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

by Randall, Lindsay

  Instead of doing such a thing, however, he schooled his raging thoughts into line and glanced at the man's sister.

  Lady Pamela Beven was a petite young woman with flaxen hair and blue eyes—and the very one, or so Shelton claimed, to be betrothed to Lord Darius Rathbone.

  Rathbone.

  It was a name Julian had not heard in nearly three years. In fact, the last he'd seen Rathbone had been on the Gold Coast of Africa, many months after the discovery of the huge diamond Julian had dubbed the Eve Diamond.

  Rathbone, like many others in the small British trading settlement, had been in awe of the stone. They'd shared some stories around a campfire, and in the morning Rathbone, with his male traveling companion and friend—a Mr. Bartholomew Swann, who had also taken a great interest in the diamond—had embarked on their return journey to England with their huge entourage.

  That had been the first and last time Julian had ever seen the man. Could Rathbone have been the one to orchestrate the murder of Julian's family—and all for the Eve Diamond?

  Blazes, but such did not seem possible. Rathbone, after all, was not a man in dun territory—or, at least, thought Julian, he hadn't been during that long-ago night in Africa. At that time, Rathbone had been traveling abroad, given to flights of fancy and thinking himself some sort of explorer—though he was but one in the most pampered sense. Julian, being a seasoned traveler abroad, had thought that the minute he'd met the man.

  Given that very few people (only his family, actually) had known that Julian was coming to London to help celebrate his father's natal day last August, and that he was bringing the Eve Diamond with him, how could Rathbone have even orchestrated such a scheme to set explosives at his family's Hanover Square residence, then swipe the chess set—diamond and all—while flames engulfed the place? It made no sense.

  Of course, none of what had happened that horrible night made sense, Julian thought now, watching Lady Pamela and her brother sharing warm hugs with Veronica.

  "Ronnie," breathed Lady Pamela, stepping out of Veronica's hold. "Is that Rathbone's package in your hand?"

  Veronica nodded.

  "Well? What is inside, love. Have you opened it?"

  Julian watched as Veronica shook her head. "No, of course I haven't, Pam. It wasn't mine to open."

  Julian's senses reached a fever height. Here, at long last, he'd finally learned for whom that unlucky thing was intended: Rathbone.

  Veronica, seeming to read his thoughts, finally glanced back at him.

  Lady Pamela's and her brother's gazes followed suit.

  "Oh, my," breathed Lady Pamela. "Who is this?" she asked Veronica.

  Julian decided it was time to step back into the light of the room.

  "The name is Julian, Lady Beven," he said, sketching a bow. He nodded to her brother. "Sir."

  Both Lady Pamela and Greville gaped at Julian, taking in his battered features, travel-stained garb, close-cropped beard, and long hair.

  It was Sidney who spoke first. "I say, Ronnie. What ever did you discover at that wild place called Fountains?"

  "A great deal," Veronica murmured, casting Julian a pained expression at her friends' response to him. "Please," she said, turning back to Pamela and Sidney, and motioning toward the desk of the library, with its three wing-backed chairs before it, "have a seat. I've much to tell."

  Both nodded and then quickly sat.

  Veronica set the fleece-wrapped bundle on the desk before them. "This is indeed the delivery we were after. But I must tell you, Pam, there was trouble in getting the thing."

  Sidney scowled. "B'God, if any scoundrel set upon you, Ronnie, I want to know about it. He'll have me to deal with, I swear."

  Julian let forth a small grunt of sound. "Ah, if only you had proved so gallant when the lady first set off on her mission, sir."

  "Julian, please," Veronica said, trying to cut him off before he began what she could see would be a tirade.

  "Please what, Veronica?" Julian demanded. "Absolve him of any guilt he might be feeling at leaving you to go the long road to Yorkshire alone, for the nasty fate that could have befallen you had you been the one to reach for that bloody package? I think not."

  Julian moved toward Sidney, leaning low over the man's chair and showing fully his ravaged face. "This," he said, indicating his swollen eye and cut lip, "is what awaited Lady Veronica at that abbey."

  Lady Pamela gave a startled gasp.

  Sidney gripped the arms of the chair he sat upon, his mouth forming a straight white line. "Good heavens," he whispered, then looked at Veronica, his heart in his eyes. "I'd have gone with you on your journey, Ronnie. You know that. All you had to do was but ask."

  Veronica, clearly furious that Julian had made such a dramatic display, stepped forward to smile reassuringly at Sidney. "Yes, Sid, I do know that, and I bless you for it and—"

  "You bless him?" Julian thundered, not a little jealous at the way she gazed at the man. He straightened, feeing her. "Bloody hell, Veronica, you ought to be castigating the man. You ought to be—"

  "Julian," Veronica cut in. "That is enough."

  Before he knew what she was about, he felt her hands pressing against his shoulders as she pushed him back and down atop the third chair near the desk.

  "Sit," she ordered, as though he was but a sheep dog at her heel.

  "Devil take it, Veronica. I will have my say about this man and his empty phrases and—"

  "And you will hush," she added, her tone brooking no argument. "Really, Julian, this is far and above any crude outburst I expected from you! Now do let me tell this muddled tale."

  Veronica, incensed, paced to the side of the desk, leaned her body against it, and began to describe in graphic but brief detail her journey to Fountains and how Julian was set upon by two miscreants.

  She finished by adding, "And the men who hurt Julian, Pam, were not after the package, but rather were more interested in who would retrieve it."

  "Oh, my," whispered Lady Pamela, casting Julian an apologetic glance. She turned her attention back to Veronica. "All of this does bode ill for my intended, just as I'd feared. Oh, dear. Ronnie love, please open the bundle... l-let us see what is inside."

  Veronica surprised them all by shaking her head. "I have been thinking on this, Pam. I believe the best course of action is for you to take this and go before Lord Rathbone. Tell him the truth. Tell him about our foolish mission, but convey to him that it was out of your love and deep concern about his welfare that you even dreamed up the idea of intercepting a delivery meant for him."

  "But I couldn't!" she gasped. "He—he would then know I had been stirring into his affairs!"

  "Of course he would," said Veronica, "and his reaction to that would be a telling marker as to whether or not he is worthy of your devotion—and that, after all, was the entire purpose to this Venus Mission, was it not, Pam?"

  "Yes, yes, but still..." Lady Pamela's words trailed off, indicating clearly she had no intention of doing such a thing.

  Veronica frowned at her friend. "Really, Pam, how you can think to marry a man with whom you cannot be truthful is beyond me."

  "I can be truthful with him, Ronnie—just... just not about this. For goodness' sakes, just look at Mr. Julian and what happened to him when he found the bundle! Darius is doubtless involved in something awful!"

  "Precisely, Pam, and you need to learn what that something is before you marry the man and make his troubles your own."

  "Oh, bother it all, Ronnie, if you won't unwrap the thing, then I will!" Lady Pamela quickly reached for the sheepskin bundle, undid the twine, and at the last revealed the black ivory chess piece with its gold base and note tucked inside.

  "Return the diamond and chess set?" she said once they'd found and read the note. "What is that? Could it all be some treasured thing in Darius's family, do you think? Is it possible he's being blackmailed?"

  "Or more likely he is in possession of someone else's property," Sidney muttered after con
templating the note and his sister's question.

  "Never say such a thing, Sid!" Lady Pamela cried.

  Julian held perfectly still. It took every ounce of his willpower not to react, not to get to his feet and tell Veronica that he was in fact the seventh Earl of Eve and that the chess piece they all looked upon in shocked curiosity was one he'd helped design... that the Eve Diamond had been his final gift to a man he'd loved with all his heart.

  But he dared not do any of that. Not yet. Someone had intended to murder him along with his family. To allow Veronica to know his true identity would place her in danger, draw her more fully into the coil of the diamond and the chess set than she already was. And so he kept quiet, though the deed cost him greatly.

  "It appears," said Veronica quietly to Pamela, "that Lord Rathbone must possess this diamond and chess set, regardless of who the previous owner may have been... and whoever hired those miscreants intends to retrieve it by whatever means possible."

  Lady Pamela pulled a small kerchief from her pocket, pressing it against her flushed face. "Oh, Ronnie," she whispered, "I'd not expected any of this. Though I'd suspected Darius was involved in something sinister, I-I never thought it might be something of his own making. I cannot believe Rathbone is guilty of—of taking another's property, if indeed that is even the case."

  "You need to take this to him. Confront him," Veronica said.

  "No, I cannot." Lady Pamela got quickly to her feet. "I am sorry I ever urged you to take on this mission, Ronnie. I want you to destroy everything on this table and—and never whisper a word of this to anyone! I must trust that Darius will—will take care of whatever it is he's involved in and come to no harm." She ripped her gaze to her brother. "I wish to go home now, Sid."

  Sidney rose from his chair, as did Julian and Veronica. "Pam, please, only think what you are saying," he implored his sister. "You cannot simply sweep this under the rug. On that table is something intended for Rathbone—a delivery he never received. Surely he will wonder what came of it."

  "I don't care, Sid. Do you hear? Darius will deal with it in his own fashion, I am sure—just as he will deal with whatever else he has enmeshed himself in."

  "But what of this evening?" Greville demanded. "You are to attend Lord and Lady Mountford's soiree with him. Perhaps tonight you will find the opportunity to ask him about this, to learn what it is he is involved—"

  "No!" she exclaimed, horrified at the thought. "I-I won't be going. I shall beg off with a headache, which isn't far from the truth. I do feel a headache coming on. Please, Sid, just take me home."

  She was already heading for the door.

  Sidney glanced at Veronica, telling her with a look how sorry he was for everything. "Do you want me to take the chess piece and the note, Ronnie? I'll go to Rathbone myself, though I won't involve you or Pam in the conversation. I'll—"

  "That won't be necessary," Julian cut in, surprising both Veronica and Greville. "I'll see to the matter."

  "Julian," Veronica said, "we hardly expect—"

  "You heard me, my lady," he interrupted her, his tone dark and foreboding, his black gaze centered solely on Greville.

  The man wisely took that as his cue to leave. To Veronica, he said, "I shall talk with Pam, then send word to you. Thank you for all of your help, Ronnie."

  Veronica sent a warning glance at Julian. Then, with a smile for Greville, she put her arm through the crook of his, saying, "I'll see you out, Sid."

  Julian let the lot of them go. Once the door was shut, he sank back down into the chair and stared moodily at the chess piece. It wasn't Greville for whom the piece was intended, but Rathbone. Still, Julian felt little gladness at the discovery. At the moment, he had something else on his mind.

  Some moments later, Veronica returned.

  "Are you in love with Sidney Greville?" Julian asked bluntly.

  Chapter 13

  Veronica came to a breathless halt just inside the library doors. Julian had leaned back into the cushions of the chair upon which he sat, his long legs sprawled out in front of him, his gaze a dark mask as he stared, unseeing, at the sheepskin, chess piece, and note atop the desk.

  For the barest of moments Veronica considered passing his question off as being too personal—but in the next instant knew she would be doing no such thing. Her own words to Pam, about being truthful with a man she loved, rang loud in her ears.

  And Veronica did love Julian. She knew that now; she had known it to be so, perhaps, when he'd first kissed her at the abbey.

  Quietly, she moved deeper into the room, not pausing until she reached the side of his chair. "No, Julian," she whispered. "I am not in love with Sidney. If you must know, I-I have never loved any man." Until I met you, she thought.

  Julian glanced up at her, eyes heavy lidded, his darkling gaze burning into hers. "You appeared quite enamored of him... and he of you."

  "He is my friend. He and Pamela both." Veronica drew in a breath, sighed, then moved to the chair beside him, settling down atop its seat. "Do you remember what I told you about my sister, Julian?"

  "Aye, I do."

  "When I first came to London, I-I had not yet had my formal introduction to Society. I was not able to accompany Lily during her many invitations, and my father only rarely did, choosing instead to allow Lady Jersey or some other matron to keep a watchful eye on her. Though Lady Jersey is a dear woman, I fear she tended to get caught up in her own conversations and on more than one occasion Lily was led into some dark garden or onto a terrace by some less-than-honorable gentleman." She looked at Julian fully. "If not for Sid and Pamela, I fear my sister would have been—would have found her reputation tarnished. I owe them a great deal for helping to watch over her.

  "Though I know Pamela can be flighty and—and not always prudent in her choices, Julian, she has been a godsend. That is why I went to Yorkshire on her behalf. And I am not in love with Sidney. Though he is kind and sweet, he—he does not stir to life in me feelings of... of excitement," Veronica whispered, her cheeks heating with a sudden blush, "or even feelings of desire."

  There followed a long moment of silence as Julian's black gaze devoured her. "And have you ever been stirred, my lady," he finally asked, so quietly that she had to strain to hear, "by feelings of excitement... of desire?"

  Their conversation was threading into dangerous territory, Veronica knew, but she did not care, for had that not always been the way of it with the two of them? Julian had represented himself as a dangerous stranger when she first encountered him, and from the moment when she'd allowed him to touch and kiss her, and later when she'd placed her hand in his and let him lead her away from her coachman, Veronica had been thrust into a new world—one where she would no longer be ruled by just her brain, but by her heart as well. Julian had opened the floodgates of her heart and now there was no turning back. Only Julian could ask such questions of her... and only for Julian would she answer them.

  Veronica nodded, her heart banging a rapid beat in her breast. "Yes, Julian," she breathed, totally honest now, knowing she could never be anything but honest with this man. "Th-there was one time when I felt such stirring of emotions. Recently, as a matter of fact."

  "Oh?" he murmured, gazing deeply into her eyes, so deeply that Veronica felt as though they were becoming one being. "When was that?" he urged, though she guessed he knew the answer.

  "At Fountains. And at the inn in Ripon. I felt such feelings then."

  Julian leaned forward in his chair, reaching out with one hand and touching the underside of Veronica's chin with the crook of his forefinger. "Ah, my lady," he whispered, "I felt the same. For whatever it is worth to you... I felt the same."

  He opened his palm, gently sliding his hand back, his fingers softly caressing her jawline, then the shell of her ear. Veronica closed her eyes, pressing her face against his wrist, a soft breath escaping her as he moved his hand to gently caress the side of her neck. Incredible sensations filled her. His hand was rough and warm, just
as she remembered it, and though scandalous it was for a lady to be allowing her employee, or any man not her intended, to touch her so intimately, Veronica did not care.

  Whatever Julian truly was—guard, riverkeep, or some dangerous stranger who lived life on a sword's edge—Veronica knew deep, deep in her soul that here was a man she could trust... with her life, with her heart.

  Slowly, she lifted her lashes, not at all surprised to see his face very close to her own. "Julian," she whispered, his name a caress.

  He curved his hand against the back of her neck, his fingers smoothing into the upsweep of her hair. "I want to kiss you, Veronica. I wanted to do so that night at the inn, and every mile we travelled back to London."

  "Oh, Julian..."

  "So if my lady has other orders for her guard," he murmured, his gaze smoky with desire, "she'd best give them now."

  Veronica smiled tremulously, lifting one hand and gently tracing a trembling finger over his lower lip. "No other orders, Julian," she whispered, moving her finger to the tender cut of his top lip.

  He smiled, then lifted his other hand, covering hers and pressing a kiss to the pad of her finger. "You are so soft," he murmured against her forefinger, "so beautiful." He lifted his gaze, drawing her to him with a gentle pressure at the back of her neck.

  Veronica let him, her eyes drifting half shut as he whispered a series of soft kisses over her mouth, teasing each corner of her lips, his close-cropped beard feeling wonderfully rough against her skin.

  She waited for him to ravish her mouth with a deep, long kiss as he had done at Fountains. She wanted him to do so. Shockingly enough, she wanted to feel him inside her, to have him pull her body to his in a tight, heated embrace. But he did not. Somewhere along the road to London her dangerous stranger had become more civilized, and now he was torturing her with tenderness and feathery kisses that held a hint of the fiery passion she knew to be within him.

  "My lovely lady," he murmured, "you deserve so much." He kissed her cheek, the bridge of her nose. "You deserve a fine home of your own—one that complements your beauty and does not threaten to swallow it in darkness as this one. Once I decipher the puzzle of the chess piece and note—"