A Dangerous Courtship (4 page)

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Authors: Lindsay Randall

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General

BOOK: A Dangerous Courtship
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"Aye," came the reply, and then Shelton began calling for Veronica again.

She shuddered at how close the sound of his shouts were.

"Well?" her rescuer whispered.

"Well, what?" she whispered back.

"Are you not going to answer him?"

If the stranger had known anything about her life, he wouldn't ask such a thing. "And have him find me here, like this, with
you?"
Another shudder rippled through Veronica. "Heavens, no. Besides I—I have not yet accomplished what I set out to do here."

She scooched a little to the right, peering out just enough to see that the sun had fully set. Clear white moonlight began to flood the area.

"Blast," she whispered, knowing her search of the abbey was now totally ruined.

The light of Shelton's lamp could be seen through a crack in the masonry. He was standing directly across from them on the other side of the wall.

Her rescuer, believing Veronica to be vexed by the sight of Shelton's lamp and not the absence of daylight, motioned for her to be quiet.

Carefully, he lifted his body from hers, scooting out from beneath the lip of stone. He reached back, indicating for Veronica to take his hand.

Glancing once at Shelton's lamplight flickering in the cracks of stone, then at the dark-haired and clearly dangerous stranger, Veronica made her decision.

She took the man's hand.

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Making nary a sound, her rescuer led Veronica away from the spot where Shelton searched, guiding her round a bulk of stonework that cut them off completely from the pale yellow glow of her coachman's lamp. The rising moon illumined the area enough for Veronica to see a fall of tumbled rocks in front of and all around them.

"Now what?" she whispered.

"We go up," the stranger said. He tightened his large hand more firmly about hers, then reached out with his other to gain purchase on a jutting, jagged bit of rock above them. Getting a firm hold, he hauled himself upward, guiding Veronica along behind him.

Eventually, he gained the top of the huge pile.

"Take care, my lady, as some of these rocks are loose."

Even as he gave the warning, Veronica's right boot slipped on a tricky patch of stones. She began to slide downward, wincing at the sounds of rock shifting, then spilling down behind her.

"Blast," she muttered.

"I've got you," he whispered calmly, and indeed he did. In one smooth motion, he brought her up beside him, curling one strong arm about her waist when Veronica would have taken one step too many. "Careful," he breathed, motioning with a nod of his head to the area at her feet.

Veronica looked down, sucking in a breath. Below her was nothing but a black void of empty space. To their left rose one of Fountains' enormous walls. She hadn't realized they'd climbed so high, nor that he'd led them to the lip of a dangerous edge of stone.

"Oh," she gasped, instinctively curling her gloved fingers into the fabric of his worn shirt and holding on tightly. She turned her face to his, blinking at the sight of his dark visage now bathed in moonlight. Once again their bodies were chest to chest, and once again Veronica could feel the steady beat of his heart, the lean, corded muscle of him.

"Wh-what now, sir?" she managed to ask.

The look in his eyes was unreadable, for they were as black as the sky above them. "That all depends," he murmured.

"Depends? Depends on—on what, sir?" Veronica hated that the sound of his husky voice arrowed directly into the deepest, most feminine parts of her body—and devil take it but she was wondering if he was thinking to kiss her again... or more.

"Depends, my lady, on whether or not you wish to be led back to your horse or to remain longer within the walls of Fountains."

"Oh." Veronica felt her cheeks heat at where her thoughts had traveled. "Of—of course."

"Given that the party now in search of you will discover your presence once you return to your mount, and in view of the fact that you obviously came to Fountains for a reason, I take it you'll choose to linger longer within these ruins."

Veronica nodded, loosening her hold on his shirt and taking a careful step away from him. "Yes. Well. You are quite correct, sir. I am not yet ready to leave the abbey. Indeed, I had hoped to have a chance to—to look about the place, but—"

"'Look about the place?' Come now, Lady Veronica. Don't you mean you wished to
search
it?"

Veronica frowned. "Yes, well, whatever. As I was saying, sir—" She paused as he pointed to their right, indicating for Veronica to head along the edge of rock. She did just that while she continued her explanation. "As I was saying, given the hour of my arrival in Ripon and my difficulty in finally reaching Fountains, I'd lost most of the day, and now... well... you know the rest of the story, sir."

"Do I? Hmmm. I wonder. But it is the beginning of this story that intrigues me at the moment." With alarming agility he navigated his way around and in front of Veronica. "Trust me when I say I intend to hear the full telling of it before this night is through, my lady."

Veronica swallowed, not liking the portentous note of his voice. "Sir?"

"This way, Lady Veronica."

With a familiarity that was unsettling, he took her hand once again in his, leading the way down a slope in the rocks.

"Now see here, sir," Veronica said, struggling over a difficult bit of slippery rock, but tugging her hand free of his nonetheless. "I suddenly do not like the tone of your voice. Though I am grateful for your aid thus far, I feel it gives you no license to demand full-blown explanations from me."

"No?" he inquired, allowing her her head and not reaching for her hand. He continued downward, letting her follow as she would.

"Absolutely not. In fact, sir, if you would but lead me to solid ground and the nearest opening in this pile of ruins, I will be quite all right," she said, with more bravado than she felt.

"Oh you will, will you?"

"Yes."

"Alone."

"Yes, alone."

"In the dark."

"It isn't
all
that dark," Veronica pointed out. "The moon is nearly fully risen and—"

"Which, by the bye," he cut in, a bit too chattily for Veronica's comfort, "will set the dogs to prowling. They've a nasty habit of that. Like to hunt by moonlight. Seem to have already taken a fancy to your scent, I might add."

Veronica frowned. He was now a good few feet farther down than she. "If this is your unsubtle way of trying to frighten me, sir, I'll have you know I am not a female given to hysterics."

"Aye, I've noticed."

"Nor am I a child."

He glanced back up at her. "I've noted that, too, Lady Veronica."

She decided to ignore that statement. She focused instead on the uneven stones beneath her. "I do believe climbing to the top was easier than getting down."

"This part of abbey is more ruinous than most," he said. "We're now coming closer to the river."

He was moving faster than Veronica. She found it difficult to keep up, for her boots kept slipping and sliding. "Drat," she muttered.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes, fine. No, don't stop. It's just these boots of mine.
Blast.
I'd thought them suitable enough for my mission here, but then again I did not think to be navigating such treacherous falls of stones. Oh!" she gasped, losing her footing. She slid several feet before catching herself.

"Wait!" her rescuer ordered, growing impatient. "Don't move. I'll come back up and carry you down if I must."

"That will hardly be necessary," Veronica said, managing to retrieve her balance. "I am quite capable, sir, of getting my own self down from here."

But in her haste to hurry and get moving before he dared to carry her bodily down the slope, Veronica again felt her feet slide out from under her.

She wasn't able to catch herself this time. It seemed that every rock beneath her had merely been resting on the slope and was not anchored in any way.

Veronica went skating down, the skirts of her riding habit caught beneath her and baring the length of her legs.

One sharp, jagged bit of rock, though, proved solidly in place, scraping away some of the skin of her left leg as she slid alongside it.

Biting back a cry of pain, Veronica latched on to it, finally coming to a halt.

Her rescuer was instantly beside her, kneeling down. He had full view of her stockinged legs, the left stocking ripped and showing her pale ivory skin.

Veronica's face flamed with embarrassment.
"Drat,"
she muttered, thoroughly appalled at her predicament. She tugged her skirts out from beneath her, quickly trying to smooth them down.

"Drat, indeed," the stranger said, stilling her hands when she would have covered herself. His long, strong fingers skimmed gently down her thigh, stopping just at the point where the rock had left its mark. "You are bleeding, my lady."

"'Tis n-nothing serious, I'm certain. I-I barely feel any pain."

The truth of the matter was, Veronica felt nothing but his hand atop her bared skin. Heaven help her, but it was so large and strong
and warm.

Her rescuer seemed not to notice the effect his touch had on her. He was inspecting her injury, his black brows drawing together in a frown she was coming to know all too well.

"It looks to be a nasty cut," he said, surveying the area of her thigh with a critical eye. "It is bleeding a good bit. You might even need a stitch or two to close it."

Veronica's lashes flew up as she turned her attention from his strong, tanned hand to his handsome face. "D-do you think so? I haven't the time for such a bother."

"Well, my lady, it is a bother you have, and whether you like it or not, you'll have to take the time to tend to it I'll lead you straight to your mount and accompany you back to—"

"Really, sir," Veronica cut in, aghast that he was suggesting she leave the ruins. "That is quite out of the question. I must have a look about Fountains. I cannot go back to the village just yet as I have to complete—"

"Bloody hell."
It was he who cut in this time. And before Veronica could say or do anything to stop him, he brushed down her skirts, slid one arm beneath her knees, put the other firmly about her waist, then got to his feet holding her aloft in one sweeping movement.

"Sir,"
Veronica gasped. "I insist that you put me
down."

"Insist all you like."

He navigated the last portions of the fall of stones like some ancient god of old thundering down from the very heights of Mt. Olympus.

"Really,
"Veronica said, having no choice but to wrap her arms about his neck lest she be banged about in his hold like a limp rag doll. "This is highly embarrassing. I am very capable of walking on my own."

"The devil you are."

They were on solid ground once again, but he did not set her down, nor did he slow his pace any. Veronica held on tighter as he effortlessly carried her across what she soon realized was an expanse of sheep-nubbed grass adorned here and there with a thin tracery of fog. Moonlight bathed the area, making the sod look rich green in color.

She looked behind them, seeing the massive walls of Fountains jut high above. Somehow, the stranger had led her in a twisting path far away from Shelton... and somewhere amid those ruins were her coachman and a companion, doubtless still searching for her in earnest.

Veronica pressed down a shudder, her arms, seemingly of their own volition, curling even more snugly about her rescuer's neck.

He glanced at her, lifting one brow.

Veronica looked away quickly.

It occurred to her that she felt absurdly safe and protected in this stranger's arms. Though she'd met him barely an hour ago it seemed she'd known him far longer than that. Even the pure, masculine scent of him was becoming familiar.

She chanced a peek at him beneath her lashes. His gaze was straight ahead, because they'd left the grass behind and were approaching yet another piece of stonework. Veronica took the time to study his profile. The fierceness in his features that had at first alarmed her when he'd saved her from the wild dogs seemed now to have been washed away by the moon's glow.

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