Page 55 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
Julia’s treacherouslips pinched into a thin line as she shook her head. ‘I do not give other people’s confidences, chaw-bacon. But I will say that your brother loved another and I released him from an engagement that he did not desire. Therefore, you had no right threatening to sue my family for breach of promise. And because of you, I was cast off by my father and forced to become a governess for the meanest woman in the world.’
‘And my brother and my family’s name has been dragged through the dirt. I lost clients because of it.’
‘Perhaps you belong in the dirt, hedge-bird,’ Julia retorted. ‘But I am no simpleton, so I shall start the fire and then we may change out of our wet clothes so that we do not catch our deaths!’
Pivoting on her foot, Julia turned to the cold hearth and took off her damp gloves. She wasn’t precisely certain whatchaw-baconmeant orhedge-birdfor that matter. But she’d heard Mrs Heap’s grooms insult each other with those phrases. Andbasket-scramblerhad something to do with charity. It was one of Mrs Heap’s favourite things to say about her acquaintances.
Julia took a deep breath. Most governesses did not start fires. That was the job of a footman. But thanks to Mrs Heap, there was no position in the entire household that Julia had not had the ostensible pleasure of learning. She put the tinder into the fireplace and then struck the flint until the sparks caught fire. She blew a little to help the flame grow and once the tinder was all alight, Julia added the wood that was next to the hearth in a log-cabin pattern. She opened the flue before standing up, something she should have done from the very start, but Devin irritated her so much that she’d forgotten. At least she’d caught her mistake before their room had been filled with smoke.
While she was making the fire, Devin must have put her trunk on the opposite side of the room from his. Julia was half tempted to insist that he leave while she changed her dress, but it would only cause suspicion from the other passengers. For why would a husband not get into dry clothing before getting a drink? And why would he need to leave his wife alone to dress? But perhaps the biggest reason that she did not ask him to leave was that she felt more secure in his company than by herself. At least she knew him, or of him, and while he was awful, he did not appear immoral. The other passengers were all complete strangers and criminals.
Julia cleared her throat to get Devin’s attention. ‘I am going to take off my wet things. I will look at the door and you may look toward the window, and therefore we won’t see anything untoward.’
He smirked at her. ‘Perhaps my brother made a narrow escape if your body is untoward-looking.’
Clenching her teeth, Julia was cold, wet and irritable. She was not about to rise to Devin’s bait, even if every bit of her wished to put him in his place. ‘Yes, he did. Now I am going to turn around and for the sake of your ramshackle eyes, you should as well.’
Spinning on her foot once again, Julia felt for a brief moment like she was dancing. Her lips twitched into a small smile. How she had loved dancing and parties in London. But in her last three years living in Town she had not attended any parties. It was hard not to feel resentment towards the entire Ballantine family. If only Joshua hadn’t allowed his mother to push him into an engagement that he did not wish for. If only Devin knew that Joshua had been relieved when Julia ended their betrothal rather than threatening legal action. If only her father had not decided to punish her by making her serve as a governess to the most unpleasant woman in the world. If only she could have explained to her stepmother the real reason she had called off the engagement.
In the last three years, Julia had discovered that lingering onif-onlys was a waste of time. They did not change her current situation and she was currently shivering from the cold. Without glancing over her shoulder, Julia took off her bonnet, scarf and coat. Instinctively, she sidled closer to the heat of the fire. Then she sat down on her trunk and took off her wet boots and sodden stockings. Her toes were shrivelled like an old woman’s. She would have been embarrassed in anyone else’s company, but she did not care what Dreadful Devin thought of her. And besides, he wasn’t looking.
Getting back to her feet, she carefully slid her damp dress over her head. It was her warmest garment and she did not want to wrinkle or dirty it. She carefully laid it out on the bed and caught an eyeful of Devin—his body certainly was not dreadful. His shoulders were broad and she’d never seen a man without his shirt on. Julia’s entire body seemed to tighten at the sight and her breasts felt strangely tender. She forced herself to turn back to the door and she carefully pulled off her stays until all she had on was a chemise that barely reached her knees. It was damp too, but she felt far too vulnerable to be naked for even a moment with a man in the room. Even a man who hated her. But then a shiver ran through her entire body, and Julia decided that being dry was more important than her modesty. She opened her trunk and took out another chemise. With a deep breath, she lifted the damp chemise over her head and then traded it as quickly as she could for the dry one. She could not put on her stays, for they were wet, so she grabbed the drab governess gown on top of the pile in her trunk and pulled it on.
Devin stooped to pick up his dry shirt and noticed Julia’s reflection in the window. She was in only a thin chemise with her figure underneath illuminated by the light of the fire. Her legs were long and luscious, her bottom was heart-shaped, and the flare of her hips seemed to be in perfect balance with the side angle of the swell of her breasts. She looked younger and softer, probably because he wasn’t seeing her shrewish face. It was hidden by her hair that had half fallen out of her chignon.
He nearly swallowed his own tongue when she took off the chemise and he saw the back of her glorious body naked.
It was only for a second, for she put on a dry shift and then her gown. But it was enough for the image to be seared in his mind. Devin needed to get out of this room and fast. Silently turning from her, he put on a new shirt and buttoned it up, before taking off his damp breeches and putting on a new pair of smalls then pantaloons—which were uncomfortably tight. He tucked his shirt into his breeches and put on a waistcoat and coat; for even with the fire, the room had a chill in it. He then rifled through his trunk and pulled out a pair of stockings and dry shoes.
Devin closed the lid with a loud snap and then went to the door. He meant to leave without a backwards glance at her. But his eyes involuntarily found her sitting by the fire with her honey hair completely down and her delicate hands outstretched. Such an image felt too intimate for a stranger to see. Particularly one who hated her and desired her in equal measure. He needed to leave before he forgot the damage that she’d done to his family’s name and his own career. She was too damned tempting.
‘I’m going down to the tap for a drink and to check on those two men,’ he said and slammed the door behind him.
Leaning his back against the door, he took a few deep breaths before walking down the dark, narrow hall. He heard voices in the last room—the one with the shifty men. Devin paused and listened at their door.
‘Everything is going wrong, Pip!’
‘Hold your counsel, Angus. No one suspects any havey-cavey business and let’s keep it that way while we’re here.’
‘We shouldn’t be here. We’re like sitting ducks for a pair of Bow Street Runners.’
Devin held his breath, waiting for the partner’s answer.
‘If the mail coach is stuck, no runner is going to make it through that storm. Just hold your counsel and make civil whiskers. The other passengers will be none the wiser.’
‘But what if—’
‘No morewhat-ifs, Angus. Keep your mutton mouth closed and we will brush through just fine. No one is going to look through our things.’
‘And if they do?’
‘We’ll say that flash-cove Ballantine planted the goods here.’
Devin startled at the sound of his name and decided that he had lingered too long at their door. As quietly as he could, he descended the creaky stairs and was surprised not to see Mr Peebles at the tap. Curiously, he went back to the door where the man had come out earlier and found it ajar. Pushing it open, Devin saw that the man was alone in the kitchen and appeared to be attempting to cook, but the smell emanating from the pots on the stove would not have tempted a starving pig.
Mr Peebles glanced up at Devin. ‘What do you need, Mr Ballantine?’
‘Where is your wife, Mr Peebles?’
