The Secret Life of Lady Julia Read Online Free PDF

She shut her eyes. So much sorrow and misery had been caused by her foolish desire for a kiss—a kiss that had ruined so many lives. As much as she wished to banish Tom Merritt from her thoughts, forget him forever, she could not.
    “Good afternoon.”
    Julia turned to find Major Lord Stephen Ives standing behind her, his cloak open to reveal his scarlet military tunic, bright as blood against the silver fog.
    She felt a pang in her heart. It was the same tunic her brother had worn, from the same regiment, the Royal Dragoons. James had died a hero in that tunic, and it was due to James’s bravery that it turned out she wasn’t entirely without friends after all.
    Nicholas Hartley, David’s brother, had stood by her. He’d given up his commission in the Royal Dragoons when David died and he inherited the title. He’d come to see her when he returned to England, as bewildered by the circumstances of David’s duel as she was. Nicholas never once blamed her for the way things had turned out. A friend from her childhood, he was as close to her as her own brother had been. He had arranged for a house, a midwife, and a nurse, and when her father insisted yet again that she leave the country, Nicholas had arranged an introduction to Major Lord Ives, and a chance for honorable employment.
    She was now the paid companion to Lord Ives’s sister, Dorothea Hallam, hired to accompany the brother and sister out of England. Stephen Ives was a diplomat, on his way to the peace talks in Vienna, and his sister was a recent widow, alone in the world. Neither had asked for details of her scandal fortunately, since she had used up all the favors. It was time to stand on her own two feet, rescue herself and her son from the consequences of the past.
    “Have you been out of England before?” Major Lord Ives asked now, coming to stand by the railing, yet keeping his distance from her. Was this how it would be from now on, respectable folk refraining from touching her or coming too close for fear that scandal was catching? Stephen Ives’s face was carefully blank, correct, but not unkind.
    “No, I’ve not traveled, but I’ve heard many stories,” she replied.
    “From your brother, no doubt,” he said with a polite smile.
    “Actually, it was my grandmother.” She swallowed. “And you, my lord—have you been far afield, aside from Spain? War seems a hard way to see the world.” Someday she would work up the courage to ask him how James died, but she barely knew Lord Ives yet, was still learning the boundaries between a servant and employer from this side of the coin. Once, she had been his social superior—an earl’s daughter, the fiancée of a duke—but she was no longer even his equal.
    He studied her face for a moment, gauging her interest, perhaps, and she held his eyes.
    “Yes, war is the hard way to travel. I saw Portugal, Spain, and France through a soldier’s eyes, in ruins, mostly, after battles.” He forced a dry smile. “Now I’ll see Paris and Vienna as a diplomatic aide. I trust it will be much more pleasant, if, of course, the other envoys all agree to behave themselves at the peace negotiations.”
    “A least there will be no guns or swords,” Julia said.
    “No, we’re not enemies anymore, nor yet are we friends. A war of words can do as much harm as a battle.”
    She knew that. Her maternal grandmother had once been married to a diplomat, had traveled with him, learned protocol, foreign manners, and how to tread cautiously in the presence of courtiers and kings. Julia’s toes curled in her shoes. She was secretly thrilled to be walking in Arabella’s footsteps. Would she meet pirates or pashas or kings? Kings at the very least, she supposed, since every one of the crowned heads of Europe were expected to take part in the peace conference.
    A maid came on deck and dipped a curtsy to Major Lord Ives before turning to Julia. “Lady Dorothea wants you, Miss Leighton. The sea is making her feel poorly.”