“Billy is not dangerous. He just needs someone to love him. He’s been at the orphanage for years and seen adults come and go. His life has been full of unpredictability.”
Wraxall tried his porridge, nodded, and ate another spoonful. “Exactly. Now we give him predictability. If he breaks another boy’s nose, there’s a consequence.”
“Thankfully, Robbie’s nose isn’t broken, just badly bruised.”
“That’s not for lack of trying.”
“Listen, Mr. Wraxall, you were sent here to persuade me to return home. I have told you that this is my home now. I have authority from the board of directors. You have no right to tell me how to raise the children.”
The look he gave her was one she imagined he gave to the enemy before coldly bayoneting him through the heart. He stood slowly. “Listen, my lady—”
Jackson cleared his throat. “I am sorry to interrupt, but now that the boys are at their lessons, I wondered if there was somewhere I could unpack your things, sir, and perhaps ready water and your razor for a shave?”
Wraxall rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I have spare shirts in one of the servants’ rooms. I suppose you could unpack there.”
Jackson stared at him. “You have been sleeping in the servants’ quarters?”
“I haven’t really been sleeping at all, but those are the only unoccupied quarters.”
“I see.”
Julia heard the note of disapproval and did not blame the man. Wraxall did not belong here, but she was in the uncomfortable position of needing him. What made her dependence even worse was that she no longer needed him only to protect them from Slag or to see to the roof repairs; she seemed to need his help with the boys as well.
He was becoming the father the boys so desperately needed, except that Wraxall, like most fathers she’d known, was destined to let the children down.
“I won’t need a shave,” Wraxall told his servant. “I plan to climb onto the roof and assess the damage.”
“The roof, sir?”
“I’ve been on roofs before, and if I’m not mistaken, Jackson, you have been around children before.”
Julia cocked her head. “You do seem to have a way with them, Jackson. I herd them like blind mice, but you managed to move them in an orderly fashion from the dormitories to the dining room and thence to the classroom.” She had no concerns about the boys now that they were ensconced with Mrs. Dunwitty. Her former governess was stern but kind and a gifted teacher. Despite their best efforts to remain ignorant, Harriett and Julia had always managed to learn something under Mrs. Dunwitty’s tutelage.
Jackson’s shoulders seemed to straighten. “I have had some experience with children, my lady. I am the oldest of fourteen.”
“Fourteen?” Wraxall sputtered.
“Your poor mother,” Julia said.
Jackson shook his head, unperturbed. “She is still strong as ever. She bore nineteen children in all. Fourteen of us survived.”
“I never knew this about you, Jackson,” Wraxall said.
“You never asked, sir.”
“How are you with roofs?”
“Somewhat less skilled, sir.”
“Then I’ll go alone.” He looked at her. “If Mr. Goring returns, tell him I want to see him immediately.”
“I will. Are you certain you should go on the roof by yourself?”
“I’m a man of many talents, Lady Juliana.” And with that he strode out of the room. Jackson followed.
Jackson called after him. “Sir, when you have a moment, I do need to speak with you alone.”
“That will have to wait, Jackson,” he said, his voice trailing away.
She wished the room did not feel so empty without him. She wished she didn’t have the urge to stand outside and watch him up on the roof. Mostly, she wished she could send him away and never look at him again, because every moment she spent with him made her long for more.
She had to keep busy. Clearing the dishes, she brought them to the kitchen and spent an hour with Mrs. Koch, making lists of foodstuffs to stock the empty larder. Julia knew she would have to write to the board and ask for funds. They would want to know what had happened to the food she had bought last month, and she would have to explain it had been pilfered. That would certainly not make her look a very good steward. What if the board denied her request? How would she find the funds to feed the children? She couldn’t ask her father for more money, and the majority of her pin money was gone. It also looked as though she’d have to pay for roof repairs. With a sigh, Julia made her way to the parlor to begin her letters. If there was one thing she missed about her life in Mayfair, it was never giving a thought to money.
As soon as she unlocked the parlor and stepped inside, Billy jumped to his feet. He might have bloodied Robbie’s nose, but Billy had taken a few hits too. One cheek was red and swollen and his lip had been split. Julia sighed. “Oh, Billy. Look at you.”
“Robbie looks worse.”
“Robbie is your friend. Why were you fighting him?”
Billy looked down at his scraped hands. Julia moved into the room and closed the door behind her. “I don’t understand. You and Robbie never seemed to have a problem before.”
Billy’s shoulders hunched. “You wouldn’t understand, my lady.”
“You could try telling me.”
He shook his head firmly. “No, my lady.”
“Very well. I imagine you are hungry. Go to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Koch I said to give you something to eat. When you’ve finished, join the other boys in the drawing room with Mrs. Dunwitty.”
“Yes, my lady. Is Mrs. Dunwitty the small lady with the poof of hair?”
She smiled. “Yes, but one thing I learned from Mrs. Dunwitty is that though someone may be small in stature that does not make them weak. Don’t test her, Billy. You will not win.”
“Yes, my lady.”
He lumbered off, and she sat at the desk and put her head in her hands. Perhaps Robbie would tell her what had happened between Billy and himself. She lost herself in writing letters and detailing expenses, so much so that when Wraxall pushed her door open, so that it thudded against the wall, she nearly jumped out of her seat. “What is wrong?” Blood marred the white of his shirt, trailing down one sleeve. She jumped to her feet. “You are hurt, sir!”
He glanced at his arm seeming to discount the injury. “It’s a scratch. You, my lady, may not come away so unscathed.”
“What on earth do you mean?” She moved closer to him, her eyes widening as she saw how soaked the shirt had become with blood. “Oh, never mind. You really must have that seen to. Where is Jackson?”
“I sent him to fetch my evening clothes. The Darlington musicale is this evening.”
Her heart seemed to thud painfully in her chest. “I’d forgotten.” She’d hoped she would have more time.
“That seems a recurring theme. I also told you to leave Billy locked in the parlor.”
“I did leave him here, but I had work to do, and he was hungry and has his studies.”
Wraxall stalked toward her. “Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason I told you to leave him in the parlor?”
“Did you ever think to tell me what it might be?”
He glared at her, and she glared back, but as she did so a drop of blood fell from her hand onto the carpet. She’d had enough. “Sir, you will come with me immediately. I insist on seeing to your injured arm.”
“I told you it was a scratch, and I haven’t finished this discussion.”
“Then by all means, we may continue it in my bedchamber.”
He started to protest and then closed his mouth. Julia did not know if she should take that as a good sign or a bad. She did want to treat the wound before he bled to death before her eyes, but she wasn’t certain she wanted him so eager to join her in her bedchamber.
Or perhaps it was she whose heart beat a little faster at the thought of him in her room, alone and shirtless.
“After you,” he said, drawing her attention to the fact that she was still standing in the middle of the parlor.