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‘Very well.’ Will looked resigned to business. ‘I will not take long, I promise, then we can resume our interrupted sightseeing. Ask them to come up, if you please, Nancy.’
It would be the banker, or perhaps the lawyer, Julia thought, finding a clean cup and saucer from the tray for the visitor. After all, they knew no one else in town.
The door opened as she bent over the coffee jug to make sure there was enough. ‘Mr and Mrs Prior,’ Nancy announced.
For a moment she thought she was imagining things. Julia looked up and found herself staring into the face of Cousin Arthur and, beside him, smiling smugly, Cousin Jane.
She was going mad, seeing visions. Julia clutched the edge of the table and was dimly aware of the sound of falling china.
‘Good morning, Cousin Julia,’ Arthur said. ‘What a relief to find you well and safe. You can imagine the worry we have been in, you wicked girl. What a terrible, terrible thing to have done! And now what are we to do?’
‘And who the blazes are you?’ Will demanded as Julia’s knees gave way and she fell back onto her chair.
It had not been an ha
llucination yesterday. She had seen them and they had seen her and somehow discovered where she was.
‘Lord Dereham, I presume?’ Arthur advanced with an outstretched hand that Will completely ignored. ‘I must make allowances for your natural agitation, I can tell. I am Arthur Prior, Julia’s cousin, and this is my wife, Mrs Prior. I cannot begin to describe to you the anguish we have experienced since Julia ran away three years ago! To see her yesterday from the window of our lodgings was such a shock I hardly know how we had the presence of mind to send the lad to follow the hackney carriage and establish where she had gone.’
Will turned on his heel to face her. ‘Is this the cousin who inherited your father’s estate? The one who laid violent hands upon you?’
‘Yes, he is my father’s heir. But he never—’
‘Violence! Is that what the wicked girl is saying?’ Jane reeled back into the nearest chair and fanned herself with a napkin. ‘Nothing but kindness she received from our hands. And how did she repay us? By running off with my uncle’s stepson, despite being told what a wicked rake he was. The poor, poor boy.’ She glowered at Julia who stared back, unable to form a coherent sentence.
‘But it seems as though she’s fallen on her feet here, has she not, Mrs Prior?’ Arthur demanded with a rhetorical flourish.
‘Before you go any further,’ Will said in a voice that somehow managed to convey a threat of violence under a coating of ice, ‘I should tell you that I am perfectly aware of my wife’s elopement and of the reasons behind it. I can see no purpose in this call—she most certainly does not wish to receive you, now or in the future. Good day to you.’
‘Not so fast, my lord.’ To do him credit, Cousin Arthur was standing his ground against a man who Julia hardly recognised. Will looked bigger, angrier and more frightening than she had ever imagined he might. She struggled to find words, but she had no idea what to say, what to do in the face of this utter disaster. ‘We have been to a lot of trouble and expense trying to find Julia and I consider you would be doing only the right thing if you were to recompense us for that. And our silence of course.’
‘Your silence?’ Will enquired dangerously. ‘About what, exactly?’
‘I cannot imagine you would want the truth about Lady Dereham to become common knowledge, would you? You might be able to gloss over the elopement, I suppose. But the violence?’ He smiled slyly. ‘I’ll not pretend Jonathan Dalfield was anything but a sinner, but did he deserve such treatment? His poor head…’
Julia found her voice and the strength to stand. ‘I never meant to kill him,’ she said. ‘Never. He was trying to rape me. It was an accident. I did not realise the poker was in my hand.’
The room went utterly quiet. Will turned slowly to face her, his eyes wide and dark with shock. ‘You killed a man?’
‘You did not know, my lord?’ Arthur interjected. He was white and flustered, but he gabbled on. ‘Of course, I should have realised you’d never keep such a thing quiet, not a gentleman like you. But it won’t look good for you if it all comes out, now will it, my lord? Many will not believe you. And it puts us at great risk, always has. But you could be assured of our silence, my lord. We would be very reasonable. Five thousand pounds and no one would ever know and you would never hear from us again.’
Without taking his eyes from her face, Will said, ‘You despicable, blackmailing worm.’
‘Hard words don’t break my bones, my lord.’ Arthur had recovered some of his poise. ‘But a hempen noose will snap your wife’s neck if we aren’t all very careful. And it wouldn’t look good for you, would it? Accessory after the fact, they call it. I’m no lawyer, but I think that’s a capital offence as well, my lord.’
‘Julia, go to the other room,’ Will said, his voice as soft as if he invited her to sleep with him. Beneath it she could hear the anger beating like a tocsin, his eyes blazed gold, and the skin was tight over his cheekbones as though he was a wolf with its hackles laid back.
Without a word she got up and went into the bedchamber. Now the worst had happened she felt strangely calm. It was shock—she recognised it from when she had killed Jonathan and it was strange to be able to diagnose it now as though she was an observer examining herself at arm’s length.
What would Will do? Pay what Arthur demanded? But they would never be safe either from betrayal or from more and more bloodsucking demands. Will was a law-abiding English gentleman: his duty was to hand her over to the authorities, whatever the damage to himself. It was not even as though he loved her, she thought bleakly, sinking on to the edge of the bed to await his judgement. She should not put him in this position, make him decide what to do. She should walk out of here, surrender herself.
There was a door in the far corner of the dressing room concealed by a screen. It gave on to the service stairs and Nancy used it to bring hot water and to take away the slops. She could use that route, ask at the desk for the nearest magistrates’ court and be there before Will realised what she was doing.
It all seemed very simple and easy now there was no choice. The important thing was not to think about what would happen afterwards.
The sound of voices from next door ceased. The outer door closed. Silence. Julia got to her feet and found her reticule. Her cloak and bonnet were on the chair. She should just—
The bedchamber door opened and Will stood there, framed in the opening. He looked, she realised with a twisting pang of guilt and shame, as though someone had dealt him a mortal blow and he had not yet realised it. ‘I knew you were keeping a secret from me,’ he said, his voice as steady as a judge. ‘I should have listened to my instincts.’
