Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Sixteen: Part 2

"Mrs. O'Neal, I know it is early, but would you be so kind as to bring my sister to the parlor?"

"Your sister, is it, Lord Joseph Gildeforte? Your sister, Lady Athol Soddenfeld? The one whose husband some say you killed?"

"Oh. You've read the newspaper."

"I have."

Gills waited for her judgment, hoping against hope she would throw Julia out and Gills with her, so the stubborn woman would be forced to allow him to house her properly.

Without giving any sign of her opinion, however, Mrs. O'Neal just said, "I will bring Mrs. Marloughe to you when she's ready for company." He supposed that was her judgment. Julia had probably told her the story and enlisted her sympathy.

"Julia is quite well, is she not?"

"Mrs. Marloughe is preparing herself for her day. I daresay she will tell you how she is in due course. I can bring you tea or coffee while you wait."

"Coffee, please, Mrs. O'Neal, and I thank you for it. I'll stay here in the parlour. I know the rules."

Gills already had a sentry on Julia's boardinghouse to guard against d'Alvieri committing kidnap; now he must add guards to keep her safe from newspapermen. She might need to move before this was done, and it had better be a place with a doorman.

Julia was in no rush, clearly, for Gills had drunk a whole cup of coffee when a messenger came from out of doors, looking for Smithy, the behemoth who stood at the bottom of the stairs. Gills was shocked to find the man wasn't at his appointed post. Gills could have slipped by this half hour past.

"A message for Mrs. Marloughe," the courier said, hoping Gills would give him permission to enter.

"I expect to speak to her shortly, but I can't know when," he said, but then the question was answered.

"Thank you for bringing the message from Miss Kilbrierry, Brinks," Julia said from the doorway. "Does she require a reply?"

"No, Ma'am. She told me to return for you four hours hence with a baggage wagon, and everything would be explained in the note." The messenger took his leave down the front stairs.

"Well then, I'd better read the note, if you'll excuse me for a moment, Lord Joseph."

"Of course," Gills replied. Much as he hated that her work must come first, hiding that fact was the only way to keep her trust.

Julia's eyebrows rose with every line she read. "Good heavens, Gills! We had enough to talk about without this, too."

"What is it?"

Julia closed the note and sat down, allowing Gills to sit as well. He poured her a cup of coffee.

"Emily suggests I pack up all of my belongings this morning and move into the guest room in her new apartment, which has a doorman. You've seen the papers?"

He nodded. An apartment with a doorman; things were looking up. If only she didn't also have a roommate.

"I've been expecting to be in the newspapers since we all went to the opera." Julia said. "Only I wasn't expecting to be real news. I thought I would be society gossip like you and Lord Maddox."

"No, we are real news now. Mr. Vandenberg is making a plan to mitigate the damage. He hopes to harness the attention to sell tickets."

"Is it true they could extradite us?"

"They would have to arrest us first, and we will be on our way before it makes it through all the requisite courts. We have to go back to England, is all. We have to answer for Athol. I have to answer for Athol."

"I can't let you hang for saving me from him."

"He was alive when I sent you to the carriage, my lady, only inches away from killing you, and we subsequently fled him. That is the only truth there is for you to know. I have faith that our respective families will save me from the gallows, but I admit, I'm not sure how."

"I have less faith in my family than you do."

"If we do not return, though, it will just be taken as admission of guilt. Lord Piero says they are buying us time to return, but if we do not go sooner rather than later, we will lose the ability to return altogether. We do not want to live our lives fugitives from justice over the likes of Athol. We can clear our names of him, but we have to go back to do it."

"Yes, I see that, scary as it may be. I have agreed to stay on with Miss Kilbrierry, though, Gills. She has engagements with Mr. Vandenberg through the end of this month. After that, she says she has business in England and Ireland, so I will be going there anyway."

"Yes, Maddox shares the same engagements. I suspect he will invite Miss Kilbrierry to travel with us."

"So, it is settled." Julia's hand balled into a fist and she pressed it into her stomach. Within a few months, she might yet die at her former husband's hand. And even if she didn't, she might have to watch this man—this dear, sweet man—die in her stead.

"Yes. Julia, are you quite well?"

"Gills, I... I do not wish you to think I do not... I mean... you have come to mean something to me, these past months. I won't marry you, no, and I am not the sort of woman one takes as a lover, but I am not... I am not indifferent to you, Gills. I... I care."

Gills' breath caught in his throat. He knew everything she said, of course. He was well versed in the nuances of female emotions; he suspected he knew better than Julia what she felt, though he wasn't foolish enough to say so. But hearing her say it unmoored him.

He reached out a hand to touch her face. "Julia. I love you, sweet, with all that I am." He leaned over and kissed her; before he could think about it, before she could find reason to object, before the moment of vulnerability was shuttered behind a contrary remark.

"Never did think that one was your brother, Mrs. Marloughe, but I won't have such goings on under my roof."

Julia jerked away from him, her face flaming. "I am so sorry, Mrs. O'Neal. That was quite--"

"Mrs. Marloughe will be leaving this afternoon, Mrs. O'Neal," Gills said with a grin, "to take up residence with her employer. Nothing more proper. Doorman and all."

"I can't say I didn't expect it, when I seen she was a lady. But I will be sorry to see you go, Mrs. Marloughe." With a withering glance at Gills, she added, "You are a respectable woman, through and through, and I respect that."

With a tilt of his head, Gills asked Mrs. O'Neal, "Would you be willing to say that to a newspaper reporter? Mr. Vandenberg will know exactly the right newsmen to talk to."