The Devereaux Affair by Adele Clee
Chapter 11
“Areyou going to tell me what happened with the marquess, or will you stare at the ceiling until your meeting with Mr Daventry? You’ve been abed since you crept into our chamber just after dawn, and Miss Trimble isn’t of a mind to pry.”
Julianna glanced at Rachel Gambit, who sat perched on her own bed in the room they shared in Howland Street. Sunlight caught her golden hair, and she looked like an angel come to relieve sinners of their burdens.
“If I speak I shall cry and I doubt you want me blubbering on your shoulder.”
“Was it as you feared? Has the darling boy grown into an obnoxious oaf? Did he put paid to all those glorious memories?”
A rush of emotion brought tears to Julianna’s eyes. “No. It was quite the opposite.”
Their connection was as strong now as it had always been. And while the year she’d spent at Witherdeen had sustained her in the interim, the memory of making love to Bennet Devereaux would nourish her until the end of her days.
“I see.” Rachel’s tone carried the weight of the problem. “Your love for the boy has become a fondness for the man.”
More than a fondness, she feared.
Rachel huffed. “I sometimes wonder if Mr Daventry is a devil in disguise. To send you there, knowing what happened all those years ago. It’s tantamount to cruelty.”
Julianna could not think ill of the man who had rescued her from the gutter. She didn’t dare contemplate where she might be if Mr Daventry hadn’t offered a helping hand.
“I believe it was an education in fortitude.” And by God, she’d been tested to the limit. “We’ll need emotional strength if we’re to tackle cases objectively.”
“Mine must be an education in patience.”
“Has Mr Daventry not given you an assignment?”
“None of us have an assignment. That’s what I find so baffling. Mr Daventry is so cautious, yet threw you to the lions and hoped you’d return unscathed.”
She had come close to being brutally savaged.
Had returned with a few battle scars.
Julianna recalled something Bennet had said. “The marquess swore to protect me. I believe that’s why Mr Daventry gave me the case.”
Rachel arched a curious brow. “And yet something went terribly wrong. Why else would you spend hours crying into your pillow?”
Because they had crossed a line. How could she be friends with a man who roused her passions? How could she ever look at him again without recalling how he moved deep inside her? By now, she should be used to pain, but that would be pure torture.
“You may have to share this room with someone else soon.” Julianna’s heart grew heavy at the prospect of making her own way in the world. “Today, I must tell Mr Daventry I cannot work on Bennet Devereaux’s case.”
“What? No!” Rachel shot to her feet and deposited herself on Julianna’s bed. “Cursed saints! Why? Are you in love with him?”
Julianna sat bolt upright. “Hush. You’ll alert Miss Trimble. No, I’m not in love with him.” She cared about him in ways she couldn’t explain, and always would. “Let’s just say my mother would be proud of the way I behaved. After all, he is paying me a substantial fee.”
Recognition dawned. Rachel was no fool. Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew as round as saucers. “What was it like?”
“Rachel!”
“Sorry. I’m curious that’s all.”
“Promise me you won’t breath a word about it to anyone. Promise me, Rachel. Please.”
Her friend crossed her heart. “I know you find it hard to trust people, but you can trust me, Julianna.” She fell silent for a moment. “All the gentlemen of the Order married the ladies they worked with on cases. Mr Daventry must have sprinkled love potions into their tea. Maybe he has some for Bennet Devereaux.”
Love potions? Rachel rarely suffered moments of fancy.
“There’s more chance of Mr Sloane cutting his hair than me marrying a marquess.” If only Bennet were a simple man without wealth and title. “And you know how the agent loves his pirate locks.”
Rachel laughed, but then her expression grew serious. “Could you not work on the case without returning to Witherdeen? Tell me what evidence you have so far and I might be able to help.”
Julianna explained all that had happened during the two days spent at Bennet’s estate, including the terrifying incident with Mr Granger.
“The blasted scoundrel!” Rachel gritted her teeth. “And I don’t care if Miss Trimble hears me cursing. He lives in Brighton, you say? Perhaps a brief trip to the coast is in order. You do realise Mr Daventry will skin him alive.”
“Trust me, I have every intention of punishing the cretin.” He’d just caught her by surprise, and her fragile emotions had left her weak.
“I don’t suppose the marquess will let the matter rest, either.” Rachel clapped her hands. “Back to the case. If it were me, I would visit Miss Winters and accuse her of sending the handbills. She has motive and opportunity.”
“Does she have a motive? Do courtesans not expect their lovers to marry, eventually?” And her threats would not deter Bennet from doing his duty.
Still, Julianna should have checked the trunks in the attic before leaving Witherdeen. She should have visited the innkeeper to enquire if Miss Winters had made other secret visits to Bramley.
“Perhaps Miss Winters is unbalanced.”
“She does strike me as the vindictive sort.”
“You see.” Rachel gave Julianna a reassuring tap on the leg. “Focus on discovering if Miss Winters is guilty of threatening the marquess. I assume she returned to town.”
Julianna silently groaned. The fact she hadn’t stayed at Witherdeen long enough to find out proved she lacked the skills required of an enquiry agent.
Rachel must have read Julianna’s strained expression. “Never mind. Mr Daventry will know where the woman lives.”
The thought of meeting Mr Daventry in Hart Street made her shudder. He would think her completely incompetent. When life threw obstacles in one’s path a de Lacy always bolted. Having spent a lifetime fleeing problems and misfortunes, perhaps it was time to stop and tackle what lay ahead.
She had no issue hammering on Miss Winters’ door and demanding answers. But how would she fare when she saw Bennet Devereaux again? How would she ever feel whole when he owned a piece of her heart?
