A Dangerous Courtship (11 page)

Taking a deep breath, and praying for some composure, Veronica took the bundle off the deal table, and then looked the man straight in the face.

"Regardless of what you think of me, sir, do know I am sorry for whatever happened at Fountains this night. I-I had asked you to help locate this package for me, promising employment in return. You have done just that. I appreciate your help and I wish you Godspeed. I don't care what you're running from and I don't care to find out. Trust me when I say I shall not utter a word about any of this to anyone. And now if you'll excuse me, I think it is time I take my leave."

He remained silent, simply watching her.

Veronica felt ill at ease beneath his scrutiny. In her mind, a tumble of scenarios played themselves out. She'd promised him payment in the form of employment. Dare she do just that? Her father would question her mercilessly—and no doubt just as mercilessly reject her request of hiring on some man she'd met in Yorkshire. Gad, how would she even broach the subject to the earl?

In the next instant, Veronica knew she would never dare do such a thing. If she could, she would simply arrange the man's employment on her own, at one of her father's most far-flung estates. And then she would pray mightily that the earl would not be visiting that estate any time soon.

Gad, what had she gotten herself into? She'd never really meant to betray this stranger with an empty promise—she'd simply been desperate to have Rathbone's package. And since Julian had appeared so down and out of luck and in need of employment, like a ninny had dangled the carrot of a job and a roof over his head to lure him into helping her.

And now, unfortunately, it was time to pay....

Veronica inwardly winced. She felt as though she was stuck fast betwixt a rock and a hard place. To actually find employment for him would lead, eventually, to Earl Wrothram learning the full of her sojourn to Yorkshire and her meeting with Julian.

In a rash, reckless moment, Veronica made her decision. "If you give me an address, I'll post word to you of where and what your employment will be in payment of your services this night," she announced.

The truth of it was, Veronica had no intention of doing any such thing. She would, however, she decided, sell some of her jewels. She would ensure that a tidy sum of money was given to Julian for his deeds this night, no matter the cost to her own future security.

It would have to serve as balm enough.

Julian, though, seemed to have a sixth sense where her thoughts were concerned.

With alarming speed, he reached out and then carefully but with purpose plopped her down atop the chair he'd just vacated. That done, he fastened his fists about the tall back of the chair, leaned down, and met her startled gaze with his own fierce one.

His face nearly touching hers, he said, lowly, darkly, "The position I desire is not at some far-flung estate of your father's, Veronica, but at the very one where
you
reside. And the job I will be employed to do will not be in any Town garden or some crowded mews, but acting as your personal guard, whether you like it or not."

Veronica blinked in dismay.

Julian was not about to be hampered in his speech. Ignoring her reaction, he said, "That package you left me to find is something akin to a bloody Pandora's box. Because of it... and because of your plea for me to find it, I was nearly beaten to death. And I've no doubt, my lady, but the two river rats who accosted me this night might soon be in pursuit of you... unless, of course," he added, his voice going low, accusatory in tone,
"you
are the one who employed them."

Veronica sucked in a gasp. "Do not be absurd!"

"I am not. If anything, I am being careful."

"But I know nothing of the men who accosted you! Indeed, if you must know the truth, I-I know very little about the package you found, other than the fact it is destined for a well-heeled lord in Town."

The look in his ravaged face told her he believed that much. "And is this lord in Town a friend of yours?"

No,
Veronica thought, thinking of the blond-haired Rathbone with his silky smile and empty phrases.

But in the next instant, she thought of Pamela, and of how much the pretty and true Pam had helped her during that first year in London when Veronica had been at sixes and nines in worrying over the too-lovely Lily and her sister's penchant to fall in love and give her all to every rake who came her way.

For Pamela, Veronica would do anything. Even lie to this dangerous stranger who had been a help.

"Yes," she heard herself whisper, "this person is a dear, dear friend of mine."

Her words seemed to seal Julian's resolve. "The matter is settled then," he said.

"What?"
Veronica asked. "Nothing is settled, sir, other than that I will pay you for your trouble and—"

"You heard me," he cut in, then motioned with a slight nod of his head toward the door. "Tell your man you'll be leaving this inn at dawn. Explain to him I will be accompanying you, will now be your personal guard. Do not allow him to overstay your rule. Is that clear, my lady?"

Veronica was aghast. "No! None of this is clear," she gasped. "It's absurd and preposterous and—"

"Do it," Julian cut in. "No matter what it takes, no matter how firm you need to be, you tell your man that I am joining you on your trip back to London and that I will be your shadow even beyond the moment you are tucked securely back in your bed there."

Veronica gaped at him, fighting hard to keep her composure. She was more than just a little affected by his mention of her bed... and that he'd be lingering near her at all times. "He—he will never allow it," she whispered.

"For whom does the man work?" Julian demanded. "Himself or your family?"

He works for my father only,
Veronica thought, but did not say the words. "Wh-what you are proposing is outrageous. I'll be perfectly safe in my family's home in London. I—"

Roughly, he cut in, "Devil take it, my lady. You seem not to understand. Your choice in this matter is none. I
will
go with you to London, I
will
shadow your every step... and as God as my witness, lady, I will put you abed myself every night if I deem it necessary."

Veronica gaped at him, shocked. Heaven help her, but she believed him. "You are mad," she whispered.

"Aye. A specter raised from Fountains, brought out of her depths by your own hand, my lady. I'm involved now, up to my eyeteeth in this Venus Mission of yours, and not you or your coachman or the hounds of hell will stop me from doing what I vow. Now go. Tell your coachman."

Veronica knew a terror beating in her breast. What had she unleashed this night? Drat that package, and blast this—this riverkeep!

"I'll inform him," she ground out, "but once we are in London, sir, you can rest assured I'll not be heeling to
your
word."

"We'll see about that," he replied. "Now go upstairs and see that your things are packed. I'll be back within the hour."

"Wh-what do you mean, you'll be 'back?'" she asked warily.

"Just what I said. My duties as your personal guard begin this night. Do leave a light lit for me in your room."

"The devil I will!" she blasted.

But he wasn't listening. Before she could stop him he swiped the bundle from her hands and headed for the door.

"Wait!" she cried. "Where are you going with that?"

He glanced at her over one shoulder, his battered eye looking frightful. "I'm taking it with me."

"But I
need
that!"

"Aye," he muttered. "So I've noted."

"Stop. You cannot just take it with you!"

"I can and will, my lady. Call it insurance."

"Insurance for what, blast it all," Veronica demanded.

"Insurance that you won't be leaving this inn without me." He reached for the handle of the coffee room door. "I'll see you within the hour. Go straight to your room. Talk to no one other than your own servants."

With that, he thrust open the portal, ignored Shelton's huge bulk of a frame turning on him, and then was gone.

Veronica let out a furious breath. What an insufferable, arrogant, rude beast of a man!

Shelton glowered at her from the doorway.

Veronica glowered right back. Gad, but she'd had enough of men this night! "We leave for London in the morning," she snapped. "At dawn. Have everything ready. I'm going to my room."

"My lady," he began in a dark tone.

"Not a word, Shelton," she said, cutting him off.

And before the man could question or gainsay her, Veronica swept past him, her mind in turmoil.

Julian intended to be her bodyguard. What a notion!

If he hadn't taken the packet with him, she'd have sighed in relief and then hurried away from Yorkshire with no qualms.

But he
had
taken the package, and now Veronica had no choice but to do as he ordained.

Her personal guard indeed. What an ogre he was. What a perfect lout! What
was
the man thinking?

But as Veronica headed deeper into the hall, away from the coffee room and her coachman, she began to grow truly edgy. It seemed that all of Yorkshire was awake and partying in earnest. Some vagabonds had obviously beaten Julian soundly. Could those miscreants have followed him to the inn? Could they be watching now as Veronica headed upstairs to her rented chambers?

She had no idea.

Deciding not to make a target of herself, Veronica hurried up the staircase, then quickly let herself into her room.

Nettie was waiting for her with wide eyes.

"Oh, m'lady," said Nettie, "I was a-feared I'd left you to the devil himself down there! Are you all right? You're not abused in any way, are you?"

Yes!
she wanted to shout.
I've been abused and sorely treated and—and, blast it all, kissed until my toes curled and my heart leapt.
And that, alas, above all the others, was the sole reason why Veronica had allowed Julian his way. Not because of the danger she might be in, or even so much because of the package... but because he'd kissed to life something inside her that had lain dormant too long.

Somehow, someway, Julian had wormed his way into the small space of her soul she'd kept so deeply buried all these years. It had happened the moment he'd kissed her at Fountains and when he'd claimed she was his hope and need answered.

And now... now he was going home with her to London, to be her personal guard.

But who would guard her from Julian?

More importantly, who would guard her heart?

Chapter 8

Julian rode out of the village, setting his horse to a fast lope, his mind a-tumble with thoughts.

His brutish behavior with Veronica had been inexcusable, he knew, but he'd had to push her, to glean for himself whether or not she'd hired those miscreants to attack him. A part of him believed that she hadn't. He had known it the second he'd looked into her eyes, he could read the truth of her innocence in those violet depths.

But that did not mean her 'friend' in London was not without guilt, and so Julian had quickly seized upon the idea of playing her guard and following her to London.

Zounds! What a notion. Even now, he could not believe he'd actually taken such a course—but he had, and now he would see it through.

Julian did not fear being recognized by anyone of the
ton,
given that he'd fobbed off Society the year he'd graduated University and then had left England altogether, satiating his yen for travel in lieu of boring Seasons in Town.

His father had allowed him his head, given that the sixth Earl of Eve had been but ten-and-seven when Julian was born, and hale and healthy and expecting to live a long life, he'd seen no need for his only son to bother with the Marriage Mart if he had a yearning to go abroad instead. Seeing that Julian settled down and set to the task of overseeing the many holdings of the Eve fortune could come later, the earl had often told his son. And so it had been thus, and Julian had traveled, visiting his family over the years, usually at one of their country estates and only rarely in London, for his parents did not like Town life much either.