Outside, rain poured in sheets, buffeted by an icy wind. She’d have to go out in it and soon, even if it meant catching her death of cold. One ear cocked in the direction of the kitchen, she listened for sounds of impending doom, or in her case, Billings’s precise march. Servant or no, he’d haul her straight above stairs and turn her over to her mother if he caught her running off. Footsteps echoed along the corridor that led to the back stairs. Closer, closer. Nothing for it now. Gathering her courage, she plunged into the weather. A howling gust whipped stinging droplets of rain into her face and tore the air from her lungs. In spite of a heavy woolen cloak and bonnet, she’d be soaked to the skin in minutes. Ladies did not venture out in such weather, not without a ready carriage and a footman to hold an umbrella and stand as a shield against the elements. Today, Julia was no lady. Today instead, her behavior was scandalous. Today, she was taking her future into her hands. Skipping to avoid ankle-deep puddles scattered about the cobblestoned alley, she darted into Boulton Row, headed fast for Curzon Street in the hopes of finding an unoccupied hackney.
What do You think about A Most Scandalous Proposal?
