Damsel in Disguise (42 page)

“Yes, I suppose it must be,” Julia replied. “But aren’t you worried there might be some danger in this for you? After all, someone has gone to great trouble to keep that other locket, and poor Sophie is still missing.”

Lady Dashford’s face clouded. “Yes, poor Sophie. But Lindley assures us the minute she went missing, he sent a man to find her. Since she obviously didn’t come here, then she must have gone the other way, and he seems quite sure his man will find her before anything dreadful happens. I believe Lindley is quite honestly concerned for her.”

“I believe Lindley is quite honestly concerned only with himself,” Julia muttered.

Lady Dashford, obviously, had known only comfort and compassion in her life and, therefore, must see only that in others. Such a pity to pop the lady’s bubble now, but the notion of treasure did that. It brought out the worst in people, and apparently even Papa was not immune.

“We will find Sophie,” Lady Dashford assured her. “I take it you are her friend?”

Julia shook her head. “I barely know her. We met very recently when my father’s troupe was hired to perform at what turned out to be Mr. Fitzgelder’s home in London.”

Of course Julia had no intention of explaining the whole sordid story to her very proper hostess, but Lady Dashford seemed so interested. In the end, Julia gave her most of the tale, at least as far as it pertained to Sophie, all the way up to the point when Sophie was kidnapped at the posting house. By her father, apparently, which truly had been unexpected.

“So, do you believe it was her father who tried to shoot one of you at the posting house?” Lady Dashford asked.

“From what I’ve seen of him so far, that would seem to be the case. He appears to be a very violent man.” Too late, she remembered D’Archaud’s connection to Lady Dashford. “Oh. Sorry, my lady.”

But her hostess merely chuckled. “Believe me, even if he is a vandal and a cutthroat, I’d still choose him over my other living relatives any day. I’m just glad you and Sophie were able to get away from London without that dreadful Mr. Fitzgelder finding you. Posing as a man was brilliant, really. You were most convincing.”

“Really?” Julia couldn’t help but ask. “There were times I wasn’t entirely sure you didn’t suspect.”

“Well, I must say I was a bit confused when I noticed his boots on the floor in your chamber,” her ladyship answered with a blushing grin. “After all, it was difficult to reconcile my image of Lord Rastmoor with, well,
that
.”

By God, Julia felt her own cheeks reddening, also. “Yes, that episode was somewhat, er, discomfiting.”

“But now it all makes sense. It’s rather humorous in fact, don’t you think?”

Well, Julia didn’t know if she’d go so far as to call it that, but she was happy enough that her hostess did. It helped ease the mortification she would otherwise be feeling. Heavens, what must this lady think of her? Perhaps she ought to explain that entertaining gentlemen while a guest in someone’s home was not something she often engaged in.

“Really, I’m very sorry that—” Julia began, only to be interrupted by more knocking at her door.

Lady Dashford’s shrug confirmed that she had not expected anyone. Julia left her seat—which was just starting to feel comfortable—to see who was there. She cracked the door open only to have it shoved wide as some massive form swept through and gathered her into his arms.

Rastmoor
. He held her tight and breathed into her hair. “Sorry I left you so long. I hope—”

Lady Dashford demurely cleared her throat. Rastmoor quickly pried himself off Julia and took a step backward. He wore the expression of a guilty child. Julia couldn’t help but smile.

“You know,” Lady Dashford said, “I just recalled that I promised to meet with the housekeeper this afternoon. If you don’t mind, I’ll just go take care of that now.”

Rastmoor sputtered something about not wanting to interrupt or make the lady leave on his account, but she brushed him off with a coy smile and the wave of her hand.

“Miss St. Clement and I can continue our pleasant conversation at another time,” she said, passing them on her way to the door.

Julia thanked her for coming and gladly accepted the polite little hug the viscountess offered, though for the life of her she couldn’t guess what it was for. Perhaps her ladyship was just an affectionate sort. It was truly a shame she wouldn’t be at Hartwood long enough to actually establish a friendship with this kindhearted woman. Rastmoor gallantly held the door for her, but she paused to smile at him just as she headed into the hallway.

“You might try not to leave your boots sitting out in plain view this time,” she advised. “Just in case someone should drop by.”

With a knowing wink, she left them and let Rastmoor close the door behind her. Julia was only slightly surprised when he locked it.

“So what were you two ladies discussing?” he asked.

Julia sighed as if the subject matter bored her. “Oh, she wanted to know if you are as much the raging tiger in the bedroom as you’ve always bragged about being.”

He choked. “What? She didn’t really say that. Did she?”

Julia laughed and slid back into his arms where she’d been a moment ago. “No, I’m funning you. Lady Dashford is very proper and gracious, of course. She was merely making certain I was comfortable here and all my needs were being met.”

“Are they?” Rastmoor asked, pulling her closer to him.

“Well, for the most part. The food is excellent, and the accommodations are quite inviting.”

“And what of your other, er, needs?”

“Up until last night they were fine,” she said, hoping his manly pride wouldn’t be offended at the mention of it.

“Oh? And is that why you left?”

She could feel his arms go loose around her. Indeed, he was offended. She supposed at the very least he deserved an explanation.

“I left because I was worried for my father,” she said. “Giuseppe is a name he’s used before when we needed to avoid Fitzgelder. When I heard Dashford announcing he was here, at Loveland, I was afraid Fitzgelder’s men might find him there. I tried to send that note to warn him, but, as you know, that didn’t work out so well.”

“No, not so well at all.”

“So I had to go to him. Besides, I was afraid if I stayed here, I’d end up married to your sister!”

He smiled, but clearly he was not ready to laugh at the matter. “Yes, that was a bit awkward. Still, you should never have run off without telling me.”

“Would you have let me go if I had told you?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. Really, I thought it was for the best. You said it yourself: We distract each other. You need to focus on your family, on putting a stop to Fitzgelder’s schemes. That much hasn’t changed—we still don’t know where that locket is or how dangerous it is. And your sister . . . she’s so young and impulsive! She needs you, Anthony.”

“And I need
you
, Julia.”

She did love the way his fingers pressed into the small of her back as he said that, dragging her closer and wrapping her tight. It was easy to believe he really did need her, that his life was as meaningless without her as hers would be without him. But she knew, of course, it wasn’t true. Fitzgelder may have lied about many things three years ago, but he’d been right on one point: viscounts did not marry actresses.

Rastmoor might very well
want
Julia, but he did not
need
her. Not the way she needed him, and that was never to be. The longer she tormented herself by pretending she could enjoy Rastmoor today then somehow face the future without him, the more miserable that future would be.

“No, there isn’t time,” she said as his head dipped to bring his lips close to hers.

“Shh,” he said, brushing her lips with a featherlight kiss then going on to kiss her chin and her neck. “We have all the time in the world.”

“No,” she repeated. “There are too many other things . . .” But Lord, it was difficult to form words when he was doing this to her.

“Later,” he said. “We will deal with all those other things later.”

“But by then it will all be so much more complicated, more difficult,” she said, or rather, she tried to say. It was hard to talk with Rastmoor’s tongue introducing itself this way.

But really, she knew it didn’t matter. Rastmoor wasn’t paying attention to what she was trying to say, and neither was she. They were only interested in what they were trying to do, which was eagerly remove each other’s clothing. Once again, they were both far too distracted to worry about such silly things as tomorrow or forever.

 

 

“HOW MUCH LONGER BEFORE YOU’RE MISSED?” JULIA asked.

“Years, I’m sure,” he said and snuggled her more tightly against him.

“But won’t Dashford be looking for you? He must be eager to get that other locket or find some other way into that box.”

“No, he’s taking this time to gather men to go track down his missing cousin. We still haven’t heard from Lindley’s man, so Dashford has sent out some of his own.”

“Sending out a few men won’t take all afternoon.”

“No, but you forget the most important thing he’s got to do.”

“What’s that?”

“His poor wife is quite distraught. I’m sure he’ll want to spend hours and hours comforting her. And I assure you, I will not be needed for that.”

“Well, you’ve done an excellent job of comforting me,” she said and added a satisfied sigh just so he’d know how truthful she was.

He’d managed to loosen some of the fastenings at her back so her gown was drooping off one shoulder, and her skin prickled where he’d lavished hot kisses and hungry caresses. Indeed, though she had no doubt what the future would inevitably bring for them, she would allow herself to be content right now, wrapped up in Anthony’s arms.

“But what about, er, your mother?” she couldn’t help but ask. “She’s going to hear about this, that you brought me here. You need to talk to her.”

He sighed and pulled himself away from her. “Woman, you do know how to kill the mood.”

“She’s your mother, and she cares about you. I can’t imagine she’ll be happy to find out I’ve been here, lying to her, all along.”

“She knows what a monster Fitzgelder is. She’ll understand.”

“Will she?” Julia asked. “I wouldn’t, not if I were in her position. No, I’d be furious and, well, hateful toward the both of us. You need to go to her.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No! Of course not, but she needs you.”

“And what about you, Julia? Do you need me?”

She smiled as best she could, realizing her answer would send him away. “Not for another hour or two, I suppose.”

HE HONESTLY WISHED SHE’D TAKEN HIS QUESTION A bit more seriously, but of course she hadn’t. Things between them had been serious once; it would take some time to build up to that level of trust again. He could wait, at least for that hour or two, he supposed.

“Very well, I’ll do as you command,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss then detaching himself from her again. “I’ll go present myself to my mother and convince her you are not the devil incarnate. Then while I’m at it, I’ll break the sad news to Penelope. Her dreams of marrying an opera singer will be crushed.”

She did laugh at that. He’d hoped she would. “Don’t be too very surprised if she’s not as crushed as you might expect. I think Penelope is a bit smarter than you give her credit.”

“Oh, indeed,” he said, adjusting his trousers and smoothing out his coat. “After all, she gave the locket to Fitzgelder and tried to get herself engaged to a woman. Yes, she’s a bright one.”

“I don’t know . . .” Julia said, helping him straighten his cravat with a practiced hand.

In return, he moved behind her and retightened her gown. “I’ll make sure to give Penelope the distressing news in a kind, gentle fashion. In the meanwhile, I want you to assure me you’ll stay here.”

“Don’t worry. Lady Dashford informed me her husband is insisting Papa stay until things are cleared up. It appears I have no choice but to stay here.”

“Wonderful! But what I meant was I want you to stay here, in your room.”

“In my room? But I should go down to find Papa.”

“No. Now that Fitzgelder knows who you are, you’re in danger. I’m convinced he’s not given up his efforts to take his petty revenge, and I don’t know that we can trust this D’Archaud fellow, either. Plus, Dashford has given Lindley free run of the place. To tell the truth, he’s who I find most likely to be the one to have switched the lockets.”

“What? But what would Lindley have to gain by that?”

“I don’t know. But if Fitzgelder switched them, why would he have been so motivated to find Sophie to get it back? I would simply feel much safer for you if I knew you were not aimlessly roaming about. Will you promise?”

“I will stay safe.”