She didn’t want to wound her father, but she also did not want him to hold out hope she would return to her life before. She did not expect him to come after her. Her father spent all his time at his club or in the Lords. Anything else, he delegated to others. If he could have delegated his need to use the chamber pot to a lackey, the Earl of St. Maur would have done so. Thus, it did not surprise her that he had sent someone to fetch her home. The fact that it was a former soldier was a bit unnerving. Perhaps her father was more serious about her returning home than he had been in the past.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the scuffling of feet in the corridor, and a moment later, Robbie opened the door to admit Michael and George carrying one large pot and Angus and Sean carrying a smaller one to the sideboard. Ralph entered next with a basket, followed by Walter and Billy, who carried teapots. The younger boys carried serving utensils and the whole lot of them were talking all at once in an excited cacophony.
“We’re having porridge, my lady,” Jimmy told her.
“And toast,” James added.
“And Major says we’re to eat like the nobs do,” Robbie added. Then he smacked Angus on the back of the head. “Get your fingers out of the porridge. We have to pray and then Lady Juliana eats first.”
Angus sent up a loud protest, but it was interrupted—as was the rest of the commotion—by the arrival of Mr. Wraxall. He didn’t say a word or do anything more than step into the room, and the boys fell silent. Robbie gazed at him with something like adoration while Walter’s lip curled in a sneer. Julia rather thought her own gaze must have mirrored Robbie’s. Wraxall looked devastatingly handsome this morning. In a coat, breeches, waistcoat, and cravat, he made quite the contrast to the boys in their untucked shirts and frayed trousers. Charlie had said Wraxall had made the boys wash, and Julia could also tell some of them had brushed their hair. Wraxall had also tended to his own toilette. His face was freshly shaven and his dark hair brushed back. His blue eyes regarded her from under thick lashes.
He gave her a slight bow. “My lady.”
Her heart might have stopped if the boys hadn’t distracted her by copying him and bowing themselves—all save Walter and Billy. She blinked in surprise at the greeting. Then she remembered herself and rose. “Good morning, Mr. Wraxall and…gentlemen.” She had been about to call them boys, but she knew it would please them more if she called them gentlemen, especially as they were acting so gentlemanly. “Master Charlie tells me you have prepared a feast to break our fast.”
“It’s just porridge and toast, my lady,” James said, ever truthful.
Julia smiled. “Yes. A feast. Shall we say grace and then eat?”
“Aye!” George said. “I’m fair starving.”
Julia was thankful for the distraction of the boys. She had something to look at besides the imposing form of Mr. Wraxall. As she folded her hands, she spared him another look. He had a wry smile on his face. “Mr. Wraxall, would you like to do the honors, or shall I?”
He inclined his head toward her. “I wouldn’t dream of taking your place, my lady.”
She nodded, then lowered her head and closed her eyes. Usually, she kept one eye open and trained on Walter or Ralph, but today, she didn’t worry. She thanked God for the meal and the service of the young gentlemen, and when she finished, the young boys were beaming. Then at a nod from Wraxall, the boys took their seats and Charlie escorted her to the sideboard. As the plates were already on the table, she carried hers with her. When they reached the sideboard, Wraxall was there.
“What do I say again?” Charlie asked him.
“Ask if you can be of any assistance.”
“Can I be of any assistance?”
“No, thank you, Charlie. You may sit down.” She opened the towel keeping the toast warm and used tongs to place one on her plate. It smelled fresh and yeasty, and she gave Wraxall an approving smile. “I must say I’m impressed, Mr. Wraxall. This looks quite delicious.” She lifted the lid of the larger pot of porridge and spooned some into her bowl. Porridge was one of her least favorite foods, but she would eat every last bite because her boys had made it.
“The boys are good at following orders,” he said, taking her plate and handing it to Walter. “Take this to Lady Juliana’s seat.”
Walter took it and mumbled something.
“What was that, Walter?”
“Yes, sir,” he said more loudly. Clearly Wraxall understood, as she had quite early on, that keeping Walter busy meant keeping him out of mischief.
“You are good at giving orders,” she said, adding a meager helping of sugar to her tea. It was a luxury and she used it sparingly.
“I’ve had practice.”
“And your skills have proved quite useful. Do you think you will be able to finish securing the orphanage by the end of the day? I’m certain that applicants for the position of cook will arrive tomorrow, and I can handle breakfast for one morning. We can’t expect you to stay another night.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll stay as long as necessary.”
It was a generous offer, and she wanted to be appreciative, but every time she looked at him, she felt an unwanted tug of attraction. And every moment she was with him was one more chance for him to show his true nature.
You think I’m nice?
She had to remember he was a man. Everything he did was for his own selfish reasons. She could not fathom what those might be, but she did not trust him.
Seven
Neil needed a drink. He hadn’t had so much as a sip of wine since he’d arrived at the orphanage. Without drink to smooth the edges, he felt his emotions too keenly. Since coming back from the war, Neil had learned that feeling anything was dangerous. He didn’t want to relive the anguish he’d felt when his brother had died or when Draven’s men had been killed. He’d felt it all too powerfully, and he’d been powerless to do anything about it.
Now, the rawness of the pain and loss he’d suffered seeped in again. And with those emotions came others. Neil couldn’t have said why, but when he’d heard Lady Juliana’s voice on the other side of the kitchen door, in reply to Charlie, his chest had tightened and his heartbeat quickened. He’d been eager to see her, anticipated the look on her face when she saw the meal he’d helped the boys prepare.
And then he’d seen her—her body wrapped in the long, flowing lines of the dress and her hair perched delicately on her head, making the graceful nape of her neck appear porcelain against the blue of the dress. He’d been momentarily stunned by how much he wanted her approval of the breakfast. And then when she’d given it, he wished all the boys would disappear so he could take her in his arms and…
What would he have done? Kiss her? To what end? She was an unmarried lady, not a widow or an actress. He could be attracted to her, but he couldn’t act on it. And that was for the best, because while he was here, he had to maintain strict control. He had his orders. Today he would make sure the building was secure for the boys’ safety. She’d taken steps to hire a new cook and a new teacher. Once those servants were here to take care of the orphanage, she’d have to admit she was not needed here.
When all the boys had finished ladling porridge into their bowls and each taken two rolls from the basket, he filled his own bowl and took a seat at the head of the older boys’ table. He couldn’t think for all the noise the lads made, and he sent a look down the table that had the effect of stopping the conversations in midstream. The little boys quieted, and Neil looked at Lady Juliana, whose eyes were wide at the sudden silence.
“My lady,” he said, “have you seen Mr. Goring this morning?”
She sipped her tea and replied, “I have, Mr. Wraxall. He stepped out for a moment to fetch his own breakfast.”
“But why?” Robbie interrupted. “We made enough for him.”
Neil gave the lad a long look, and Robbie bowed his head. “Sorry, Major. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s fine, Robbie,” Lady Juliana said.
Neil frowned again. The lad would never learn discipline if she didn’t correct him.