Julia Justiss (9 page)

B
ELLE PAUSED
on the threshold, her smile fading as her eyes took in and then skittered away from the expression on
Ludlowe’s face. Despite the passage of years that should have inured her to it, she still recoiled inwardly at a man’s avid appraisal with as much ferocity as she had the first time Bellingham had paraded her in public.

Some, like Ansley, dazzled by the beauty nature had bestowed on her, believed her the repository of all virtue, a veritable angel come to earth—in spite of obvious evidence to the contrary. Some, like the captain’s friend watching her, mixed a healthy dose of lust with the awe.

And then there were the worst, the Lord Ruperts. Privileged by birth or wealth, accustomed to having the world rearrange itself to suit them, they felt entitled to take whatever they wanted, regardless of the wishes or feelings of those they considered lesser beings.

Would that it had been the baron at the point of her sword! She’d not have regretted thrusting home the blade.

Suppressing a sigh, she forced herself to pick up the thread of the conversation, which currently consisted of some stilted compliments by Ludlowe on her hospitality.

“Kind of you, Mr. Ludlowe,” she interrupted, “but I did only what any person of sensibility would have done. I’m just happy to learn from Dr. Thompson that he considers Captain Carrington well on his way to recovery.”

“How could he not be, with such an angel of mercy attending him?” Ludlowe said, his eyes still fixed on her with uncomfortable fervency.

“I came to congratulate you on the doctor’s encouraging opinion, Captain, but I don’t wish to intrude.” Belle turned, ready to make good her escape.

A rapid patter of footsteps distracted her from Ludlowe’s gallant reply. A moment later, Jem burst into the room.

Panting, a panicked look on his face and his hair even wilder than usual, he cried, “Miss Belle, you gotta come now. Someone done tried to carry off Jane!”

B
EGGING THE GENTLEMEN
to excuse her, Belle hurried Jem down the stairs. “Is Jane all right? What happened?”

“Dunno, Miss Belle. I were in the kitchen when we heared shouting and John Coachman come running, saying some villain had tried to nab Jane and for me to fetch you.”

Watson met them in the hallway and bid them follow him to the bookroom. There Belle found Mae, a groom and the housekeeper clustered around Jane, who was seated on the small sofa, weeping, her gown muddy and torn, a cloth held to a cut over one eye.

Outrage swelled in Belle’s breast at the audacity of someone invading her home and attacking one of her own. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she sat beside Jane.

When the girl saw her, she burst into a fresh round of weeping. “My…lady…so…sorry,” was all Belle could make out.

“Jane, you are safe now,” Belle soothed. “Calm yourself and take a bit of this wine.” Accepting a glass from Mae, Belle urged the girl to drink.

Making a visible effort to swallow her sobs, Jane consented to take a sip. By the time Belle had coaxed her into
consuming half the glass, she was breathing normally, though tears still sheened her eyes.

“I be right sorry, Lady Belle,” she said.

“Whatever for? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have stayed here! But you was so kind, and I just didn’t want to go back. Now I brung this trouble on you—”

“Nonsense! If there is trouble, it will fall upon the man who tried to kidnap you. Was it Waldo?”

Jane shuddered. “Yes, ma’am. I been cooped up in the house nigh on a week, no one knowing what to do with me while you was occupied nursing the injured gentleman. I thought it wouldn’t do no harm to take a turn about the garden. But…but he done snuck in somehow and took me by surprise. He brung a pistol and he told me he’d blow my head off iff’n I didn’t come quiet. Then, when he put the popper down to drag me into the carriage, I seen my chance. Bit his hand and screeched to wake the dead. Jacobs here heard and come to help me, kind soul that he be.”

“Bravo!” Belle said. “How brave of you both!”

“But ma’am, he said afore his coach drove off that he wouldn’t never let me leave Mrs. Jarvis,” Jane continued, her dark eyes stark. “That when he caught me good ’n proper, he’d make me pay, me and all them what helped me.”

“’Tis rather Waldo who will pay,” Belle retorted. “The man trespassed on my property and assaulted a member of my household, and so I shall inform the constable.”

Jane paled. “No, ma’am, you mustn’t! Waldo said if you sent the law after him, he had friends in Seven Dials who’d make you wish you was never born.”

Rage eddied through Belle again and she thought longingly of her slim, sharp fencing sword. “That ignorant bully dares to threaten me?”

“I couldn’t bear knowing I’d caused you hurt, after you been so good to me.” Jane drained the wine and set the glass down. “Better I go back to Mrs. Jarvis.”

“You will do nothing of the sort!” Belle retorted.

As if her remaining reserves of strength and courage were finally exhausted, Jane slumped back against the sofa cushions. “I dunno know what to do,” she whispered.

“For now, you shall go rest—with a stout footman to guard the door. Madame Duchamps, help Jane upstairs and brew her a tisane, please.”

“Come,
ma petite
. Madame will plaster the cut so it leaves no scar on that pretty
visage
, eh?” the housekeeper said as she assisted Jane to her feet and led her away.

After thanking the groom for his aid and promising him a bonus for his bravery, Belle paced to the window, frowning. Along with her note informing Mrs. Jarvis that Jane would not be returning, she’d sent a handsome sum, though she’d not told Jane about it. Belle was angry but not surprised the bawd hadn’t accepted the peace offering. Mrs. Jarvis obviously did not intend to relinquish Jane willingly.

Nor did the loathsome Waldo.

She turned to find Mae and Watson watching her.

“Daisie, who run the house I was with before Darlington set me up, told us that Mrs. Jarvis was a bad woman,” Mae said. “Rules her girls with an iron fist—don’t never let them out of her house—and that Waldo is a truly fear
some bloke. All the girls roundabout were afraid of him. They won’t neither of them give up.”

“Watson, what do you know of them?” Belle asked.

“The same about Mrs. Jarvis. As for Waldo, he’s the worst sort of bragging bully boy, who don’t pick on none but them what’s smaller and weaker.” Watson gave a derisive sniff. “He made sure never to tangle with me.”

Mae unfurled a small ivory fan and began plying it vigorously. “All this botheration is giving me palpitations. Could we not just send the girl back?”

The look Belle sent her drove the color even higher into her rouged cheeks. “Didn’t think so,” Mae muttered. “Send her away, then. There’s going to be trouble with that Jarvis woman if we keep one of her girls.”

“I shall turn the matter over to the magistrate,” Belle countered. “This is England, after all! The girl can’t be held against her will.”

To Belle’s surprise, Watson shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that, ma’am. If Waldo’d tried to snabble some gentrymort, that would be different, but what do the law care about the likes of a dab like Jane? And ’tis true enough he’s got friends in bad places, men who’d grab you as you walked in the Park and slit your throat in some back alley for no more than a glass of blue ruin.”

“S-slit your throat?” Mae echoed, her rouged cheeks paling. “I—I feel a swoon coming on,” she whispered.

While Watson soothed Mae with a glass of wine, Belle dropped back into a chair. ’Twas disconcerting to learn that her retainers, having lived all their lives well below the salt, had no great opinion of the usefulness of English law in
protecting Jane—or Belle. Though she was still outraged that a ruffian like Waldo thought he could invade her home with impunity, Watson’s description of how easily she herself might be dispatched made her pause.

She might be good with her blade, but men such as that would not observe the gentleman’s rules governing combat.

Still, she would at least consult Egremont before she gave up entirely on the idea of a legal solution. But what to do with Jane in the interim? “Help from the law or not, Jane must be protected,” Belle said after a moment.

“Send her away,” Mae urged again. “It be too easy for some whoreson like Waldo to snatch her—or any of us here.”

“Where, Mae? Even if her family would take her back, which I doubt, Mrs. Jarvis knows where she comes from and could send Waldo after her. Nor, inexperienced and defenseless as she is, could we secretly remove her from London and leave her all alone in some other town.”

“She’d end up in a house as bad or worse as the one she sprung from,” Watson agreed.

“We shall have to think of something else.” Belle rose to pace the room, cuddling her brain for alternatives.

In the end, there seemed only one acceptable solution. “I have ever intended to leave for my country house before the Season starts. I shall just advance those plans.”

“Leave London?” Mae gasped. “I know you told me you meant to, but I thought ’twas just the shock of Lord B’s passing. You truly mean to…to
live
in the country?”

At Mae’s tone, one would think Belle had proposed removing to some savage tropic island and dressing in skins. Suppressing a smile, she said, “I know how much you
love London. But I have…pressing reasons to be away this Season. I know ’tis selfish of me to ask you to accompany me, but with Jane’s situation, it seems the best plan. I doubt Waldo could buy himself accomplices willing to venture beyond the city, and with Watson guarding us, he won’t dare pursue us alone.”

“But what of the captain?” Belle asked. “You can’t mean to just put him out in the street.”

The captain. In the agitation of the moment, Belle had completely forgotten the uninvited guest in her front bedchamber. “I shall have to consider what to do about him. But one way or another, we shall leave London soon. Watson, have the staff begin making preparations.”

“As ye wish, Lady Belle.” With a bow, Watson left.

Belle turned to her companion, who was still looking agitated. “Mae, my dear friend,” she said, taking the woman’s hand, “if you simply can’t bear the thought of exile to the country, take the next few days to look for another friend with whom to stay in London.”

With a sniff, Mae withdrew her hand. “Why you need to go haring off, I can’t imagine, but I see that’s none of my affair. We must protect Jane, I suppose. Now I believe I’ll lie down for a spell.”

Belle watched her companion exit the room, that lady’s back ramrod straight and her carriage eloquent of disgruntlement. Was Mae jealous of Jane’s presence, or was she merely hurt that Belle had not confided the reasons which compelled her to quit London this Season?

Whatever had upset her, Belle hoped her companion would soon recover her usual good humor. Sighing, she
bent her thoughts to her next problem—Captain Jack Carrington.

Like his friend Lord Darnley, the captain didn’t fit into any of three categories into which she normally divided men. His demeanor toward her wasn’t adoring, nor did she sense admiration mixed with lust or naked lust alone. Though she certainly felt
some
strong force spark between them.

Perhaps that was why she seemed always more aware of him than she was of admirers like Ansley who shadowed her footsteps—and more disturbed by him than by Lord Rupert. Something about the man’s mere presence seemed able to pierce the protective barrier of disinterest she had erected around her heart and mind, forcing her to acknowledge him, compelling a reaction.

She didn’t understand how she could be conscious of him the instant he entered a room. Why she was so nervous and on edge when he was near—even immobilized in a sickbed.

Whatever the reason, he cut up her peace and she didn’t like it.

And yet, she had no instinctive fear of him, as she did of Rupert. Indeed, she had the oddest sense that he would never harm her. An absurd feeling, given how effectively he rattled her calm, and ludicrous to put any faith in, given her experience with men.

Though getting him out of her house and out of her life held strong appeal, she felt responsible for assuring his recovery. With the Carrington estate, Darnley had told her, located several hard days’ journey north, no amount of
wishful thinking could delude her into believing the captain was yet up to a journey of that magnitude.

However, since he was no longer so dangerously ill as to require round-the-clock attention, perhaps she could see him returned to his rooms at Albany. With his friends to check on him and a nurse engaged to wait upon him, he could safely remain there until he was fit enough to make the long trip home. At his next visit, she’d ask the doctor whether such an arrangement would be suitable.

After all, the captain had friends who could oversee his recovery—whereas Jane was alone in the world. If the decision came down to which one needed her assistance most, the answer was clear.

For Jane’s sake, Belle saw no alternative to leaving the metropolis—thereby sending the unsettling Captain Jack Carrington out of her house, her thoughts and her life.

Her decision made, Belle headed for the door. She’d go immediately to inform the captain of the prospective change in his circumstances.

E
NTERING UPON HER KNOCK
, Belle halted at the doorway. Expecting to deliver her news to the captain alone, she’d forgotten that Mr. Ludlowe had been visiting when Jem bore her off to check on Jane.

But perhaps it would be well to inform Ludlowe and solicit his assistance from the outset. Telling herself again that both men were sure to quickly acquiesce with her reasonable proposal, Belle continued into the room.

“I hope nothing serious is amiss,” the captain said.

“Indeed, ma’am. Can I assist?” Ludlowe echoed.

“A small matter which has been dealt with, thank you, gentlemen. But it does…somewhat alter my immediate plans. I’m afraid I must leave London as soon as the arrangements can be made. I’m sorry I shall not be in town long enough to oversee your complete return to health, Captain, but if the physician believes it will not adversely affect your recovery, I propose to have you moved back to Albany sometime in the next few days.”

“Moved!” Ludlowe repeated. “So soon? Surely Captain Carrington isn’t stout enough yet to risk moving him! Nor could he possibly manage his own care.”

“Indeed not,” Belle agreed. “I mean to engage whichever competent nurses Dr. Thompson recommends until the captain has recovered sufficiently to journey home. Mr. Ludlowe, I would ask that you and Lord Darnley assist by insuring the nurses are properly attentive.”

“I’m afraid Edmund’s schedule doesn’t allow for daily checks on a regular basis. And I fear I haven’t the expertise to judge a nurse’s care. Surely you don’t mean to leave the captain in his enfeebled state—”

“Blast, Aubrey, I’m not completely helpless!” the captain interjected.

“—all alone for hours with no recourse, should the nurse turn out to be incompetent!” Ludlowe finished.