Loving Julia by Karen Robards Read Free Book Online Page A

convince me that my lately deceased cousin—who was many unpleasant things, but one hopes, not quite run mad!—married you?”
    “If Timothy Stratham be yer cousin, then that’s right, ’e did.”
    The earl was silent for a moment, the coldness deepening in his eyes. When finally he spoke, his voice was as chilling as his expression. “Tell me, what type of background breeds a vulture such as you, who would prey on the family of a young man not a week in his grave? You look rather young for that kind of game, so it stands to reason that someone has hired you. Come, admit it, and let’s have done with this farce. You might as well because you won’t get so much as a farthing out of me.”
    “Timothy did ’ave a proper funeral, then?” Jewel’s voice was subdued. The idea of that sweet-faced young man lying in a cold dark grave was sobering, even in the light of the earl’s insults.
    The earl’s eyes narrowed again. “I suggest again that you admit the lie and have done. Do you know that what you are attempting is called fraud, and is punished by many years’ imprisonment in Newgate?”
    Jewel swallowed, her eyes widening as the threat went home. Newgate was more frightening than hellfire to London’s street people.
    “But it be true! Timothy Stratham did marry me, and tol’ me ter bring me marriage lines to the Earl o’ Moorland, who ya claim to be! ’e said, ‘It’ll be one in the eye for ole Seb,’ and ’e laughed.”
    The earl’s beautiful face tightened as if he were struggling to deny some unwanted emotion. Then just as suddenly, it emptied of everything save cool detachment. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Jewel. “You begin to interest me. Suppose you tell me this remarkable tale from beginning to end—the truth, mind!”
    Jewel straightened indignantly. “I’m not no liar!”
    “We’ll see, won’t we?” The earl regarded her affronted face without any apparent contrition. “Now tell me your tale if you please. Unless you want to be thrown out on your ear, of course.”
    “By ya and wot army?” Jewel muttered to herself. But when the earl looked at her in that daunting way of his, she launched hastily into a somewhat censored account of how she came to be married to Timothy Stratham. In her version of events, she was merely a passerby who happened to see the poor injured man on the street and rendered him assistance. As she finished her account with Father Simon’s name and direction, she saw that the earl’s eyebrows were once again lifted slightly, and bit her lip. Had she somehow let slip something she shouldn’t?
    “So you cared for him as he lay dying,” the earl mused when she had finished. He still leaned slightly back in his chair, but his eyes as they met hers were keen. “And you took advantage of my cousin’s weakness on his death bed to persuade him to marry you. Is that not how it happened?”
    “N-No!” Jewel stuttered with relief that this was the area of her tale he was choosing to question. In this part of what had happened, she was completely innocent. “Timothy said ’e wanted ter give me a reward for takin’ care of ’im, but the robbers ’ad took all ’is money and ’e said ’e would marry me instead. ’e said that that way I’d be took care of fer the rest of me life.”
    “Oh, he did, did he?” The earl’s eyes narrowed. He was just about to go on when the study door opened with scarcely more than a ceremonial knock.
    “Sebastian, Caroline tells me that you refuse to join our guests. That is quite in keeping with your usual churlish behavior, but this time I must insist. Lord Portmouth is among them and he is your godfather, you know. You cannot be so rude as to slight him.”
    “Oh, but I can, mama. You of all people should know that.” The earl smiled at the slight, imperious woman who stood in the doorway regarding him coldly. Her manner was so like his that Jewel would have known who she was even if he had not