A Dangerous Courtship (20 page)

Veronica moistened her suddenly dry lips, saying, "I-I've no interest in finding a husband."

But the words—the very ones she'd said so often to herself, silently—suddenly rang hollow in her ears. She was no longer the same person she'd been when she'd first traveled this road to Ripon and Fountains. She felt, somehow, as if she'd traveled to the stars and back and not simply just north to Yorkshire.

"So there is no special someone in your life, my lady?" Julian asked quietly.

There is you in my life
,
Veronica thought.

She was amazed at how quickly those words came winging into her brain... and amazed even more by the fact she could suddenly not recall just exactly what her life had been before a dangerous stranger lifted her up from the jaws of some wild dogs and then bore her away to safety in that ruinous abbey.

Veronica shook her head, trying to clear her mind of all the man could make her feel and think and do.

"As usual, Julian, our—our conversation has threaded into areas a lady ought not be discussing with—"

"With her personal guard?"

"With
any
man."

"So there is no special other?"

"I didn't say that."

"No. You didn't." He sighed, tipped back the brim of his hat, resettled himself atop his saddle, and said, "Very well. I'll not press."

Was that disappointment etched on his brow? Veronica wondered. Could he perhaps be truly interested in whether or not there was a serious suitor in her life?

But what did it matter? she thought in the next instant, for surely it did not signify. The two of them were from opposite worlds. Clearly something, some horrible happening, had driven Julian to Fountains—either something he'd done, or something that had been done to him.

Whatever it was, he was now going to London with her only because of the beating he'd taken at the hands of those ruffians. Once the mystery of Rathbone's packet was solved, Julian would slip out of her life just as quickly as he'd entered it, returning to God only knew where to do God only knew what....

And Veronica would continue on with her Venus Missions, would watch over Lily until she was safely wed to a man who would marry her for love and love only, and then...?

Ah, then, Veronica would do as she'd always planned to do. She would wait until her next natal day—which was not so far off—when she could claim the inheritance left her by her maternal grandmother, and she would announce to the earl she had no intentions of marrying or of even remaining beneath his roof. Then she would travel, as she'd always longed to do, and she would become an eccentric, independent spinster, but she would not care. She would be alone, but she would not care about that either. After all, it had been the dream of one day claiming her independence that had kept her sane throughout her young adulthood.

But she was fooling herself, Veronica knew. For suddenly, beneath this bright, June sun, that dream—the one she'd always held close—seemed empty, lacking. What had once seemed a grand plan now appeared plain to her, to be but a shell of an existence.

Veronica glanced at Julian from beneath the brim of her hat, knowing he was the very one who'd fanned to life in her a spark better left untouched... a spark that now needed to be fed by something Veronica had long avoided:
love.

Chapter 12

Shelton brought the carriage to a halt in front of the huge, austere manor in Grosvenor Square that was Wrothram House.

Julian dropped down off his saddle, gazing up at the place that, while grand, appeared void of any welcoming warmth or cheeriness.

Just as Shelton moved off his bench to let down the iron rungs and assist Lady Veronica to the pavement, the door of the house opened and a butler emerged.

A tall, thin man with a powdered bagwig and an immutable frown, he hurried forward to stand before the carriage door, ignoring Shelton and giving Julian an up-and-down glance followed by a look of pure disdain.

Julian considered tipping his hat and giving the uppity man a jaunty grin, but thought better of it.

The butler then bowed as Veronica alighted from the carriage. "My lady, welcome home."

"Simms," Veronica acknowledged, glancing over at Julian and then at Wrothram House, clearly nervous now that she'd brought him to her family's home. "Is Earl Wrothram in residence?"

"No, my lady. Still in Bath, he is."

Julian watched as Veronica's slim shoulders relaxed somewhat at that news. "And my sister?" she asked.

Simms's thin-lipped frown increased as he replied, "Gone with Lady Jersey to visit the ill and infirm, my lady."

Clearly, the ill, the infirm, and Julian could go to the fiery Pit as far as this bewigged butler was concerned. Julian instantly disliked the man, and he wondered how Veronica had managed to endure having such an odious being in her father's employ.

Veronica nodded at Simms, and then, her voice dropping a note lower, said, "I wish for one of the footmen to go now to the Beven establishment and send word to Lady Pamela and her brother, the Honorable Sidney Greville, to join me here within the hour, Simms. Will you see that such a message is delivered?"

The butler's thin lips pursed with further disapproval. "But you've only just arrived home, my lady. Are you quite certain—"

"Yes, Simms, I am. Please see to it," Veronica cut in.

"Yes, my lady. Of course."

Simms turned to conduct her inside the house, but Veronica hesitated and said, "I'll be along in a moment, Simms. Do go on ahead and see that my message is sent posthaste."

He paused a moment, as though in the mind to gainsay her, but said at the last, "As you wish, my lady." Casting one last jaundiced look at Julian, he headed into the house.

Veronica appeared relieved to have Simms on his way. She turned her full attention to Julian as a tired Nettie came out of the carriage. At Veronica's dismissive nod, her maid seemed glad enough to scurry inside the imposing mansion on the heels of the butler, but not before sending Julian a smile.

Julian smiled back.

Veronica ignored the exchange. "You should see your mount to the mews, sir," she said to Julian. "Shelton will show you the way. And now, if you would, please hand over the bundle you found at Fountains."

Julian lifted his brows, adoring the sight of her. "Ah, my lady, just because we've arrived in London does not mean I am going to disappear into the woodwork of this large home of yours. On the contrary, I intend to remain even more by your side."

He watched as she wrinkled that deliciously pert nose of hers. "Do not be absurd," she whispered quickly, for his ears alone. "As I've told you, I've a houseful of servants and will not need to have you dogging my every step."

Julian responded with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Be that as it may, my lady, I am your personal guard and will take seriously my duties as such. I'll not be cast off to the mews like some stable hand."

Veronica glowered at him. "You
heard
me, Julian," she nearly hissed in a fast whisper. "Now please do as I say and give me no problems. All I want from you at the moment is the package."

Julian leaned slightly toward her. "My lady, isn't that all you've ever wanted from me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, and doubtless affecting her given the slight shiver she so obviously suppressed. Julian grinned to himself knowing in his heart of hearts he did indeed hold some sway over her senses. The knowledge was like a sweet drug in his veins.

Veronica straightened, staring Julian full in the eyes, telling him with that gesture that, although she was not immune to his presence, she was just as surely not about to allow him to take the upper hand with her. "You will, sir, conduct yourself appropriately now that we are in London," she reminded him sharply.

"Yes, my lady, I intend to do just that,
especially
now that we are in London."

She frowned at his cryptic response. "The package, sir."

"So you can open it with your friends present? Could it be that one of them is the very 'friend' for whom you journeyed to Yorkshire?"

"Blast you," she muttered, her beautiful, violet eyes sparking. "I want the sheepskin bundle, Julian."

"And you shall have it. But not yet."

She glared at him, clearly debating whether or not to risk engaging in a full argument with him in front of Wrothram House. Her gaze darted once again to the huge, imposing manor. Simms had come back out on the step, motioning for one of the footman to help with the unloading of the baggage. Seeing the footman heading their way, Veronica returned her attention to Julian. "Very well," she muttered. "I shall give you thirty minutes. That is all. You will see your mount to the mews, and then you will hand the package over to Shelton and instruct him to bring it inside to me. Is that clear, Julian?"

"Clear as those lovely eyes of yours," he replied, knowing he had no intention of doing what she asked.

Veronica, incensed, turned on her heel. Then she headed for the door of the house and said over one shoulder to Shelton as she went, "Show him to the mews, Shelton. And he, uh, has something for you to pass on to me. I shall be in the library in half an hour. Have Simms deliver it to me there."

"Aye, my lady," replied Shelton, not giving her any difficulty as he would have in the past.

Moving to the back of the carriage and climbing up on the hind boot there, Shelton began to undo the straps holding the few pieces of luggage in place, then handed the first of the bags to the footman. When the man was heading for the door, Shelton let a slow whistle through his teeth, saying to Julian, "Not five minutes at Wrothram House and you've managed to anger my lady."

"Aye," agreed Julian, "seems I've a knack for that." He reached to help take down the last of the bags. "Tell me, Shelton, what do you know about this Lady Pamela and her brother, the Honorable Sidney what's-his-name."

"Greville," supplied Shelton. "His name is Greville."

"Greville," muttered Julian, branding the name to his brain and wondering if this Greville character had stolen Veronica's heart—not to mention the Eve Diamond. "Tell me all you know, Shelton."

Shelton shrugged. "Lady P and her brother became fast friends with my lady when she first came to London. Their parents were killed in a carriage accident many years ago. Their eldest brother, Lord Beven, became their guardian, acting as both father and mother to his siblings, raising them and doing a fair job of it. Finally took a wife this past year, and there's word this new bride is anxious for the earl's brothers and sister to make matches of their own and leave Beven House so she can fill it with her own brood. The Honorable Sidney Greville is the youngest brother. Has a flair for managing funds, I've heard. There's a middle son, off studying somewhere. Lady P was betrothed this past spring to some swell—a Lord Rathbone... Darius Rathbone—yes, that's the name."

"Rathbone?"
Julian repeated, a stirring of feeling flaring to life in his gut and a memory coming alive in his mind.

"Aye," said Shelton, glancing down at Julian. "You know of him?" And then, after a split second of gauging the look on Julian's face, he said, "No, no, don't answer that. I can see that you do, just as I can see you're no lowly riverkeep or even some guard-for-hire. Far as I can tell, you've got a secret or two, and for whatever reason have come to Wrothram House to keep that secret safe... or mayhap reveal someone else's."

Julian lifted one brow. "You're coming to know me too well, it appears."

"Aye," he said. "Well enough to wager you're knee-deep in something havey-cavey, though not of your own doing, I reckon."

The footman returned then for the remaining bags and both Julian and Shelton fell quiet until he got on his way again.

Once the man was out of earshot, Shelton added, "In fact, I'm coming to know you well enough, Julian, that I've decided, if you be needing any help with what it is you're involved in, you can count on me. I've spent some time in a boxing academy and can hold my own and then some, if you get my meaning."

Julian smiled up at him. "Thank you, Shelton. I might just make good on that offer. In fact," he said, looking once again at the daunting house, "I think I shall begin this moment. Tell me, how do I find your lady's library? I'd like to deliver the, uh, parcel she desires. In person."