The floor came rushing up, but she caught herself with her hands just before her knees hit the polished wood floor. She sprang upright.
She hurried to her uncle’s desk, her knees cramped and her ankles burning. She grasped the paper and folded it smaller. Having no reticule or even a pocket in her skirt, she stuffed it into her bodice and down the left side and then rushed out of the room to meet her uncle and Mr. Edgerton in the drawing room.
She slowed her pace. How must she look? Was her hair out of place after crouching in the wardrobe? No time to repair it. She must try to slow her breathing. She touched her hot cheek with the back of her hand, keenly aware of the paper stuffed down her bodice.
Her uncle was just walking out of the drawing room when she arrived.
“Julia, there you are. I thought you would be waiting for us.”
“Forgive me, I had to . . . retrieve something.”
“Never mind. Mr. Edgerton is here to see you.”
Julia forced a smile, but it trembled on her lips. She ducked her head demurely as Mr. Edgerton reached for her hand. Just as he kissed her gloved hand, she heard the slight rustle of the paper in her bodice.
“How nice to see you, Mr. Edgerton,” she said quickly. “I trust you are well today.”
“Yes, I am very well.” He did smile, but almost as an afterthought, no doubt remembering her uncle’s words to him. “And you, Miss Grey? Are you well?” He looked at her curiously, his forehead suddenly wrinkling as he studied her.
“Oh yes, of course, I am very well. I have had my morning walk already and feel very well. But you look as though you don’t believe me.”
“Forgive me, Miss Grey. Of course I believe you. You only look a bit . . . flushed.”
“Oh no, I am well, I assure you. I perhaps got a bit heated as I was rushing back to the drawing room just now. A lady always prefers a bit of color in her cheeks to being too pale, don’t you think?” She was coming across as almost giddy and enthusiastic—too enthusiastic.
“Indeed.” Mr. Edgerton’s smile was quite genuine now. “You look very beautiful, Miss Grey, with a bit of color in your cheeks. In fact, I don’t believe I have ever seen you looking so well.”
Or paying so much attention to you either. But it seemed necessary to put on this show. She did not want them suspicious that she had taken the paper. But what would her uncle do when he discovered it missing? It was a terrifying thought. Perhaps she could read it quickly and deliver it back to his desk before he realized it was missing. But she had folded it two more times. He would surely notice that.
Mr. Edgerton was saying something about her playing and singing. “. . . sounded just like an angel. My mother’s very words.”
“Oh, how very kind,” Julia said, again looking down, trying to appear modest. “But you mustn’t flatter me. Phoebe does enough of that, but she is the dearest girl in the world and I could never do without her.” It was the kind of thing ladies often said to make themselves appear kind and flirtatious at the same time, but it was simply the first thing that came into Julia’s distracted mind. “I do love my cousin Phoebe. We are quite devoted to one another.”
“Yes, of course. And I . . . I do not want you to think that I . . . well, that I would not be accommodating to the two of you living near each other.”
The awkward look on his face was actually the most earnest one she had seen, and it stirred a strange mixture inside her, of pity, guilt, and horror—pity that he obviously wanted to marry her so much, which could never happen. Guilt that she was flirting with him while hoping to turn him in to the authorities for treason to the Crown. And horror at the thought of putting herself in this man’s power, of marrying a man who seemed to have no qualms about betraying his own country.
Julia did not reply, pretending to be too abashed.
Her uncle jumped in with some comments about the weather and the roads, and eventually Julia nearly forgot the paper in her bodice, though it was sticking her in the side.
The visit seemed to be winding down. Mr. Edgerton stood. “May I call for you tomorrow? I should like to take you riding in my new curricle.”
Julia hesitated. It was the last thing in the world she would want to do, but at the moment, she could hardly think past getting this note read and returned and reported to Mr. Langdon.
“If my uncle does not object, I accept.”
A smile spread over Mr. Edgerton’s face, making him look boyish—a great contrast to the fact that he was betraying king and country for money.
Now that he was leaving, Mr. Edgerton moved slowly, taking Julia’s hand and kissing it. She kept her facial expression steady so as not to cringe.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, no doubt thinking he looked and sounded gallant.
As soon as he and her uncle left the room, Julia moved to the doorway and passed out behind them. They went toward the front door and she crept back toward her uncle’s study.