“How dare you?” Julia had never confronted a person in her life. She’d never had the courage. No matter the injustice, her nerves had always got the better of her. But not today. A fiery indignation tore through her. “Who do you think you are, sir, to lay hands on my children?”

He gaped. “Your children?”

“You heard me.” Julia stretched out her hand to the boys. “Charlie, Alfred. Come here.”

Charlie and Alfred flew to her side, permitting her to enfold them in the protection of her arm. Their faces were as blank as professional card sharps. One wouldn’t know they’d just been unceremoniously tossed into the street.

A beady-eyed woman in an apron appeared from behind the shopkeeper. She addressed Julia in scathing tones. “And who might you be, madam?”

Julia drew herself up to her full height. It wasn’t much. Not more than five feet and three inches. But in that moment, she felt as commanding as Lady Arundell herself. “I am Mrs. Blunt, and these children are in my charge. How dare this man presume to lay hands on them?”

The woman’s eyes goggled. “I told you Captain Blunt took a wife,” she hissed at Mr. Taggert.

Mr. Taggert shushed her with a wave of his hand. “I ask your pardon, Mrs. Blunt,” he said to Julia. “But if you knew these boys as I do—”

“I know them quite well, thank you. And if their coin isn’t good enough to be spent in your shop, mine will certainly be spent elsewhere.” Julia turned the children back toward the carriage.

It was only then she realized they’d garnered an audience of gawking villagers. The woman with her bag of shopping stood staring on the side of the street, now in company with another woman. A shopkeeper had emerged from his store to join them. Up ahead, a man in a suit was standing outside the door of Orrick’s Emporium. Another shopkeeper. Perhaps Mr. Orrick himself.

Julia’s stomach sank. She hadn’t intended to make a spectacle of herself on her first visit into the village. On the contrary, she’d hoped to make a good impression.

The man in front of the Emporium regarded her warily.

She stiffened her spine. “Mr. Orrick, I presume?”

He bowed. “Mrs. Blunt.”

Steeling herself, Julia affected the same lofty tones she might use in a Mayfair drawing room. “I trust the service at your Emporium is more in line with what I’m accustomed to in London.”

“London!” one of the bystanders echoed in an awed undertone.

Mr. Orrick bowed again, even lower than before. “I endeavor to please, ma’am.” And stepping back, he held open the door so she and the children could enter his shop.

Several hours later, Julia and the children arrived back at the Hall, their arms filled with more boxes than they could carry. The boys were still in high spirits over how Julia had routed their tormentor. Even Daisy was beaming, awash with pleasure at the colorful fabrics, ribbons, and dainty little parasol Julia had purchased for her.