Chapter 7
“I always made my food congenial to my constitution, and my health was always excellent.”
Giacomo Casanova
Julius and Audrey left by the mews after dawn.
A relaxing afternoon at cards had given him the rest he needed to feel more himself, and Audrey had revealed herself to be a competitive player.
She had kept a painstaking record of their piquet scores, reading them aloud with an earnest expression at regular intervals.
Noticing that she was quick to laugh, he had used this to his advantage by peppering their discussion with amusing anecdotes until he had succeeded in distracting her sufficiently to play the winning hand.
Then they had discussed whether they should examine the street for watchers but agreed they lacked the manpower to do anything effective.
Best to assume the worst and use the entrance to the alley behind the house as Audrey had done the day of the attack.
Exhaustion had claimed him shortly after, and he had fallen asleep just after dinner, which he supposed was fortunate because of their plans to rise early.
This morning, he was dressed in an overcoat, clean work boots, and a battered hat pulled down low to disguise his distinctive hair.
Patrick had dug them up the day before from the room where the grooms slept, along with a hat and coat for Audrey, before heading out to purchase her a pair of lad’s work boots.
She swam in her bulky men’s clothing, her figure thoroughly obscured beneath rough wool and heavy seams, which Julius appreciated far more than he cared to admit.
The layers kept her safe, unrecognizable, and helped him concentrate fully on the task ahead.
She must have found a way to flatten her chest, for she passed easily as a wiry adolescent—quick-limbed and unassuming.
Julius felt considerably stronger than the day before, although Audrey had cautioned him that they must take it easy.
His knife wound still throbbed, but Audrey assured him she was satisfied with the healing process under way.
With a full day of rest and several meals in his belly, he had woken up this morning feeling almost normal.
They carefully left the neighborhood, even altering their gaits until they reached one of the main roads. Julius hailed a hackney, and soon, they were on their way to watch the vicarage where Stone resided.
“This is exciting,” his companion proclaimed, peering around at the streets as they drove by. “Perhaps we could visit a coffeehouse?”
Julius grinned. “Men certainly have access to far more places, but a coffeehouse? That is the top of your list?”
Audrey smiled back, her eyes glistening when she turned to answer him. “Papa loved to visit coffeehouses. I am at a loss why we never thought to dress me as a boy so I could join him in one.”
The image of her in those borrowed garments surfaced again, but this time, it stirred something quieter, more reflective. She had looked wholly unlike herself and yet entirely in command. Confident, curious, and alert to the world in a way that made him ache with admiration.
Over the last two days, she had revealed herself to be far more than a gentlewoman in disguise.
There was something restless in her spirit, something brave and untamed, and Julius found himself wondering what it might be like to walk beside such a woman.
Before she returned to Stirling to pursue her noble ambitions, he wanted to understand just how deep her courage ran and whether a place existed for him within that future.
“Perhaps we will have an opportunity to visit one. Perhaps we shall visit other domains of men.”
Audrey’s face lit up, evidently elated at the possibility. He wondered where he might take her. Tattersall’s to witness the horse auctions? Perhaps a dancing hall to watch a show? Sharing these activities with her was unexpectedly intriguing. To observe her seeing them for the first time.
Soon, they disembarked on the vicar’s street.
It was a block from the church where Stone presided.
Of all the suspects on the list, this was the one whom Julius considered least likely.
From his prior investigations over the past few weeks, Julius had been unable to learn anything of note about Stone.
He was well-liked by his parishioners. He had been serving the Church of England for nearly thirty years, and most of his days appeared to be filled with good works.
If anything, he seemed reluctant to one day inherit the title from his older brother.
However, in his previous attempts to uncover something incriminating, Julius had not known for certain that the killer was one of the three men on the list. Now that he did, he had a renewed interest in covering this ground again with the benefit of his new perspective.
There was a one-in-three chance Stone was their killer, and knowing that might bring to light something Julius had not observed before.
To his genuine amusement, he peered around the street to confirm that one of his favorite coffeehouses was right on the corner.
“Et voilà!” He waved in presentation. Audrey turned to see what he was gesturing at, a grin of delight lighting her face.
“Truly?”
“I propose we sit in the window and watch Stone’s home from within.”
Audrey clapped her hands, skipping in the direction before remembering she was in disguise. Clearing her throat in a husky voice, she slowed to her interpretation of a masculine swagger. Julius chuckled, keeping pace with her with ease. His legs were longer, after all.
Entering the dim interior, he breathed in the rich aroma of coffee with joy.
The scent was earthy and comforting, a familiar balm against the tension of the day.
He noted the window seat was occupied and the tables half filled despite the early hour, but he was determined to allow Audrey her first visit to a house of coffee.
The thought pleased him more than it ought.
Musing for a moment that he could not simply use his status to convince the two clerks sitting at the window table, Julius considered his options.
Approaching the two studious men who must have stopped here on their way to work, Julius sidled up to stand right over them in an intimidating stance.
“Would you fellows mind if me brother an’ me sit ’ere? We’re to meet someone ou’side, but they ain’t shown yet so we must ’ave a clear view.”
The men, dressed in the neat but boring attire of clerical work, looked up at him with startled expressions. Taking in Julius’s height and rough garments, a trace of fear crossed their features before both men rose with haste. “That is fine, sir. We were just done.”
Throwing coin onto the table next to their half-full mugs, the two men made a hasty exit. Julius turned to find Audrey staring at him in amazement.
“Do you always get what you want?” she asked, keeping her voice low and husky to avoid attracting attention to her femininity.
Julius shrugged. “Almost always.”
They took their seats at the table, Julius ensuring he had a clear view down the street to Stone’s door.
“You possess many faces, Julius.” Audrey’s low comment implied she was not certain if this revelation should impress or disgust her.
He grinned, his attention remaining fixed out the window. “Not to mention, many personalities.”
Audrey harrumphed. “I always thought you got your way because you are the son of an earl, but I am coming to realize you would find alternative methods even if you were not.”
Julius shrugged again, glancing at her. “Where there is a will, there is a way.”
One of the buxom women serving tables interrupted them. Julius placed their orders while Audrey sank into her coat, her hat masking her features from the server. Once they were alone again, she continued their earlier discussion.
“I think perhaps you need to learn an ounce of moderation. Considering …” Audrey gestured toward his injury.
“Perhaps.”
“Heaven help the world if you turned your talents to something useful,” she muttered.
Julius quirked an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to her for the briefest of moments before returning to his observation of Stone’s front door. “A murder investigation is not useful?”
There was a pause.
“I apologize if I sounded condescending. It is courageous of you to pursue justice on behalf of your friends. I meant in a general sense, not this specific situation.”
Julius had the urge to remove his glove to twist his ring, but instead, he stuffed that hand into one of his ample pockets.
“Ah, but if I did that, I might become Lord Snarling, and we would not want that.”
“Lord Snarling … oh! You mean your father?”
Julius gave a brusque nod. When he glanced her way after several seconds of silence, he found Audrey staring at him with a thoughtful expression. He averted his gaze back to the street, uncomfortable with the intimacy of their discussion.
The serving woman returned, planting two mugs on the table with a firm thud, which caused a few drops to spill and run down the sides. She used a towel to wipe them off and walked away to serve another table.
Audrey pulled her mug closer, lowering her face to inhale deeply. Finally, she spoke. Unfortunately, she returned to the subject of his parent.
“Why do you have to become a version of your father? Why can you not be your own man?”
Julius frowned, cocking his head at the unexpected question. He opened his mouth to reply. “Because … because … because … I … do not … know … why.”