Gone With the Rogue Page 5

  Brina clutched her hands together tightly and scooted closer to Julia. “Ready for what? I see concern in your expression.”

  “That is the second part of the story. I’ve always known the duke had two faces. The righteous one he relishes and everyone in Society and the rest of his family sees, and the coldhearted one I must endure every day. But now I have the chance to prove to everyone he isn’t the man he’s always claimed to be. As distasteful as it is for me, I’m going to search the duke’s private rooms, every drawer, every pocket of every coat, under every rug—” Julia paused and shook her head in earnest. “I will leave nothing untouched and will not stop until I find the confirmation of his own wrongdoing and confront him for his deceitful ways.”

  Worry etched in Brina’s face. “What wrongdoing? What will you be looking for?”

  “Documents,” she answered firmly. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in the garden reading. I heard the duke and Mr. Isley, his solicitor, approaching on the other side of the tall hedge. There was no reason to alert them I was there. I assumed they’d continue walking and never know I was nearby. And they did, but not far past me they stopped. I could hear them clearly.” Julia paused and glanced toward the doorway again. She had no reason to believe the housekeeper or the footman would eavesdrop on her conversation, but she still needed to be careful. “Mr. Isley asked the duke where the documents on the Eubury-Broadwell Gaming Company were kept. He replied that they were safely hidden in the London house with all the rest of his secret companies.”

  “Secret?” Brina asked.

  “Yes. Mr. Isley responded that the duke should destroy all papers concerning that company the next time he was in London because fifteen people were killed in ‘the explosion.’ The townspeople were asking for help in locating the owner so they could force him to pay restitution to the victims’ families. The duke said, ‘Poppycock. They can look all they want. We know they will never find the owner because there is no such man. But I will dispose of the papers.’ He laughed as they walked away.”

  “What explosion?” Brina asked. “I don’t read newsprint every day. I must have missed it.”

  “I don’t know any more than I’ve told you. I must find out. Most explosions happen in mines and there are many all over England. It could have occurred anywhere.” Julia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment at the thought of finding that evidence and what it would mean for her. “The important thing is that I get my hands on the documents for the Eubury-Broadwell Company. No one knows he owns it and the papers would prove the duke isn’t the standard bearer for how one should treat their fellow man justly. He wouldn’t want everyone in Society to know he lives a lie and that he doesn’t treat people fairly. It would ruin his credibility and topple the pedestal he’s put himself on. I’m going to find that proof, and when I do, I’m going to tell him if he doesn’t allow me to live as I choose with my son, I will make sure the true ownership of the company will be made known to everyone in Society and all of London, too.”

  “What can I do?” Brina asked anxiously. “Should I help you search the house?”

  “My dear Brina.” Julia smiled and shook her head. “Do you really want to sneak over here at midnight, slip into the house to help me look through the duke’s personal chambers?”

  Brina shook her head, too. “No, but you know I will do anything for you.”

  “It has helped tremendously just talking to you. I will manage the search on my own, though.” Julia looked toward the doorway again. “After everyone went to bed last night, I took a candle into the duke’s book room and carefully inspected the floor for loose boards. That is, every area except under the duke’s massive desk. It’s no ladies’ rosewood secretary with spindle legs. I tried to move it so I could look under the rug it sits on, but it was impossible to budge. It will take someone much stronger than me to lift it.”

  Brina frowned. “Why did you want to look at the floor?”

  Mr. Stockton’s words flashed through her mind again. Julia considered telling Brina about his suggestion, and she would. Later. “For a compartment where he might have hidden his secret papers.”

  “Oh, yes.” Brina’s expression brightened with understanding. “I can see where hiding something under a big desk that isn’t easy to move would be a good idea for the person hiding it. So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Julia inhaled deeply. “I can’t ask Mr. Leeds to help me. He’s not very strong, anyway. Maybe if I solicited the help of Miss Periwinkle and my maid we could move one end at a time. But I’m not sure I want them to know what I’m doing. Right now, I still have many places I can look.”

  “But his book room is the most logical place because he would keep all his correspondence there, right?”

  “That is what I’m thinking, which is why I’ll start looking behind the books for secret places in the wall.”

  “I wish I could help you!”

  “Of course, I’ll call on you if I think of anything you can do. I’m watching Mrs. Desford and Mr. Leeds to see if they have set routines. If they go up to their rooms at a certain time each day to rest, or if they leave to purchase food—anything that will give me a few minutes in the house alone to enter the duke’s bedchambers.”

  Julia could search his rooms at night, but the thought of being in his chambers in the darkness sent a chill over her. In truth, she’d never felt in danger from the duke, but the fear of him keeping her from ever seeing her son again was much worse than any physical harm he could do to her.

  “In any case, I will take whatever opportunity presents itself. But there is something you can do.”

  “Anything.”

  “Ask your father if he knows of a recent explosion that resulted in deaths.”

  “I will as soon as he returns. He’s visiting his brother and isn’t expected back for a few days. I will ask Mama if she remembers hearing anything about it. You know she’s of the mind that ladies shouldn’t read anything other than poetry and the scandal sheets.”

  Julia laughed lightly. “I do. I’ve probably told you that after my uncle caught me reading The Times he started throwing it in the fire when he finished with it so there would be no possibility of me getting my hands on it again. He thought I was far too young to be exposed to things that were written in it. I was seventeen.”

  Sighing, Brina relaxed her shoulders a little. “We have been treated far too delicately most of our lives, haven’t we?”

  “Yes, but as you know, men are very powerful and controlling.”

  “Stewart was never that way.”

  “I remember.”

  A knock sounded on the front door. York barked once, but she didn’t hear his nails immediately clicking on the hardwood floor. In his old age, he seemed to have lost all curiosity about who was paying a visit. And once he lay down, she knew it was a struggle for him to get up again.

  Julia took in an exasperated breath and gave her attention back to Brina. “I don’t know who the caller is, but I would bet my favorite slippers the duke sent a letter to someone asking them to pay me a visit to make sure I’m behaving myself.” From the corner of her eye, Julia saw Mrs. Desford pass by the drawing room. “We’ve talked enough for now about me and my troubles. Let’s talk about you. What have you been doing this summer?”

  Brina brushed her hand down her skirt absently, and said, “I’ve been doing the usual. Reading, painting, writing poetry, and—” She stopped and sighed. “There is something that’s been on my mind and I’ve wanted to—”

  “Excuse me, my lady,” Mrs. Desford said from the doorway. “There is a gentleman here to see you. Mr. Garrett Stockton.”

  Chapter 4

  Julia’s heartbeat increased rapidly. A prickle of apprehension and anticipation burst inside her. The sojourner, at her house?

  A gripping sense of eager anticipation shuddered through her. He’d come to see her. She’d hoped to see him again. Even wanted to see him, but he shouldn’t have come to the duke’s hou
se. That was asking for trouble, and she already had more than enough to deal with.

  She glanced at Brina who looked as shocked as Julia felt. “I have no idea why he is here.”

  “Is he who I think he is?” Brina asked, clearly intrigued by hearing his name.

  “Yes,” Julia answered honestly. “I met him yesterday in the park.”

  “You saw him yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “I was going to, of course,” Julia whispered defensively. “But I thought the other information more important. It doesn’t matter. I must send him away. He can’t be seen at the duke’s house.”

  “No,” Brina said emphatically, in a normal voice, and then catching herself, whispered, “For now, tell Mrs. Desford you need a moment to consider this and let’s talk about it.”

  Julia hesitated. Her heart was racing even faster. She wanted to see Mr. Stockton again but knew the peril of doing so. The duke would never approve of her conversing with such a man. But then she saw Brina’s expression tighten with determination.

  Looking back to the housekeeper, Julia said, “Please ask Mr. Stockton to wait in the vestibule until you have word of whether or not I’m available.”

  Mrs. Desford nodded.

  “Tell me everything,” Brina insisted. “Now.”

  Though she’d hoped no one else would ever know she’d been stuck in the tree, Julia had now been caught yet again. But Brina was the one person Julia didn’t mind telling.

  Starting with, “I met Mr. Stockton in the park quite by accident yesterday.” She quickly told Brina the most relevant information about what occurred. But, of course, how the man had stirred her with wanton feminine desires and the near kiss between her and the adventurer weren’t part of Julia’s confession. For now, she would keep those things from her friend. They were too intimate to share.

  Brina’s blond brows rose slightly, and she leaned forward slowly, as if patiently, carefully considering everything Julia had said. “I’ve never met him. He left England before our debuts. I’ve heard he’s quite a dashing captain and that he may actually be a pirate.”

  “I don’t think he’s either of those things. He’s just a man.” But as soon as Julia said the words she knew they weren’t true. He wasn’t just a man. If he was, her heartbeat wouldn’t speed up to an alarming rate every time she looked at him. Every time she thought about him. She wouldn’t be trying to convince herself she wasn’t feeling what she was feeling at just the thought of him coming over to see her.

  “Oh,” Brina said, seeming a little disappointed he wasn’t a pirate or a master of a ship.

  “You can understand why the duke must never know about the encounter I had with him, and why—” Julia stopped when Chatwyn let out a high-pitched, jubilant squeal as he ran from room to room abovestairs.

  Brina smiled wistfully. “I know it thrills your heart every time you hear him.”

  “Yes, of course it does,” Julia said softly. “I simply couldn’t bear it if the duke ever kept me from seeing him. And Chatwyn is the reason I can’t encourage Mr. Stockton. I must find evidence the duke is not who everyone thinks he is, that he has misrepresented himself time and time again and confront him with the truth. I can’t continue to live in this kind of fear.”

  “You will find what you seek,” Brina said confidently. “But you can’t search the house right now, so you might as well find out why Mr. Stockton is here. Mrs. Desford already knows he’s here. Either she will tell the duke or not. Perhaps it’s something as simple as you dropped your handkerchief in the park and he’s come to return it.”

  “That can’t be,” Julia answered on a breathy note of eagerness that crept into her voice. She did want to know why he’d come. Was it that he’d felt all the things she had yesterday? “I didn’t have one with me.”

  “Perhaps he found someone else’s and he wants to think it’s yours.”

  “What are you implying?”

  Brina folded her arms across her chest and gave Julia an expression that seemed to suggest she knew exactly why he was at Julia’s door and it had nothing to do with handkerchiefs. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me say this. The only other reason I can think he might be here is because you caught his fancy and he wants to see you again. If only to make sure you have no lingering effects from being stuck in the tree for so long on such a hot day.”

  Julia frowned, though tingles of anticipation were washing through her at an alarming speed at the very thought of it being he simply wanted to see her again, and she had no hope of suppressing them. “Whatever his reason, it doesn’t matter,” she said reluctantly. “He can write a note if he wishes to inquire about my welfare.”

  Brina’s brow furrowed again. “Though I’m not privy to anything about Mr. Stockton other than gossip I’ve heard over the years, I don’t think he’s the kind of man who writes notes to anyone. It’s perfectly fine for you to invite him in and see what it is he wants. I am here to be your companion, so you aren’t seeing him alone. Besides, I want to meet him.”

  “Really, Brina?”

  “Not for romantic reasons, of course. I certainly don’t have designs on him. Whether true or not, I’ve heard stories about him fighting pirates as well as being one. It’s rumored he once stole an entire ship that was filled with grain and sailed it to starving—”

  “I’ve heard all those stories, too,” Julia interrupted her friend, and then huffed out a breath as she noticed Mrs. Desford waiting just outside the doorway for an answer about whether to turn the man away or to bring him into the drawing room.

  “Mr. Stockton couldn’t have done all that was gossiped about him. That would be impossible. But since you are eager to meet him, I will do you the favor and invite him to join us.”

  Julia looked over at Mrs. Desford and nodded.

  “That’s all I asked. Why did it take you so long to agree?”

  “Because I wanted to put my poor judgment of saying yes to this mistake squarely on your shoulders. I can’t let him stay long. He’ll have his say—whatever that is—and then leave.”

  The sound of masculine boots walking across a wooded floor sounded down the corridor. Curls of expectancy danced in Julia’s stomach.

  “Just remember,” Brina said. “He is interested enough in you to seek you out. No matter the reason.”

  Brina’s words sent ripples of excitement flowing through Julia again. She wanted it to be so yet feared the thought of it, too. The duke had never minced words with her. She could continue to be a part of her son’s life only if she continued to be his son’s widow—a proper widow who stayed true to Kitson’s memory. Right now her future was dependent on finding the information on the Eubury-Broadwell Gaming Company. She couldn’t allow a handsome man to make her lose her focus on that.

  “I hope I don’t regret doing this,” she added, more to herself than to Brina.

  A moment or two later, Mr. Stockton rounded the corner and sauntered into the drawing room as comfortably as if he’d been a welcomed guest there many times. Julia savored the sight of him as he strode across the room. A warmth of fluttering excitement swirled in her chest. If possible, he seemed taller, more imposing, and more magnificent than he had yesterday. The fawn-colored coat he wore matched his golden-brown eyes and fit perfectly across his shoulders. His neckcloth wasn’t fancy with lace or tied into an elaborate bow or intricate knot. His one bit of frippery was the short leather tassels that hung on the sides of his boots near the knee.

  He stopped near her and bowed. “Lady Kitson, pardon me for intruding on your afternoon and your guest.”

  “You’re not,” she said honestly, embracing how wonderful it felt just to see him again. Brina was right. The deed and its damage were done. He was already at her door. Right now she could enjoy talking to him. Later she could worry about the possible consequences if the duke heard about this visit and the job she had yet to accomplish. “I’d like to introduce my friend, Mrs. Brina Feld. Brina, Mr. Garrett Stockton.”


  The two greeted each other politely and, no surprise to Julia, Brina didn’t offer him her hand. Since the death of her husband, she was particular about whom she allowed near her. Julia knew Brina definitely wanted to examine Mr. Stockton closely, but from afar.

  He turned his attention back to Julia. “I won’t take up much of your time, Lady Kitson. You are looking well. It doesn’t appear you’ve had any ill effects from the heat of the past few days.”

  Julia’s hand automatically lifted to rub the back of her neck, where Mr. Stockton’s fingers had touched her skin so lightly as he held the knife and cut the threads of her collar. “None at all, Mr. Stockton.” She let her arm drop to her side. “As you can see, I’m quite well.”

  “I’m pleased to know that. I wanted to let you know I retrieved your butterfly net from the tree in the park.”

  Surprised, she looked at his empty hands. “You mean you went back to the tree and—”

  He started nodding before she finished, so her voice trailed off.

  Keeping his voice low, he said, “From our brief encounter, I had no doubt you are quite fearless and filled with a considerable amount of will. I thought you might go back and try to get the net out of the tree yourself. I wanted to save you the trouble and do it for you.”

  Julia struggled to fight the very real attraction that was developing between them. Mr. Stockton seemed to know just what to say to make her feel confident in herself, and she desperately needed that right now. It pleased her that he considered her strong and capable and filled with determination. And there was a time she would have gone back for the net. But that was before the duke had used her son to take control of her life. She had to remember that even now he could have recovered sufficiently to be on his way to join them in London.

  She must keep her thoughts, her focus, her very being on finding the incriminating documents on the Eubury-Broadwell Company. Then, once she was free of the duke and his plans for her life, she would be able to enjoy and pursue the feelings Mr. Stockton stirred up in her. Her heart sank a little. If he was still in London and hadn’t returned to the sea.