* *
“You know,” Cal said to Julia from the passenger seat as they rumbled down a country lane, “you’re the only woman I’ve ever let drive me.”
“I know my way around the estate and you do not. It is far more sensible for me to drive.”
“Yeah, but someday I want to tempt the sensible right out of you.” He grinned.
“I doubt that will happen,” she said, her tone prim even when shouted over the roar of the engine.
He liked the way she looked while driving. She had put on goggles to keep out the wind and the dust, and they made her look sweetly adventurous. She had pulled on a cloche hat and wound a scarf around her neck that fluttered and snapped behind her like a crisp flag.
She was so determined to change his mind about Worthington. But what he had seen today had cut to his bone. He had felt for the girl Hannah. She was supposed to “know her place.” What a load of damn crap.
Cal had returned to the kitchen and told Hannah she could give orders to any of the footmen to help her. The snooty butler, Wiggins, had sputtered, until Cal had told him he could follow Mrs. Feathers out the door if he wanted. Wiggins had drawn himself up and had claimed to have been in service to the family for five decades. “What a hell of a way to waste a life,” Cal had said. Then he’d gone out. He’d found Julia in the drawing room with Diana, who looked strained and worried. The thing was—he’d looked at Diana’s drawn expression and felt an unexpected jolt of guilt.
“So where did your brother get a beautiful American automobile like this?” he asked. “I’m surprised he lets you drive one of his cars.”
“It’s my motorcar. Not my brother’s.”
“You bought this fine automobile?” He had to admit he was surprised she knew how to drive and didn’t just have a chauffeur take her around.
“It was a birthday present from Zoe, my sister-in-law. She had it sent from New York. She called it a symbol of my freedom. I do love to be able to say ‘I shall go here’ and I can take myself there. It does make you feel powerful.”
“Does it?”
The car was a spiffy roadster. The chrome gleamed and the glossy cream paint shone in the sunlight. Julia was a surprisingly good driver, taking the winding turns with skill. She slowed and accelerated with confidence where she needed to. “I guess a duke’s daughter is used to getting what she wants,” he said.
“Hardly. I could have never bought a motor on my own. Until I marry, the only money I have comes from my pin money. That was how I was trying to fund my charitable work, at least when I was doing the work that no one approved of. Finally, I made up my mind to sell this car. She would have fetched a tremendous amount of money and I need it for the women I’m helping. It would have utterly broken my heart to do it, but I would have done it.”
“Darling, I would never let you sell this car.”
She glanced briefly at him. Then looked back to the narrow road. “The only money I can even call mine is my dowry and that is locked up as tight as Fort Knox in America. But my sister-in-law Zoe is going to provide the financial backing and I can use that to help women begin businesses or run their farms so they can feed their families. My brother and his wife take great care of the families on the Brideswell estate, but those on the Worthington estate have needed help.”
“The Duke of Bad Manners didn’t like the idea of mixing with the poor.”
She giggled and it was a lovely sound. “You mustn’t call him that. But too many people feel that way. It’s rather frustrating.”
“You still do it.”
She turned, flashing a smile that made his heart stop beating. “I am a duke’s daughter.”
“You’re not what I expected of an aristocrat. Why do you do it, when you have to fight so hard?”
“Once, I would have followed duty and rules, but not now. People lost so much in the War. It is wrong to let children go hungry and women lose their homes! These men gave everything to protect our country, to protect our way of life. I lost Anthony to the Somme and I grieved him for a very long time. Then I realized I needed to find purpose in my life. I didn’t want to go back to a life of dinner parties and presentation at court. I wanted to do something of value. It made the pain of losing Anthony go away.”
“You’re the bee’s knees, sweetheart. A dame with a good heart, and a real Sheba.”
Her eyes widened. “No one has ever said that to me before. What does it mean?”
“You know what a dame with a good heart is. A Sheba is a girl who oozes sex appeal.”
The car jolted in a rut. It was the first time she’d hit anything. Good. It meant he was getting to her. Finding the ways to get under her skin.
Lady Julia turned off onto something that looked like a cart track. Apple trees stretched as far as he could see. “This is part of your orchards,” she said.
“We’re not on a road, Sheba.”
“We are. This is the lane to one of your farms and it also passes several small cottages.”
A cottage came into view and she drew off to the edge of the lane. “This is the first family I want you to meet. I was coming here when I received a message to see Diana.” She turned off the engine and got out. Then she plucked a basket off the rumble seat behind her—filled with food, he saw—hooked it over her arm and firmly pushed open the small wooden gate in front of the stone building. It was tiny, with a short door flanked by two small windows. Roses budded all over the front.
“These are your tenants,” she said. “Your estate encompasses about thirty thousand acres.”
“Yeah. That’s what the lawyer told me. It’s a different thing when you actually see it.” But there was something he didn’t get. “Why are you looking out for the tenants and not Lady Worthington? Does the countess ignore the lowly peasants? Or is this another promise to my cousin?”
“The countess took very ill after her son John died in the car accident.” She hesitated. She wasn’t looking at him, which made him curious. “She has experienced so much loss. It was so hard on Lady Worthington. You must consider that—”
“Yeah, but she still hasn’t developed an ounce of compassion. Couldn’t she have sent her daughters to do what you’re doing?”
Julia took a deep breath.
“What is it? What are you hiding from me, Julia?”
“This tenant—Ellen—has had to...to sell herself to men to earn money. That means all respectable women are supposed to shun her. They are not allowed to show kindness.”
He knew exactly what she meant. “But not you. You aren’t afraid of anything.”
“That is not true. But some things are simply more important.” She reached up to rap on the door. But it was yanked open.
A kid stood there—a kid in short pants and a cap, who looked as
