Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,105

knew better. If Julia wanted something, he would be forced to make the food himself, even if it were a humble plate of cheese and bread.

“No, thank you,” she said at once. “I don’t want anyone to go to any trouble. I need nothing but a place to lay my head, I assure you.”

“Then I bid you good night,” Jasper said, trying not to sound like a man ready to creep along the hallway and sneak into her bedroom.

Sending him another inscrutable look, she followed the maid up the main staircase.

Watching her go, waiting to follow at a respectable distance, Jasper tried to persuade himself the spirit of Christmas was causing his happiness and not because Julia was under his roof.

Chapter Thirty

“Lady W__ has gone to Lady Macroun’s much celebrated yearly Twelvetide country party. No one in Town seems to know whether her sister, who has lately been on the arm of Lord M__, accompanied her.”

-The Sun

Julia had more nerves in her stomach upon awakening near noon on Christmas Day at the Earl of Marshfield’s estate than she’d had when sneaking into his bedroom to steal his cravat pin months earlier.

And if she spent a moment discerning why, she would have to ascribe her anxiety to meeting his mother. That and having no clothing except the dress and coat in which she’d traveled.

She could do nothing about the former until she went downstairs and encountered the dowager countess. But the latter problem, she had to consider immediately. First, she needed some hot water and soap, and a comb at the very least.

Upon tugging the bell-pull beside her bed, in a very few minutes, a maid came in, although not the same weary one who’d assisted her the night before.

“Good morning, miss. Merry Christmas. I’ve brought you chocolate, unless you prefer tea.”

“That’s wonderful,” Julia exclaimed. “Chocolate is so much more filling when you awaken hungry.”

“Oh dear, miss.” The girl said, hurrying to set the tray down beside the bed, but only so she could free her hands to wring them. “I should have brought you some porridge or toast. Her ladyship will be in a right state if she thinks we’ve let you go hungry.”

Julia blinked at the maid’s distress.

“Don’t be silly. How could you know I was hungry?” Then she had a worrisome thought. “Is the dowager countess fierce?” If the maid was afraid of her, it didn’t bode well.

The girl took a step back before lowering her gaze to her shoes, saying nothing.

Julia realized at once her faux pas. The maid couldn’t talk with a guest about her employer, or she would find herself very soon without employment.

“That’s all right,” Julia said into the awkward silence. “I’m sorry I asked, only I don’t know anything about Lady Marshfield, and I didn’t want to step in the wrong puddle. It’s bad enough I came uninvited.”

“I understand, miss,” the maid said, taking the cup off the tray and handing it to Julia. “I’m happy to say her ladyship is usually in good spirits. We all like to keep her happy, though, and that’s the truth. So, if you need anything, please just let me know. My name’s Emily, miss.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’m afraid I do need a few things because I came here unexpectedly. I don’t have even another dress to wear save what I came in.”

The girl looked over to the wardrobe.

“You can look if you like,” Julia said, happy to be sipping chocolate in a warm bed.

Emily crossed the room and opened the right-hand side of a large armoire. Looking rather sad, her cream-colored wool dress hung there beside her gray coat.

Yet when the maid turned, she had a thoughtful expression. “I know we have dresses in the house that are a donkey’s age old. They were here when I came to work two years ago. Trunks full of them, miss.”

“I cannot simply help myself to someone else’s gowns.”

“No, miss, but I’ll ask Mrs. Bowman. She’s the housekeeper. Meanwhile, shall I help you dress?”

Julia wrinkled her nose. “Could I have a quick wash first?”

“Yes, miss. If you’ll come with me, just through here,” she trailed off as Julia got out of bed in her chemise, wishing she had slippers when her feet hit the cold floor, even with its carpet. Dutifully, she followed Emily through a doorway into the next room.

There was a porcelain tub standing cold and empty, and Julia longed to see it filled with steaming water. However, it seemed an extravagance to ask on the morning