A Dangerous Courtship (17 page)

Julian frowned, his battered eye looking even more grim in the looking glass as he did so. If that brute of a coachman made one untoward comment to Veronica, Julian would lay the man low with the mightiest of boxing punches, he vowed silently to himself.

His mood darkening, Julian left the room, deciding he'd best have a word with the lady's coachman before he was forced into fisticuffs with the man.

Julian found Shelton in the kitchen seeing that Veronica's breakfast was being prepared. The minute Julian entered the room the coachman stiffened, glowering at him.

"Not you again," he muttered.

"Aye. 'Tis me, and I'd like a word with you."

Shelton waved one arm at Julian, dismissing him. "I've no time for your like. Be gone," he said in a warning tone, heading out the back door of the kitchen and no doubt intending to see to the cattle and Veronica's carriage.

Julian doggedly followed him.

They got as far as the water pump before the huge, hulking coachman whirled about, hitching up his coat sleeves as he did so. "You want trouble, man?" he asked, his deep baritone voice disturbing the few chickens that pecked at some feed on the ground near the well. "Then so be it. I'll give you trouble—enough to make sure you'll not be bothering my lady again."

Julian spread his arms wide. "I simply wish to talk with you. Set you clear on a few things."

"And what might
that
be? Eh? I've seen your kind. Aye. Know it well, in fact. Looking for an easy way... mayhap even an easier lay."

"God's teeth," breathed Julian, "but you should mind that tongue of yours."

"Pah,
" Shelton spat. "I saw how my lady reacted to you last night. Don't think I don't know she went to those gawdforsaken ruins to meet with you, to be alone with you and do things she ought not be doing. But there you erred, man. You see, Earl Wrothram, he knows that his youngest daughter is the spittin' image of her mother. A light skirt's daughter, that's what the young gel is—a seed from one of her mother's many indiscretions—and destined to repeat her mother's sordid past. That's why I'm paid heavily to follow her every footstep, make sure she doesn't share her charms with every fool who looks her way." Shelton curled his lip at Julian. "Appears I came too late this time, eh?"

Julian suddenly felt his insides burn with hideous anger. So
this
was the reason the too-sweet and innocent Veronica had said she had too many servants watching over her... and doubtless here was the reason she'd pulled back when he'd first reached out to touch her after he'd catapulted them over that ledge at Fountains... because she'd feared he would strike her. Could the lady's father, and mayhap even this brutish coachman, have struck her during her young life? Could they have done so more than once?

"B'God," Julian rasped, hoping against hope that wasn't the way of it. "The lady is an innocent, undeserving of such rotted talk."

"Yeah," breathed Shelton, clearly not agreeing, "and King George is as sane as you, eh?"

Julian did not pause to think twice. With a savage growl he charged at the coachman, slamming against the man's mighty girth, knocking into his midsection with one shoulder and thrusting him back and down.

Shelton's huge body hit the earth with a thud. The chickens squawked, feathers ruffling as they darted away to safety.

Shelton let forth a grunt of surprise. "What the—"

Julian grabbed the brute by the scruff of his collar, yanked his bull-like head up, and said, in no uncertain terms, "Hear me and hear me well, you piece of hired vermin. The young woman you've been paid to watchdog is a lady in the truest sense of the word. She is no more a woman of sullied morals than you are a man of distinction. She
did not
go to Fountains to meet me, but did so as a favor to a friend. And I no more had my way with her than any other man has. She is pure, do hear?
Pure and sweet and all that is good,
and a damned sight better than you or her father obviously are."

Julian was past reason. He knew only a furious rage buffeting through him. It seemed that his exile at Fountains had brought out the very beast in him, that no longer was he the Earl of Eve, but rather a creature of animalistic instincts, something akin and not very much above the wild dogs that roamed the abbey's ruins.

He pressed his large hand about the man's meaty throat, tightening his hold. "You will
not
be informing Earl Wrothram of Lady Veronica's sojourn to this shire, sir, nor," he added, his voice a grim note, his body bearing down hard on the man's, "will you be denying the fact that I have now chosen to be your lady's personal guard."

Shelton's eyes went wide at that last bit of news as he tried to throw Julian off of him. But Julian held tight, bearing down with even more force.

"Aye," Julian muttered, purposefully lowering his lips toward the coachman's face, so that the man could make no mistake of hearing him fully. "I am taking it upon myself to accompany your lady and you back to London. My sole task is to guard her ladyship. And trust me, I am not a man to be thwarted. Give your lady any trouble and you'll have me to deal with. Alert her father about her journey to the abbey and you'll face the same. Do I make myself clear?"

The coachman glared up at him. "You're crazed, man."

"Aye. I am, and you don't know the half of it—not by far—so do not cross me."

The man shifted a bit, weighing all he'd just learned, and then, suddenly, his anger at being shoved to the ground seemed to dissolve. He went slack beneath Julian.

"What's this... some trick on your part, you vile piece of vermin?" Julian breathed.

"No, no tricks. I am not going to spar with you, man. And you have my word, whoever you are, that I'll not be telling Earl Wrothram about his daughter's journey here. 'Tis clear as bells you care about the lady—God knows she needs someone to be caring about her."

Julian cocked one brow at the coachman's change of mood.

"Naw, don't be glaring at me with that banged-up, suspicious eye of yours. I'm trying to tell you I'm ready to hear you out, man. Now why don't you get that ugly mug of yours out of my face and let me stand upright?"

Julian, still not fully trusting the brute, but realizing there was a definite change in the wind, slowly got to his feet, even reaching down to give the coachman a hand.

The man accepted the offer, stood up, then brushed off the seat of his pants. Julian was surprised when the coachman offered a handshake.

"The name's Shelton," he said. "Since you're so hell-bent on being the lady's guard, I s'pose we ought to introduce ourselves."

Julian warily took the man's hand and shook it. "Julian," he replied.

"I won't be asking how you got that swollen face, Julian, but you're obviously able to hold your own. So glad I am you'll be joining us for the ride back to London. Come on," he said, releasing his hold on Julian's hand. "We can talk while we head to the stables."

Julian sized up the man, unable to trust the change in him.

"Are you coming or not?" Shelton grumbled in a gruff tone that sounded surprisingly friendly.

"Coming to be sure, but I must say I am surprised at the change in your manner."

"I'm not so terrible, though I've been paid to be a frightening presence to Earl Wrothram's daughters. Was told to keep them under thumb and didn't have much say in the matter." He started walking.

Julian followed.

"I'll tell you this much," Shelton continued. "I haven't had an easy time of it since Lady Veronica came to Town with her sister. She's always sneaking out of her father's house, she is, running hither and yon 'bout London, and her father yelling to me that he doesn't trust her. I had no choice but to follow her, to be gruff with her. But in my heart of hearts, truth be known, I never did believe the young lady was up to no good. And I never could understand why she wasn't claimed right fast by some swell and swept toward the altar."

"So why hasn't she—been led to the altar, that is?" Julian asked.

Shelton shrugged his huge shoulders. "Can't say. The lady doesn't exactly confide in me, o' course. I got an opinion, though."

"And that is?"

"I think she's decided never to marry. To be independent. No doubt it's because she's known the heavy hand of her father and wishes naught to spend her adult life as she has her childhood."

"And how was her childhood?" Julian asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Rough, I gather. She was but ten when her mother died, though I can't say as though Countess Wrothram was probably ever one to be mothering any child. Had a liking for laudanum, and before that for any man other than the earl."

"How horrid," Julian breathed.

"Now Lady Veronica's father," Shelton went on, clearly glad to finally be sharing his thoughts with someone, "he seems to think the reason she's taken no marriage offers is because she's sullied herself with more than one man. But me, I never could be believing such a thing, though there were times—such as when I found her at the abbey—that I had to take pause and wonder."

They were now nearing the stables.

"I've always believed in the lady's innocence," Shelton continued, "but her father's suspicions and cruel treatment of her made me think I was wanting to see something in her that wasn't there. And... and of course," Shelton added, almost guiltily, "the man pays me a heavy bit to dog his daughter's every step."

Julian let out a grunt of disgust. "The man must be a devil."

"Aye, there are those in Society what call him that. Just between us, his bad temperament has been fueled by his dead wife's wantonness those many years past. Once she'd tamed her wildness, the countess spent her last days in her chambers, taking no visitors other than her physician, since he kept her supplied with her drug. Lady Veronica and her sister never had much love from their parents. The earl moved to London the day his wife was laid to rest. Left his daughters in the care of some aged governess.

"He was glad enough to keep them tucked away at one of his country estates. Only when they reached a marrying age did he bring the gels to London. His oldest daughter, Lady Lily, she made quite a splash her first time out, got some offers, too, but only from rakes looking to line their pockets. The earl turned them all away. But Lady Veronica, ah, now she made an even bigger splash, had some fine offers, too. Earl Wrothram, though, he nipped 'em all in the bud. Said she'd not be marrying until he decided and she seemed none too eager to gainsay him, though there was one young buck she might have taken a shine to."

"Who?" Julian heard himself ask, with a little too much interest.

Shelton thought for a minute, then frowned. "Can't recall his name. Some blond fellow, rather tame. Not too high in the instep. She seemed to like his gentleness, but after a heated argument with her father, she ignored even him."

Julian stared straight ahead, his gut clenching. Could this be the person for whom she'd come to Yorkshire on a mission? Did she love him? Had she ever shared a kiss with him? Was she even now eager to return to Town to see him, to deliver to him in private the package she'd been so set on finding?

Julian brought his mind back to the present. Shelton was still talking. "... and because the earl took himself off to Bath for a few weeks is the only reason Lady Veronica dared to come to Yorkshire. She'd never have managed such a scheme had her father been in residence."

Julian blinked, trying to catch up with the conversation. "So Lord Wrothram is that beastly to his daughter?"

"Aye," Shelton replied. "But not nearly as brutal as he used to be, when she was but a young girl—or so I've been told. Like I said, she hasn't always lived in London with him. Lady Wrothram, in the past, was wont to travel from one holding to the other, never finding one to her he liking, but she finally settled down in Devonshire one year, and stayed there until she died. Lady Veronica and her sister reluctantly came to London little more than a year and a half ago for Lady Lily's come-out."

"And Lady Veronica?" Julian asked. "When was her first Season?"

"Just this past spring, though she'd as like have rather gone to the devil and supped with him instead, I s'pose. She hates Town life, I believe... or mayhap it's just being under his lordship's tight rule that she hates."

"I shouldn't wonder why," groused Julian. He came to a halt just before they crossed the lane to the stables. "Can I take it," he asked, "that the two of us might be able to endeavor to protect the lady we've both come to admire and care about? Though you've been doing her father's bidding, Shelton, I see in you a hankering to protect and believe in her. Am I right?"

Shelton reached up with one meaty fist to tug his collar from his neck. "Aye," he said, with meaning in his tone, "though I've played the devil's advocate with Lady Veronica for far too long, you are right about that; I
do
care about her. And I do think that, no matter what else she discovered at Fountains, she found a true friend in you. And it is a true and honest friend she'll be needing should the earl ever learn of her sojourn here—though he'll not be hearing it from these lips."

Julian nodded at the man. "Glad I am to hear you say that, Shelton." He motioned toward the stable yards, where several hostlers and postilions made quick work of hitching the many cattle into the traces of various kinds of rigs and chariots. "Shall we go? We've a long way before we reach London."