Last Dance in London: Regency Rakes on the Run by Sydney Jane Baily

Author:Sydney Jane Baily [Baily, Sydney Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: friends to lovers, nobleman, rich man, poor girl, blackmail
Publisher: Cat Whisker Press
Published: 2021-04-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“Lady A__ was in a purple tweague, entirely directed at Lord M__ for all to witness at Mayfair’s premiere event last night. No one has seen the like, although this earl might be used to such scenes in private, especially from young ladies seeking a proposal.”

-The Gazette

“You seem quite chipper this morning,” Sarah said. “Sleep well?”

Julia had in fact slept soundly after the earl and his footman’s strange visit. She reached for the morning’s stack of papers.

“It’s true,” she said after a moment’s inspection of the Times.

“What’s true?” Her sister poured them both a cup of tea.

“Lady Chandron was killed in the St. Giles beer flood.”

Sarah gasped. “How awful! Wasn’t she the strange woman from the cricket match?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “The strange woman.”

“But how did you know?” her sister questioned.

“How did I know what?” Julia asked, still reading the article for more details on those who’d perished in such an unlikely manner.

“You said, ‘it’s true,’ as though you already suspected it and were verifying the lady’s death.”

“Did I?” She was terrible at lying but would have to give it a whirl. “I meant the whole beer flood is true and not simply something I dreamt of last night. It’s hard to believe there’s so much beer in a single vat as to flood a street and basements, too.”

Sarah stirred sugar into her tea.

“What on earth was Lady Chandron doing in St. Giles at sixish?” she wondered aloud. “Or at any time for that matter? Hardly seems the place a member of the ton would be strolling or dining.”

“Mm, hardly,” Julia agreed before setting down the paper and deciding it best to change the subject. “There are a number of balls coming up before everyone departs London. Some holiday-themed parties and whatnot. Are we attending? And what of father? When are we going to Chislehurst?”

Sarah sighed, and Julia knew at once her sister was thinking of Denbigh. For it was the sigh of a woman mooning over a man.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?” Julia nearly laughed at her sister’s vagueness, which wasn’t like her at all. She hoped Sarah found a new man to take her interest and lift her spirits. “Well, do you want to go to some holiday parties? The morning mail should be here shortly with invitations. We’ll go through them together.”

Although, as usual it would be easier not to have her sister at any parties while Julia appropriated — a nice word, she’d decided, for obtaining more jewelry.

“We’ll see,” Sarah agreed. “I’m sure I’ll go to some. Perhaps we should stay with Father for a few months. I am sick of the soot and smoke of London, not to mention its inhabitants.”

Julia blinked. Her first thought was how she would miss Lord Marshfield. Her second thought was how she needed to stop thinking the first one. Besides, there would be no question of her being able to stay in London without Sarah. The house would be closed up until the countess wished to return. In that, Julia definitely had no say.

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