A Dangerous Courtship (To Woo an Heiress, Book 3)

by Randall, Lindsay

  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, h
ow do I find your lady's library? I'd like to deliver the, uh, parcel she desires. In person."

  Shelton let out another low whistle as he refastened the straps, then climbed down to the ground. "You're a bold one, you are. You'll have to get past that old bag Simms and every dour-faced footman in residence." But then he grinned, clearly relishing the idea of Julian daring to go against the wishes of the haughty butler. "You can enter by the servants' entrance. Come on, I'll tell you the lay of the place, and I'll even see to that fine bit of horseflesh of yours. Earl Wrothram spares nothing for the stabling of his many carriages and cattle in Town. I'll make sure the beast gets a good rubdown and is settled in nice and right."

  * * *

  Less than thirty minutes later, Julian moved through the cavernous downstairs hall of Wrothram House heading in what he hoped was the general direction of the library. He held the sheepskin bundle in one fist and his worn hat in the other. Just as he reached the large front hall, with its vaulted ceiling, marbled floor, and central curved staircase, he met with the butler.

  "Good heavens," Simms breathed, coming to a halt, his thin nostrils pinching together in disgust at sight of the bearded, long-haired Julian inside the house.

  "Hullo—Simms, isn't it?" said Julian, casting the man a wide grin. "The name's Julian, sir. I'm to have an audience with your lady in the library. Can't recall it's exact direction, though. Care to lead me there?"

  Simms appeared on the verge of apoplexy. "I shall be leading you nowhere but out," he said, thoroughly appalled at Julian's presence.

  It was at that exact moment that Veronica, having freshened up from her travels, came down the huge staircase, which curved upward to the floor above. She took one look at Julian speaking with her butler and her face went ashen.

  "My lady," began the bewigged Simms, his own face scarlet with anger, and his tone barely suppressing his disgust. "I know not what is afoot here, but I insist that this—this person be shown the door."

  Veronica sent Julian a sharp, reproving glance. To the butler, she said, "That won't be necessary, Simms. You see, I... he is—" The sounds of another carriage on the drive outside saved her from continuing. "Ah, that should be Lady Beven and Mr. Greville, Simms. Do hurry to greet them, and show them into the library."

  The butler stiffened, sniffing haughtily. "Such goings on, and with your father gone. He will not be pleased."

  "Simms, the door, if you would," Veronica replied, clearly fighting down a shudder of fear at mention of her father.

  Julian sobered at the sight of her reaction. He reminded himself that everything he did could land Veronica in a great deal of ugliness with her father. He'd decided miles ago that he very much wanted to meet with this fearsome earl—and not as Veronica's hired guard, but as the seventh Earl of Eve, as an equal peer of the realm... and as a man who could and would see that Veronica had a day of reckoning with the beastly father she so obviously feared. Julian wanted that very much.

  As all of these thoughts went through Julian's mind, Veronica finished descending the stairs and hurried toward him. "You," she whispered hotly as Simms reluctantly went to do her bidding, "come with me."

  She navigated him to the left, then down the long hall. Clearly just barely controlling her anger, she thrust open the huge doors to their right and issued him inside the library, which proved to be just as cheerless as the rest of house.

  "Have you no concern over what your behavior might bring down upon my ears?" she demanded once they were safely behind closed doors, out of earshot of any of the servants. She paced deep into the room, her hands clenching and unclenching into fists at her sides. "Really, Julian, I'd wanted to deal with your presence in this house in a slow and careful way. But what do I find? You standing toe to toe with, of all servants, Simms! Good heavens. Simms has been employed here for all of my father's life. Do you not realize what a horrid time I'll have of it when Simms bends my father's ear with how you presented yourself to him?"

  Julian allowed Veronica the opportunity to fully chastise him for his bold and stupid way of entering the house. She was correct. He'd bungled things and could only land her into deep waters where her father was concerned. Hoping to appease her, he allowed her to ring a peal over his head—which she did magnificently, Julian thought.

  As she paced, he watched how the sunlight streaming through the high windows bathed her angry features in a soft glow, how it made her inky locks glisten like dark satin in starlight, and how her violet eyes caught and reflected every nuance of those sunbeams.

  She appeared out of place in this forbidding library, which held not a lick of warmth in it, he decided, for she was all that was enchanting and passionate and true. She didn't belong in this monstrous house of ill will. She belonged in a great home built especially for her, one that was filled with light and air... with children who looked like her and smelled like her and who carried Julian's fine family name.

  It struck Julian then that he'd fallen in love with Veronica. Totally. Absolutely. It had happened the moment he'd viewed her at Fountains, he realized; his fate had been sealed the minute he'd touched his lips to hers.

  He wanted to build her that house she so deserved, wanted to fill it with love and laughter, their children and their happiness—a happiness she'd not had in her own childhood. He wanted to construct for her a home very much like the one in which he'd been raised.

  In contrast to the memory of Eve House, Wrothram House was too dark and ill proportioned. The library itself—which should have contained a cozy atmosphere where one could find respite from a hectic pace to flip through a favored book while sipping a brandy—seemed to Julian to hold the scent of must and unuse, and it had a distinct chill permeating it from every corner.

  Julian decided nothing could dispel the coolness, for it seemed to seep out of every floorboard. Though he'd just entered the place and hadn't seen more of it than the servants' entrance and a few halls, the grand dwelling had no warm coziness. It was simply a huge dwelling, with walls and windows, servants and fine furnishings, but no love. It wasn't a home, not by far. How difficult it must have been for the beautiful Veronica to move into this mausoleum of dreariness.

  At that thought, Julian moved toward her, depositing his hat on a side table near one of the chairs before the cold hearth as he went. He opened his hand and turned it palm up as he drew nearer to her. "Veronica," he said softly.

  "What?" she demanded, furious, pausing only momentarily in her tirade as she whirled to face him. When she saw how close he was, she clamped her mouth shut tight and took a wary step back.

  He smiled, loving the spark in her beautiful eyes, the daring in her brave but injured soul, and the lengths she would go for a friend.

  "I am sorry—that is what," he said simply. And then, reaching for her hand, he gently unclasped her fist and laid the package atop her palm. "Does this help lessen your anger in any way, Veronica?"

  She blew out a small, ragged breath, seemingly struggling against a sudden urge to cry. "Drat you, Julian. You... you can be so unexpectedly tender at times. I—" She let forth another small breath, then said, "You continually surprise me."

  "Do I? Pity that. What I want to do is please you, Veronica."

  She blinked, amazed at his confession, confused by it, too. "Julian... you—you must cease speaking to me in such a-a familiar way, especially now that we are at Wrothram House. You—you are here as my guard. Do try to remember that."

  "Aye," he whispered, tamping down the urge to gather her in his arms and hold her tight. "I shall try, my lady. But there may come a time, I hope, when you see me in a different light."

  "Please," she said. "Let us end this conversation. I-I am far too tired to think clearly. And when you stand so close to me, I..."

  "You what?" Julian prompted softly, moving even closer.

  Veronica's spunk returned, her eyes flashing, as she said, "I find you becoming all that is improper again." She took a healthy step away, clutching the bundle tight in her hand
s as she stared at him.

  Julian had expected as much. From what he'd learned from Shelton, Veronica had no reason whatsoever to trust the male species, and from his own behavior with her at Fountains, she'd not been given any other kind of a glimpse into the male mind.

  Julian wanted desperately to make amends for how he'd compromised her. What he wanted most of all though was to hold her, kiss her, and make her his own—though not while he was masquerading as a lowly guard, but when he assumed his true role as the seventh Earl of Eve.

  There came a jarring knock at the door, and then Simms, at Veronica's call, stepped inside, sending a baleful glance at Julian. "Lady Pamela Beven and the Honorable Sidney Greville," he announced, ushering the two into the room.

  "Pamela! Sid! Thank you for coming so quickly, and on such short notice," Veronica said, moving away from Julian to greet her friends.

  Simms lingered in the doorway. "Will you be wanting a tray prepared, my lady?" he asked, his tone indicating just how little he wanted to see about such a matter.

  "No, Simms. That will be all, thank you."

  "Very well, my lady," he droned, and then, with a final glare at Julian, he retreated, closing the doors behind him.

  Julian moved into the shadows of the room and watched as Veronica's friends gathered round her.

  The Honorable Sidney Greville was a handsome fellow, with dark blond hair and merry eyes. Julian frowned. The gentleman did not seem at all the sort capable of murder and mayhem. Could the package at Fountains have been intended for him? Had Veronica traveled all the way to Fountains for this man?

  Gad, it did not seem plausible.

  If not that, however, then for whom had Veronica spirited off to Yorkshire, risking both her coachman's and her father's ire?

  Julian decided to keep mum and find out, his gaze centering solely on Greville. In a stupidly manful frame of mind, Julian decided he could best the young buck blow for blow. For some reason—doubtless because Veronica viewed the man as a friend (and possibly more than just a friend)—Julian felt the uncommon urge to punch the man's lights out.