‘I swear,’ Hal said, reaching to clasp his brother’s hand.
Julia’s heart sank. She could under stand, she could sympathise, but she was certain in her heart that they were wrong. Their half-Romany nemesis could be a powerful weapon on their side.
The letter had fluttered to the floor when Marcus thumped the table. Julia picked it up and slipped it into her pocket. She had promised nothing.
It was a long Sunday. They all sat around, not knowing what to do to help, yet feeling it was wrong not to be there. Julia woke the next morning to find Hal’s side of the bed un rum pled and the bed in his dressing room un touched. As she was looking at it he came in, yawning.
‘I sent Mother to bed at two,’ he explained. ‘And packed Marcus off back to Nell at the same time.’ Julia put an arm around his waist, tugging him towards the bedroom.
‘Come and undress, get into bed,’ she urged. ‘How is your father now?’
‘Better, a little. Mama is with him again.’ Hal tossed his coat aside, he seemed to have discarded his neck cloth long since. Julia began to unbutton his shirt when he made no effort to do it himself. ‘His lips aren’t so blue and he seems to be sleeping.’
‘And so should you,’ Julia said, attacking his breeches fastenings. ‘Come on, help me. And then I will get dressed and see if your mama needs me.’
By luncheon, Hal was up again and Marcus had returned with Nell. Between them, they devised a rota for sitting with the patient; Julia insisted on taking the hours between dinner and midnight. Which left her, she calculated, enough time to locate Stephan Hebden.
As everyone dispersed after the meal, she found the butler alone. ‘Wellow, whereabouts does Viscount Milden hall live?’
‘Hanover Square, ma’am.’
‘Thank you. I wish to visit Lady Mil den hall. Is one of the footmen free?’ Julia had read enough Gothic novels where the intrepid heroine plunges off into danger without so much as a note left behind her not to take precautions—like one of the Carlows’ strap ping footmen.
‘Certainly, ma’am. Richards is available. Do you require a carriage?’
‘The small town coach, if you please. I will be down in fifteen minutes.’
Julia had not become accustomed to the luxury of being able to take a carriage for distances she could easily walk, but she had no idea where she might locate Hebden, and she did not want to have to rely upon hackney carriages. Always assuming his half-sister was at home and would receive her: without her help, Julia would be at a stand still.
But she was in luck. Not only was Lady Mil den hall at home, but positively eager to receive a visit. Julia liked her on sight, with her flyaway brown hair and her candid grey eyes. She looked, Julia thought, nothing like her half-Romany brother.
She waved Julia to a chair and sank back into her own with a grimace. ‘Oh my, another four months still to go,’ she lamented, resting a hand on the swell of her very pregnant belly. Julia did some quick mental arithmetic and hid her smile behind an expression of sympathy. The Mil den halls had been married just five months: she wondered if she would begin increasing so soon and what Hal’s feelings would be if she did.
‘So, you are Hal’s new wife, Julia! He was at my wedding and my step-brother was teasing him about settling down—and here you are, married.’
‘Indeed, Lady Mil den hall. That would be Captain Bredon? I met him in Brussels and then, after the battle, he helped me find Hal. I think that saved Hal’s life.’
‘You must call me Midge,’ Lady Mil den hall said with a friendly impetuousness that Julia guessed was habitual. ‘I have been dying to meet you. I am so glad you saw Rick. Tell me, truth fully, was he badly hurt? He writes that he had just a scratch, and he is still over there and seems to be all right—but one can never tell with him.’
‘Rather more than a scratch,’ Julia admitted. ‘But nothing worse than weariness, cuts and bruises. He was walking and had the use of all his limbs when I saw him, I promise you.’
‘That is a relief.’ She blinked hard for a moment, then smiled. Julia suspected that Midge was rarely cast down for long. ‘It is good of you to come and visit.’
‘I am afraid I should have waited and called with my mother in law, or Lady Stanegate,’ Julia admitted. ‘But I need your help, you see.’
‘Oh.’ The ready smile faded. ‘What has Stephen done now?’
‘Nothing,’ Julia hastened to assure her. She was not going to tell tales of teasing encounters in book shops or the mystery of the attack on Hal. ‘I think I have found something that will convince him to halt his campaign of vengeance.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Midge closed her eyes for a moment. ‘He is not the evil man they make him out to be, you know. He has had such cruelty in his life.’ She bit her lip as though to stop herself pouring out the entire story, then smiled, a lopsided smile that suddenly made Julia see a fleeting similarity to Stephen. ‘What can I do?’
‘Help me find him. There is a letter I must show him. Is he in London?’
‘Yes. He has a house in Bloomsbury Square. Here.’ She took some paper from the table beside her, scribbled a few words. ‘There’s the number—and a note to his man to admit you—the servants defend the house like a fortress.’
I’m not surprised, Julia thought grimly. Stephen Hebden made enemies, it seemed, as easily as breathing. ‘Thank you, I do so hope this will put an end to this awful feud.’ She got to her feet.
‘But won’t you wait, take tea? Monty will be home at any moment, I do so want him to meet Hal’s wife.’