CHAPTER 16

Julia looked up at the sign on the redbricked building in front of them. The Oxford Hotel appeared to be an eminently respectable establishment. Then why did she feel so nervous about staying there? Perhaps it was because she’d be posing as Quinn’s fiancée. A turn of events she found rather unsettling since the idea of having him as her partner and protector appealed to her far more than it should.

“Does the place not suit you?” Quinn’s voice jarred her from her thoughts. “If it doesn’t, we can always find another hotel.”

“It looks lovely.” She smiled. “I hope it’s not expensive.” She’d gotten so used to living in poverty over the past months that her former luxurious lifestyle was no more real than the wisps of cloud drifting overhead. Yet this man, a servant in her uncle’s estate, now had more money than she did.

“Don’t worry. I have enough funds to cover the cost and to treat you to a nice dinner as well.” Quinn’s grin lit his gray eyes, creating appealing crinkles at the corners.

It was good to see him in better spirits. The fact that he was going to see his sister tomorrow must have finally sunk in. Still, a meal in the hotel would probably be pricey.

“A fancy dinner isn’t necessary,” she said quickly. “I’d be fine with a sandwich.”

“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do to thank you for coming with me.” Quinn opened the door and waited for her to enter the lobby.

In no time, he’d arranged for two rooms on the second floor and had escorted Julia to her door. “I’ll be in the next room if you need me. Would an hour give you enough time to freshen up before dinner?”

“That would be perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

Once Julia had entered her room and locked the door, she heard Quinn’s retreating footsteps.

She took a moment to look around the elegant space that contained a large bed, a dresser with a washstand, and a Tiffany lamp on the night table. The plush carpeting beneath her feet gave the room a definite feel of luxury. She sighed as she set her bag down, thankful Quinn had insisted she bring a small overnight case. From his experience with finding his brothers, he’d learned these matters weren’t always settled as quickly as he hoped.

Julia removed her hat and set it on the dresser, fatigue suddenly weighing her down. She climbed onto the bed to rest for a minute, sinking into the comfy pillow and mattress. What a far cry from the horrid bed in Mr. Ketchum’s building. She still couldn’t believe how fortunate she was to have escaped her landlord’s grasp. And all because of Quinn.

A loud rapping noise brought her out of sleep.

“Julia? Are you all right?” Quinn’s deep voice sounded through her door.

“Y-yes. I’m fine. Sorry, I must have dozed off.” She pushed off the bed, her head suddenly spinning. How had an hour passed so quickly? “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“No need to rush. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

Julia used the lavatory down the hall and washed her face and hands. Back in her room, she re-pinned her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. She wished she had a better outfit, one more suited to eating in the dining room, but her day dress would have to do.

She picked up her handbag and the room key and went to find Quinn.

The lobby was abuzz with patrons, but Julia easily spotted him. He stood by the dining room entrance, posture erect, hands clasped behind him. Julia stifled a smile at his servant’s stance, which must be second nature to him. Yet to her, it embodied a watchfulness and protection that made her feel safe.

She paused at the foot of the stairs, memories stirring of her and Amelia racing through the halls of Brentwood. Once, in trying to keep up with her cousin, Julia had slipped on a carpet that slid from under her, and she would have fallen if a certain valet hadn’t caught her by the elbow and steadied her.

“Careful, miss. Those floors can be hazardous.”

She remembered being breathless from her dash and looking into the handsome young man’s face, his serious demeanor belied by the twinkle in his eye.

“Thank you.” Her face had turned warm, and she’d hoped he thought it from the exertion of running, not from being flustered by his touch.

Now, as she caught Quinn’s intense gaze on her, the same heat crept into her cheeks. She lifted her chin and headed toward him, chiding herself for her foolish fantasies. Back then, she’d been a silly girl, mooning over a servant, yet the same impossible class structure still remained. She laid a palm over her abdomen to remind herself of the other important reason why a romance with Quinn was simply not an option.

A far more insurmountable reason, to be sure.

Quinn looked up to see Julia coming toward him, and his pulse sprinted to life. Her cheeks bloomed with color, and her eyes glowed as brightly as the chandelier above them.

“Julia. You look lovely and well rested.” He held out an elbow to escort her into the dining room. “I took the liberty of reserving us a table.”

“Thank you. I think I could eat an entire roast right now.”

Quinn laughed. “That I’d like to see.”

The maître d’ led them through the crowded room to their table, where Quinn pulled out a plush velvet chair for Julia. Each round table had a small lit candle in the center and a vase with a long-stemmed rose. White-and-gold china plates shone in the flickering light. Murmurs of intimate conversation and the clinking of silverware lingered in the air, punctuated every so often by a burst of laughter.

Julia opened the menu to scan the entrées. Trying to control his pulse rate, Quinn couldn’t seem to focus on the words. He set the menu aside. “Your mention of roast beef has made me crave the prime rib,” he said. “What do you fancy?”

She glanced up. “The fried chicken and mashed potatoes sounds delicious.”

“Indeed. That was my second choice.”

The waiter arrived to take their order and brought a basket of bread. As soon as he left, Julia lifted the napkin from the warm rolls. “Do you mind if I start on one of these?”

“Not at all. I’m glad you don’t want to wait.”

She passed him the basket with a shy smile.

It suddenly felt to Quinn like they were on a real date. Did she feel it too? Judging from the quick glances she was giving him and the way she kept biting her lip, Julia appeared somewhat nervous. Perhaps it would be better to keep the conversation casual, pretend as though the tension between them didn’t exist. He certainly didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“What do you miss most about England?” Quinn asked as he buttered a roll.

Her shoulders relaxed. “I suppose it would be the rain.”

He laughed. “Really? You miss feeling soggy?”

“In a way, yes. I loved walking over the grounds at my uncle’s estate in the rain. Seeing the green of the grass and the mist over the moors. Smelling the freshness in the air.” Her features softened, her gaze far away.

Perhaps she was homesick after all. And perhaps Quinn could use this moment to remind her how perfect it would be for her to come back to England with him. “Ah yes. That’s a smell I’ve yet to experience over here. And I do love the coziness of a fire in the hearth when it’s raining.”

“Me too.”

“I miss good English home cooking, scones and cream, and the tea . . . It’s just not the same here. I’ll be glad to get back—”

“I know what you’re doing,” she said quietly. “You’re trying to make me remember all the things I miss back home so I’ll want to go with you.”

He set his bread down, one brow quirking up. “Did I succeed?”

Her attempt to look annoyed failed when her lips twitched. “Almost.”

He laughed out loud. “I’m warning you now, Miss Holloway, I intend to keep pestering you until you buy that ticket.”

She ducked her head, avoiding his eyes.

Why did he get the feeling something had changed? Up to this point, he’d believed that money was the sole issue keeping her here, but now he sensed something else was amiss.

The waiter arrived with their food, ending the conversation. Perhaps it was just as well. He didn’t want to push too hard. Best to change the topic. “Tell me about your parents. What was your life like before you came to Brentwood?”

She swallowed a forkful of mashed potatoes and took a quick sip of water.

“Only if you don’t mind talking about it,” he said, suddenly aware that perhaps it was too painful a subject.

But she shook her head. “I don’t mind. I had a lovely childhood. Being an only child, I was spoiled, of course. Especially by Daddy.”

“I’m sure you were. Quite a different experience from our house with four children.” He dug into the prime rib, savoring the tender meat that fairly melted on his tongue.

“I would have envied your family. I used to pray for a brother or sister.” Julia attacked the chicken like she’d been deprived of food for several weeks, then patted a napkin to her mouth. “I noticed there’s a sizable age difference between you and your siblings. Were you very close with them despite being older?”

“As close as possible given the circumstances. Becky was only ten when I left home to seek employment after our father died. I sometimes wonder how different things might have been if my dad had lived.” A wistful feeling filled his chest. “I’m sure I would have been more involved in their lives.”

“It sounds like you did your best to keep in touch.”

“I did what I could.” Quinn lowered his fork. “I still can’t help but wonder why Mum never told me how dire her situation had become. If she had, I could have figured out some way to get more money.”

Julia reached over to pat his arm. “Don’t you think it’s time you let go of the guilt?”

“Perhaps.” He sat back, his stomach suddenly in knots. “I keep thinking if I can get Becky and the boys back home, I might finally be able to put the past behind me, once and for all.”

“I truly hope so. You deserve to have peace of mind after all you’ve been through.”

In that instant, with her gazing at him with those expressive brown eyes as if he were some type of hero, Quinn dared to hope he could achieve everything he desired.

A waiter came by to refill their water glasses, and Quinn focused on his meal, pleased to see Julia seemed to be enjoying her food as well. As they continued eating, the conversation turned to less emotional territory, which allowed Quinn to relax.

At last, Julia sat back with a contented sigh and laid her napkin over her plate. “That was delicious.”

“You must have been starving. You ate every bite.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you. My aunt always scolded me for eating too much whenever we were in public. She made Amelia and me eat before we went out to any of the balls.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

The waiter appeared again. “May I clear your dishes?”

“Yes, of course.” Julia moved to one side to allow him access.

“Would you care for any dessert, miss?”

“No, thank you,” she answered a bit too quickly.

Quinn frowned. He’d seen her eying their neighbor’s dessert earlier. Was she concerned about him spending more money on her? “I would love a slice of chocolate cake,” he said. If memory served from his time at Brentwood, chocolate used to be one of Julia’s favorites.

“Very good, sir.”

“Oh, and could I trouble you to bring two forks?” He winked at Julia. “I think I might have to share.”

Harriet untied her apron with a heavy sigh and hung it on the hook in the kitchen. She looked around the room, and once she was satisfied that everything was ready for Mrs. Teeter in the morning, she glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight thirty. Would young Harry be asleep, or would he be lying awake, lonely in a strange house with Julia gone?

She took a jug of milk out of the icebox and poured a small glass. Then she lifted the cookie tin from an upper shelf, picked out two gingersnaps, and wrapped them in a napkin. She would check on the lad and make sure he wasn’t in too much pain. If he was asleep, she’d leave the treat on his night table for when he woke.

After climbing the staircase, she paused outside his room on the third floor and knocked softly on the door. When there was no reply, she opened it and peered inside.

The lamp on the night table illuminated the room with a soft glow. Harry lay against the pillows, his eyes shut, the lashes creating dark shadows on his cheek.

Her throat tightened at the sight. Such a beautiful boy. One who deserved to be safe and loved, not beaten and abused. She swallowed hard and walked quietly to the bedside, searching his face for any sign of pain. Faint lines creased his forehead, and the skin around his eyes was taut, not exactly relaxed.

She set the glass and the cookies on the table, then took a seat on a chair in the corner. Somehow the thought of going to her quarters on the first floor, so far away from the child who might need her in the middle of the night, didn’t sit well. Even though Mabel had offered to stay on the third floor while Julia was away and had moved two doors down, the lad didn’t know her very well. Harriet would stay here a spell until she was certain he would be all right.

A moan woke her some time later. She jerked awake and blinked, rubbing at the stiffness in her neck.

Harry was thrashing about under the covers.

She rushed to his side, laying a hand on his shoulder.

A scream erupted from the boy, and he curled into a tight ball.

“It’s all right, Harry,” she said. “You’re having a bad dream.”

But the boy didn’t move, except for the trembling of his body under the sheets.

Shock flooded her system. The child was terrified—of her.

“Harry, love. It’s Mrs. Chamberlain. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

Harry kept his eyes shut tight, his breathing erratic.

“I brought you some milk and cookies in case you were hungry. Or in case you couldn’t sleep. I know it often helps me.” She kept her voice at a near croon, like she was trying to coax an anxious kitten out from hiding. “Are you in pain, dear? Can I do anything for you?”

Please, Lord, let him trust me. Help him to know I mean him no harm.

The bedclothes shifted, and one eye opened. “Mrs. C.?”

“Yes, love. You’re at my boardinghouse, remember?”

The lines in his forehead disappeared, and he moved the blanket farther down. “I was dreaming that I was back at the farm. Hiding from Mr. Wolfe . . . but he found me.” His voice was a mere whisper.

“Well, you’re not at the farm. You’re safe and sound here.”

He studied her. “Did you say there were cookies?”

Harriet chuckled. “I did indeed. Do you like gingersnaps?”

Harry grimaced slightly as he sat up. “I love them.”

“Good.” She handed him the napkin and helped him unwrap the treat. He took a large bite and smiled.

She sat back down, waiting patiently as he ate both cookies and drained the glass of milk. When he’d finished, she took the napkin from him. “I hope you can sleep better now, dear, with no bad dreams to trouble you.” She couldn’t resist reaching out to rest a hand on his tousled hair.

He looked up at her with serious eyes. “Mrs. C., are you sure I don’t have to go back to the farm when I’m better?” He bit his bottom lip, frowning.

Harriet clenched her teeth together, working to contain her emotions before she spoke. “No, lad. You never have to go back there again. Your brother is making sure of that.”

A slow smile emerged. “Quinn’s going to look after me now?”

“I’d bet my last shilling on it.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Now, try to get some rest. If you’re feeling better tomorrow, I’ll teach you a card game I think you might like.”

He lay back against the pillows. “Good night, Mrs. C.”

“Good night, Harry. Would you like the lamp on or off?”

“On, please. If that’s all right.”

“Of course it is. And Mabel is right down the hall if you need anything.”

“Mrs. C.?”

She paused at the door. “Yes, dear?”

“I wish I had a grandmother like you.”

Harriet squeezed the door handle, unable to say a word. At last, she summoned a smile. “Good night, love. Sweet dreams.”

And as she closed the door behind her, Harriet felt in her very bones that God had brought this boy to her for a purpose. A purpose she was determined to figure out, no matter how hard it was to face the truth.

The dining room gradually emptied until only one other couple remained at the far end of the restaurant. Julia couldn’t remember when she’d had a more wonderful time.

When they couldn’t extend their meal any longer, Quinn paid the bill and escorted Julia up the main staircase. As they approached their rooms, Julia’s palms grew damp, her heart beating a strange rhythm. Sharing the cake with Quinn had been a very intimate experience, leading her imagination down a path she had no business traveling.

At one point, when the waiters were nowhere near, he’d reached over with his thumb and wiped some chocolate icing from the corner of her mouth. His hand had lingered against her cheek, and his eyes had darkened in intensity, robbing Julia of air. In that instant, she’d gotten the distinct impression that Quinn wanted to kiss her, and to her shock, she realized she would have let him.

Now as they approached their rooms, Julia’s nerves tingled with awareness. The brush of his leg against hers, the tightening of his arm muscles beneath her hand, the heated glances he kept giving her all combined to throw her off balance.

This attraction, although thrilling, could prove dangerous and was not something she could afford to pursue. She had to remember he was her uncle’s servant and she a fallen woman.

Yet, despite every warning bell in her head, she couldn’t deny the longing to experience the thrill of his kiss. Just once.

They came to a stop at her door.

Quinn smiled at her. “Thank you for having dinner with me,” he said. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

“As did I. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a fine meal—with such fine company. Thank you, Quinn.”

He took her hand. “If I had the means, I’d give you everything you ever wanted, just to watch your face light up.” He raised her hand to his lips, his gaze never wavering.

Julia’s pulse rate grew rapid, her breathing shallow. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes from his.

Then slowly he moved toward her. “Julia.” Her name was a whispered caress against her cheek. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

She shook her head, afraid to break the spell he’d cast. Afraid he would kiss her, yet terrified that he wouldn’t. When he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, her lids fluttered closed on a sigh. He tasted of chocolate and cream. His arms came around her, pulling her against his chest, where she could feel his heart beating wildly beneath her palm.

As his kiss grew more intense, the blood surged in her veins. She couldn’t seem to feel her legs, as though her feet had left the carpeted floor. She was floating, weightless, with only Quinn’s lips keeping her from drifting away.

Then, abruptly, he broke the embrace and stepped back, allowing a rush of cool air between them. “Forgive me, Julia. I should never have presumed to take liberties with you.”

She blinked. “You did no such thing.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Then why does it feel like I’ve committed a crime?”

A crime?

She winced. “Because you can’t forget our social positions. Despite our change in circumstances, it still feels . . . forbidden.”

The lines on his forehead eased. “Exactly.”

“We’re not in England now,” she said softly. “In this country, those types of social restrictions don’t exist—at least not that I can tell.”

Quinn shook his head. “Your uncle is still my employer. He wouldn’t look kindly on this.” He sighed. “It’s probably best not to start something we can’t continue.”

In the aftermath of his kiss, she wanted to argue with him, tell him it didn’t matter what her uncle thought, but in truth, Quinn was right. Despite their attraction, a relationship between them simply wasn’t feasible. Soon Quinn would be headed back to England, and she would be staying here to give birth to her child. A life-changing event that would force her to make some serious decisions about her future.

“You’re right, as usual. We should forget this ever happened.” She swallowed a rise of disappointment that threatened to choke her. “Good night, Quinn.”

“Good night, Julia. Sleep well.” And with a last sorrowful smile, he walked away.