by Joyce Alec
“Now, what have we here?” the doctor asked, looking down at her with a kind expression, although his blue eyes were glinting with a clear intelligence. “Whatever happened to you?”
Julia felt her eyes fill with sudden tears but forced them back. “I do not know,” she answered honestly as the doctor pulled up a chair and picked up her hand, turning it gently left and then right as he scrutinized the wound. “Lord Stephen thinks it may have been a knife.”
The doctor looked toward Lord Stephen with a shrewd glance. “Then Lord Stephen would be correct, Miss Hawkins,” he said, clearly having been told her name by Mrs. Law. “It looks to be so to me, although it is not very deep.”
“I… I put my hand up instinctively when I saw the flash of the blade,” she answered, trying to distract herself from the pain that came from whatever it was the doctor was putting on her arm. “I think they might have been attempting to put the knife near to my heart.” It was difficult for her to speak those final words, but she did so regardless, forcing them from her lips and seeing how Lord Stephen’s eyes grew all the more angry.
“Perhaps,” the doctor said quietly. “You have been very lucky that it was not worse, Miss Hawkins.”
She swallowed hard and felt tears fall to her cheeks. She had no clear understanding of why someone would have tried to attack her in such a fashion, and given how Lord Stephen was glaring angrily at the wall, his jaw working furiously, neither did he.
The door suddenly flew open and Lord Bentham stumbled in, one hand pressed against his heart.
“There was nothing,” he said, speaking directly to Lord Stephen. “Nothing but three very confused older ladies sitting in what had been vacant chairs during our dance.” He shook his head, spreading his hands. “I do not know what else I can do to help, but…” Trailing off, he turned to her as though he was only just aware of her. “You have the doctor with you now, Miss Hawkins.”
“I do,” she answered, seeing the color slowly return to Lord Bentham’s face and deciding that he had nothing to do with what had just happened. He appeared much too shocked, much too overcome to have had anything to do with it. “I am sure I shall be well recovered and able to return to the ball—”
“No!”
Lord Stephen’s exclamation sucked everything else from the room. Silence fell, with even the doctor looking at him with one arched eyebrow.
“No, Miss Hawkins,” Lord Stephen said firmly, looking at her with a steady gaze. “You should not return to the ball, not if you wish to remain safe. The person who did this might very well attempt to injure you again.”
She lifted her chin, wincing just a little as the doctor began to wrap a strip of cloth around her arm. “All the more reason for my return,” she answered resolutely. “I will not show any sort of fear, I will not run away from this nor hide myself away.”
“But we do not know why—”
“I am aware of that,” she answered, before he could say more. “But even if we do not yet know the reason for someone’s attempt to push the blade toward my heart, I will not show a single ounce of fear. I am sure I will be quite safe if I remain close to you and to my friends.” Her heart was beating much too quickly for her liking, despite her calm outward appearance. There was still a good deal of fear lingering around her, but she was determined not to give in to it. To hide now, to escape back home—as much as she wanted to do so—would only give the person responsible a sense that they had been successful. If she had learned anything with what had happened between Lord and Lady Haddington last Season, it was that one had to be brave when it came to such difficulties as this.
“You will remain with her, will you not, Lord Stephen?” Miss Seymour asked, breaking the silence that had followed her words. “As will I. Lord and Lady Haddington are also present this evening, as are Lady Catherine and Lady Ann.”
“And your brother, Miss Hawkins.”
Julia shook her head sharply at Mrs. Law’s suggestion, seeing the lady’s cheeks color red as she saw Julia’s look. Mrs. Law might be doing the right thing in suggesting that she call Lord Steele to help, but Julia knew that her brother would either simply send her home or decide that society and the Season were too much trouble and that he would take control of her situation from now on. Besides which, if Mrs. Law were to go in search of Lord Steele, he would be able to smell the liquor on her breath.
“I do not think my brother needs to be troubled,” she said clearly, her eyes now dry and her arm seeming to sting just a little less as the doctor finished his ministrations. “I will be quite safe without his presence, if I have my friends here.”
Lord Stephen looked as though he wanted to argue, his jaw set and his eyes a little narrowed, but in the end he merely sighed and looked away.
“Very well,” he said as Miss Seymour handed the bowl back to the maid without a qualm over the red-stained water. “But you must rest, Miss Hawkins, until you have regained your strength.”
“I will rest in the ballroom,” she answered with as much dignity as she could muster. “My arm feels a good deal better.” She smiled at the doctor and rose quickly, relieved that there were no bloodstains on her gown as she had feared. “I thank you.”
“I could give you something for the pain,” he offered, looking at her. “But I think you would refuse it.”
She nodded. “I would,” she answered as Miss Seymour took her arm. “But thank you for your help.”
The doctor nodded. “You should have it looked over again in a day or so,” he said. “The wound will need to be rebound.”
“I will pay for your trouble,” Lord Stephen said quickly, before she could answer. “Thank you.”
The doctor nodded, smiled, and quit the room, leaving Julia to follow him, leaning on Miss Seymour’s arm. Lord Stephen came after them, whilst Lord Bentham promised to go and speak to their host and tell her that all was well. Julia tried to breathe as normally as she could but even re-entering the ballroom made her feel quite anxious. It felt as though everyone was looking at her, making her fear that someone would lurch out toward her from the crowd, the flashing blade in their hand. Part of her wanted to turn around and walk straight back out again, to demand that the carriage be called so that she could hurry back home to safety, but another part of her refused to give in to her otherwise legitimate fear. She did not want to shirk from it, did not want to show the perpetrator that she had any intention of hiding herself away as, perhaps, they had intended her to do.
“You are doing very well, Miss Hawkins,” Miss Seymour murmured. “Look, I can see Lady Haddington.”
Lord Stephen cleared his throat and, with a swift motion, put his arm under hers so that she was supported on either side. Julia leaned into him willingly, feeling her legs begin to wobble as the shock of what had happened finally began to wear off, leaving her feeling tired and quite weak.
“Let me go and fetch her whilst you sit down,” Miss Seymour said hastily, letting go of her arm now that Lord Stephen had her. “I will not be a moment.”
Lord Stephen helped her to sit down in a vacant chair which, much to her relief, was in a quieter part of the ballroom so that she would not garner a good many looks or stares from anyone. Lord Stephen looked from left to right as he stood a little in front of her, clearly protective.
“I cannot understand why anyone would want to harm you,” he muttered, turning slightly to look down at her. “You truly have no knowledge as to why?”
She shook her head, her throat constricting as she looked across the room to where she had been when the knife had appeared. That corner of the room was so dark and shadowy that she suspected it would most likely be used by gentlemen attempting to steal a kiss from a lady. That was the case at so many balls, for whilst candles were aplenty, there were always one or two darker places to hide.
“I should never have…” Lord Stephen broke off, shaking his head.
“You are not to take the blame,” she insisted, reaching out and taking his hand tightly, and seeing the reacti
on in his eyes as he looked at her. “This is not your doing. It can have nothing to do with you.”
“Then for what other reason would someone seek to attack you with such force that you might very well now be lying dead on the floor?” he asked, his words hitting her hard as the blood drained from her face. “If not related to my brother’s attack, then what other reason can there be?”
Her throat was burning now as she forcibly held back tears. The urge to break down completely, to burst into tears and to allow her confusion and her pain to run free, grew steadily but she prevented herself with nothing other than sheer determination. Lord Stephen squeezed her hand and hunkered down, his face a mask of guilt.
“I should not have spoken so harshly,” he said, now looking deeply into her eyes. “I am truly sorry, Miss Hawkins, if I have brought you more sorrow.”
She made to speak, to tell him that he did not need to apologize, only for the figure of Lady Haddington to come swooping down over her, her expression one of sheer horror as she clutched at Julia’s shoulder. For some moments, Julia was caught up in an explanation of what had occurred, whilst Lord Haddington and Lord Stephen spoke quietly together, their faces grim.
“We must get everyone together,” Lady Haddington said firmly, when Julia had a chance to collect herself. “All of the ladies must be together so that we can puzzle this out. You cannot be permitted to continue on through society with the danger of someone attacking you hanging over your head.”
“We could all gather tomorrow at my townhouse, if you wish it,” Lord Stephen said, seemingly in agreement that something had to be done. “I can offer no insight, I am afraid, but my home is—”
“Wait.” Julia put up one hand, silencing them all. Something had just come back to her, something of great importance, and possibly relevant to what had happened to her. “I have remembered something.”
Everyone was looking at her now, their eyes fixed tightly to hers.
“I remember something,” she said softly, as the memory of the strange footman came back into her mind, just as she recalled how she had caught a glimpse of a dark-haired fellow turning away from the scene where Lord Atherton lay stabbed. “Something that I meant to mention to you earlier, Lord Stephen, which I then chose not to.”
Lord Stephen sucked in a breath. “What is it, Miss Hawkins?” he asked, coming closer to her again as her friends encircled her, allowing her to feel safe and protected.
“I think,” she said quietly, “that I recognized someone within your brother’s household staff, Lord Stephen. I recognized him this afternoon because he was present at the time of your brother’s stabbing.”
She looked around the group, seeing Lady Haddington’s eyes widening with shock, whilst Lord Haddington frowned heavily.
“Who is it, Miss Hawkins?” Miss Seymour asked, sinking into a chair beside her. “Who did you recognize?”
“One of the footmen,” she said, her tone somber. “One of the footmen at your brother’s townhouse was there when your brother was stabbed.”
There was a moment when everyone began to frown, making Julia realize that it was quite normal for a footman to have been present at the ball.
“What I mean to say is that he was watching Lord Atherton, without any discernible purpose,” she explained as Lord Stephen began to nod. “And then he turned away with a dark expression on his face and went out into the gardens.”
Lord Stephen took in a long breath then let it out just as slowly. “Then you recognized him, you say?” he asked intently. “Are you quite sure?”
“I am,” she answered, a slight flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks as she realized just how foolish she must sound. “It struck me just how strange it was for a servant to look at me so directly and with such a sense of anger smoldering in his gaze. I was so disconcerted that I was forced to look away.”
Again, there came a short silence, which was only broken by Miss Seymour’s firm voice.
“I think that if Miss Hawkins believes that there is something untoward about this footman, then I would accept her word,” she said, putting a gentle hand on Julia’s shoulder. “It would give you something to go on at least, would it not?”
Lord Stephen began to nod with such severity that for a moment, Julia wanted to laugh at his obvious desire to agree with Miss Seymour.
“But of course,” he answered quickly. “If you say that you believe there is some significance with this footman, who should certainly not have looked at you in such a manner, Miss Hawkins, then I absolutely accept your word. We must meet tomorrow at my brother’s townhouse, and you can show me which footman you speak of.”
Julia managed a small smile, not betraying her sudden sense of worry that came with the idea of having to point out one footman over the others, suddenly afraid that she had made a mistake in being so forthright.
“Tomorrow afternoon, then,” Lady Haddington agreed, looking both relieved and concerned. “I shall call for you, Miss Hawkins.”
“If it is no trouble,” Lord Stephen interrupted, a slow flush of color creeping up his neck and going into his face, “I should like to call for Miss Hawkins. After all, I fear it is because of my family that such an injury has occurred.” His eyes darted to hers, then away again as though he feared she might object. “But I should not want to stand in your way, Lady Haddington.”
Lady Haddington glanced at Julia, who herself felt a hint of warmth creep into her cheeks.
“I think, Lord Stephen, that you will find neither myself nor Miss Hawkins refusing your request,” she said, and Lord Stephen looked back toward Julia, who found it quite difficult to meet his eyes. “I look forward to discussing this matter in greater detail tomorrow, in the hope that we can form some sort of conclusion.” She reached down to pat Julia’s hand. “And I hope your arm recovers quickly.”
“I thank you,” Julia answered, her voice heavy with meaning as she saw the gleam hitting Lady Haddington’s eyes. “And my heart holds the very same hope, I confess.” For then who knows what might follow, should there be no more trouble, she said silently to herself, her eyes returning to Lord Stephen, only to see that he was looking directly at her with what appeared to be the very same hope flickering in his eyes.
9
The following afternoon, Stephen arrived promptly at Lord Steele’s home, standing at the door for only a moment before it was pulled open to reveal Miss Hawkins standing waiting for him just on the threshold.
His heart lifted skywards at the sight of her, his eyes practically dazzled by the delicate smile that adorned her face.
“Good afternoon, Lord Stephen,” she said, making to step forward. “How do you fare today?”
He hesitated, wondering if he should tell her that he had slept very little, his mind tormented with a good many thoughts and questions over what she had revealed to him, only to decide that there was no need for her to know of it.
“I am well,” he answered, stepping to one side to reveal his carriage. “Are you ready, Miss Hawkins?” He did not want to ask about her arm until they were gone from the house, remembering what she had said about her brother. It was just as well he did not, for just as Miss Hawkins was about to step forward, a loud voice rattled down the staircase toward the front door, halting her in her path.
“What, ho!”
Miss Hawkins went a shade of scarlet and turned her head whilst Stephen stood as tall as he could, his shoulders down and his head held high. He wanted to make a strong impression upon Miss Hawkins’ brother, although he was not quite certain as to the impetus behind it.
“Ah, my dear sister,” said a loud voice as a gentleman strode toward them, having clattered down the stairs only a few moments before. “Are you to leave me alone again for yet another afternoon?” His hazel eyes, so similar in color to Miss Hawkins’, turned toward Stephen. “And with company, I see.”
“Mrs. Law is to accompany me, of course,” Miss Hawkins murmured, her cheeks still flushed. Turning back to Stephen
, she spread her arm out toward him. “This is my brother, Viscount Steele.” Her eyes did not lift to his, her blush betraying her embarrassment.
“I know who you are, of course,” Lord Steele grinned as Stephen inclined his head. “And you are to take my sister out for a carriage ride?”
Clearing his throat to get rid of his sense of embarrassment, Stephen tried to smile. “We are to take tea with some acquaintances,” he said, by way of explanation. “I presume there is no concern as to that?”
Lord Steele laughed and Miss Hawkins blushed all the more. “No, there is nothing to concern me at all,” he answered with a slight nudge of his elbow into Miss Hawkins’ arm, making her wince. “Do have an excellent afternoon, Julia.”
It was on the tip of Stephen’s tongue to remind Lord Steele that his sister had injured her arm, only to catch the sharp look from Miss Hawkins. Realizing that she had not spoken to her brother about her arm, Stephen quickly cleared his throat, bowed toward Lord Steele, and then gestured toward the carriage.
“Shall we, Miss Hawkins?” he asked as Miss Hawkins nodded to her brother and then preceded Stephen out of the door and toward the carriage. Stephen followed hastily, with Mrs. Law falling into step behind him. Within a few minutes, they were all safely ensconced in the carriage, although even as the carriage pulled away, Miss Hawkins would not quite look him in the eye.
“Please, do not feel at all embarrassed,” he said quietly, so as to bring Miss Hawkins a little relief. “I should have made sure to have introduced myself to your brother already. It was an oversight not to have done so.”
“You would have been hard pressed to find him,” she answered with a small yet rueful smile. “He is often in the card room rather than engaging with society.”
He chuckled and finally, Miss Hawkins looked directly at him. “I think you have said so already,” he told her with a grin. “But perhaps it is to my advantage that he is a little less watchful than a brother might otherwise be. I should not complain, I think.”