The Secret Life of Lady Julia

by Lecia Cornwall

  “Just a gent with some goods for Erich. Make sure it’s the good schnapps, none of the muck you serve the poor bastards out here.”

  Julia drew a sharp breath. Thomas was in the back room. It must be him, since toffs were rather thin on the ground in this part of town. She set her tankard down. Would they let her simply walk in? She doubted she’d make it three steps before someone stopped her.

  She glanced at the front door. In a moment they’d come for him, burst in, knock down the door and drag Thomas to the nearest gallows.

  “My earring!” she cried loudly. “I’ve dropped it, a lovely pearl.” No one came to look for it. “And a diamond too,” she tried again. “A real diamond! I won’t go until I find it!”

  There was a rush of movement, and the shadows emptied like rats leaving their nests at the scent of food. They came to look for the treasure. Even the barmaid looked eager, her attention on the crowd moving around the floor at Julia’s feet.

  Julia didn’t hesitate. She crossed to the door and drew the pistol out of her pocket. She put her hand on the latch, felt the greasy iron give under her fingers.

  Two men jumped to their feet.

  Thomas was there, thank heavens, and she watched his eyes widen at the sight of her.

  “Well, well, what have we here?” the other man said, recovering first.

  She hadn’t thought of what to say. What did highwaymen say? Stand and deliver? She aimed the pistol at his chest.

  “Stand!” she said, her voice a croak, but they were already on their feet. The man laughed.

  “Friend of yours, Erich?” Thomas said, looking her over as if he’d never seen her before. “I had no idea you’d invited guests. Is she here for the jewels?”

  It’s a trap, she told him with her eyes, but Thomas looked away, studied his nails.

  “Are you, my dear?” Erich asked. “You’re a bold one, I’ll give you that.”

  Julia felt her stomach tighten, every nerve on alert as he came out from behind the table. She backed up until she ran into the wall.

  “Stay where you are. I’ve shot men before,” she said. He was tall, taller even than Thomas, and twice as wide, and dangerous, though he was smiling. Her hand was sweating on the pistol.

  He laughed as if they were meeting at a dinner party and she amused him. “Have you really? So have I. Now just where did you come from, sweeting, and how did you get in here?”

  The door opened, and Julia felt a scream gather in her throat. “Run,” she said to Thomas, but it came out as another croak. “Run.” Erich’s smile instantly evaporated and he reached out and grabbed her by the throat. Thomas crashed his weight into the half-­open door, knocking the returning guard into the jamb. The tray of glasses and schnapps flew, smashing on the stone floor, and the guard cursed in guttural German.

  Erich twisted her arm behind her, wrenched the pistol out of her grip, and jabbed it under her chin. Thomas slammed the door, leaving the unconscious guard outside, and drew a wicked-­looking dagger from the table.

  “Let her go,” he ordered.

  She felt the big man’s laugh rumble through her. “So she is with you after all. How disappointing.”

  He pointed the gun at Thomas instead, wrapping a meaty arm around her throat. “I don’t like to be double-­crossed. I think I’ll shoot you and break her neck.” He looked at her, craning his head around her shoulder to do so. “She’s a beauty. Maybe I’ll keep her for a while. Tell me, do you like pretty things, sweeting?” He grabbed the ruby pendant off the table and draped it around her neck. “There now, that’s perfect. It will hang right between your lovely—­”

  She stomped down on his foot. He grunted in pain and the gun went off. She saw the flash light Thomas’s eyes, watched him slide, his body hitting the table.

  “No!” she screamed, and twisted free, dropping to the floor, trying to reach him, but Erich caught her by the chain that held the ruby and twisted it. It tightened against her throat, cutting off her air. She met Thomas’s eyes as black spots appeared in her vision. He threw the knife, and it flew past her face, hit her captor in the leg, mere inches from her eyes. He screamed, and the chain loosened for a second. She drew a ragged breath.

  “Run, Tom, get away, it’s a trap,” she cried before the thief caught her by the hair and dragged her back, screaming obscenities. She jabbed her elbow into the knife still sticking out of his flesh. He staggered then, let her go, and she sagged to her knees again.

  Then the door burst open and men poured into the room. Thomas grabbed her, rolled to the floor and covered her with his body as the shooting began.

  “No,” she panted, struggling against him, fighting him. “Run—­they’ve come for you!”

  She looked up into Thomas Merritt’s furious eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “You might have gotten yourself killed! Don’t tell me this was Ives’s idea.”

  She pounded on his chest. “Listen to me! It’s a trap—­they’ll hang you. They know you took the star. You’ve got to get out!”

  He held her easily, his eyes warming. “You little fool. I don’t know whether to kiss you or thrash you. This isn’t what you think, Julia.”

  “Merritt!” She heard Stephen’s voice. “Kostov’s men have Erich.” He looked down over Thomas’s shoulder, his eyes widening with shock. “Julia? What the devil are you doing here? Are you all right?”

  “She’s fine,” Thomas growled, getting up at last, then hauling her to her feet. He picked up her pistol and handed it to Stephen.

  “We had a deal, Merritt!” the thief yelled, his arms pinioned behind him by a pair of English soldiers. “You cheated, bringing that hellcat here!”

  Thomas regarded him. “If not her, some other lady would have eventually found you, done worse, no doubt. But she didn’t come for you. She came for me.”

  Julia stood in front of Thomas and faced Stephen. “I won’t let you arrest him. You promised he would not face charges if he assisted us. You cannot do this!”

  Stephen took her arm, sat her in a chair. “What on earth are you talking about? How did you get here?” he asked. He grasped her chin, turned her face to the light. “Is that blood on your cheek?” She pulled away. It was Erich’s blood, not hers, and it didn’t matter.

  “You’re not here to arrest Thomas?” she asked, breathless.

  He frowned. “Of course not. Merritt led us here to arrest Robin Hood and his men. I gave him the star to use as bait, which reminds me . . .” He picked up the star from the table and put it into his pocket. “It will be returned to the safe in Lord Castlereagh’s office before morning.”

  “Better drop it behind the sofa, or under the desk,” Thomas suggested. “Make it look like an accident rather than a miracle.”

  Stephen grinned at him. “An excellent idea.” Julia gaped. When had they become so chummy?

  A Russian officer came forward and bowed to Julia. “As charming as the pendant looks,” he said, “I must relieve you of it, madam.” He looked from Stephen to Thomas. “One of you gentlemen owes her a jewel to equal this, I believe.”

  She felt Stephen’s hand on her shoulder, possessive. “Allow me to present my fiancée. Lady Julia Leighton, Your Highness. Julia, this is Prince Kostov, advisor to the Tsar, and one of his finest generals.”

  And Katerina’s husband. Julia met Thomas’s eyes. She read a touch of sadness, but it was masked so quickly she might have been mistaken.

  “Then congratulations are in order,” Thomas said, his eyes on Stephen’s hand on her shoulder. She wanted to throw it off, run to him, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His gaze was cold as ice. Instead she shrank into Stephen’s reassuring grip.

  There was no time to explain. A ragged man appeared in the doorway, on crutches, his eyes hollow. “God in Heaven, I thought you’d never come for me,” he said to Thomas.

 
“Good evening, Patrick. I see you’ve survived your ordeal.”

  He ran his eyes over Thomas’s clothing. “Your cravat’s tied wrong, and you need a proper shave.”

  Kostov produced a flask, raised it to Thomas and grinned. “The evening has been a great success, thanks to you, Mr. Merritt. It was a brilliant plan. Did you know there is a hefty reward for the capture of these men? You’ll be a rich man.” He took a drink and passed the flask to Thomas.

  Thomas took a sip, passed the flask back, but the Russian waved it away. “Keep it. It’s silver, and the diamond is from one of Catherine the Great’s dresses. It’s worth a fortune. It was a gift from the Tsar, but he will give me another when he hears this tale. He admires bravery and wit. In fact, come and see me tomorrow, we’ll have a feast in your honor. I’m sure the Tsar will want to meet you in person.”

  Before he could reply to the invitation, Patrick Donovan moaned. Julia looked up to find him staring at her in horror, pointing. “That’s the woman who shot me!” he said, trying to back away. “It was her, in the park!” Thomas caught him as he stumbled.

  “Shut up, Donovan. A good valet—­a smart valet—­knows his place, and when to keep his mouth shut. Let’s go home.” He bowed to Kostov and nodded at Stephen, then turned to her. His expression was polite, nothing more. “Farewell, Miss Leighton. I wish you every happiness.”

  Her heart lurched, but Stephen’s hand tightened again, holding her in place. She could do nothing but watch as Thomas left the room without a backward glance. Her heart snapped inside her chest.

  She would never see him again.

  She was dreadfully tired as Stephen helped her into the coach and they set off for home. “I hope you don’t mind that I introduced you as my fiancée,” he said brightly. “I think of you that way—­at least until I can call you my wife. My heart nearly stopped when I saw you there tonight, in that den of thieves. You came to get the star back, didn’t you, to keep Merritt from selling it?”

  She was too weary to correct him. “I saw him leaving the embassy when it was taken.”

  He gathered her in his arms. “You thought he’d led me into a trap, and you came to save me, didn’t you? You do love me. So you will put me out of my agony and say you will marry me after all? I know you had feelings for him once. I hope they are resolved. He is not the right man for you. He is an adventurer, a wastrel. Marry me, sweetheart. I’ll spend my life making you happy.”

  She shut her eyes. No, Thomas Merritt was not the right man for her. She could pine for him forever, her lost love, a man she barely knew and yet knew more intimately and completely than anyone else. She might be useful to Stephen, but could she ever make him happy? Would he remember the scandal, and Thomas, every time he looked at Jamie, or wonder if she might stray again? She couldn’t bear it if suspicion destroyed the love he had for her, and the regard she had for him. He deserved a woman as honorable as he was, who loved him for the truly wonderful man he was. Still, it was tempting, She might never get another such offer, a chance to live an honorable life again.

  “We have Castlereagh’s blessing,” Stephen said. “I’m to be posted to Spain when he returns to England, so we’ll need to marry very soon. You and Dorothea will go to my estate in Somerset for the time being. It’s not Temberlay Castle, but—­”

  Temberlay. Her past would always haunt her. She shut her eyes. “I’m so tired. Can we talk about it tomorrow? I’ll give you my answer then. Dorothea will be wondering where I’ve been.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Of course, darling. I hadn’t thought of all you’d been through. Just promise me that you will never, ever do anything like that again.”

  The time for boldness and adventure was over. It was time to choose a future. “I promise,” she murmured.

  Chapter 54

  “So she is to marry the dull English diplomat,” Katerina said the next day, when Thomas visited to ensure that General Semyon had indeed returned to Madam Anna. The old lady was delighted that her handsome hero had enjoyed such a grand adventure, as if the ruby itself had saved the day.

  “It’s an excellent match, Katerina. She will be safe and—­”

  “Bored to tears,” Katerina interjected. “A woman brave enough to shoot a man, bold enough to risk her own life to save yours under such circumstances, deserves better than a junior diplomat.”

  He sipped his champagne. “He’ll rise. He’s a smart man.”

  She slid her green eyes over him. “You sound as if you are trying to convince me, or yourself, perhaps. Why did you not sweep her up in your arms, take her away?”

  “How very Russian that would have been!” he quipped, but her raised brows demanded an answer. “Where could I take her? I have nothing to offer her.”

  She sniffed. “You have love, and passion. You are the only one of my lovers that my husband actually admires, even though we never actually got around to being lovers.”

  “You’re in love with your husband, Princess. You don’t really want me. You came to Vienna for him, to make him jealous.”

  She sent him a sad smile. “You are the first to understand that. Not even Anna, or my old roué knows.”

  “Tell him,” Thomas said. “Kostov, I mean.”

  “What, and miss out on the jewelry he gives me every time he is away from me, just to keep me happy?” She shrugged. “Perhaps I will, when this dreadful conference is over.”

  She regarded Thomas thoughtfully. “You have distracted me on purpose, I think, but I will not be put off. What will you do about Lady Julia? Even de Ligne noticed. He will say he brought you together, dine out upon the tales of your romance once he knows how it ends. He’ll get more invitations for a story that ends happily.”

  “It does end happily, just not with me,” he said, feeling the sadness of that. He could not stay in Vienna, knowing she was here too, and about to marry another man. He’d envied David Temberlay, but try as he might, he could not dislike Stephen Ives. He’d make a perfect husband, caring, considerate, and honorable. And if their life together was a trifle dull, at least it would be safe. It was hard to imagine Julia contentedly embroidering samplers, or spending her days reading improving books. She was more than that, vital, brilliant, glowing. He clenched his fist on the stem of the champagne glass and vowed silently he’d kill Stephen Ives if he ever put out that glow.

  “Tell her how you feel. Let her choose,” Katerina said again.

  “I’m leaving Vienna as soon as Donovan’s ready to travel. That should be only a few days.”

  “Then I shall go and shoot his other leg!”

  Thomas laughed. “I gave him part of the reward money to buy a horse farm in Ireland. He’ll need his legs.”

  “A valet with a horse farm?” she scoffed. “It would never happen in Russia! At least the beasts will be well groomed, I suppose. Do you intend to go with him to Ireland?”

  “He says he wants to get married, raise a family. There’s no place for me there.” He set his glass down. “I must go, sweetheart.”

  She rose and put her arms around him, kissing him on both cheeks. “You are a fool. I shall pray for you to change your mind before it’s too late.”

  He smiled. “I’m not the marrying kind.”

  Katerina sniffed. “Every man is the marrying kind if it’s the right woman,” she said.

  Chapter 55

  Every afternoon at precisely three-­twenty Prince de Talleyrand left the French Embassy for his daily ride in the park. At exactly 3:28 his coach would turn down the tree-­lined lane, and Talleyrand’s manservant would open the windows of the vehicle so His Highness could take the air. If the weather was sunny and dry, the prince would descend from his coach and walk a short way. At 4:35 he would return to the coach and go back to Kaunitz Palace, and work.

  Julia made sure she was on the path, waiting when the coach turned. The prince knocked on the ro
of. “Stop here.” She waited until the groom had opened the door and let down the steps for the ambassador to descend. “Lady Julia, what a pleasure to see you here today. Shall we walk for a while? It is a pleasant day for winter, is it not?”

  She held out the letter. “I came to return your gift, Your Highness. I cannot accept it.”

  His brows rose. “You have no desire to go to Louisiana? I understand it is quite lovely, and the plantation I am giving you has over ten thousand acres of prime land. Of course, I’ve never been there. I negotiated the agreement between the American government and Napoleon, you see, for the sale of the Louisiana Territories. There was a very generous reward for my assistance, including land which I will never see, because I am an old man, and not likely to find a reason to ever leave France again when this conference is over. I did not give it frivolously. I meant for you to have it.”

  Julia looked at the ­people strolling along the path, enjoying the rarity of a mild day. “Why, Your Highness? Your plan did not work. The documents were retrieved.”

  He smiled like a cat. “Oh, that. Yes indeed. I’m sorry, my dear Julia, but it was a ruse. I wished to make Castlereagh nervous, see how he would react if I pressed him just a little. Now I know. Our meeting went well. He refused to give in to blackmail by anyone, said that he had only the best interests of Europe at heart, and wanted a lasting peace.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, wondering if he was lying. His face gave nothing away. “Doesn’t everyone want peace?”

  He chuckled. “You are not the politician I thought you were, or perhaps it is just that you are young and hold high ideals. No, there are many here who can be bought. I can usually tell who, and figure out what they want, but not Castlereagh. He is a closed book. I think even his own government does not know him well. That’s why he’s gone, and Wellington will be arriving soon. I had to put Castlereagh to the test, see what he would do, and I was curious, I admit, to see what you would do. You have been a breath of fresh air at this dreadful affair.” He paused, and beckoned his coach. “And so, you will humor an old man and take the deed. I hear from Diana that you are to be married, to the young officer you were with in the park that day. Perhaps you will—­”