Jenny Plague-Bringer(50)

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In the morning, Juliana felt ill from so much drinking. She ate one of the fluffy, buttery biscuits served at the dining room table, along with a slice of fresh-cut peach, but she didn’t touch the eggs or sausages. She drank plenty of coffee.

“Have you had time to consider my offer?” Barrett asked when he joined them. He was already washed and dressed for the day, which made Juliana feel disgusting with her matted hair, wearing yesterday’s clothes. At least she’d slept well, in a beautiful room on the second floor with nautical paintings on the walls, the bed made from old ship timbers, the curtains cut from sailing cloth. Sebastian had slept in a different room up on the third floor.

“It’s certainly interesting,” Sebastian said. He sat next to Juliana and gave her a long look. Juliana had made it clear to him how much she wanted to do this, even if Barrett himself grew stranger the more they learned about him. She would almost certainly never get another chance to free herself from the demon plague.

“You sound uncertain,” Barrett said. “How else can I convince you?”

“I’m as convinced as I’ll ever be,” Sebastian told him. “I don’t really want it for myself, but I’ll have to go for Juliana’s sake. Make sure she doesn’t slip up and kill everybody there, you know?”

“I would not!” Juliana said, smiling at him. “You’ll go to Berlin? Truly?”

“I can’t stay with the carnival, can I?” he asked. “They’re about to lose the star of their freak show. Things could go south from there.”

“I’m sure the carnival will manage to survive. They did for thirty years before I joined. Oh, thank you!” Juliana threw her arms around Sebastian’s neck and held him close.

“That makes an excellent start to the morning,” Barrett said. “I’ll telegraph my colleagues in Berlin, and phone my office manager in Charleston to arrange your transportation across the Atlantic. We’ll find you a nice, modern ship that makes good time. The accommodations must be suitable for a fine lady.” He smiled at Juliana, and she did her best not to smile back too widely. She would be much more comfortable once she was out of Mr. Barrett’s unsettling, magnetic presence.

After breakfast, Barrett instructed his staff to draw a warm bath for Juliana, a process that involved boiling buckets of well water, hauling them upstairs, and pouring them into the claw-footed tub. After giving the order, he retreated to his office.

Juliana declined when a servant girl offered to “bathe” her, an offer that made her uncomfortable on many levels. She instead invited Sebastian to join her in the bathing room, provided he sat in a chair with his back turned and promised not to look. Partly this was to tease him, partly it was a peace offering—she’d gotten a lot of glares from him for her inappropriate drunken flirting with Mr. Barrett. Mostly, she did it to ensure Sebastian himself bathed before she spent days holed up in a steamship with him.

When Juliana whispered this suggestion, Sebastian gave her his first real smile since they’d arrived at Barrett House.

In the bathroom, she closed the door and turned the key, then slid a wooden chair from the corner to face the door.

“Sit here,” she told him.

“The view won’t be as pretty over here. And I won’t be able to wash your hair for you or anything.”

“I think I can do that myself,” she told him.

He sighed and took the chair, shaking his head as he stared at the closed door. Juliana backed away from him, almost to the tub, and then she pulled her dress up and over her head. She unhooked and removed her cotton undergarments, then stood by the tub, naked from head to toe. She shivered with the forbidden delight of being unclothed in a room with him, her nipples stiffening as she looked at his broad shoulders and his unkempt hair. She almost hoped he would turn around and look at her, but he unfortunately remained a gentleman.

“So, this Barrett fellow, he’s a little strange, isn’t he?” Sebastian asked, still looking at the door.

“He’s going to help us.” Juliana slipped into the warm water. It felt delicious on her bare skin. She soaped her body. “He’s certainly got the dough. A real butter and egg man.”

“Now you’re making me hungry again,” he said, and she laughed. “Don’t you think it sounds suspicious?”

“Of course. I’ve always been a suspicious girl.” She dunked her head underwater, then soaped her hair. “Never trust anyone, that’s what I say. But, still, a free holiday in Europe sounds nice, doesn’t it?”