by Joanna Shupe
He liked witnessing her outrage on his behalf. No one had ever spoken up for him before, not since his older sister, Clarissa, left for Chicago. He grinned. “Feeling the need to defend me, fair maiden?”
Instead of laughing, she nodded gravely, her expression serious. “Yes, I rather do, actually. You’re intelligent and kind, thoughtful and respectful. You earn an extraordinary living using gifts you’ve honed over the years, and you are certainly no hunchback ringing a tower bell. Why is she not bursting with pride?”
Julius rocked back on his heels. He’d never had anyone describe him in such a way before, and that it was this woman, the fake fiancée he’d met just weeks ago, stunned him. A desperate longing welled up in his chest, one he resolutely beat back. He could not entertain such foolish tenderness for Nora.
He swallowed hard. “Do not take it personally. She fears I’m too much like my father, obsessed with money and status to the detriment of all else. I have tried to tell her she’s mistaken, that I am different from him, but she refuses to believe me. And thank you.”
She lifted a shoulder and gripped the smooth wooden edge of the table with her hands. “You are welcome. I would gladly defend any of my friends.”
Friends. There was that word again. He was coming to hate it. “And I know better than to subject friends to my mother alone, so I apologize. I should have joined you the second she sat down. Come, we’ll return.”
“Fine, but you need not intervene. I’ll manage.”
He offered her his arm and began to lead her toward the front of the house. “Is that so? How will you manage, exactly?”
“I’ll let her say whatever she wants about you and smile serenely.”
“I am doubtful there is a serene bone in your body, Lady Nora.”
She laughed, her shoulders shaking and bumping into his. “You would be right. But I am able to fake it on occasion.”
“Well, I still plan on sitting in whether you need me or not.”
A very harried Brandywine appeared, clearly rattled. Julius stopped in his tracks. “Sir, a word,” the butler said.
“Out with it,” Julius said, his body tense. What the hell had happened?
“Sir, the stables are on fire.”
Chapter Thirteen
Covered in soot and ash, Julius stood with his hands on his hips and surveyed the damage to the two-story, twelve-horse stable. It had taken three city fire brigades, four hours, and over forty men to battle the blaze, but the fire had finally been put out mere moments ago. All things considered, it could have been much worse.
Fire had been the fear of every city dweller since the creation of cities. One spark could bring down an entire neighborhood. In fact, damn near the whole city of Chicago had burned a few decades before. So Julius considered himself lucky the fire had been contained to the stables, thanks to the quick response of his grooms and footmen when the flames erupted.
It was now the middle of the night, the dinner party long having broken up. Nora and her aunt had returned home, his family sent to bed, while Cortland had stayed to assist with battling the blaze. Nora’s uncle had carried buckets, held hoses, moved horses, and done anything and everything to lend a hand. Julius walked over to where he stood with the horses and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Cortland. Appreciate your help tonight.”
“Of course. You were fortunate. The worst of the damage is there in the back and you can rebuild it.”
The battalion chief approached and pushed his cap farther up on his head. “Mr. Hatcher, I think we’ve discovered the source of the fire, if you’d like to see.”
Julius and Cortland trailed the chief into the damp and dirty interior. They picked through the rubble until they reached the rear stall. The remnants of a blackened metal bucket sat on the ground, the area around it not as burned as the ceiling above. “I’d say someone packed that bucket with rags and kerosene, something flammable, and lit it on fire. The grooms sleeping directly above here said they first saw smoke coming up through the floor.”
Someone had set fire to his stables?
“You are saying this was deliberate?” he asked the battalion chief.
“Yes, sir. Without question. Based on the burn pattern around the bucket and the smoke, someone tried to burn your stables down.”
“God almighty,” Cortland exclaimed. “Arson?”
“Yes, sir,” the battalion chief repeated.
Julius rubbed his jaw. He would need to interview the grooms. Had anyone seen anything suspicious? Doubtful one of his current staff had set fire to the surroundings, but could it have been a disgruntled former staff member? He wasn’t aware of anyone being fired recently, so he’d need to speak to Brandywine.
“If that’s all, Mr. Hatcher, I’d like to let my men go on home.”
“Of course,” he told the battalion chief, and the three of them returned outside. “Please, pass on my heartfelt thanks to all of them.”
The battalion chief dipped his chin and touched the brim of his cap. “I will, sir. Good night.”
Julius and Cortland stood staring at the burned-out shell that remained of the stables. No horses had been lost, thank goodness, but plenty of damage had been caused all the same.
“Any idea who may be responsible?” Cortland asked.
“None. Hard to believe anyone would want to cause this much damage.” He glanced over his shoulder to locate Brandywine and instead saw his valet directing the footmen back inside the house. “Weaver!”
The valet’s head snapped up and he nodded at Julius. After one last instruction to a footman, he made his way over to where Julius stood with Cortland. “How may I be of assistance, sir?”
“Weaver, you always know the gossip in the house.”
The edges of Weaver’s mouth curled up. “Thank you, sir.”
“Any disgruntled members of the staff? Anyone fired recently? Is there any obvious person who would want to harm me or someone on the estate?”
“No, indeed not. Brandywine would know more, of course, but the only staff let go in recent memory was a footman found to be romancing too many of the housemaids. From all accounts, he left for Pittsburgh shortly after. I have heard of no grumblings or fiendish plots to set fire to the buildings here.”
“Thank you, Weaver. Please keep this to yourself. I would prefer the staff not learn that the fire was set deliberately.”
“Of course, sir.” Weaver bowed and started to turn, then caught himself. “Perhaps I should mention a small detail from earlier today, if you wish, sir.”
“I wish, I wish,” Julius drawled and motioned with his hand for Weaver to continue.
“A lamp was found missing from your sister’s bedchamber. She rang for a replacement and the original could not be located anywhere.”
“A lamp?” A lamp would be flammable enough to start a fire, especially if placed in a bucket with oily rags. Had his sister started the blaze in the stables? The idea was ludicrous. Agatha had never been fond of Julius but she’d never wanted to harm him or his property before.
“Yes, sir. Was there anything else?”
“No, thank you, Weaver.” He waved the valet away absently, his mind turning over the significance of a missing lamp, if any.
“Would your sister be capable of something so terrible?” Cortland asked.
“I cannot imagine Agatha responsible for this. She and I are not close, but she hasn’t been destructive in the past.”
“I sense that she does not approve of the way you live your life, the money and material things. Perhaps this is an attempt at forcing you to mend your ways?”
“Ha. She knows there’s absolutely no chance that will happen.”
Cortland slipped his hands in his trousers. “Hatcher, this makes me quite nervous. My niece will soon be living here and I would hate to think of her being hurt on your property. Whomever is responsible for this needs to be found and turned over to the authorities—quickly.”
Julius could not agree more regard
ing the culprit, but the comment rankled. “I have no intention of allowing any harm to befall your niece. The person who set tonight’s fire will be caught and dealt with as soon as possible.”
“Even if that person is related to you?”
“Yes,” he snapped, though he knew Agatha could not have done this. Whoever started this fire had done so with foresight and planning. The Agatha he remembered had been too hot-tempered, too reactionary to mastermind something of this nature. And his sister loved horses.
“Good,” Cortland said. “I know you care deeply for my niece but she is my responsibility, after all. At least until the two of you recite your vows.”
Which will be approximately never. And if Cortland only knew of the salacious plans Julius had for his niece . . . he’d likely punch Julius square in the face.
Not that it would deter Julius in the least. He had resolved himself tonight in the turret. Lady Nora would be his.
“And as long as my ring is on her finger, she is my responsibility as well,” he heard himself say. “A responsibility I take quite seriously.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” They stood in silence for a few minutes, the smoke from the stables disappearing into the cold night air.
“Sir.”
Julius spun to find Brandywine a few feet away, standing stiffer than usual. Oh, Christ. What now? “Yes, Brandywine?”
“Your office, sir. You should come straightaway.”
Hearing this, Julius broke into a run, not waiting for his butler or anyone else, cold panic working its way down his spine. What else could go wrong this evening? His shoes slapped on the marble floor inside and soon he skidded to a stop at the entrance to his office.
The room was chaos.
Overturned furniture. Paintings ripped from the walls. Rugs tossed aside. All his equipment broken and shoved out of the way. Papers everywhere.
Fucking hell.
“I do apologize, sir,” Brandywine said behind him. “The staff were all outside and no one noticed what was happening here.”
Julius put his hands on his hips. He blew out an angry breath and tried to bring himself under control. Hard when all he wanted to do right now was find the person responsible and pummel him. It was more than the inconvenience of the destruction; someone pawing through his private things felt like a violation.
What had they been looking for?
“This is not your fault, Brandywine,” he said through clenched teeth as he righted the broken ticker tape machine. He’d need to have a new one delivered first thing tomorrow. “Nor the staff. The fire was, rightfully so, your first priority.”
“Even still, I do not care for thieves and miscreants running about the house. I will speak to the staff in the morning to learn if anyone saw anything out of the ordinary.”
Out of the ordinary? Everything during the fire had been out of the ordinary. Julius paused in the midst of collecting ledgers. “Of course,” he murmured. The fire had been a way to distract from the real purpose: searching Julius’s office for the valuable stock. With everyone outside battling the flames, the intruder would have had ample time to look for the fictional shares.
The realization actually lifted his spirits quite a bit. This meant at least one of his father’s investment partners could still be alive—and still greedy.
“In the meantime,” Brandywine was saying, “I shall rouse a few maids to come down and—”
“No, that’s not necessary. Martin and I can put this all to rights in the morning. There’s no need to drag anyone from their bed.”
“Are you certain, sir? I would feel better knowing you were not terribly inconvenienced by this.”
Suddenly the inconvenience of the mess did not bother Julius. He held up his hand. “I appreciate the concern. But let’s all get to bed and handle this in the morning.”
The next morning Julius knocked on his mother’s door. He straightened his vest while he waited for her to answer. The maid assigned to look after his mother—much to his mother’s chagrin—had just informed him that she was awake and dressed. He’d hurried here, eager to set her straight regarding the way she’d treated Nora last night.
Fury still boiled his blood when he remembered the look on Nora’s face when his mother had accused her of marrying Julius for his money. Even from across the room, Nora’s horror, hurt, and indignation had been quite clear. His mother had no right to disrespect Julius’s fiancée, especially in his home.
The door quickly opened and his mother appeared. She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Julius. What do you want?”
“To speak with you about your behavior last night.” He slipped past her and into the room. A black traveling case rested on the floor, the room neat as a pin. “What’s this?”
“I’m leaving for Albany this morning.” She folded her hands at her waist.
“Because of the fire?”
“No, because there is no reason to stay.”
Yes, now that you’ve once again decided my choices are unacceptable. Business, home, wife . . . you never fail to find me lacking.
She smoothed the severe black skirts she wore. “We are no strangers to fire, Julius. I should think you would be more concerned with my reaction to your fiancée.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “That is what I came to speak with you about. I’m very unhappy with how you treated Nora last night. You were insufferably rude, Mother.”
“I didn’t deliberately set out to upset her, but someone had to say something. English aristocracy . . . The notion of it is laughable. Especially considering our family’s humble background.”
“Nevertheless, I have chosen to marry her.”
“And I hope you’ll reconsider. A woman like that will cause you nothing but grief.”
“How are you so certain?”
Before she could answer, the hall door opened. “Mother, we must—” His sister stopped suddenly, her gaze landing on Julius. “Oh. Hello, Julius.”
“I hear you’re leaving,” he said without preamble.
“Indeed.”
“Agatha, Julius was just asking me what we thought of his fiancée.” The two women exchanged a look.
“Well, honestly, Julius,” his sister said, now giving him her attention. “She’s clearly not respectful or demure. That one’s got a sharp tongue, and if you think she’ll be biddable once you wed her, you are fooling yourself. Is that what you want, dancing to her tune all your life?”
“I would not mind it one bit,” he shot back—and realized he meant it. “I happen to like her sharp tongue and a biddable woman would bore me to tears. She’s witty and clever, and the bravest woman I’ve ever met. A shame you two didn’t spend more time with her to see this for yourself, but I consider it your loss.”
If he ever changed his mind and decided to marry, a woman exactly like Nora would suit him perfectly. She would constantly challenge and surprise him, not to mention she was intelligent enough to be a true partner. And based on the kisses they’d exchanged, he knew the two of them would be more than compatible in the bedroom.
His mother made a sound in the back of her throat, one Julius recognized from his childhood and that never failed to set his teeth on edge. “Though she denied any interest in your money,” she said, “I saw what she wore last night. A gown like that probably cost thousands of dollars. Mark my words, she’ll expect you to keep her in the lifestyle to which she’s become accustomed.”
“I can afford a hundred of those gowns and more, Mother. You had no right to ask her whether she’s interested in my money.”
“I do have a right to know,” she said primly. “I am your mother, after all. I must look out for your best interest, even if I must save you from yourself.”
“I require no saving, madam. Those matters are private between my fiancée and me. Furthermore, you haven’t looked out for my interests since I was fourteen. Where is all this familial concern coming from?”
“Because we care about you,” his sister s
aid.
He shot both of them a disbelieving look. “You cannot chide me for the wealth I’ve acquired and then worry it’ll be stripped away in the same breath. None of this makes sense.”
His mother crossed her arms. “When she spends you into the poorhouse, you’ll see. She shall turn you into a man you hardly recognize, trying to set it right.”
“I’m not my father—and do not speak of Nora in such a disparaging manner again. If you disapprove of the match, then do not attend the wedding. God knows, I’ll not shed a tear.”
His mother gasped, her lips tightening. “That is a terrible thing to say to your mother and sister. I did not raise you to be so impertinent.”
“No, you raised me to believe I’ll never gain your approval no matter what I do. The difference is I no longer care about it.”
He strode to the door and put a hand on the latch. “Oh, and if either of you disrespects Nora to her face ever again, you’ll never see another nickel from me. I wish you a safe journey home.”
After a slight bow, he walked out and never looked back.
It was done.
Nora had agonized over the words for three full days. Through a torrent of tears and a haze of guilt she’d finally finished a letter to Robert, one that expressed her heartfelt sorrow over experiencing feelings for another man. She apologized for not telling him sooner and begged his forgiveness over the shabby treatment. Even though she and Julius would never marry, she didn’t see the need to inform Robert of that fact. To have offered him hope would be beyond cruel.
Instead, she told him not to wait on her. To live his life and find a woman who truly loved him back, without reservation. That was what he deserved.
She cried all afternoon after posting the letter. Heartbreak came in many different forms, and despite this being her fault she still felt the keen sting of the loss. Robert had been her first love, her first lover, the first keeper of her heart. She’d never planned to leave him but circumstances had intervened.
Life is offering you a push.
Of course Julius would see it that way. He had no loyalties to anyone save himself. At least what her aunt had said—that she’d learned the difference between infatuation and love when she met Uncle James—made some sense to Nora. What she felt for Julius was more confusing, more intense than anything she’d ever experienced before.