The MacGalloways: Books #1-3

Chapter 27

27

J ulia endured three days in an overcrowded coach which then left her in the square of the little seaside village of Brixham in the midst of a squall. Rain stung her face as she trudged the two miles to Huntly Manor. By the time she reached the entry to the drive, she was soaked to the bone, water sloshed through her slippers, and her fingers felt as if they’d been rubbed raw by the handle on her valise.

Tears streamed onto her cheeks, mixing with the rain and sliding into the corners of her mouth. Once the house was in sight, she leaned into the wind and hastened her pace as best she could. The place looked haunted with overgrown flowerbeds and weeds sprouting in the drive. Even the wisteria trellis had broken in half and lay in a heap beneath the library’s window.

The door opened as she approached the stoop. “My lady?” asked Willaby, hastening outside and grasping her elbow. “What the devil has happened?”

Merely hearing the old butler’s voice made an enormous sob wrack her body, bringing her utterly undone. “I-I-I have ruined everything .”

“There, there, come inside where it is warm.” Julia futilely wiped her eyes and allowed Willaby to lead her into the entrance hall. “Why didn’t you hire Mr. Brown and his hackney in town? I cannot believe you walked all this way in the rain, you could catch your death.”

Julia’s teeth chattered as she removed her sodden pelisse while trying to stop the flow of tears. “I can ill afford a hackney, not when I must pay for transport for the lot of us to sail to Australia—that is if you are willing.”

“Australia?” Willaby asked, taking her coat. “Of course I would never allow you to go on a voyage alone, but what is this talk of ruination? Tell me what has happened at once, my lady.”

Julia removed her dripping bonnet and gave it to the butler. “S-S-Silas Skinner confronted me at the Pool of London and told His Grace that I have been masquerading as his steward for months.” Julia buried her face in her palms. “Y-y-ou should have seen the look of horror in Dunscaby’s eyes. And there was nothing I could do but resign at once. I-I am so asha-a-a-med!”

“Dear Lord, when I watched you set off for Newhailes in the mail coach I feared something like this would happen.”

Julia bit down on her lip as she tried to bring her weeping under control. She wasn’t about to tell Willaby all of it—not coming across Sophie and meeting Martin at the ball dressed as Aphrodite. She wouldn’t admit that she had pretended to leave for Scotland so that she might enjoy her few remaining days in Martin’s arms without being saddled with her duties as steward, even though she had every intention of going to Scotland once her two weeks had come to an end. She wouldn’t even bother mentioning that Lady Charity had been incredibly helpful, making it easier to manage the ruse.

Willaby draped the sodden pelisse over his arm, his expression bereft. “The lot of us are well and truly ruined.”

He didn’t know the half of it. “And I can never again show my face in polite society.” Peaches, her cat came strutted into the entry, swishing his tail and rubbing against Julia’s leg. At least something, if not someone, thought her worthwhile. “Not only that, ’tis a matter of time before Mr. Skinner finds a way to evict us.”

“And you think Australia is the answer? Truly?”

She picked up the cat and ran her fingers through his soft fur, finding little solace as Peaches began to purr. “As soon as Papa is well enough to travel we shall board a transport and leave this place forever.”

The way Willaby’s bushy eyebrows drew together made Julia’s stomach churn. She’d been so wrapped up in her own remorse, she hadn’t noticed how weathered the elderly butler looked. His shoulders stooped a bit more than they did the last time she’d seen him. The lines around his mouth were drawn and his complexion sallow.

“Oh, heavens, forgive me. How is Papa?”

Willaby rubbed his fingers from his neckcloth, down the front of a once crisp white shirt. “I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but just this morning the physician told me to send for you at once.”

Julia clapped a hand over her mouth while her breath stopped in her chest. “At once? Is he…?” She couldn’t say it.

“I’m afraid it won’t be long, now.” As the walls closed in around her, Willaby placed a comforting hand on Julia’s shoulder. “Why don’t you don some dry clothes? I was about to take His Lordship his afternoon tincture. Give me a moment to set him to rights. I know it will raise his spirits to see you—especially once you’ve had a chance to freshen up.”

Peaches hopped from her arms as Julia glanced down to the mud splattered on the dress she’d been wearing for three days now. She didn’t need a mirror to know she looked a fright. “But I must see him straightaway.”

“A quarter of an hour will make no difference. Besides, if His Lordship sees you looking like a drowned kitten, he’ll know something is amiss. He’s far too frail to withstand more worry.”

“Of course. We shan’t burden him with my misfortune.”

Willaby gave an indecisive nod as he headed for the kitchens. Without a moment to lose, Julia took in a deep breath and made her way to her bedchamber. She’d spent the past three days in utter misery on her journey home from shame. She did derive some comfort from being back home, though it seemed oddly unfamiliar as well. So much had changed since she’d left. She had changed most of all.

And now, everything in her life was crumbling about her feet all because she was too selfish to deny herself a bit of romance. Yes, Mr. Skinner was a vile miscreant, but she was solely to blame for her deception.

Julia quickly changed into a dry muslin dress—albeit worn and frayed at the seams. She’d forgotten how tattered most of her clothing truly was. Willaby was already inside her father’s bedchamber where they were speaking softly. She knocked on the door jamb and popped her head inside. “Papa?”

Sitting up with a few pillows tucked behind his back, his gaze immediately shifted her way. “Julia?” He held out a jaundiced hand. “Have you been away?”

She moved inside and grasped his chilly fingers. “Yes. Yes I have been.”

By the saints, he looked like a shell of the man he’d once been—hollowed cheekbones, yellow complexion, even his eyes were rheumy and yellow. The sleeve of his nightshirt slid up his arm to reveal a dark, purple bruise. “Have you taken a fall?” she asked.

A vacant expression filled his eyes as his smile faded. “I…ah…do not think so.”

She turned to Willaby, widening her eyes with a questioning expression.

“He bruises with a mere touch.”

And he was obviously experiencing some confusion, but she didn’t want to discuss it with the butler now or speak about anything Papa might find upsetting.

She pulled over a chair and sat at the edge of his bed. “I’ve been in London for the Season.”

“Have you? I didn’t even realize that you’ve been away.”

A new bout of tears stung the rims of her eyes. “I wasn’t gone for long, but I did attend a ball and danced with a duke.”

Papa’s eyes widened with his faint smile. “A duke? Did he propose?”

Julia batted her hand through the air. “Hardly after one dance.”

“If I were a young nobleman, be it duke or earl, I wouldn’t allow a lass as fetching as you slip away.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Papa.” She traced her finger over the paper-thin skin on the back of his hand. “I’ve missed you.”

“You have? Have you been away?”

“Yes,” she repeated without providing anything further. A tear dribbled down her cheek as she looked him in the eyes, shattered by the lack of spark in his eyes. “’Tis raining something awful today. The drive is full of puddles.”

A semblance of a smile played upon his lips. “I quite enjoy the rain.”

“You do, indeed. I remember when I was a little girl and together we stomped through the puddles. We laughed and laughed while thunder clapped overhead, which made the chiding Mama gave us ever so worthwhile.”

“Mama…” He mused. “Is she here?”

“No.” Julia’s throat thickened as she looked to Willaby. She ought to be truthful. She’d had enough of covering up the truth for the rest of her days. “Your countess is in heaven.”

Papa released a heavy sigh as he sank into the pillows. “Then I shall see her soon.”