Page 164 of The Belle of Belgrave Square

Sad. Yes, she had, hadn’t she?

She’d parted from the children yesterday morning with all due care, hugging each of them in turn and asking them to be on their best behavior in her absence.

“Be good for your father,” she’d said. “And for Mr. Beecham. And mind you be careful when you’re swimming and riding. I couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to you.”

A lump formed in Jasper’s throat to recall it.

She’d had no such exhortations for him. Holding his hand as he’d assisted her into the carriage, she’d bidden him goodbye with the same level of formality she might use when taking leave of an acquaintance at a house party.

He’d borne it because he had to. Because he deserved it. She wasn’t being cruel; she was protecting herself from being hurt by him.

Time was what she’d asked for, and time is what he’d given her. But perhaps Charlie was right. Too much time could be a detriment.

“You should go and fetch her home,” Charlie said.

Jasper heaved another sigh. “Charlie—”

“Daisy misses her. She wants her to come back.”

A brief smile edged Jasper’s mouth. “Only Daisy?”

Charlie glowered, refusing to admit to any vulnerability.

But Jasper knew it was there—the soft, secret part of him that Julia had touched with her kindness.

“It isn’t unmanly to admit you want her back,” Jasper said. “That you’ve grown fond of her.”

“I don’t need her,” Charlie replied. “I’m not a baby like Daisy and Alfred.”

Jasper set a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Of course you need her. We all do. Me most of all.” He squeezed gently before releasing him. “I trust you’ll help Beecham look after your brother and sister while I’m gone.”

Charlie’s head jerked up. “You’re going after her?”

Jasper collected his coat from the back of the chair. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I am.”

Thirty-Seven

Julia stared up at the imposing facade of her parents’ house in Belgrave Square. It had been less than a month since Jasper had carried her out in his arms. Only a few weeks spent in the country, living as his wife, and stepmother to his children. Not much time, really, and yet . . .

It had altered her completely.

A shimmer of anxiety still fizzed in her veins, but it didn’t overpower her. Alone on the front step, she raised her hand and knocked firmly on the door.

It was opened by a footman she didn’t recognize. Jenkins Five, presumably, hired to take the place of Jenkins Four.

His gaze flitted over her. “Madam?”

She smoothed her hands over her lobelia blue silk carriage dress. Thanks to Anne’s maid, Jeanette, it was freshly sponged and pressed. Jeanette had seen to all Julia’s gowns on their final day in Yorkshire. It was a reminder of how invaluable a trained lady’s maid could be.

Julia was resolved to hire a new one for herself while in London. Perhaps, when visiting the employment agency, she could inquire about a governess for Daisy, and a tutor for the boys.

First, however, she had to regain control of her fortune.

“Please inform Sir Eustace and Lady Wychwood that Mrs. Blunt is here to see them,” she said.

The footman betrayed a flash of recognition at the name. No doubt he’d heard of her elopement. For all that Papa abhorred gossip, there was no way to stamp it out completely.

“Mrs. Blunt.” He bowed. “This way if you please.”