Chapter 15

"It is only necessary to have courage, for strength without self-confidence is useless."

Giacomo Casanova

Audrey went down to breakfast, nursing a headache. She had lain awake all night considering her future, and regretted not speaking with Julius about whatever plan he had mentioned to rescue her from scandal. Perhaps she could have slept if she had a solution to the future, but instead she had tossed and turned, unable to stop worrying about it.

When she had awakened and rung for the maid to assist her, a different maid had arrived. Audrey had been nonplussed, questioning the young servant to learn that the other maid had quit a few days earlier. This had been jarring news. Had she quit to distance herself from Audrey's situation, or perhaps as a direct indictment of Audrey's continued disappearance?

Belowstairs must be rife with gossip over her, especially now that she had returned. It was not uncommon to lose servants over disreputable occurrences, and she hoped she had not created too much chaos for Lord Stirling when he ultimately returned.

Approaching the breakfast room, she noticed a footman standing sentry in the hall. She noted it must be one of the new Johns that arrived the previous night, because she did not recognize him. The guardsmen had arrived while it was dark, so she had not gotten a proper look at most of them. The servant in question was a little too short, a little too worn around the edges, and his livery was askew. Especially the stock around his throat. Not to mention that his sleeves were too long. However, he had a glint in his eye that suggested a fierce nature—someone who could hold his ground in a fight.

Passing him to enter the room, Audrey found a footman she did recognize standing in wait at the sideboard where the breakfast trays were laid out. Taking up a plate, she served up eggs and fruit and dropped into a seat with a heavy sigh. She had been hoping to find Julius—or rather, Lord Trafford, she supposed, since they were back in polite society. If he had thoughts on how to mitigate this disaster, she would like to hear them. The logistics of her situation were what had plagued her all night.

Did she need to wait for the Earl of Stirling to return before she could leave London? There did not appear to be an alternative.

Must she alert someone she was home?

Send a letter to Lady Astley with some contrived explanation for her disappearance?

She was loath to announce she was home. It might serve as an invitation for Lady Astley to show up and scold Audrey. The old bat might insist that Audrey leave with her so she could chaperone her moving forward. A prospect that was unappealing. And pointless.

The earl's footman, the one she knew, cleared his throat, having approached while she had been staring at her plate. "You have correspondence, Miss Gideon."

He proffered a small tray with a single letter set out.

With acute reluctance, Audrey picked it up just as Julius appeared in the doorway.

"Aud—Miss Gideon!" he exclaimed with buoyancy.

Despite her thudding head and the dread of the letter in her hand, her spirits were lifted to see Julius. He was handsome in his purple silk, even if it was a foppish choice. Or, perhaps, she was just hungry to spend time with him.

Lud, I need to leave London.

"We are to speak this morning about"—Julius's gaze flickered over to the servant—"the situation …"

Audrey smiled, her headache relieving mildly at his presence. "Please, Lord Trafford, have you eaten?"

Julius shook his head, crossing to the sideboard. He spoke in a low voice with the servant, who departed the room and shut the door while he gathered a plate for himself.

Audrey unfolded the letter. Now that Julius was here, she wanted to learn who had written as quickly as possible. She had a friend to discuss the contents with, whatever they might be, so she did not want to waste the opportunity to have his support if it was bad news.

As soon as the letter was revealed, her eyes darted down to confirm it was from Lady Astley. Then she read the contents, her stomach clenching into a knot as her worst fears were manifested.

"That … that … that interfering shrew!" she cried out, throwing the page away from her onto the table in distress.

Julius spun around in alarm, following her gaze to the letter.

She sprang to her feet, her hands trembling with the force of her emotions. Audrey could feel herself spiraling into fear, her lungs tightening as she gasped for air, and her hopes of a quiet retreat to the village lay dashed in smithereens on the table from where Lady Astley's poisonous ink taunted her.

"What is it?" Julius demanded, setting his plate down to stride over.

"That noxious old biddy, Lady Astley, informs me she has written to the vicar in Stirling so he will know I am a scandalous baggage!"

She could not breathe. Any hopes of returning to Stirling unscathed were obliterated. She could not remain in London, but she could not return home.

Audrey buried her face in her hands, breaking into hysterical laughter. She was doomed. Her plans were destroyed. She would have to start anew somewhere she was unknown.

Was Scotland in need of healers?

Was Edinburgh far enough away?

Lawk—must she brave the seas for the New World?

How far did she have to travel to outrun the damage to her reputation?

Her laughter turned to weeping, tears gushing down her face as she sobbed in horror.

She was vaguely aware of Julius snatching up the letter to read it as she collapsed back into her chair to bury her face in her arms. Her life as she knew it was over. There was nowhere to go! She would have to start over in a new country!

"Audrey!"

She had not thought her day could get any worse. No one would accept treatment from her if she was a fallen woman. No one respectable, that was. She would face lewd suggestions from uncouth men. Decent women would shun her. Children would be ushered away from her presence as if she were a contagious leper. Her only choice was to find somewhere far, far away.

Her mind raced through possibilities, each seeming worse than the last.

"Cornwall?"

Would that be far enough?

"Audrey?"

She did not respond. Could not respond. Instead, she continued weeping, her shoulders heaving as her lungs fought for air. Exhausted from her sleepless night, grieving that she must part with Julius, mourning that she could not talk with her dear papa. She wanted to be brave, but the ground was collapsing beneath her feet.

"Audrey!" Julius tugged at her arm. "You must calm down! I have a solution, I swear it!"

Audrey attempted to calm herself from the blind panic. The tears slowed down as she sucked air into her lungs until she finally raised her face to look at him.

Julius was kneeling beside her.

"We are to wed," he announced, taking her hand up in his.

Audrey stopped breathing, staring at him in shock. Hope trickled in as she took in the sincerity of his expression. Did Julius feel about her the way she did about him? Was he professing his regard?

"You can return to Stirling to treat patients as a married woman," he continued.

She frowned, confused by the declaration.

"It will be a … marriage of convenience. You will have the protection of my name so you can pursue your goals."

The fledgling hopes that had just begun to gather scattered like leaves in a sharp gust of wind. Audrey slumped back in her chair in numb despair. She supposed it was a resolution but, just for a moment, she had thought that maybe he was inviting her to be his partner. Perhaps all along she had hoped he would fall in love with her, but dared not think about it lest she raised her hopes. The unsuspected disappointment was ashes threatening to choke her.

Lud, it was a mistake to not discuss this last night.

If she had, perhaps she could have kept her wits about her instead of having the man she loved witness this mortifying display of emotion. This was not the pragmatic character she strived for as a practitioner of medicine.

Audrey swallowed hard, dabbing her face with a napkin from the table, pausing until she was sure her words would be steady.

"So … not a real marriage?"

"That is correct."

Julius knew he was an awful cad, but he had resolved to make his offer thus, so he was going to stick to his decision. He could not offer more. Marriage was the death of regard. It trapped wonderful people like his mother in a cage. It made children miserable and turned fathers into distant strangers.

He would not become his father. He would not make Audrey despise him. They would wed, then remain apart. Once she was settled in Stirling, pursuing her dreams as a healer, Julius could recover his peace of mind.

"So we are to wed and … what? You will remain in London?"

Julius did not like the dull quality of Audrey's sweet voice. It made him feel like a dog. But he was one for not settling this with her the previous night. The sight of her devastation brought on by Lady Astley's foul attack had wrenched his very heart from his chest. He had, in fact, found himself examining his ribs as if to seek confirmation that they were yet intact and pressing around his sutures to ensure they, too, were still in place.

"Yes. You will be free to follow your dreams. I venture that being a married woman will make it easier to be accepted by the villagers as a healer."

Audrey's face was grim, her silver eyes clouded as she stared at him. Julius felt terribly uncomfortable.

"I do not wish to inconvenience you so. It is not your responsibility," she finally replied.

Laying her hand back onto the table, he rose to his feet. "I have no plans to marry, so this is not a hardship, I assure you. You can continue your life the way you had planned."

She did not appear to be convinced, her face remaining set in unhappy lines. He tried to think what to say, but she beat him to it.

"Julius, it is unnecessary. My father left me an income. I shall leave England. Perhaps I can move to Paris, even make up a dead husband."

Paris? What was with the women in his life? What was their obsession with living in France! It was a conspiracy to keep him at bay, as if they somehow knew he could not tolerate the vigors of sea travel and it was their assurance they need never tolerate his presence again.

"No!" Hearing his terse tone, Julius grimaced. He was considered charming, unflappable even. Since setting off with Audrey last week, he appeared to have misplaced his very character. "I wish to do this. As a married woman, you will have your independence. You shall never want for funds. As my wife, you will be a future countess. None dare disrespect you. Even vile Lady Astley will be forced to retract her claims to the vicar when word is out that we are wed. I … want to do this, Audrey."

Audrey turned away to contemplate her fingernails. "So you wish to wed me … but you do not wish to be my husband."

Gadzooks, that sounds terrible!

But it was true. He was a childish clot who resisted maturity. Any of his friends would concur without hesitation.

"Yes."

Audrey flexed her jaw as if she had been punched. But, even if it was difficult, Julius was determined to be forthright. He liked Audrey far too much to manipulate her.

"What of … bedding? Do you plan to … bed other women?"

It seemed unlikely, considering he could not stop thinking of her in his bed, but … "I do not know. I would discuss it with you if I wish to alter the terms of our agreement."

Audrey's face grew grimmer.

"The … terms of our agreement." She stated it out loud, as if exploring the words.

Julius grew nervous. She was going to turn him down. For some reason he could not quite name, it was imperative she agree to the marriage. The notion of her leaving England to get away from the scandal was inconceivable. It was—he sought for a reason—his duty to protect her. She would be safer if she remained here, he reasoned. Her goals would be attainable. She could pursue her dreams and remain in the village where she had been born, surrounded by friends who admired her and her father. Lord Snarling could keep her under his protection, so no harm would ever befall her. Travel was rife with risks.

Therefore, he had to persuade her that this was her best option. He had the sense that she was going to refuse him, and he found himself rather invested in the outcome because … because … What explanation could there be? Because she had saved his life and it was his duty to keep her safe?

"Perhaps … a babe would be possible?"

Audrey's face softened at the suggestion. Julius twisted his signet ring, trying to think what to say next to clinch the deal. He was not quite sure what he wanted from Audrey, and he needed some time and distance from her to sort it out, but it was essential that she be near when he was ready to address this in a more permanent manner. If she left, he would not have that opportunity to do so, and he was sure it would cause regrets. And what of the terrible guilt if he was responsible for her being chased from the only home she had ever known?

"I shall escort you to Stirling, and we will ensure that there is a babe." It was all he could think to say. He waited, hoping she would accept those terms.

A babe? How do I feel about that?

That was an impossible question to answer, because he had never considered it. He was to never marry, ergo there was never to be issue to consider.

Issue?

Julius curled his lips in disgust. He had been reading far too much of Debrett's if he was referring to children as issue. It was more of that ghastly appropriate language that polite society subscribed to. This was precisely the type of maturing he was attempting to avoid by remaining unmarried, yet here he was applying himself to the persuasion of a woman to marry him.

Audrey was deep in thought, nibbling on that plump lower lip she loved to abuse, until she exhaled. "I shall accept those terms, but I do not agree to you parading around London with your paramours without my approval. You will inform me if the terms are to change. If they do … I shall not want to see you again. If you find the need to pursue other women, I will raise our child without your interference and you will remain far from Stirling."

Julius's relief was profound, another oddity to be set aside and considered when a clearer head prevailed. He was aware of the despicable nature of his proposal, but he could not reconcile his long-held goal of avoiding marriage with his desire to take care of Audrey.

Perhaps it would become clearer over time. He hoped so. This was a temporary reprieve at best because the entire situation was causing him acute discomfort. The one thing he was certain of was that Audrey must be protected … and she must remain close to hand.

"What do I do about … this?" She gestured to the letter as if it were a snake poised to sink its fangs into her.

"Brendan has asked the duke to organize a special license. We should be married before the week is out, at which time I will ensure that announcements are made in the news sheets. As for Lady Astley … ignore her. We remain here with the guards while the matter with Scott is determined, and then we leave for Stirling. I shall visit your vicar to address his concerns."

"As you wish," she replied, but Julius found he did not like their current terseness. He wished he had spoken with her before leaving Aunty Gertrude's. Audrey was unhappy, it was plain to see, and he hated he could not offer her something more. She deserved to have a husband at her side, but the idea of settling down and over time turning into his father left him cold.

Perhaps when they were wed, he could find a better resolution to all this, but each time he tried to solve it, his emotions grew tumultuous and murky.

It did not help that he had been stabbed, lost his wits to a fever, and had yet a murder to finish solving.

Julius almost wished that Lord Snarling would return, so he might argue with his father over the specifics. That was sure to rouse him from his muddled thoughts and settle his mind on how he wished to continue with Audrey. Quarreling with his father about appropriate behavior had always been something of a palate cleanser that had helped clarify his position on the argument at hand.

Failing that, he would have discussed the problem with his excellent new chum, who had been assisting him. Audrey was a remarkably fine partner to have along—more in tune with him than any of his male friends had ever been. It was the first time he had spent such a considerable time with one person without the desire to brain them. Nay, he wished to do altogether other things with his sweet Audrey.

Unfortunately, his current problem was the selfsame chum. Bedding her had been a terrible idea, muddying his thoughts in the worst way. If he had been uncertain of what he wanted to do about Audrey, it was far more perplexing since sharing a passionate night with her in the sheets. How was he to seek perspective when he kept recalling how warm and soft she had been beneath him, or how her moans of desire had thrilled him to hitherto unknown heights of sensual pleasure?

The lines between obligation for his part in her ruin, and genuine regard for her as a person, were blurred into an amorphous muddle.

Nevertheless, Julius reflected, it was a heady relief that she had agreed to their wedding. What he was certain of was that Audrey must not disappear. Or cross the Channel to France. He was very much afraid if she did, he would be forced to follow her, and the thought of standing on deck as it swayed back and forth made bile rise in his throat. Returning from his Grand Tour had been a terrible ordeal, and he had no plans to leave their little island again. Which was why Audrey must stay.