A few minutes later, as they climbed the steep road, the majesty of the residence almost stole Quinn’s breath. A far cry from the narrow Barnardo building in downtown Toronto, this house sprawled on a wide expanse of property. Some rich benefactor must have bestowed this land to be used for children. How else could a home for orphans afford such luxury?
As they reached the front door, Quinn stopped to wait for Julia.
“It’s magnificent,” she breathed. “I hadn’t pictured anything so grand.”
“Nor did I. I’m going to take this as a positive sign that Becky has had good care.” He looked down at her. “Are you ready?”
“Ready.”
“Right, then. After you.” He held the door open for her to enter. She tilted her chin, gathered her skirts, and swept in the door.
Quinn blinked, certain he’d just witnessed Julia putting on her battle armor, and in that instant, he was very glad he’d agreed to let her do the talking. He tugged his waistcoat into place and followed her inside.
“Good day, ma’am,” Julia said to the woman at the reception desk. Her aristocratic tone held exactly the right mixture of cheerfulness and steel, much like Lady Brentwood when she spoke to the servants. “We’d like to speak with the directress, if you’d be so kind.”
The woman removed her spectacles, a slight frown wrinkling her brow. “May I ask what this is about?”
“It concerns one of the girls who was sent here.”
The woman opened her mouth, most likely to argue, but Julia cut her off. “I understand your need for privacy and that you aren’t able to give out certain information, which is why we wish to speak to the directress herself.”
Quinn held his cap in front of him, willing himself not to fidget.
The woman’s lips pinched together as she rose. “One moment and I’ll see if Mrs. Whitaker has time to see you.”
As soon as they were alone, Quinn let out a long breath. “What is your plan if she’s not available?”
“We’ll have to play it by ear.” She turned to him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “If all else fails, you might have to use your good looks to charm the lady.”
He blinked at her. Was Julia flirting with him?
Footsteps sounded as the receptionist returned. “Mrs. Whitaker can spare five minutes. If you’ll follow me, please.”
Without waiting for them, she spun and headed back down the hallway.
Quinn gave himself a shake, pulling his thoughts away from this confident, flirtatious Julia and how pretty she looked today. He needed to concentrate on this meeting. His sister’s well-being could depend on it.
The receptionist stopped in front of an open door and gestured for them to enter. Quinn waited for Julia to precede him into the room.
Behind a rather cluttered desk, a middle-aged woman rose. “Good afternoon. I’m Mrs. Whitaker, the directress.” She looked at Quinn first, so he stepped forward.
“I’m Quinten Aspinall, and this is Miss Julia Holloway.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Whitaker,” Julia said with a charming smile. “You have a beautiful residence here.”
A bit of the wariness left the woman’s face. “Thank you. We’re quite proud of it. Won’t you have a seat?”
As soon as they did, Mrs. Whitaker looked at Quinn. “From your surname, Mr. Aspinall, I believe I can surmise why you’re here.” One brow rose. “You must be a relative of Rebecca Aspinall.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m her older brother.” He paused. Admitting he was here to make sure his sister wasn’t being mistreated wouldn’t get him very far. “I’ve come to see how she’s doing and to give her news of our mother.”
“Your mother? Rebecca wasn’t an orphan when she came to our organization?”
“No, ma’am. My mother was left a widow with four children to raise on her own.”
Julia leaned forward on her chair. “Quinn went to work to help support the family, but for the last few years, he’s been away at war.”
Mrs. Whitaker murmured something sympathetic. “This war has been a terrible tragedy for both our countries.”
“Indeed it has.” Quinn straightened against the seat.
Julia glanced over at him, then focused back on the directress. “You can imagine Quinn’s distress when he returned to England only to learn that his younger siblings had been sent to Canada. That, on top of his mother’s ill health, was almost too much to bear.” Julia took out a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed at her eyes.
Quinn tensed. Julia was laying it on rather thick. Mrs. Whitaker seemed to be a clever woman, one who wouldn’t be taken in by dramatics.
Before Julia could say anything more, he jumped in. “I’ve come to ask your help in finding my sister, ma’am. I need to know she’s all right and to tell her I’ve found our brothers.”
“You have? Were they also sent through Dr. Barnardo’s organization?”
“They were.”
“And the people in charge told you where your brothers were placed?”
Quinn hesitated. How could he answer this question without incriminating someone?
“I can’t tell you how much seeing his brothers has eased Quinn’s mind,” Julia added quickly, as though she feared he might say something to jeopardize their mission. “Now, if we can just do the same for Becky, he’ll be able to give his mother the good news that her children are doing well.” She gave the woman a watery smile.
Mrs. Whitaker looked at her with a slight frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your connection to the Aspinalls.”
Julia’s mouth fell open, and she blinked. “Really? I thought for certain we told you—”
“Julia is my fiancée,” Quinn interjected. He darted a quick glance at Julia, hoping she wouldn’t appear too shocked. Though he hated telling an untruth, he hoped he would be forgiven in this instance, with the gravity of Becky’s situation hanging in the balance.
Julia met his gaze, her cheeks growing pinker, then turned her focus back to the directress with a wide smile.
“Oh, I see. No wonder you’re so invested in his family.” Mrs. Whitaker beamed at them, then folded her hands on the desktop. “Normally, I’m reluctant to give out any information on our children, but I can see you’re concerned about your sister.” She released a sigh. “Let me assure you that Rebecca is doing very well. She has an excellent placement now, one that suits her in every way.”
Now? The hairs on Quinn’s neck rose. “What do you mean by ‘now’?” he all but growled. Only the weight of Julia’s hand on his arm kept him from jumping out of his chair.
“Nothing to worry about, Mr. Aspinall.” She twisted a pen through her fingers. “Rebecca had a bad fit with her first placement and returned here for several weeks until we found a more suitable home for her. That was about four years ago. Now she’s working for one of the most prestigious families in Peterborough.” She gave a laugh that was a touch too loud.
Quinn wanted to slam his hand on the desk and force the woman to give him the information he needed. But losing his temper would eliminate every chance of gaining the directress’s cooperation. At any rate, he’d learned Becky was living in Peterborough, which meant he wouldn’t have to travel to another destination. That much, at least, was good news.
“How wonderful,” Julia said. “Mrs. Whitaker, I hope you understand how much it would mean to see Becky in person. Would you be able to arrange that for us?”
The woman looked from Julia to Quinn. “I can’t guarantee anything, since it will be up to her employer, but I could contact them and let them know of your situation. Perhaps on Rebecca’s next afternoon off, she might be able to meet with you.”
Frustration screamed through Quinn’s tense muscles. “Her next day off? When would that be?”
“Now, Quinn.” Julia squeezed his arm a tad roughly. “Mrs. Whitaker is doing her best to help. Why don’t we give her a moment to place the call?” She rose and looked at the directress. “We’ll wait outside to gi
ve you some privacy.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Whitaker inclined her head and reached for the candlestick telephone on her desktop.
With little choice, Quinn got to his feet and followed Julia into the hall. He pushed his fingers through his hair as he paced the narrow corridor, not caring if he looked like a wild man.
Julia gave him a stern look. “Don’t lose your patience, Quinn. Not when we’re so close to our goal.”
“How can you say that? I doubt Becky’s employer will allow us to see her. And then what will we do? It’s not like a farm. I can’t just waltz into their house and look for her.”
She came a step closer and stared into his eyes. “Then we will leave it up to God. I know He’s watching out for us. Everything will work out as it’s meant to.”
Quinn envied Julia’s faith, her absolute conviction that all would be well. If only he could be so certain. He forced himself to calm down and think logically about their next step. “What if we can’t see Becky today? Are you sure you don’t mind staying in Peterborough overnight?” At least he’d had the foresight to suggest she bring a change of clothes, just in case.
Julia hesitated for a second, then smiled sweetly. “That depends. Are you offering to pay for your fiancée’s hotel room?”
Heat blasted up Quinn’s neck. He’d forgotten about his fib. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that, but—”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind her thinking we’re a couple.”
“You don’t?”
Her cheeks grew rosy, but she didn’t look away. “Any girl would consider herself fortunate to be marrying you.”
Quinn swallowed. How he wished they were somewhere else at this moment. Somewhere more private, where he might give in to the urge to kiss her and show her how much he truly admired her.
The door opened and Mrs. Whitaker walked toward them, smiling.
“Mr. Aspinall, I have good news. When Mrs. Sebring learned Rebecca’s brother was here from England, she insisted on you coming to see her tomorrow. They’ve arranged for Rebecca to have the afternoon off so you’ll have time to visit. Isn’t that generous of them?”
Relief flooded his body, and Quinn managed a genuine smile. “It is indeed.”
She handed them a piece of paper. “Here’s the address. Be there at one o’clock. Rebecca will be expecting you.”
CHAPTER 16
Julia looked up at the sign on the redbricked building in front of them. The Oxford Hotel appeared to be an eminently respectable establishment. Then why did she feel so nervous about staying there? Perhaps it was because she’d be posing as Quinn’s fiancée. A turn of events she found rather unsettling since the idea of having him as her partner and protector appealed to her far more than it should.
“Does the place not suit you?” Quinn’s voice jarred her from her thoughts. “If it doesn’t, we can always find another hotel.”
“It looks lovely.” She smiled. “I hope it’s not expensive.” She’d gotten so used to living in poverty over the past months that her former luxurious lifestyle was no more real than the wisps of cloud drifting overhead. Yet this man, a servant in her uncle’s estate, now had more money than she did.
“Don’t worry. I have enough funds to cover the cost and to treat you to a nice dinner as well.” Quinn’s grin lit his gray eyes, creating appealing crinkles at the corners.
It was good to see him in better spirits. The fact that he was going to see his sister tomorrow must have finally sunk in. Still, a meal in the hotel would probably be pricey.
“A fancy dinner isn’t necessary,” she said quickly. “I’d be fine with a sandwich.”
“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do to thank you for coming with me.” Quinn opened the door and waited for her to enter the lobby.
In no time, he’d arranged for two rooms on the second floor and had escorted Julia to her door. “I’ll be in the next room if you need me. Would an hour give you enough time to freshen up before dinner?”
“That would be perfect.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
Once Julia had entered her room and locked the door, she heard Quinn’s retreating footsteps.
She took a moment to look around the elegant space that contained a large bed, a dresser with a washstand, and a Tiffany lamp on the night table. The plush carpeting beneath her feet gave the room a definite feel of luxury. She sighed as she set her bag down, thankful Quinn had insisted she bring a small overnight case. From his experience with finding his brothers, he’d learned these matters weren’t always settled as quickly as he hoped.
Julia removed her hat and set it on the dresser, fatigue suddenly weighing her down. She climbed onto the bed to rest for a minute, sinking into the comfy pillow and mattress. What a far cry from the horrid bed in Mr. Ketchum’s building. She still couldn’t believe how fortunate she was to have escaped her landlord’s grasp. And all because of Quinn.
A loud rapping noise brought her out of sleep.
“Julia? Are you all right?” Quinn’s deep voice sounded through her door.
“Y-yes. I’m fine. Sorry, I must have dozed off.” She pushed off the bed, her head suddenly spinning. How had an hour passed so quickly? “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“No need to rush. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
Julia used the lavatory down the hall and washed her face and hands. Back in her room, she re-pinned her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. She wished she had a better outfit, one more suited to eating in the dining room, but her day dress would have to do.
She picked up her handbag and the room key and went to find Quinn.
The lobby was abuzz with patrons, but Julia easily spotted him. He stood by the dining room entrance, posture erect, hands clasped behind him. Julia stifled a smile at his servant’s stance, which must be second nature to him. Yet to her, it embodied a watchfulness and protection that made her feel safe.
She paused at the foot of the stairs, memories stirring of her and Amelia racing through the halls of Brentwood. Once, in trying to keep up with her cousin, Julia had slipped on a carpet that slid from under her, and she would have fallen if a certain valet hadn’t caught her by the elbow and steadied her.
“Careful, miss. Those floors can be hazardous.”
She remembered being breathless from her dash and looking into the handsome young man’s face, his serious demeanor belied by the twinkle in his eye.
“Thank you.” Her face had turned warm, and she’d hoped he thought it from the exertion of running, not from being flustered by his touch.
Now, as she caught Quinn’s intense gaze on her, the same heat crept into her cheeks. She lifted her chin and headed toward him, chiding herself for her foolish fantasies. Back then, she’d been a silly girl, mooning over a servant, yet the same impossible class structure still remained. She laid a palm over her abdomen to remind herself of the other important reason why a romance with Quinn was simply not an option.
A far more insurmountable reason, to be sure.
Quinn looked up to see Julia coming toward him, and his pulse sprinted to life. Her cheeks bloomed with color, and her eyes glowed as brightly as the chandelier above them.
“Julia. You look lovely and well rested.” He held out an elbow to escort her into the dining room. “I took the liberty of reserving us a table.”
“Thank you. I think I could eat an entire roast right now.”
Quinn laughed. “That I’d like to see.”
The maître d’ led them through the crowded room to their table, where Quinn pulled out a plush velvet chair for Julia. Each round table had a small lit candle in the center and a vase with a long-stemmed rose. White-and-gold china plates shone in the flickering light. Murmurs of intimate conversation and the clinking of silverware lingered in the air, punctuated every so often by a burst of laughter.
Julia opened the menu to scan the entrées. Trying to control his pulse rate, Quinn couldn’t seem to focus
on the words. He set the menu aside. “Your mention of roast beef has made me crave the prime rib,” he said. “What do you fancy?”
She glanced up. “The fried chicken and mashed potatoes sounds delicious.”
“Indeed. That was my second choice.”
The waiter arrived to take their order and brought a basket of bread. As soon as he left, Julia lifted the napkin from the warm rolls. “Do you mind if I start on one of these?”
“Not at all. I’m glad you don’t want to wait.”
She passed him the basket with a shy smile.
It suddenly felt to Quinn like they were on a real date. Did she feel it too? Judging from the quick glances she was giving him and the way she kept biting her lip, Julia appeared somewhat nervous. Perhaps it would be better to keep the conversation casual, pretend as though the tension between them didn’t exist. He certainly didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“What do you miss most about England?” Quinn asked as he buttered a roll.
Her shoulders relaxed. “I suppose it would be the rain.”
He laughed. “Really? You miss feeling soggy?”
“In a way, yes. I loved walking over the grounds at my uncle’s estate in the rain. Seeing the green of the grass and the mist over the moors. Smelling the freshness in the air.” Her features softened, her gaze far away.
Perhaps she was homesick after all. And perhaps Quinn could use this moment to remind her how perfect it would be for her to come back to England with him. “Ah yes. That’s a smell I’ve yet to experience over here. And I do love the coziness of a fire in the hearth when it’s raining.”
“Me too.”
“I miss good English home cooking, scones and cream, and the tea . . . It’s just not the same here. I’ll be glad to get back—”
“I know what you’re doing,” she said quietly. “You’re trying to make me remember all the things I miss back home so I’ll want to go with you.”
He set his bread down, one brow quirking up. “Did I succeed?”
The Brightest of Dreams Page 13