“Then I’ll go and fetch her.” Mrs. Mountjoy gave Carenza an approving smile. “I suspect she’ll be thrilled.”
Julian seated himself opposite Miss Cartwright and waited until she settled her skirts before telling his coachman to proceed. He made no effort to initiate any conversation until it dawned on him that if he didn’t speak, she’d be happy to pass the entire journey in silence.
“Mrs. Mountjoy is an estimable woman,” he said.
“Yes, indeed.”
“I remember her husband very well.”
She nodded and continued to look out the window, her hands clasped tightly together on her lap.
“I do so admire women who do good works,” Julian persevered.
“I admire anyone who lives by their Bible, sir.”
He smiled. “If you know my reputation, you must consider me something of a sinner, then, Miss Cartwright.”
“With respect, I have no knowledge of you outside your work with our school, where you perform an exemplary job.”
“And, I assume, you have no desire to know more about me.”
She looked him right in the eye. “Not at all, sir.”
“I see.”
She returned her gaze to the window. “We’re almost there. You don’t need to come in with me, Mr. Laurent. I’m perfectly capable.”
“I’m well aware of that, Miss Cartwright.” He thumped on the roof as they came alongside the high walls of the institution and the coachman stopped. “Do you require an umbrella?”
“I have one.” She brandished it like a weapon as she struggled with the latch on the door.
“Be careful—” Julian made the mistake of leaning forward to help her just as his coachman released the latch from the outside. With a gasp, Miss Cartwright fell out into his servant’s arms, and Julian’s forehead received a blow from the sharp end of the umbrella.
Miss Cartwright and his coachman didn’t appear to notice as they sorted themselves out and shut the carriage door. Julian sat alone in the silence, one hand pressed to his temple. When he drew it away, his fingers were covered in blood. With a curse, he found his handkerchief and pressed it over the throbbing wound. He sat back as a vague dizzy feeling engulfed him and ordered himself sternly not to faint.
He realized they were back at Mrs. Mountjoy’s only when his coachman opened the door and gawped at him.
“What happened to you, sir?”
“Umbrella,” Julian said as he got out. “You can go home, Bert.”
“But what about your head?”
“I’ll ask Mrs. Mountjoy to help me,” Julian said. “Now, please go.” He headed toward Mrs. Mountjoy’s front door.
Bridget opened the door to him and immediately started screeching, which wasn’t helpful. “Mrs. Mountjoy! He’s bloody bleeding!”
There was a flurry of activity in the hall behind her, and Carenza and Mrs. Mountjoy appeared.
“Well, don’t let him drip blood over my newly cleaned doorstep!” Mrs. Mountjoy said. “Let him in. Take him to the kitchen, and I’ll fetch my supplies.”
Julian blinked as he took an unsteady step forward. “There’s no need to fuss.”
“What happened?” Carenza demanded as she took his arm and marched him down the hall toward the kitchen.
“What do you think?”
She made him sit on a chair. “Were you attacked?”
