Free A Gentleman By Any Other Name by Kasey Michaels Page B

within the warm, loving bosom of my family. Now I’m taking Alice up to the nursery, as I know the way, and you can tell Ainsley I’m here. Or you can go to hell.”
    Julia let out a half cough, half choke, then lifted her skirts to follow after Chance when he headed up the staircase, as being left in the hallway with Jacko wasn’t the most appealing thought she’d ever entertained.
    She made it halfway across the hall before a large hand grabbed her at the elbow and pulled her to a quick halt.
    â€œYou don’t look like a nanny. Too pretty by half, and you look like one who really sees what’s around her. Why’s he here? Why’s he really here, pretty girl?” Jacko asked quietly, smiling down at her.
    â€œIf you have questions for Mr. Becket, you should direct them to him,” Julia said, wondering briefly if she might faint. “Please let go of my arm.”
    â€œLeave off, Jacko. She’s good enough. Knows what she’s about, this one does.”
    â€œBilly?” Julia asked, blinking, as the coachman rolled his wiry body into the hallway. What on earth? Servants didn’t come into the front of the house, most certainly not a coachman wearing all of his travel dirt and with mud still caked on his boots. And most definitely not any servant carrying a half-eaten drumstick.
    Billy’s walk was suddenly more assured, the tone of his voice much more forceful, and Julia realized that this was the real Billy she was seeing now and not the awkward, scrambling little man who worked as Chance’s fairly cow-handed coachie—probably playing that role for her benefit, now that she considered the thing.
    â€œBilly boy, there you are, ugly as ever.” Jacko let go of Julia’s arm. “You can go up now, miss. Third floor, then turn to your right and then your left and follow your pretty nose to the end.”
    Julia didn’t move other than to rub at her arm where Jacko’s sausage-thick fingers had been. “You’re seamen. Both of you. I should have realized…I should have—”
    She shut her mouth, remembered Billy’s description of her: Knows what she’s about, this one does.
    And she did, didn’t she? She hadn’t lived in Hawkhurst on the edge of Romney Marsh for all of her life without coming to “know what she’s about.” Knowing what Billy and Jacko were and even what those three unlucky young boys had been “about.” Knowing that asking too many questions in Romney Marsh could mean she’d soon know too much for anyone to be comfortable.
    But there was one question she had to ask. “Billy? Will you please tell me what you have done with the boys? Have you sent for the doctor? They’re harmless, Billy, just boys.”
    â€œWhat’s she running her mouth about? What boys? ”
    â€œThe lads will be fine, missy,” Billy said, ignoring Jacko’s question as he looked at Julia. “Excepting the dead one, of course. He’ll still be dead. Odette’s with the other one. If she can’t fix him, he’s good as fish bait anyway. No harm will come to them, rest your mind on that. Mr. Chance, he gave orders. You go on upstairs now, missy.”
    Julia opened her mouth to ask something else—so many questions already half-formed in her mind!—but Jacko was looking at her again. “Thank you, Billy. Our…the baggage?”
    â€œAlready waiting on you, missy.”
    â€œThank you again,” Julia said as she clutched the small traveling bag to her and neatly sidestepped Jacko. She didn’t break into a run until she reached the third floor, barely remembering anything of her surroundings on the way up, except to think that Mr. Ainsley Becket, whatever and whoever he was, must possess amazingly deep pockets.
    She had, however, found time to think up at least a half dozen pointed questions for Mr. Chance Becket!
    Julia pushed wide the already