Chapter 1
Being stuck in a tree on a rather precarious and shaky limb wasn’t actually an unfortunate position to be in, at least not if you were a boy looking for an adventure. That the person stuck was a female, a lady at that, more specifically Lady Kitson Fairbright, daughter-in-law to the elderly, high-nosed Duke of Sprogsfield and mother to his three-year-old grandson, changed the equation and put her in something of a pickle.
Not that she didn’t always seem to be in one. According to the duke, Julia was constantly trampling on the strict rules he and Society dictated for a young widow. He was always itching for her impulsive ways to land her in trouble so he could make good on his promise to take her son and raise the boy himself.
Which was why she never should have climbed the tree in St. James Park. And especially on her first day in London. But what was she to do? When they’d arrived earlier in the day, she couldn’t deny Chatwyn’s request to play in the park. He’d been traveling in a hot, bumpy carriage for two and a half days. The long journey was torture for an active four-year-old boy.
Unfortunately, the fine webbing of Julia’s butterfly net had caught in a branch of the old elm just as she trapped the beautifully winged insect. No amount of pulling or yanking brought the net down. She couldn’t let the butterfly suffer an untimely demise in the rare late-summer heat. With an extreme amount of mental fortitude and more physical strength than she thought possible, she had thrilled her son and appalled his governess by scaling the tree. Holding on to the limb above her head for balance, she’d sidestepped out as far as she dared, and reached over. Taking great care not to touch the delicate wings, she freed the butterfly from its prison but couldn’t dislodge the net.
Her discovery that the tatted collar sewn onto her dress had become tangled in a cluster of small branches and now held her hostage wasn’t what caused her moment of panic, an emotion that wasn’t common to Julia. She’d calmly removed her bonnet so it wouldn’t get caught and went about trying to free the lace at her nape with one hand while continuing to steady herself with the other. All she’d managed for her struggles was a damp neck from the exertion, raw palms, and a pair of summer white gloves that would have to be thrown away.
Yet, still remaining mostly unruffled, Julia had thought about her options and decided on the only sensible one. She’d sent her son and Miss Periwinkle home with instructions for the governess to return quickly with scissors so she could cut herself out of the knotted mess. Julia had much to do before the duke arrived in London.
Three weeks ago, she’d overheard him talking with his solicitor about a company he owned—one of many that weren’t recorded in his name but he controlled. Julia had to get her hands on the documents of one in particular. If she found it, she could prove he wasn’t the righteous standard-bearer for how one should obey rules of Society, conduct matters of business, and treat their fellowman fairly—even generously.
Julia looked at her widow’s dress. A small collar was all the trim the duke thought a proper widow should wear. He believed he knew better than anyone else what was right and what was wrong. What was acceptable and what must never be said or done. Society had kowtowed to him and agreed there was no other man more fair-minded or respectable than the revered Duke of Sprogsfield. Everyone in the ton believed he had never stepped a foot outside the straight line he drew for how one should conduct one’s life, be it gambling, drinking, or dallying with the opposite sex. The problem was that he expected Julia not to either.
The duke himself was a younger son and was never supposed to inherit the dukedom. He had been educated to be a clergyman, and he’d never put aside his strict code of what he considered right and wrong after he became the duke. He made it easy for people to assume he was better, wiser, and saintlier than they were.
While other widows were unregimented by such a pretender and could enjoy the somewhat relaxed freedoms their status availed them, Julia was not and could not. And as soon as she was free from the tree, she would return to the duke’s house and begin her quest to end his tyrannical ways.
It was daunting to think about taking on the duke, but she had no choice. The first thing she planned to do was start acquainting herself with the staff’s current habits. She’d overheard the duke telling his solicitor that all the papers concerning his secret companies were hidden in his London house. She must find them before he recovered from his illness and joined her in London.
Julia would have to be careful and elude the servants. There was no reason she should be in the duke’s bedchamber, dressing chamber, or private book room—the most likely places for him to hide the documents. It would definitely cause suspicions if she were seen in any of those rooms, and she had no doubt that the housekeeper or the footman would make sure the duke was told if she were caught trespassing. And Julia had no doubt the duke would drag himself from his sickbed to get to London if he should ever have an inkling about what she was up to.
Yet the thought of success and confronting him with her findings when he arrived in London heartened her while she waited to be freed from the tree. She desperately needed proof the duke wasn’t the pious and honorable man he portrayed himself to be but a charlatan and, in truth, an odious man.
Julia closed her eyes and breathed in the pungent scent of drying bark and sun-kissed foliage. She heard a bee buzzing nearby and laughter from the children she’d seen in the distance. Ever since she heard the duke discussing the secret companies, she’d envisioned finding the proof of his lies and telling him if he didn’t allow her and Chatwyn to be free of him and his rigid ways, she would expose his secrets to all of Society.
She opened her eyes and peered through the canopy of leaves to see if Miss Periwinkle was in sight. There was no sign of the governess, but she saw a gentleman walking his horse straight toward her as if he’d known she was ensconced among the branches. Her normal calm threatened to desert her. She hoped he would pass without a whiff of notice. Carefully, she drew her feet closer together, and lifted the hem of her dark plum-colored skirt to the tops of her walking boots to conceal herself further into the tree that thankfully was still in the full bloom of summer.
Julia couldn’t see the man’s face from her vantage point with the brim of his hat riding low, plus the way he held his head down as if he were a determined man on a mission. He was powerful-looking with wide, straight shoulders and long, lean legs that were fitted into shiny black knee boots that had short leather tassels at the top. They seemed to wink at her with every step he took. There was no doubt he had the strong, confident stride of a man who knew his place in the world, what he wanted and didn’t care what others thought.
To her surprise and annoyance, he didn’t pass by her but stopped at the base of the tree and patted the horse’s neck. The fine cut and fabric of his coat suggested he was a gentleman, but she didn’t recognize him. Carefully watching him, she wondered why he tarried. She started imagining what he could be doing. Was he pausing to take a drink from his flask, or a late-afternoon nap in the last sun rays of the day? But then an entirely different idea crossed her mind. Maybe he was waiting to have a tryst with a woman.
Right beneath her!
And that’s what caused Julia’s moment of panic and the loud gasp that gave away her position.