Chapter Eighteen #2
She lunged, punching out her fist in the way Lawrence had taught her. It had felt wonderful when the two of them had done it together, moving forward in the dappled light of the Almonry Den.
It felt awful now. Her fist connected with the chest of the tall man but made absolutely no difference. He merely laughed as she missed her balance and whirled helplessly to face another one of the men.
“A little fighter, we have here,” one of them laughed darkly.
Julia pushed back her hair and tried not to think about what was going to happen next. If she had only offered them her reticule right at the beginning, perhaps she—
“That she is,” said a voice she knew. “Far more impressive than you three, certainly.”
“Lawrence,” Julia breathed.
There he stood, just beyond them in the gloom, a dark and dangerous expression on his face as he glared at the miscreants.
Julia’s shoulders sagged with relief, panic dissipating the moment she knew he was here.
“She’s ours, you can have what’s left after we—”
Lawrence moved so swiftly, Julia could not understand how he had done it. He lunged at the tall man, fists flying furiously, nimbly ducking under the slower punches that came at him, and within a moment, the biggest man was lying on the ground howling, blood pouring from his nose.
“You little—”
Lawrence did not wait for the second man to complete his sentence. He rushed him, pushing him into the wall of the alley. Julia raised a hand to her mouth as the man’s head whacked against the brickwork. He slumped, unmoving.
She looked up, astonished at how eager she was to see the third man face Lawrence—but he had gone. The smallest, sniveling man had evidently decided facing the boxer was simply not worth it. His fleeing footsteps echoed down the alley.
“Julia?”
Julia blinked, hardly knowing what was about to happen next. “Lawrence?”
His hand was outstretched, his face grim. “Come on.”
She did not think. Her fingers entwined with his, and Lawrence pulled her.
They rushed down the alley in the direction he had come, the direction of the Almonry Den, Julia was sure. After a mere minute, they were gasping for breath out on a street almost dazzlingly bright as respectably dressed people passed them with tuts on their lips.
“Really!”
“Can’t even get out of the way!”
Julia put out a hand, attempting to reach the wall so she could keep her balance. What she ended up splaying her fingers against was just as strong but far warmer.
“Julia?”
She looked into the worried eyes of Lawrence Madgwick, and her heart soared.
He had saved her.
“Lawrence,” she said weakly.
“Are you quite well?” His urgent question was accompanied by his flickering gaze. “Julia, did they hurt you?”
“No,” Julia shook her head, then immediately desisted, the ground swaying before her. “No, they did not touch me.”
She braced herself for the next comment, which she knew would come. At least, if her mother or brother were here, they would certainly have followed up with the obvious.
“What were you doing down there? How could you put yourself in danger? Why don’t you take care to—”
But no such questions came. Lawrence crushed her into his arms, his embrace desperate as his fingers clung to her shoulders.
“I am so relieved you are safe.”
Julia’s hands wrapped around his thick muscular torso and only then, eyelashes fluttered shut, did she allow herself to truly relax.
She was safe. She was with Lawrence.
How long they stood there, she was not sure. Long enough for her frantic breathing to slow to match the steady rise and fall of his chest. Long enough to realize she wished to be nowhere else in the world but in his arms. Long enough to be an inconvenience, it seemed.
“Standing there, bold as brass, embracing!”
Julia slipped from his arms with flushed cheeks. “I suppose we should—”
“Yes,” said Lawrence quickly. “Come on.”
She blinked as he placed her hand on his arm and started walking them along the street. What she had been about to say was, “I suppose we should say goodbye.”
After all, had she not broken with him? Would he not be angry with her, upset she had so summarily ended their engagement?
But there did not appear to be upset in Lawrence’s eyes, at least not from what Julia could see as she shot glances at him as they walked. Only after a few minutes did she realize where they were going.
“The Dulverton Club—but Lawrence, we cannot—”
“No, not quite,” said Lawrence with a wry smile that made joy prickle into her heart. “Not yet, anyway.”
Not yet? Julia could not understand it, and she was even more confused when he instead strode past the Dulverton Club—a place Donald had once talked about attempting to join but had sheepishly returned home without saying a word—and up the steps of a grand house that appeared to occupy half the street.
“Lawrence, what are you—”
“I need to talk to you,” said Lawrence, utterly ignoring the fact that they were striding into someone’s house, and one far too impressive for the likes of them. “Come on.”
“But—oh, my.”
Julia stared as Lawrence shut the door behind them. It was hard not to.
The entrance hallway was absolutely magnificent.
Marble adorned every surface, the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
Elegant paintings hung on the walls, gold gilt frames glittering in the light of several candles in the chandelier above.
Several doors led off the hall, each of them beautifully carved oak.
A console table with a clock and several ornaments was the centerpiece just to the left of a sweeping staircase lined with red velvet carpet.
Julia swallowed. Whatever Lawrence thought he was doing, the owner of such a place would surely not take kindly to—