Julius’s gut clenched. That was something he’d never had to experience. He’d always known he had people to count on. His father had left no stone unturned trying to negotiate his release. His friends had exhausted the more disreputable avenues. Julius had come to believe they’d never succeed in their efforts, but he never stopped believing that they’d keep trying to save him. Eventually it had been a combination of his father’s efforts, his friends’ manipulations, and Julius’s own escape efforts that had secured his release.
“You will not hang.” Julius stepped close and gripped the man’s shoulders. “I will make sure of it.” He’d already saved one person from the Tyburn Tree. He could save another if it came to it. But it wouldn’t. Liverpool owed him, and Julius was all too ready to collect.
Audley gave him a weak smile. “I almost believe you.”
“As well you should.” Julius clapped him on the back and turned. Audley fell into step beside him. They gathered their coats and hats and stepped out into the brisk night air.
The bell was tolling midnight, and Julius looked across the street at St. Katherine’s church. A candle flickered high in the tower. Julius shivered, thinking of the narrow staircase the ringer had to climb to reach his perch. Poor bastard.
Julius tugged on a glove. “When I have further information, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I wish to speak with your grooms.”
Audley nodded. He raised his voice to be heard above the echoing bells and the wheels of several carriages rattling over cobblestone. “I’ll tell them to expect you.” He stepped to the edge of the curb and waved to his driver parked down the street. The servant nodded and slapped the backs of the horses with the reins.
Audley never saw the man who stole up behind him and shoved him into the street.
A driver yelled. Horses squealed. And the terrible sound of a wheel striking flesh cut through the air.
Julius’s core turned to ice. He stumbled to the street. The lad’s servant pushed past him, knocking him aside. The driver dropped to his knees by Audley’s twisted legs and screamed for a doctor.
A middle-aged man in a long black cloak with a patch on the right shoulder hurried away. Julius changed direction and shot after him, struggling against the crowd flocking to the accident like vultures to a carcass. By the time he reached the corner, the man had disappeared.
Jaw clenched tight, Julius pushed back to Audley. Or what was left of him. Even in the dim light, he could tell the boy was dead. Getting trampled by horses and run over by a carriage would do that to a person.
His body began to shake with rage. Audley had been intentionally pushed, of that there was no doubt. Julius’s grand idea of speaking to the lad in the open had been foolish, and had gotten Audley killed. He swallowed, the back of his throat burning.
He’d promised the man that he wouldn’t hang.
He should have promised to keep him alive.
Chapter Seven
Reggie whimpered beneath Amanda’s hand, and she stilled. The dog had been listless all night and now lay, mewling in pain,on her sister’s settee in the morning room. She didn’t know what to do.Lady Mary had yet to rise. Julius had been avoiding her the past couple of days, and last night he hadn’t bothered to come home. And when she’d asked Carter if he knew anything of canine health, he’d merely curled his lip and turned away.
She couldn’t let anything happen to Reggie. Liz would be devastated. The dog had been a gift from her husband when he was just a pup. Although only a member of the family for a couple months, Reggie had wagged his way into everyone’s hearts, Amanda’s included. With Liz gone, the dog was the only one who was always there for her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Nothing could happen to him.
Holding a bowl to his nose, she rubbed a finger gently between his eyes. “How about some cream, boy?”
Reggie closed his eyes and sighed.
Setting the bowl down on the floor, she stood and hurried to the escritoire. When Reggie had first moved into the duke’s London house, he’d burned a paw by standing against an oven door. Liz had found an animal doctor in Chelsea who’d made house calls. She found her sister’s journal of household accounts, relieved that Liz still maintained her own records instead of relying solely on her servants. She found the entry and noted the doctor’s address. Pulling a sheet of paper out of the drawer, she sat at the small desk and wrote a hasty note asking for his immediate services. When she came to the end, she hesitated over her signature.
A request from Miss Amanda Wilcox would receive no response. She was tempted to write her sister’s name, but most everyone knew the duke and his new duchess were abroad. Would a note from a member of his staff draw an immediate response? Reggie might not have time to wait.
But if Amanda stood on the man’s front step and refused to leave until he agreed to see Reggie, that might do the trick. Her heart pounded at the thought of stepping out of doors. Reggie whined again, and Amanda closed her eyes. She could do this.
Resolved, she folded the note and tucked it up her sleeve. She raced upstairs for her pelisse, grateful that the covering would hide the state of her gown. Without a maid, or Julius, to help her dress, she made a poor showing of it. No stays, and buttons down her back that had found the wrong hole. The doctor would have every right to close the door in her face. If she let him.
She swept down the staircase and rushed for the front door, barely allowing the footman seated beside it time to jump up and open it for her.
The sun’s rays dropped on her like a shroud, and she froze at the threshold. She raised a hand to shade her eyes. The half-circle driveway was empty, quiet. A wall stood between the drive and the street, but muted sounds of life could be heard on the other side. Heart pounding, Amanda took a step forward. A group of men stamped along the sidewalk, crossing the entrance to the driveway. They didn’t spare her a glance. Amanda looked over her shoulder. The door stood open, inviting. But Reggie was sick. She faced front. Three steps lay before her and the driveway. All she needed to do was climb down the porch and walk to the street.
She took another half-step, the toes of her slippers peeking over the edge of the top stair.
Her heart pounded so hard she could feel her blood pulsing beneath the skin at her temples. She could do this. She’d been outside before, plenty of times. Granted, not since her imprisonment. But nothing had changed. She just had to put one foot in front of the other and she’d make her way to the animal doctor.
She lifted her foot, put it back down. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she fought to keep back a whimper. There was too much space. Too many directions from which someone could hurt her. Head spinning, she fell back and bumped into a soft body.
“My dear, are we going somewhere?” Lady Mary cupped Amanda’s elbow. Faded blue eyes looked out at her from beneath a fringe of white hair. “I would quite like to visit my milliner.” She cocked a critical eye at Amanda. “But you aren’t wearing a hat. Nor gloves. Your poor skin will burn.”
