“I believe you call on them every Tuesday. Is this true, Julia?”
“Yes, Aunt Wilhern.” The poor coachman must have been forced to disclose the truth. What would her uncle do to him? “It isn’t Coleman’s fault, Aunt. I asked him to take us, and he—”
“I won’t tell Mr. Wilhern about any of this if you promise me not to visit there again.”
“But why?”
Mrs. Wilhern frowned at the question. “I do not want a niece of mine, with only that half-addled spinster, Agnes Appleby, or her niece, Felicity Mayson, as a chaperone in that part of town, and neither would Mr. Wilhern.”
“But, Aunt, please. I enjoy my visits with them, and I am perfectly safe, I assure you.” God would take care of her, and her aunt need never know about the incident with the three drunken men Mr. Langdon had maneuvered them around.
“Julia, I am not accustomed to having my word questioned.”
By Phoebe, yes. By me, no. “Forgive me. May I pay one more visit to the Bartholdys to say good-bye?”
“You can say good-bye in a letter.” Her aunt’s tone was firm. She had stopped stroking the pug, and her hand rested on its neck, clutching the skin in a way that made the dog’s eyes open wider.
What would she tell the Bartholdys? How would she explain? And worse, how would she speak to Mr. Wilson at the children’s mission about a place for Sarah, now that her aunt had ordered her never to go there again? Did she dare defy her aunt?
She certainly didn’t want her uncle to know. She shuddered at the thought.
“One more thing before you go. Mr. Langdon and his sister, Leorah, are to dine with us next Thursday. Phoebe has her heart set on marrying Mr. Langdon, and I expect you to do anything in your power to secure your cousin’s happiness.”
“I have no intention of endangering Phoebe’s happiness. Phoebe knows I would do anything for her.”
“Good.” Mrs. Wilhern closed her eyes so long, Julia wondered if she had nodded off. But she opened them again and said, “I give you leave to go.”
Julia retreated to her room. Haven’t I done everything that was expected of me? Haven’t I tried to obey every instruction? She closed her door behind her.
All her careful striving to adhere to society’s rules had built a foundation for her life that was shaky at best. At any moment, it would crumble beneath her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Three days later, Nicholas waited just down the street from the Wilherns’ town house, hoping to see Miss Grey emerge from the house—alone for the short walk to fetch Miss Mayson or Miss Appleby for their morning constitutional—and come his way. He could not wait very long or he would look suspicious. Unfortunately, there were no shops nearby he might duck into and pretend to browse while he secretly watched her house.
He strode to a tree by the street and stood pretending to examine his sleeve. How long could he stand here without being noticed? Finally, he started down the street, passing the Wilherns’ house. He kept his head facing straight ahead but watched for any movement at the house to his left.
He kept walking until he was well past the house. But before it was completely out of his sight, he turned and walked back that way. Just as he was nearly parallel to the Wilherns’ town house again, he was rewarded with a feminine figure opening the door and walking down the three steps to the street. She wore a simple blue bonnet and a blue-and-white spencer. She turned to walk in his direction and stopped short. “Oh. Mr. Langdon.”
He bowed, tipped his hat, and offered her his arm. “May I walk with you?”
“Why, yes, I was just going to call on my friends, Miss Felicity Mayson and Miss Appleby, for our morning walk.”
“Ah yes.” Nicholas didn’t have a lot of time, as Miss Mayson’s home was very near.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Langdon?”
“I was just thinking of something Mr. Edgerton told me yesterday.”
Julia stiffened and her mouth opened in hesitation. “Mr. Edgerton? Was it something to worry you, Mr. Langdon?”
“It was only that he said he had asked your uncle’s permission to marry you, and your uncle had said yes, but that you had not agreed to it.” He waited a moment, but when she did not speak, he said, “I was concerned that you were—forgive me if I am being impertinent—that you were being coerced by your guardian.”
He leaned forward slightly to catch a glimpse of her face underneath the rim of her bonnet. Her face was pale, and she quickly turned away.
“Miss Grey, you may confide in me. I promise you I am very discreet, and I may be able to help you, if you are in need of assistance in the situation.” Though she must wonder how he could possibly help her.
They reached the street corner, and as no one was around, he stepped in front of her and faced her.