Chapter 4

Four

J ulia remained quiet for the rest of the drive to the duke's home. Her mind whirled with hopes and fears as the carriage swayed and bounced across the London streets before departing the city. Maybe, just maybe, the duke was a godsend, and through him, her future would be secured. Though, he could just as easily be a cruel man, out to take advantage of her.

She cocked her head to the side, taking his measure. He did not appear to be the nefarious sort—not that she had ever met a true evildoer. Besides, the kind way he spoke and the valiant way he had rescued her led her to believe she was safe in his care. He had a kindhearted nature from what she had observed, and was far too handsome to be the nasty sort.

That is what she would keep telling herself, at any rate.

Pray, let me not be mistaken.

She relaxed a measure as the carriage swayed and bounced along the rutted country roads, her eyes growing heavy. Perhaps she would rest a bit. She allowed her lids to close but fought the urge to sleep. There would be time for that later. At present, she needed to stay on her guard.

The sway of the carriage relaxed her further and Julia managed to still her pounding heart. Worrying herself sick would do her no good at all. No, she would give herself over to her circumstances and see what came of them.

She spent the remainder of the ride resting, eyes closed and mind still.

"We have arrived," the duke said, his tone as nonchalant as if his bringing a homeless girl of low birth to his estate were an everyday occurrence.

Julia opened her eyes and glanced out the window. Her breath hitched when his grand house came into view. Her family home would fit into it at least a hundred times over. As it was cloaked in the darkness of night, she could not make out the fine details of the architecture; however, there was no mistaking the house's massive size as it stretched across the horizon and rose up against the inky sky.

A new beginning, perhaps, though she still feared it a grand mistake. She could never belong here. With a sigh, she smoothed her skirts.

"Do not be nervous." The duke flicked a reassuring glance her way.

"I shall endeavor not to be." Julia grinned, a new lightness overtaking her. Maybe she was destined for more than life had handed her. The grand home called to her soul like a beacon of renewal, and she allowed herself to hope—if only for a moment. "It is beautiful."

"Indeed. I will take you around to the servants' entrance and see that you are given a bath, a meal, night garments, and a proper gown to wear on the marrow."

Julia swallowed back a protest. His words stung as he clearly knew she did not belong in his world. Now, he meant to polish her so as to hide her truth. She turned to him, her gaze lighting on his. "It is not too late for you to change your mind. I can be on my way as soon as the carriage stops."

He leaned forward, a grin tilting his full lips and dancing in his eyes. "Nonsense. I offered you a position and you accepted. Do not tell me you mean to back out now."

"It is only that I do not wish to cause you any more trouble than I already have." His teasing eased the sting his words had caused, but she could not ignore the facts simply because he graced her with good cheer. "I fear I do not belong here."

He reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "You belong here as much as any other on the estate. I would not have hired you if I did not believe you would do well in the position."

Ignoring her niggling insecurities, Julia nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Do not thank me yet," he replied. "At least wait until you have met my mother and sister. For all you know, it is you doing me a great favor. My sister might be a hellion and my mother a beastly old crow." He winked at her roguishly.

Unable to help herself, Julia allowed her laughter to ring through the confines of the carriage. "I somehow doubt any of that is true."

The carriage came to a stop, and the duke assisted her down. Julia walked beside him, holding the crook of his arm. Heat seeped through his coat sleeve, sending waves of tingles into her hand as he led her into the house.

He drew her to a stop inside the kitchen, and she released her hold on him, instantly missing the contact. The utter loneliness she had felt ever since leaving home swept back into her like the surf returning to the shore.

All around her, servants bustled about, tending cooking pots, chopping vegetables, sweeping, and chatting amongst themselves. A sweet yet savory aroma filled her nostrils and her belly reacted with a low grumble. When had she last enjoyed a meal?

The duke looked about the bustling space. "Louise, come at once. I have someone to introduce to you."

A short, stout woman bustled across the room, then stopped before them with a wide crooked-toothed grin. "Your Grace." She gave a curtsy.

The duke nodded toward Julia. "This is Miss Julia Honeyfield. She is to serve as companion to Lady Celia."

"Pleased to meet ya, Miss Honeyfield." The servant's smile grew wider.

Julia returned her smile. "The pleasure is all mine."

"See that Miss Julia is shown to a bedchamber, given a bath, nightgown, and an appropriate day gown." When Louise nodded the duke turned to Julia. "Meet me in the parlor in one hour's time."

"Without fail," Julia said, her stomach fluttering.

" T hank you for all you have done, Your Grace." Julia stood beside the Duke of Selkirk in his family parlor, waiting to be introduced to Lady Celia and the dowager duchess. It was all she could do to keep from tapping her foot as nerves racked her body.

There was nothing she wanted more at this moment than for the ladies to approve of her. She reached down, smoothing her pale blue skirt.

Pray, let me make a good impression.

"Do not fret. Lady Celia will adore you, and Mother will welcome the company of another lady in the household." He offered a reassuring grin.

Julia stilled her hands but could do nothing about her rapidly beating heart. If only his words were true, but she knew perfectly well they were not. She was no lady. She was a country girl of low birth, who had no business in a duke's stately residence.

What if the dowager duchess and her daughter saw Julia for what she was and rejected her out of hand? Julia held her breath as a lithe woman with the same blond hair as the duke's sauntered into the parlor, followed by a younger girl whose face was framed in curls of the same golden shade."What is the meaning of this, Charles?" The older lady came to stand before the duke.

Julia begged her pulse to slow as she took in the pair. These women were his mother and sister, of that she could have no doubt. Furthermore, the dowager duchess seemed rather displeased by his early morning summons.

The younger woman marched right up to the duke and tugged at his coat sleeve, an impish gleam in her sky-blue eyes. "We've yet to break our fast, brother. Could whatever this is not have waited until our meal is finished?"

When both women stared at him impatiently, the duke shook his head. "I will not take much of your time." He looked from them to Julia and back again. "Allow me to introduce you to Miss Julia Honeyfield."

Julia smiled, then curtsied when the women turned their gazes on her. "A pleasure to meet you both."

The duke indicated his mother, nodding in her direction. "Miss Julia, this is my mother, the Dowager Duchess of Selkirk."

The lady nodded. "A pleasure, my dear."

He reached out a hand and patted his sister's shoulder. "And this is Lady Celia, my baby sister."

"I am no baby and you well know it." She peered at him, but the glint in her eyes belied her amusement, causing Julia to grin. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Julia. Are you to join us for breakfast?"

The duke answered, "Indeed she will, but first I wish to speak with all of you. Please sit." He waved a hand toward the cluster of mahogany and velvet furniture near the fireplace.

Julia's stomach fluttered as she positioned herself upon one of the plush wingback chairs. The dowager duchess had been studying her relentlessly since taking notice of her presence. What would become of her if the woman rejected her as a companion to Lady Celia?

She would find herself back on the streets—alone, in danger, hungry. As if on cue, her stomach growled, protesting a lack of sustenance. She could not think on it now; would not work herself up with the possibility of failure. She folded her hands before her and glanced at the duke.

All would be well.

With the ladies seated, he strolled closer to the fireplace and leaned against the mantel with a casual stance. "I have employed Miss Julia as a companion to Celia. She has been given a room and will be available to Celia when Celia is not otherwise engaged with her tutors. As part of Miss Julia's duties, she will also act as a chaperone."

A chaperone? That was far different than a companion. The position would require her to go about in society. How was Julia to accomplish such a task without embarrassing the family? She did not know the first thing about society rules, though she did know there were many.

Ill-at-ease, she turned her attention on the young lady. She did not seem the least bit concerned, sitting quietly with a pleasant expression on her face. Looking at Lady Celia, a realization hit Julia: if she was to be a success, she would have to become a lady herself.

The duke took a seat, crossed his legs and leaned back on the chair. "Celia is preparing to make her debut and, therefore, requires a steady companion and ready chaperone. Miss Julia, I have no doubt, will excel in both roles."

He shot a reassuring glance at Julia, though it did little to calm her nerves.

Ignoring her fluttering stomach, Julia stiffened her posture, notching her chin. "It is my honor to serve you, Lady Celia."

"How delightful." The girl grinned. "I am certain we will become fast friends."

Julia resolved then and there to become a lady. How, she did not know, but she would work hard, study, observe, do whatever she could to aid in her endeavor. She would learn all the rules and make the duke and his family proud to have her under their roof.

The dowager duchess flipped open her fan. "I will have a private word with you, Charles."

Julia's heart plummeted at the older woman's words as much as her tone. The lady did not approve of her. She saw through the facade and wanted her gone. There could be no other explanation.

"Very well." The duke turned his attention back to Lady Celia. "Celia, you may take Miss Julia to the breakfast room. Mother and I will join you once we have finished here."

Julia swallowed back her fear when he flashed her a warm, reassuring glance. She trusted him, even if she could not say why. Whatever the reason, she would cling to that belief like a drowning woman to a floating log. For she had nothing else to keep her afloat.

Lady Celia stood, then motioned for Julia. "Let us be on our way. I am famished."

"As am I." Julia gained her feet and, turning to the dowager, dropped into a curtsy. "Your Grace." Heavens, she did not even know if that was the proper way to address the lady. She straightened before repeating the gesture and words for the duke. At least she felt confident in how to address him.

Perhaps he could aid her in learning how to behave as a proper lady must. She'd suggest the idea as soon as she had a moment alone with him.