A Dangerous Courtship (26 page)

Julian dropped his hands from his face, Garn's speech leading him back to sanity. "Oh, Wil," he whispered, looking the young man straight in the eye. "Had you truly thought your father had forsaken you?"

Wil nodded, then lifted his chin. "Aye, m'lord. I did. What
else
was I to believe? He was gone for years, leaving me to that cottage and those lands and little else. My aunt never told me about all the funds he sent. Never said a word."

"Because they were meant for your future," Garn interrupted. "A future the likes I never dreamed of when I was your age."

Wil twisted a sad, bittersweet smile up at his father. "The only thing I ever really wanted was to have a father."

Garn nodded, his weather-beaten face registering his love. "Aye. I know that now, son. I'll be here for you, I swear. From this day forward."

Julian realized that despite Wil's foolish choices, he now had two names—Rathbone and Swann—of men who had made a play to possess the Eve diamond and chess set. Both men had been with him on that night on the Gold Coast of Africa, and both men were no doubt as guilty as sin.

Julian looked at the young man. "Dry your eyes, Wil," he said, getting to his feet, "and know I blame you for nothing. Though I took your father away from you, I leave it to the two of you to be deciding whether Garn continues on as my manservant. Between the two of you, you've enough blunt to be answering to no man."

"M'lord," Garn cut in, "I never felt as though I had to answer to you. It was my deepest pleasure to serve you."

"I know that, Garn," Julian said, sending a smile to his friend, who had been with him through so much. "But now is the time for you to reacquaint yourself with your son... with Annie's son. No doubt she would be pleased knowing the two of you were making your way together around this world of ours."

"No," Garn insisted. "Not yet, m'lord. Not until I know you've got this mystery of the chess set and diamond solved. The lady you met at Fountains... Lady Veronica?"

"Aye," murmured Julian, smiling now as the memory of Veronica's beautiful face floated before his mind's eyes. "That's her name, Garn. And lovely she is. And all things true. In fact, I intend to offer for her hand."

"So she is not connected in any way to the thugs who planted the explosives, who accosted you at the abbey?"

"She is connected, but in a roundabout way. In fact, I shall see her tonight. At a soiree. And I shall go there not as a guard, or a riverkeep, but as the Earl of Eve. Yes. That is what I intend to do, Garn."

"M'lord?" whispered Garn, perplexed. "Does this mean you'll not be paying a visit to Lord Rathbone or Swann?"

"Aye," said Julian, gazing at the Eve Diamond, which winked in the waning sunlight streaming through the high window, "that is exactly what I mean." Julian reached up one hand, running it along his bearded chin. "I think, Garn, I am due for a shave and a haircut, a bath and a change of clothes. Following that," he said, looking at Wil, smiling at the young man who'd made some daring choices but was, in fact, a brave sort who did not deserve to be condemned for his role in this sordid story, "I do believe you and Wil and I will pay a visit to the authorities. Wil, my man, are you willing to tell all you know? Giving descriptions and names? Will you help me see to it the authorities have enough evidence to take both Rathbone and Swann in for questioning?"

Wil instantly straightened, amazed he was being given a second chance. "Oh, yes," he breathed. "I am, m'lord."

"Very good," said Julian, thinking of Veronica and the father she loathed, who was hurrying home from Bath to further plague her. "Then I do believe I shall get cleaned up, and with your help, my young man, I will see every available runner in this city descend upon Swann and Rathbone, and Swann's henchmen."

Julian looked at Garn. "My friend," he said, "I thank you for your offer of meeting and dealing with the vile fiends who may be responsible for the deaths of my family. But I must refuse. We shall have the runners dirty their hands and not our own selves. After all, Garn, you've a son eager to see the world... and I have a lovely lady waiting for me. We should not disappoint them."

Gam's face beamed with a huge smile.
"M'lord,"
he breathed, "what a fine man you have been to me. It has been my deepest pleasure to serve."

"And now," Julian whispered, sending his manservant a heartfelt smile, "as your Annie would have wanted, you shall see to her son."

"But who will serve you, m'lord?" Garn asked, deep concern in his voice.

"I think I know a perfect candidate," Julian said, thinking of Shelton. "In fact, I think the two of you would get along famously."

"Oh?" replied Garn, perhaps a bit jealous.

"Aye," said Julian, grinning, "though I bet you could box his ears off."

Garn brightened at that prospect. "No doubt I could," he said, sounding typically boastful. He pushed up his shirtsleeves, showing fully his brawny arms. "Let him take one wrong move in serving you, m'lord, and I shall show him up from down."

Julian laughed, feeling better than he had in months. "I will at that, my friend. I will at that." He slapped his hands against his thighs, spearing Wil with a grin as well he rose from his chair. "What say we get a move on, eh, Wil? I am anxious for my shave and change of clothes—and even more so for you to become a man in your own right and go before the authorities with all you know."

"I will, m'lord," promised Wil, getting up as well. "And thank you, m'lord. Thank you for not judging me for what I did."

Julian looked at the boy, with his riotous curls of burnished-gold hair, his green eyes, so clear and filled with both hurt and truth. "How could I ever blame you?" he said. "You have told the truth." They headed for the door together.

Chapter 15

Veronica stood inside the palatial surroundings of Lord and Lady Mountford's home, wondering why on earth she'd agreed to join Lily at this dratted soiree. There was a surprising crush of people given the time of year. Had
no one
summered outside of the city? she wondered.

Sid came toward her, balancing two cool glasses of punch in his hands. "Chin up, Ronnie," he murmured, "the night is nearly over."

"Not near enough," Veronica replied. "And
where,
by the way, is Lily? Drat, Sid, but I left her in your care when I was pulled into some mindless conversation with Lord Mountford. Can that man talk of nothing but the falcons he keeps on his country estate? Gad, but you'd think it was a mark of honor to tame such a bird!"

"It is, Ronnie," Sidney Greville softly reminded her. "As for your sister, I am afraid I left her in the care of one Mr. Bartholomew Swann when she all but begged me to retrieve for her a glass of this too-sweet punch." He held up the two glasses he carried, looking perplexed as to what to do with the second glass after he'd pressed the first into one of Veronica's gloved hands.

"Devil take it, Sid. Just drink it, will you? Gulp it down if you must.
We need to find Lily."

"I doubt very much Swann would dare do anything untoward in
this
crush. I say. Ronnie, it's a veritable hothouse in here. Swann could hardly spirit her off to have his way with her."

Veronica frowned. "Really?" she muttered. "I wouldn't wager on that were I you, Sid." She glanced over the sea of faces surrounding them, her eyes narrowing as she spied the aged but still-lovely Lady Jersey. "There is Lady J, Sid. Let us move in her direction and see what we can learn."

"Zounds," he muttered, enduring the tight squeeze to Lady J's side. "I should have stayed home with Pam, begging off with a headache."

Veronica cast him a smile. "But you didn't, Sid, and for that I am grateful. I-I only wish Jul—" She stopped herself from saying more.

"Go on," Sidney pressed. "Say it, Ronnie. Say the words. You only wish your mysterious Mr. Julian had shown his face here tonight."

"Very well," Veronica admitted. "I do wish exactly that."

"Yes, well, fortunate for you he
hasn't; the man looked an absolute baggage, what with his swollen eye, cut lip, untidy clothes, and his long, shagged hair caught up in that ridiculous ribbon!"

A ribbon, Veronica knew, that she'd tucked into her reticule, unwilling to burn it as Julian had suggested. She had not wished to douse his memory in any way, and she'd waited all the day for some word from him via Shelton.

No word had come, however. And too soon, Veronica found her sister insisting she dress for the soiree, then shooing her out the door of Wrothram House ahead of her. The one and only bright spot of the day had been the fact that their father had not yet arrived home from Bath.

"Mr. Julian is—is not so terrible," Veronica said to Sidney. "In fact, he was... was quite chivalrous with me during our long journey home from Yorkshire."

"A beggar, to be sure," Sidney said, appalled. "He is after a healthy purse. Would like nothing better than to put up his heels in your father's fine house."

Veronica glanced sharply at Sidney. If the man could deem Wrothram House a fine one, he surely had no clue how truly miserable it was to reside there. But Julian had guessed such to be true. And right away, at that.

Veronica was glad when they finally reached Lady Jersey's side.

When at last confronted with the question of where the too-beautiful Lily might be, Lady J wrinkled her nose, sniffed haughtily... and then, besieged by a guilty conscience, suddenly took Veronica by the elbow and said, "My dearest Veronica, but don't you
know?"

"Know what?" Veronica asked.

"That your sister is
in love."

Veronica had deduced as much. "Lily is ever in love, Lady Jersey. She—"

"No, no," the lady interrupted. "I mean
truly
in love. Why she—she has gone off to Gretna Green with none other than Mr. Bartholomew Swann, and I for one think it a wonderfully romantic notion. Wish I'd done so myself many years ago instead of enduring all the fuss of a huge wedding. They left by the back terrace entrance just a moment ago. She said she'd wanted you to meet her intended, but couldn't get a word in edgewise what with Lord Mountford bending your ear about falcons and such... and oh, my, she... she just
hurried off.
Said to tell you good-bye and that she'd send word once she'd reached Gretna."

Veronica reacted as though she'd just been touched with a hot, blazing iron. Immediately her mind began calculating how far Lily and Swann could have gotten in this brief span of time.

She swung abruptly away from the lady, nearly knocking Sid over.

There came a commotion from the door to the ballroom just then. Everyone stilled, Veronica included. The many young ladies present drew in silent gasps, the gentlemen, knowing a worthy adversary when they saw one, held their breaths. And the liveried servant, back straight, his head tilted high, announced the arrival of Julian Masters, seventh Earl of Eve.

"Good heavens," breathed Sidney beside Veronica. "Is that
him?
"

Veronica, her attention captured by the tall, handsome lord, could only gape in amazement. Julian's dark clothes were perfection, his neckcloth intricately tied, his long locks shorn, his beard shaved away. His battered right eye did not appear so gruesome at the moment, nor did his cut lip with its telltale pink line that would soon become an earnest scar. At the moment, Julian appeared every inch a peer of the realm.

"I-I am not certain, Sid, but I believe it is Julian," she said.

"He
is the mysterious Lord Eve, the very same so many have been trying to find since his family was killed in a violent fire?"

Veronica ripped her gaze to Sidney.
"
What did you say?
"

"Surely you remember hearing of the ugly tale," Greville replied. "Half of Eve House burned to the ground last August on the very night of the sixth Earl of Eve's birthday celebration."

"No,
I-I don't recall. I was probably so involved in my own misfortunes that I-I glossed over the tragedy. Damn me," she whispered.

"Now, Ronnie dear, don't be saying such a thing. You're correct, y'know, about being so caught up in your own coil as to not take note of some fire in Hanover Square that claimed the lives of an entire family... all but the heir apparent, that is."