Very early the next morning, Julia put on her pelisse and her largest bonnet and walked to the park. It was a damp, foggy morning, so she encountered very few people, which was good, since walking alone in London was not a proper thing for a young lady.
She went straight to the oak tree and put her hand inside the knothole. Under the rock was a piece of paper. Julia drew it out and continued walking, hiding the paper in her palm. When she had walked several more feet, she turned and faced the trees. Julia quickly unfolded the note and read silently:
Have your friend come with her belongings to the Children’s Aid Mission at noon on Monday. All is well and will be well.
Julia quickly stuffed the note into her reticule, which was hanging from her wrist, and made her way toward home, her heart soaring inside her chest. Now she just had to get word to Sarah.
As soon as Julia entered the front door, Phoebe exclaimed, “There you are! I was wondering if you’d gone for a walk.”
“I’m surprised to see you up so early.”
“I couldn’t sleep. You haven’t gone for a long walk, have you?” Phoebe glanced down at Julia’s shoes and then reached out and touched Julia’s cheek. “You look a bit flushed.”
“No, I did not go far. Would you like to walk with me? We can take a turn around the square.”
Phoebe nodded. Julia waited while Phoebe put on her gloves, bonnet, and a light spencer to guard against the morning chill. With their parasols in hand, they set out. Julia vowed to write a letter to Sarah as soon as she got home and post it that very day to make sure Sarah received the information in time.
Julia peeked down at her reticule where she had placed Mr. Langdon’s note, which might as well be a sleeping snake. As soon as possible, she would have to burn it. If Phoebe or Mrs. Wilhern ever found out Nicholas Langdon had written her a note . . . it didn’t bear thinking of. But then, how would they know he had written the note? He had not signed it. Still, if someone recognized his handwriting or somehow guessed it, she would never survive the wrath of the Wilherns.
The next day was Sunday, and as Julia was changing after the morning church service, a knock came at her door. Molly quickly finished buttoning the back of Julia’s dress and hurried to open the door.
Mr. Wilhern stood in the doorway. “Molly. Let Miss Grey know I wish to see her in my study as soon as she is able to come down.”
Julia stayed in the back of the room. He glanced at her quickly before turning and walking away.
Her heart thumped inside her. What could her uncle want? Had he discovered, somehow, that she had rifled through his desk, copied the coded message, and given it to Nicholas Langdon?
“Shall I finish your hair, Miss Grey?” Molly asked.
“I’ll just pin it.” But Julia’s hand shook as she lifted a pin.
“Let me.” Molly sat her down and quickly finished pinning her hair.
“Thank you, Molly.”
There was nothing left to do but go downstairs and see what her uncle wanted with her.
Her shoulders and neck ached with tension as she approached her uncle’s study. She could not go on forever before being caught, so she needed to find out something definitive, something that would help the War Office capture Uncle Wilhern and everyone else working with him, so as to thwart their evil plans.
She entered her uncle’s study, and he stood up immediately from his desk.
“Come here, child.”
His brows were lowered, but he did not look especially angry. He fixed her with a penetrating stare. “Julia, you are like a daughter to me. I wish to always keep you near, and I know Mrs. Wilhern and Phoebe feel the same. And here we have a very eligible young man who wishes to marry you. He has even agreed to drink less just to please you. Surely you noticed the difference when he was here two nights ago.”
“Yes, Uncle. I suppose he has also come into the fortune you mentioned.”
“Very soon he will.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “It is wise of you to think of such things, my dear, as you have no fortune of your own.” He paused a moment and then continued, “Does this mean you have decided to accept Mr. Edgerton?”
Julia swallowed. If she said no, her uncle would be furious and would possibly start making plans to send her off to work as a governess, washing his hands of her. If she said yes, it would be a lie, but it might buy her more time.
“I am still uncertain.”
“What are you uncertain of?” His face began to turn red. “Do you think anyone else wishes to ask for your hand? Do you have prospects I know nothing of?”
“No, of course not. There is only Mr. Edgerton. I believe if he continues to behave the gentleman, as he did at dinner two nights ago, I shall . . . I shall accept him.” Her breathlessness betrayed her nervousness at having to tell the lie.
“He is coming to speak with me in a few minutes. Would you like to sit with him for a bit, to see the fruit of his intentions and his efforts to make his behavior more pleasing?”
Nothing would be more distasteful. “If you wish it, Uncle, of course I shall.”
Mr. Wilhern looked genuinely pleased. “After we finish our meeting, I shall take him to see you in . . . ?”
“The front drawing room.”