Page 51 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
THE CHRISTMAS HUSBAND
CHARADE
Samantha Hastings
For Jennie Ferguson
Chapter One
23 December
The draught of cold air that entered the mail coach caused a shiver to run down the honourable Miss Julia Sullivan’s spine and the hairs to stand up on the back of her neck. At the same time, she was both frozen and entirely aware of the handsome gentleman who was the last passenger to enter the carriage in London. His beaver hat gleamed and his burgundy coat had three capes on it. His golden hair peeked out from underneath his hat and his white smile would have stood out in even the most crowded ballroom.
Not that Julia had been in a ballroom for the last three years. Not since she had jilted a very eligible baron at the altar.
No. Her father had forced her to become a governess to teach her a lesson in humility and filial obedience. Overnight Julia had gone from a beautiful sought after débutante to the governess drudge of the most unpleasant woman in all of England. Mrs Heap loved toheapJulia with tasks that should have been done by the housekeeper or a housemaid. But since Julia depended upon that woman for her bread, she had not been able to tell her no. The little Heaps had also given her plenty to do. Nor did Julia ever manage to teachthemobedience, but she was excessively fond of the children. And she did teach them writing, reading and arithmetic; and while the little Heaps rarely did what she asked them to do the first time (it was usually the fifth or sixth time), they were carelessly fond of her. Which made her miss her much younger half-sister Amelia even more.
Julia let out a long and loud sigh—one that exhaled all of her frustration and grief over three years of drudgery. She’d been called back home for a second chance—that was what her father had written. In his brusque, businesslike writing, he had failed to mention what the ‘second chance’ was for. But if he thought he could bully her again into a marriage not of her choosing, he would soon learn that her resolve had only grown through her struggles. And that she’d carefully kept every coin that she’d earned, and although it was not enough to live on indefinitely, Julia could support herself long enough to find a new position.
On the opposite seat, she noticed two rough-looking men staring at her. Their clothes were rumpled and unwashed, as were their faces. The one on the right was missing several teeth as he smiled at her in a way that made her feel quite unwell. The man on the left had a long beard which appeared to still have bits of his last meal in it. He glared at her: it was even more frightening than his companion’s smile. Julia folded her arms across her chest as if to make herself smaller. If only her father had sent a manservant to accompany her on the public coach, Julia might have felt safer. Her eyes darted to the newest traveller. She couldn’t help but be glad that the clean and handsome young gentleman had joined them in the mail coach. She felt less chary with him there.
‘Surely you are too young for such sighs, miss?’ the woman who sat next to her on the bench said. She was not much older than Julia, but she was holding a young daughter or son and was apparently about to give birth a second time at any moment. Black curls framed her heart-shaped face and one of her front teeth was rather forwarder than the other. Still, she was undeniably pretty. The woman’s husband, however, looked to be nearly twice his wife’s age and was not at all handsome. His face was gaunt and his frame appeared painfully thin. He would not provide his own family or Julia much protection on this journey. But at least the woman had someone to look after her safety.
Julia couldn’t help but wish that a man was travelling with her. Her former betrothed, Joshua, Baron Ballantine, had been handsome and thirty-six years old, compared to her scarce eighteen years of experience. The gulf between them had seemed impassable and that was before she’d seen him in the arms of another.
The woman cleared her throat and spoke again. ‘And where are you travelling to, miss?’
‘I am going home to Pickwich.’
‘So am I,’ said a deep voice.
Julia looked across the aisle to see the handsome gentleman on the other side who had filled her belly with butterflies and made her feel safe in the mail coach. His eyes were unique: one green, the other blue, and both startlingly attractive in his otherwise pale face. His lips twitched into another smile as if he realised that she was gaping at him. But it wasn’t just because of his looks. It was the eyes. She’d only seen that particular shade combination once before in her former betrothed. This man had to be his much younger brother, Devin Ballantine, who was a busy barrister in London. Julia had only met him once, three years ago—the night before the wedding when she had called it off. He was the one who had threatened to sue her family for breach of promise. Then her father had promptly disowned her.
Devin was thirteen years younger than his brother and, if the rumours that circulated around Pickwich were true, not from the same father. The younger son had golden hair, whereas Joshua’s was dark brown and looked black in certain lights. The shape of their faces and the strong lines of the jaws were the same. Julia had once fantasised about kissing Joshua’s jaw—or kissing him at all. He had never made the smallest attempt to touch her, or kiss her, while they were engaged. She had told herself that it was because he respected her too much.
She knew now that while Joshua might have respected her, he hadn’t loved her. And the small hope that their acquaintance would blossom into something more when they were married had died the moment she saw him kissing his true love.
Like a pantomime, she saw Devin’s eyes widen and his mouth open slightly as he realised why she was going to Pickwich andwhoshe was. Julia must not have made much of an impression on the young barrister the first time that they met. Not that they had ever spoken to each other. Julia had entered the dining room where both families were eating and declared that the wedding was cancelled. Joshua had followed behind her and formally released her from the contract. Pandemonium had followed. It was difficult to remember which parent had yelled more—Joshua’s mother or her father. Even her soft-spoken stepmother had been disappointed in her. And Devin had pushed for a lawsuit.
Julia watched as the surprise left his face and his mouth twisted into a look of disgust. She was the young woman who had jilted his elder brother and caused a great deal of scandal, not only in the village of Pickwich but in London Society. Devin turned his gaze out the window and Julia followed suit. She had no desire to make a scene in front of strangers. Particularly not the two frightening men who were seated next to Devin. The man with the missing teeth gave her another horrifying smile and his partner eyed her reticule like it was a Christmas pudding. Julia swallowed uncomfortably. Her former charge Felix Heap would have called thembridle culls, a fancy name for thieves.
The woman spoke again. ‘I’m Mrs Mack and my husband and daughter and I are going home to his curacy in Tiddleford.’
‘I am Miss Sullivan.’
Devin bowed his head. ‘Mr Ballantine.’
Mrs Mack turned to the two rumpled men across from her. ‘And you, sirs? What are your names and your destination?’
‘None of your business, ma’am,’ the bearded one said in a deep voice.
Mrs Mack opened her mouth as if shocked by their lack of civility. But she did not speak because her daughter woke up with a loud scream.
At first, Julia was relieved to have the attention of the other passengers on the toddler and not on herself. But when the child continued to wail and holler for the next half an hour, she couldn’t help but wish for the uncomfortable silence to return.
The girl’s parents were useless in comforting the child.
Mr Mack just kept repeating, ‘Do something, Mary.’
