A very cold reception awaited her when she returned home. Or a very hot one. Who knew how these upper-class types would react when riled? As long as she remained at Lady Hays’shome, she could pretend all was well. She had not had so many interesting challenges since her father had passed away. Their time together was drawing to a close, and Audrey admitted knowing this filled her with a feeling of desolation.
“Perhaps … now that the killer knows where you live …” Audrey stopped, reluctant to propose the end to their excursions. She had enjoyed unfamiliar sights and sounds, discovered parts of London she would never revisit on her own, eaten dodgy food bought on the street, and savored strawberries all the more sweet because of the handsome beau who had purchased them for her. One could almost pretend he was courting her. Almost.
She fidgeted with the skirts of her mourning gown while her conscience fought with her desires.
Julius leaned forward, arching an eyebrow in question. She stared at his handsome face, taking in the dark brows and lashes at odds with his blond mop, and slipped her hands under her buttocks. Leaping into his arms for a third time seemed unreasonable. The sort of wanton behavior that Lady Astley would be gossiping about at this very instant, somewhere in London. Over a cup of tea with other matrons of theton, perhaps.
A snake coiled and uncoiled in her belly at the thought of facing the world. She had never been considered scandalous until now. Perhaps eccentric by high society standards, because she had apprenticed with her father, but thetonwas not aware of her routines in Stirling.
“… we could try the blackmail letters again, and perhaps some runners can watch the locations you specify, but I think we should focus on Lord Stirling’s home.”
He straightened up, his expression intrigued. “The killer sent his man to find out where I lived and then kill me once they could identify me from my address.”
She nodded. “Why wait until you reached home, unless it was to learn where you reside?”
Julius blanched, pale beneath his tanned skin as he seemed to consider the hazards of his incomplete planning. “What I did was so reckless! What if my father had been at home? He may have become a target. He could still become a target when he returns home, if the killer believes he is involved in my scheme.”
Audrey did not answer. It had, indeed, been a foolish move. His idea had been a stroke of brilliance, but the execution had demonstrated a lack of thoughtful prediction. If Julius had informed his friends of his intentions, they might have been able to hodgepodge a plan that would have been less risky and more effective.
“I must resolve this muddle!” he announced, waving his hands about. Julius was attired in plain buckskins, and a rather conservative green coat from his wardrobe. It was a far cry from the foppish attire he favored, but Audrey had been appreciating the sight of his lean, but muscular thighs encased in pale leather. The colorful garments he wore distracted from his unique features and athletic form, in her opinion.
She turned her thoughts back to the conversation at hand. It was painful to suggest that they end their mutual venture, but she could not be so self-absorbed as to withhold the inspiration that had struck her while she stood watch for the meeting downstairs.
“Precisely. If you return home, the killer’s man might show up to silence you. If you attempt the blackmail again, he should appear. We could focus our attention on Lord Stirling’s home, but with the proper preparations.”
Julius sprang to his feet, pacing the alley formed by the two lines of cots. For a man of his height, he was light on his feet, barely making a sound on the wooden flooring, shoed in hisHessians. “I shall have to post men inside the house to protect the household.”
Audrey’s smile was tight, pleased that Julius was thinking through the plan to any unintended repercussions. She was of the opinion that the young lord was something of a genius, but he needed to employ a little more discipline to his schemes. When he did so, he would achieve his goals on a much larger scale. He needed to mature his cunning intelligence to discover his full potential.
“And placed along the street, including here in your aunt’s home,” she suggested.
Dejection twisted in her gut. She would not be present to see Julius come into his own. Nay, she would be living in Stirling, unable to return to London because of her damaged reputation. They were days, maybe hours from parting, and Audrey was not yet ready to say goodbye.
“I shall discuss it in the morning with Ridley and Abbott. They are returning after dawn.”
“Is that wise?”
“I told them to walk up separately a good fifteen minutes apart so they do not arrive together as they did today.”
There it was, confirmation that Julius was thinking his plans through to the end. He would be a magnificent lord for Stirling when the day came for him to fulfill the role.
She supposed she should be gladdened she had contributed to that distant future, but she could not shake off the dismal sensation that she could not share the journey. Her own path was yet to be determined now that she had scandal dogging her heels.
CHAPTER 11
“I am bound to add that the excess in too little has ever proved in me more dangerous than the excess in too much; the last may cause indigestion, but the first causes death.”
Giacomo Casanova
SEPTEMBER 1, 1821
“Absolutely not! It will not work, and if it does, you could be slain!”
Abbott’s outrage was plain. He had been the last to arrive, dressed as a footman rather than a groom, with a great overcoat, buckled shoes, and a powdered wig to conceal his identity. A footman to which household, Julius wondered, not recognizing the livery.
“It might work,” cajoled Julius.
Brendan shook his head, clearly of the same mind as Abbott. “We do not know that, and you are a valued friend.”
