia had a legitimate worry, now that she was getting her strength back and her aunt and uncle were back from Bath. Her uncle would surely insist she marry Mr. Edgerton immediately. In fact, now that Mr. Edgerton had the special license—as she assumed he had already acquired it—her uncle could take her straight to the church on any given day and force her to marry the man at a moment’s notice.

  “Don’t you think so, Julia?” Phoebe asked. All three young ladies were staring at her.

  “What?”

  “The roads to Wilhern Manor. They’re the best roads in that part of England. Leorah and her brother will have no trouble at all traveling to visit us this winter.”

  “Oh, certainly, the roads are very good.”

  “Julia, should you go back to bed? Are you feeling ill?”

  “Oh no, I am well. I think tomorrow I shall be well enough for a short walk.”

  “Oh, I shall tell Mother!” Phoebe clapped her hands. “We shall be in Warwickshire very soon, in less than a week, I am sure, and then you shall come and visit us, Leorah. Your brother promised most faithfully.”

  “Of course, Phoebe.”

  Julia did not miss the conspiratorial smile Leorah sent her way. She hoped Phoebe did not notice it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Julia sat at her desk replying to a letter from Sarah Peck, who was sending her letters through Felicity from her new home.

  A knock came at her door. Julia turned to see her uncle entering.

  She hastily covered the salutation of her letter with a second sheet of paper.

  “Julia. You are nearly well, I see.”

  “Good morning, Uncle. I—I have not entirely got my strength back yet. But Dr. Alcott says I should make a full recovery.”

  “That is very good news.” But the cold way he eyed her belied his words. “Now that you are better,” he went on, “I trust you are willing for your marriage to Edgerton to take place soon.”

  “Of course.” What day? Tell me what day.

  “At the moment, Edgerton is away—that is why he did not come to visit you when you were ill—looking into an estate he is thinking of purchasing in Warwickshire.”

  Julia feigned a look of pleasure at hearing he was to acquire an estate in the same county as Wilhern Manor.

  “Will he return soon?”

  “Yes, I daresay. Very soon.”

  Good. He would be back in time to be arrested, along with her uncle, for treason.

  “When he does return, he will want to marry right away.”

  “Yes, I imagine he will.”

  Her uncle continued to eye her. He suddenly stepped toward her with a menacing, twisted smile. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her to her feet.

  “You showed that paper to Nicholas Langdon, didn’t you?”

  Aware of his painful grip on her arm, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind.

  He jerked her closer. “Answer me.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking of.” She tried to clear her mind of fear, to think coldly and logically. “Uncle, you are hurting me.”

  “Don’t play innocent. You are the only one who could have taken it.”

  “Taken what?”

  He glared at her from eyes as black as night. “I am not a man to be trifled with. I will not allow you or anyone else to get in my way.” He tightened his grip on her arm, squeezing so hard she cried out.

  “Be quiet,” he ground out.

  Suddenly, her door opened and Phoebe entered without knocking, as she often did.

  “Father!” Phoebe cried. “What are you doing?”

  Her uncle released her and stepped back. “Nothing at all. Julia and I were only having a discussion about when her marriage to Mr. Edgerton would take place. Isn’t that right, Julia?”

  “Yes.” Julia rubbed her arm where h
er uncle had so cruelly held her.

  “Phoebe, leave us for a few more minutes while we finish our discussion.”

  “Julia, are you well? Father, what is this?”

  “Phoebe, do as you’re told,” he ordered in a harsher tone than Julia had ever heard him use with his daughter. His tone softened a bit as he amended, “You may come back in a few minutes.”

  Julia kept her back turned and soon heard the door shut. When she turned around, Phoebe was gone.

  Her uncle was glaring at her. “You will not speak a word of this to Phoebe. You will not leave this room until Edgerton returns tomorrow to marry you. And if you do, I shall make you rue it.”

  Would he beat her the way he had beaten his horse all those years ago?

  But her next thought was, He is afraid. He realized she had taken the incriminating paper, and he had to keep her quiet. Otherwise he never would have threatened her like that. He was afraid, as well he should be, since treason was a crime punishable by death.

  “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Uncle Wilhern.” She glared at him, stare for stare.

  Finally, he turned away and left her room.

  Julia examined her arm. It ached terribly where her uncle had dug into her soft flesh. Bruises were already appearing on the white skin on the underside of her arm, one for each of his cruel, biting fingers.

  How dare he physically bully her! She closed her eyes, trying to keep the hate from overwhelming her.

  A timid knock came at her door. Julia took a deep breath, let it out, and called, “Come in.”

  Phoebe stuck her head in. “Is Father gone?” She came inside, closed the door behind her, and then hurried across the room to Julia. “What was that about? Was Father threatening you? Surely he wouldn’t . . . Is he forcing you to marry Mr. Edgerton?”

  How much should she confess to Phoebe? Her cousin would despise her when the truth came out, when she discovered that Julia and Mr. Langdon, the man Phoebe hoped to marry, had conspired to put her father in prison and change her privileged life forever. Julia’s heart suddenly ached with the imminent loss of her closest friend.

  “Phoebe, I . . . I am still not feeling entirely well. Your father was speaking to me about Mr. Edgerton. He believes my marrying Mr. Edgerton is for the best.” Julia kept her face turned away. Phoebe was not the most perceptive person, but Julia didn’t want to risk her reading her expression.