Wraxall gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think any of us feel much like heroes, my lady. Come inside before we’re blown away.”
But before they could close the door, another figure fought the wind to start toward the orphanage. Wraxall stepped in front of her, probably to protect her, but there was no need. She recognized the livery the man wore immediately as that of the Earl St. Maur. Julia put a hand on Wraxall’s arm, then just as quickly removed it. She’d felt the hard solidity of his muscle beneath her hand.
“It’s one of my father’s footmen,” she told him, avoiding looking into Wraxall’s face.
“My lady!” the footman called over the wind. “I have a message from your father.”
She held out a hand to take the folded paper. “Won’t you come in and have some tea in the kitchen?”
The footman shook his head. “I had better get back.”
“Very well.” When he turned to leave directly, she called, “You do not need a reply?”
“No, my lady. The earl said none was required.”
Julia stepped inside, and Wraxall closed the door and pushed the bolt home. Annoyingly, he stood and waited for her to open the letter. She gave him a glare, but it didn’t seem to deter him. She might have scolded him if she hadn’t been distracted by the contents inside the envelope. The only item inside was an invitation to Viscount Sterling’s ball that evening. Scrawled across the invitation, in her father’s spiky hand, were the words Your attendance is required.
“Oh no,” she muttered.
“Oh yes,” Wraxall answered, reading over her shoulder. “You will attend if I have to escort you myself.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And if I attend this ball, who will take care of the children?”
Wraxall opened his mouth, paused, then smiled. “I have just the person in mind.”
“Who?”
“Leave that to me. You will attend that ball.”
“And what about the situation with Mr. Goring?”
“He can float away in the deluge for all I care. You and I will go.”
“Go where?” Michael asked. Julia turned to see about half of the boys crowding into the entryway.
Julia folded her hands and smoothed her expression. “Go upstairs to put you boys down for a nap.”
“Not me!” Michael said, shaking his head violently.
“Not I,” Julia corrected.
“I won’t make you take one, if you don’t make me, my lady.”
Julia laughed. “You don’t need a nap, Michael, but Charlie, Chester, Jimmy, and James do.”
“I’m not tired, my lady!” James said.
“Me either,” Charlie said, his eyelids drooping.
“Nevertheless, a little rest is just the thing.” She bundled the four boys together and pushed them toward the stairs.
“Lady Juliana,” Wraxall said from behind her. “You are taking a third of my workforce.”
“Well, perhaps now is a good time for all of you to rest. These are boys, sir, not soldiers. They should have some time for recreation.”
She glanced down from the steps and saw him frowning at her. Before he could argue, the first clap of thunder sounded and a steady rain drummed on the roof. It was the sort of day she’d always loved when she’d lived in Mayfair. It was less comforting here. “Robbie, you and Billy get the buckets. Walter, will you and Michael get the pots and pans? Ralph, go and cover Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s enclosure. You know the rain makes them nervous. Best they feel snug and secure so we don’t have to spend the rest of the afternoon searching for them.”
There was a chorus of “Yes, my lady,” and then she shuttled the little boys upstairs again. Wraxall was right behind her.
“What the devil is this?” he asked.
“Sir, watch your language around the children.”
The little boys giggled as she herded them into their room and pulled the curtains closed. The room was already dark, but this made it feel cozier. “Off with your shoes, boys. Then climb under the covers.”
Wraxall stood in the doorway. “What the deuce is this?”
“Nap time,” she answered.
“No, I meant with the buckets and pots and pans.”
“That’s to catch the water,” Jimmy told him, hopping into bed. “Don’t forget our bucket, my lady.”
“I won’t.” She tugged it from the corner and placed it between Chester and James’s beds, where water had already begun to leak from the roof.
“Do you mean to tell me the roof leaks?” Wraxall asked.
“I hadn’t intended to tell you at all, but I suppose it’s quite apparent now. We have plenty of buckets to deal with the leaks.”
“If we use the pots and pans too,” James said. “But that doesn’t work so well when it’s dinnertime.”
“Shh.” Julia placed a kiss on James’s forehead then went to Jimmy and Charlie. Chester was taking his time. “Chester, nap time.”
“I’m not tired.” He yawned. “That wasn’t a yawn. I was stretching my mouth.”
“You don’t have to sleep,” Julia told him, pulling back the blanket on his bed. “Just rest. I will come and get you up in an hour.”
“Major doesn’t need to rest.”
Julia glanced at Wraxall. Now was the time for him to either help her cause or hurt it. If he hurt it, she would be plagued by tired, cranky boys all evening.
“Actually,” Wraxall said, “I think Lady Juliana makes a good suggestion. We should all rest, and when you wake, we’ll be refreshed and ready to begin anew.”
“So you won’t work on the steps without us?” Chester asked.
Clearly Wraxall hadn’t anticipated having to make that sort of promise. Julia raised her brows. He sighed. “No. We will wait until nap time is through. You’ll miss nothing.”
“Promise?” Charlie asked sleepily.
“I do.”
“My parents promised to come back for me,” Jimmy said. “But they still haven’t.”
Julia sighed. Her heart broke for Jimmy, who couldn’t possibly understand that his parents either could not come for him or did not have the money to support him if they did. These poor children had learned not to trust adults. She’d been steadily earning their trust, but they hadn’t chosen to test her now. They’d chosen Mr. Wraxall.
She looked at the major, not certain whether to interrupt or let him answer. For a long moment he stood uncertainly in the doorway, then he strode into the room and went to Jimmy’s bed, sitting on the side. “When I make a promise, I keep it. No work will be done on the house while you rest. I’m certain your parents will keep their promise too. They are in a difficult situation. Give them time, and they will come for you.”
He brushed the boy’s dark hair back from his forehead. “Sleep now.” He looked at the other three boys. “That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison, though Charlie’s reply was garbled as his thumb was already in his mouth.
Julia stepped outside and closed the door when Wraxall followed her. “Thank you,” she said. “I know you meant what you said, and it’s so important to the children that they have adults in their life they can count on.”
He had moved away from the room and closer to her bedchamber. Though the little ones could likely not hear, she had lowered her voice as she followed him.
“I agree. That’s why I’m surprised you haven’t done more to show them they can count on you.”
Julia glared at him. “What precisely do you mean by that, sir?”
“I mean that you have them living in a place where they aren’t safe. What will you tell them when someone breaks in and hurts one of them or you?”
“I don’t have to worry about that anymore. You have fixed the locks.”
His light eyes bored into her. “Then what will you tell them when the roof collapses on their heads?”
“I’ve asked the board of directors for more funds and instructed Mr. Goring to begin work on it.”
“The same Mr. Goring who sits at Slag’s alehouse all day?”
Oh yes. She’d forgotten she would have to let the servant go. “I’ll hire another manservant then.”