Chapter 5

Five

C harles waited until the patter of Celia and Miss Julia's footfalls faded from hearing before he turned his attention back to his mother. He could only imagine she wished to discuss Miss Julia, and he feared she might be offended by whatever his well-meaning Mama might say.

"You have my ear."

Mother set her fan on her lap, then folded her hands. "Tell me, darling, where did you find this woman?"

He schooled his expression so as not to give anything away. "It does not signify. I have no doubt she will be the perfect companion to Celia."

"It is not that I do not trust your judgment; however, I could not help but notice that she seemed a bit…uncomfortable. It does not escape me that she is not of our class."

Charles did not give a damn where she came from. He only wanted to protect her from the evils that befell young girls when no one looked out for their welfare. Still, he had to give Mother something—just the barest of details. "Miss Julia hails from Kent. Her mother sent her to London in search of employment."

Mother arched an eyebrow. "I will need to know more than from where she hails. Celia may be your responsibility, but she's my daughter." She lifted her chin imperially. "I must keep her best interests in mind."

Charles, taking a moment to think, moved away from the fireplace. He could not very well tell Mother the truth. Though, he would have to tell her something. She did have a right to know about the woman who would be spending time with Celia.

On the other hand, he could simply steer the conversation in a different direction.

He moved to sit beside his mother. "You are not mistaken about her not coming from an aristocratic family; however, that is not uncommon among companions, nor does it deem her a bad choice."

Mother lowered her fan to her lap. "Do not mistake my concern for disapproval." She smiled. "I do not take issue with her being of a lower class. But I would like to know more about her. Do you know anything of her parents? What of her upbringing? Her education?"

He could not deny his mother's questions held merit, nor could he pretend to know the answers to most of them. In truth, he'd not taken the time to consider any of that. None of the answers mattered in his opinion. Miss Julia needed their help, and he would be damned if they would not give it to her.

"I know only that her father has left them, and her mother could not afford to support her any longer. She is of a good nature and possesses an unblemished reputation."

Mother narrowed her gaze. "How do you know these things?"

"Miss Julia was forthcoming when I asked her about her history." Charles stood, moved to the sideboard and poured a tumbler of Scotch. "I have no doubt she will make a splendid companion. As for the rules of society, you will instruct her. There is plenty of time before Celia's debut."

"And if I should decide that I do not agree with you, what then? Will you dismiss her?" Mother gave him a challenging stare.

Charles took a drink of his Scotch, relishing the warmth it spread through him. "Let us worry about such things if or when they come to pass." Irritation laced his tone.

He did not doubt his mother had their best interests in mind, but he would not be dissuaded. He had always been a champion of those less fortunate, and Miss Julia certainly was in need of benevolence. He shuddered to think what might become of her without his largess. At best, she would end up back at Madame Lavinia's; at worst, she would have her throat cut in some woebegotten alley. Perish the thought. He would not wish such a fate on any innocent woman, though he knew it happened more often than it should. Whores were not for him, but he was far from addlepated about the workings of London.

Fresh out of school, he had on occasion visited the "convents" of Covent Garden. He had even struck up a friendship of sorts with one of the "nuns." Like Miss Julia, Sophie had not asked for the life she'd been given. Though he had never felt a tenderness for Sophie, Charles had taken pity on her, bought her a small cottage in northern England, and given her enough coin to see her settled. As well as arranging a position for her in a local viscount's home.

Unfortunately, he could do nothing to erase the scars of her past. Still, he took comfort in knowing she now led a better life. It was after Sophie that he stopped visiting such places. There were plenty of widows willing to warm his bed when he found himself in need.

Miss Julia, unlike Sophie, remained innocent. He could, and would, protect her regardless of what Mother wished. Nonetheless, having Mother's support in the matter would make things a great deal easier.

Charles gave a lopsided grin meant to charm Mother and end the debate. "I only ask that you give her a chance. After all, it is you who taught me to be compassionate."

"Very well, I will do as you wish…for now." Mother stood, tapping her fan on her hip. "Now, let us go in for breakfast, shall we?"

Based on the gleam in his mother's eyes, he should be nervous for Miss Julia. Still, the woman had charmed him nearly from the moment she collided with him, and Celia had taken an immediate liking to the girl. No doubt Mother, too, would grow fond of Miss Julia in time.

He placed his tumbler back on the sideboard then proffered his arm. "We will speak with Miss Julia after breakfast."

Mother nodded and rested her gloved hand on his elbow. Neither spoke another word as he escorted her to the breakfast room.

When they entered, they found Celia and Miss Julia chatting away like old friends. Charles could not help but be pleased as he took his seat at the head of the table.

J ulia glanced at His Grace as she placed a bite of boiled egg into her mouth. She could not help but wonder what the dowager duchess wanted to speak with him about. Did it have to do with her? Somehow, she suspected it did. The lady obviously had reservations, and who could blame her? Julia doubted her own ability to master the duties with which the duke had entrusted her.

For heaven's sake, she did not even know which fork to use. As each course was served, she looked to Lady Celia to see which utensil she picked up. How was she ever to learn the rules of being a lady when something as trivial as flatware left her flustered?

A cursory glance around the table revealed that the dowager duchess was watching her. Julia gave the lady a smile before turning her attention back to her meal. She attempted to take another bite but found her stomach too upset. Her emotions had been in turmoil ever since Mama sent her away, and it was taking a toll.

Weary and unsure, Julia sat down her fork. "Might I be excused?"

His Grace turned his attention on her. "Is everything all right? If the food is not to your liking, I can have something else brought in."

"Oh no, that is not it at all. It is only that I have developed a headache and am much in need of rest, Your Grace." She felt the warmth of a blush upon her cheeks. The last thing she desired was to appear ungrateful.

He set his glass aside. "By all means retire to your room. I will send up a tonic."

"But first, I would have a word with you," the dowager duchess put in.

Julia did not miss the way the duke turned his eyes on his mother. "Yes, of course."

"My son tells me you are new to London." The lady took a drink from her china teacup, her pinky extended as she brought the cup to her lips.

Julia nodded. "That is correct."

"How delightful. He also told me that you come from a family of limited means."

Lady Celia gasped. "Mother! That is no concern of ours."

Julia ignored the stab to her pride. "It is quite all right. I am not ashamed of where I come from." She looked at His Grace, though she had no idea why. It was not like the man had done anything wrong, nor could he change who she was. All the same, she felt drawn to him.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. "I believe what my mother is trying to say is that you may need some guidance in order to be successful here in London." He turned his attention on the dowager duchess. "Isn't that right, Mother?"

The lady tilted her head, her gold earbobs reflecting the candlelight from the room. "Indeed. One cannot simply traipse about London and hope for the best. You must understand the rules of society and follow them without fail."

"Perhaps I would be better suited as a maid, for I know nothing of society's rules." Julia shifted her gaze back to the food on her plate. She had been fooling herself to think that she could ever be a lady.

"Nonsense. Mother has agreed to teach you everything you need to know. By the time Celia's come-out has arrived, you will be every bit a proper lady." His Grace shot the dowager a scathing look before lifting his fork for another bite.

"I would like to help as well." Lady Celia smiled brightly. "It will be great fun and give me the chance to practice further."

Julia exhaled the breath she'd been holding and returned the girl's smile. Lady Celia was delightful, a friendly, energetic young lady. Julia did not doubt they could become friends. "I would like it if you did."

"And His Grace will assist too." The dowager duchess grinned in his direction.

The duke's eyes widened and he reached for his water glass, taking a copious drink. "There then, all is settled. Miss Julia, you are welcome to retire now."

Julia feared she would cast up her accounts if she did not escape the breakfast room and its tension soon, especially when she was the source of the tension. Relief swept through her when a footman rushed forward and pulled out her chair.

She stood, locking gazes with the duke. "Thank you, Your Grace." She nodded to the ladies, then made her way for the exit, desperate to find her chamber.

"Be in the drawing room at nine a.m. sharp on the morrow," the dowager duchess called after her.

Julia paused mid-step to look back toward the table. "I will not be late."

As she departed the room, she could not help but wonder over the lady. Her words came across cool, aloof even, but there was a kindness to her demeanor as well. A softness hidden behind her tough exterior. Did she disapprove of Julia, or was she merely being cautious?

In either case, one could hardly blame the lady.

As Julia mounted the grand curving staircase, she resolved to turn the dowager into a friend, even an ally. She would prove herself worthy of her new position, even if she was not entirely sure she deserved to be elevated in such a way.