Mysterious Miss Channing (Ranford Book 3)

by Nadine Millard

  “She won’t even look at me,” Charles mumbled. “Why won’t she look at me?”

  “I cannot claim to be an expert on the female sex,” said Edward.

  “That’s because it’s impossible to be one,” added Tom unhelpfully.

  “But…” Edward continued. “…I generally find that whatever you think is going on is actually the opposite of what is going on. And so you are better off not thinking about it at all and just apologising later when the opportunity arises.”

  “Apologise? But I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Well, what’s that got to do with anything?” asked Tom.

  Charles decided not to continue the conversation. His head hurt badly enough.

  JULIA HAD WANTED NOTHING more than to run to Charles and throw her arms around him. She wanted to confess her tale and have him tell her it didn’t matter to him.

  But Caroline was right. If Charles were to seek out her father and hurt him, he would get in serious trouble. Even earls couldn’t go around murdering people. She wouldn’t risk that. She wouldn’t risk anything bad happening to any of them, not for her sake.

  If Caroline’s man could find a way out of this mess, then Julia would sit tight and pray that everything worked out.

  Rebecca and Caroline had kept true to their word and hadn’t told a soul about Julia’s confession, but sitting in the carriage beside the woman who had practically been a mother to her and the countess who had been so kind and welcoming, she felt an almost overwhelming sense of guilt.

  Not telling Charles was for his own benefit, though Julia could admit that she didn’t relish the idea of him knowing.

  But to keep it hidden from the two older ladies did not sit comfortably with Julia.

  It seemed that now she’d opened up and confessed, she wanted them all to know!

  She looked at Caroline and Rebecca, who had been eyeing her with concern all morning.

  “I think,” she began, breaking the not altogether comfortable silence in the carriage, “that I should tell Her Grace and her ladyship about my past.”

  Rebecca smiled encouragingly.

  “I think that is very brave and very wise,” she answered, while Caroline nodded her agreement.

  Taking a deep breath, Julia prepared to tell the sorry story all over again.

  THE RIDE HAD HELPED to ease Charles’s head somewhat, but their arrival at an inn for luncheon and to change horses did nothing to improve his mood.

  The men had arrived before the carriages and had already procured a private dining room before coming back outside and awaiting the ladies’ arrival.

  When the carriage did finally pull up, Charles rushed to assist them, determined to speak to Julia, even if just for a moment.

  It was strange, he thought, that he had spent his whole life never knowing she even existed, and now his arms felt empty without her in them.

  He stepped forward and opened the carriage door himself, waving aside the waiting groom’s offer of assistance.

  What he encountered was not what he’d expected.

  They were crying. Every one of them.

  He’d opened the door to a carriage full of weeping females.

  He took an instinctive step back, his mind screaming danger and turned toward Tom and Edward for help. But, being the cowards that they were and having already stated in the past that they both suffered an aversion to crying women, they turned and ran, not even assisting the ladies.

  Charles muttered an oath, quiet enough so that his mother wouldn’t lecture him again, and prepared to take charge himself.

  He wanted to handle the situation with care and sensitivity, as they were obviously all feeling delicate. But he hated crying women as much as the other two. Still, he intended to remain calm and rational. That was, until he saw Julia’s face and he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut.

  Her eyes were awash with tears, their green depths looking fragile and vulnerable. Her face was pale and masked in a sadness that he couldn’t bear to look at.

  He meant to ask if they were all right, if there was something he could do. But in his panic and unexpected reaction to seeing Julia cry, he shouted at them.

  “Stop crying,” he hollered.

  It wasn’t quite what he’d intended, but it had the desired effect. Their expressions went from miserable to shocked then terribly affronted.

  “Please,” he amended hoarsely, looking only at Julia. “I cannot bear to see you cry.”

  Her expression softened, and Charles was sure that it was love shining from her eyes, though she hadn’t said she loved him. But then, neither had he.

  Once more, in the face of her distress, his earlier anger and ill-feeling drifted away. And all that was left was his love for her and his desire to keep her happy and safe.

  “All right…” The dowager interrupted his thoughts, though she was speaking to Caroline and Rebeca. “…I can see that you are right. Your way is better.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Charles curiously.

  “Never you mind,” said Rebecca. “Come, help me out.”

  “Have they stopped?” Edward’s voice sounded behind Charles’s shoulder.

  “Yes, no thanks to you,” grumbled Charles.

  Edward merely shrugged then moved round him to help Rebecca from the carriage.

  Charles watched with a scowl on his face as Edward lifted Rebecca and set her on her feet before pulling her into an embrace that her big brother most definitely did not need to see.

  Tom had arrived too, but Charles was quick enough to turn his face away from him and Caroline. Where Edward may have some sense of decorum, Tom wouldn’t, and Charles wanted to hold on to his breakfast.

  Charles dutifully helped his mother and the dowager down from the carriage, but his eyes remained fixed on Julia.

  When it came her turn to exit the vehicle, he once again flouted all the rules, and, rather than take her hand, he gripped her waist and lifted her from the carriage, holding her close before slowly lowering her to her feet.

  “Charles,” she gasped breathlessly, and it took every inch of his willpower not to devour her there and then. “What are you—”

  “What’s wrong?” he interrupted her, not caring that he was making a spectacle of them both.

  “What do you mean, what’s wrong? You can’t go around manhandling women out of carriages. That’s what’s wrong. If you—”

  “I meant, why is everyone crying? What has upset you?”

  He watched her carefully, saw her consider his words, watched a flash of vulnerability streak through her emerald eyes before they became resigned.

  “Nothing at all. We just — well, we were talking about the children and, well, you know how grandmothers are, and Rebecca is so emotional at the moment. We just…”

  She drew to a close, no doubt because the look he was levelling at her was meant to convey that he didn’t believe a word she was saying.

  The dowager called out for Julia to hurry along, so with a last fleeting glance into his eyes, she turned and rushed away from him.

  Charles narrowed his eyes; watching her go with a mixture of irritation and lust swirling inside him.

  This woman was driving him utterly insane.

  HE’D MANAGED TO SIT next to her again, but this time Julia’s joy at being so close to him was marred with her nervousness.

  She wanted quite desperately to tell him everything but knew it was wise not to.

  The dowager and the countess had originally been very insistent that he be told, but after he’d bellowed at them all to stop crying, they’d changed their minds.

  “After all,” the dowager had whispered as Caroline and Rebecca were disembarking. “If this is how he reacts to you crying, who knows what he would do to your father.”

  He leaned closer now, and Julia shivered as she felt his breath tickle her neck.

  “You’re not eating, and you’ve been crying. Please, angel, tell me what’s wrong. Perha
ps I can help.”

  Julia gazed at him, feeling such a longing that she almost couldn’t breathe with it.

  “It’s nothing, Charles. Really.”

  He stared at her for so long that Julia began to squirm.

  “You’re lying to me,” he said softly.

  Her breath hitched. She knew how he despised dishonesty. But she couldn’t tell him. Not yet.

  “Charles, I—”

  “No. Don’t. You’re not ready to tell me yet for some reason. I suppose I must trust you. Trust that you will tell me when you’re ready.”

  Julia knew what it must take for him to trust her blindly, and she felt as though she would melt in a puddle at his feet.

  “As long as there isn’t some other man wanting to snatch you away, I can live with it.” He grinned before turning back to his meal.

  Julia felt her stomach turn. He had no idea how right he was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE RETURN TO RANFORD Hall was so chaotic that all thoughts of dishonesty and evil fathers and Charles were nigh on impossible to dwell on.

  For a start, there were more tears as Caroline and Rebecca were reunited with the children.

  The tears were both endearing and useful to Julia, for they got rid of Charles swifter than anything else would have, leaving her time to control both her emotions and her ridiculous desire to pour her heart out to him.

  She’d gone from not telling a soul about her father to practically taking out an advertisement in the paper. It was quite ridiculous.

  The journey home had tired them all out, and the ladies went straight to rest before dinner.

  Unfortunately, the mantua maker hadn’t had any evening dresses available to take home, so Julia had to wear one of her drab, shapeless gowns yet again. She was heartily sick of them.

  She fell into an exhausted sleep as soon as she stripped herself of her carriage dress and fell onto the bed. Coming back to Ranford Hall was like coming home. It felt familiar and safe, and the exhaustion of the last couple of days had finally caught up to her.

  The clock ticked away the hours, and still she slept. She dimly remembered that a maid came to try and rouse her for dinner, but she had been too exhausted to even open her eyes. On she slept, and it was the first dreamless sleep she’d had probably in her whole life.

  When Julia awoke the next day, she was momentarily confused. Then, the last couple of days came rushing back along with a great pang of hunger. She had slept through the entire evening and night, skipped both lunch and breakfast because of her nervousness, and now she was famished.

  A knock on the door heralded the arrival of a Molly with a cup of chocolate.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” she said cheerfully. “I was just coming to get you up. His lordship is like the divil himself, wanted us to check on you every five minutes. But sure, her ladyship said we were to let you sleep, and that was that. Anyway, the compromise was that I should wake you for luncheon, but if you don’t feel like—”

  “Luncheon?” Julia frowned before sitting up. “You mean I’ve slept all morning too?”

  “Yes, but it’s of no matter. And my mother always said the best cure for anything is sleep.” She came over now and positioned the pillows so that Julia could sit against them. “‘Course, that was no good at all to my Uncle Sean when he died from fallin’ off his donkey. But then, he was always a stupid ass, and I don’t mean the donkey.” She turned and picked up the chocolate from the side table and handed to Julia. “Well, you needed your sleep to be sure. You looked so tired when you came home. I was that worried, I can tell you. But you look much more yourself today.”

  Molly chatted away, drawing curtains and bustling about the room while Julia scrambled from the bed. She hastily drank the cup of chocolate, though it was long past morning and the time for it.

  She was mortified that she had slept so long. She knew that this week would be insanely busy with the upcoming ball.

  “What will you be wearing today, miss?” Molly asked.

  Julia froze. Of course, she had her new gowns. She could feel her answering grin spread across her face.

  “One of my new gowns, if you please,” she said cheerfully. “Perhaps the green.”

  Molly clapped her hands together.

  “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that. ‘Tis my favourite. I can’t wait to see how his lordship reacts.”

  As soon as Molly spoke the words, she clapped a hand over her mouth. No doubt, she knew that she had spoken out of turn. And though Julia would have loved nothing more than to discuss it with the maid, she knew she could not encourage such things as speaking so about one’s employer. But she couldn’t bring herself to scold the girl, so she remained quiet and impatiently readied herself, letting Molly assist with her hair.

  CHARLES SAT AND SULKED at the head of the table, refusing to do much of anything except brood about where Julia was.

  He didn’t stop to think about this colossal change in his own behaviour. He had gone from confirmed rake to devoted puppy. It would be embarrassing if he thought too much about it, so he didn’t. All he thought about was her.

  “She hasn’t eaten, you know.” He tried yet again to get someone to go and fetch Julia. If they didn’t cooperate soon, he’d go himself and to hell with propriety.

  They ignored him. Again.

  He was about to rage at them all when the door opened, and Julia walked in.

  His words died in his throat.

  Charles had long since known that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and ever would see.

  He had felt the curves of her body when she was pressed against him.

  He saw the beauty in her emerald eyes, in her bee stung lips.

  Her hair had been imagined spread across his pillow more times than he could count.

  But he also knew that she had tried her best to hide all that beauty.

  Until now.

  He felt his jaw drop. He looked to the other occupants of the room and saw theirs drop too. And he had a momentary insane urge to grab her and run back to her room so he could throw on one of her old gowns, so that he would remain the only person to be truly privy to what a beauty she was.

  JULIA SWALLOWED NERVOUSLY AS she looked around the room. Even before she’d gone into hiding, there’d never really been money for fine gowns. Her own were worn and drab, her mother’s picked by her father for his own disgusting purposes and, therefore, unfit to pass down to Julia.

  What she wore now was without doubt the most beautiful thing she’d ever possessed. It was simple in cut, a square-necked muslin. But the colour was the palest mint green, and it was bordered in the most exquisitely delicate white lace, round the neckline and sleeves. The colour made her eyes seems greener and brought out the red in her hair.

  Molly had waxed lyrical about it, and Julia had tried to remain demure and modest, but she was delighted with how it transformed her.

  The cut was so flattering, the material skimming her curves instead of swamping them.

  Julia’s favourite thing about the dress, however, was the spencer she had gotten to match — a white velvet with mint green trim. She’d even picked up a bonnet in the same shade of white. She couldn’t wait to wear them.

  “Julia,” breathed Rebecca, struggling to her feet. “Oh my word, you look heavenly. Doesn’t she?” she asked of nobody in particular.

  Julia flushed with pleasure, and her eyes were drawn of their own volition to Charles. Did he like it?

  Her breath caught at the predatory gleam in his wintry gaze.

  Then he smiled his wicked smile, and she felt as though she’d melt from the heat he induced.

  “Like an angel,” he answered softly.

  Julia smiled. She was still his angel, even though he knew she had secrets that she wasn’t sharing. The thought made her heart soar.

  “You cannot waste such a gown, Julia. We must go out and show it off.” Caroline was beaming. “That is, if you are not still tired?”


  “No, indeed. I feel as though I have slept for weeks,” answered Julia, trying to keep her mind on the conversation but getting more than a little distracted by the food on the table.

  Her stomach was howling for something to eat.

  “Well, afternoon calls will start after lunch, but I’m sure Mama won’t mind us taking a walk into the village. There is plenty to be done for the ball, of course, but we can take an hour or two out. There are some things I need in any case.” Caroline happily babbled on, and Julia stopped even pretending to listen.

  If only Caroline would sit and talk, Julia could then sit and eat and listen, all at the same time.

  Mercifully, Charles made a timely interruption.

  “Caro, Julia hasn’t eaten yet, and I’m sure she’s hungry. Why not let her eat before you decide your plans?”

  Julia could have kissed him. Actually, Julia could have kissed him whether he’d come to her rescue or not.

  “Of course, how silly of me.” Caroline immediately returned to her seat, and Julia finally took her place at the table.

  The dowager and the countess heaped praise on her too, and even Edward and Tom complimented her gown.

  Julia appreciated their praise, but, really, the only reaction she sought was Charles’s.

  And he did not look disappointed. In fact, every time she raised her eyes to look at him, she found him watching her with eyes so blazing hot that she almost felt them burn her skin.

  Lunch was a jolly affair for Julia; she ate her fill and more besides, making up for the last few days. She listened to the excited chatter about the upcoming ball. But mostly, she sat and quietly basked in the warmth of Charles’s desire for her.

  After the plates had been cleared, plans were quickly made to leave for the village, and Julia shot off to find Molly and her spencer, hat, and gloves.

  No doubt, it was far too cold to only go out in the spencer and dress, but Julia was loath to cover them with her old cloak. She hadn’t thought to purchase a new one.