Free A Dangerous Courtship by Lindsay Randall

layer of sheepskin, and felt a thud of dread drop to the pit of his stomach.
    Inside the skin lay a familiar-looking chess piece. A horseman, to be exact, fashioned of black ivory.
    Julian drew in a deep breath.
    Ten months ago he'd returned from the coast of Africa, bearing with him a black ivory chess set, each piece based with pure gold, for his father, the sixth Earl of Eve. Tucked inside one of those pieces had been a perfectly cut blue diamond of extraordinary size—a diamond Julian himself had carved out of the earth and named the Eve Diamond. He'd taken it back to London as a gift for his beloved father, in celebration of the man's forty-fifth natal day celebration.
    But an explosion had rocked his family's house in Hanover Square that night, killing the earl, Julian's mother, and his young sister, Suzanne, and leaving Julian with his sense of hearing gone.
    It had been his manservant, Garn, who had dragged Julian out of the flaming structure, saving his life. And it had been Garn who, several weeks later after Julian's bruises had healed but it seemed apparent his hearing would not be restored as easily, had reluctantly agreed to leave Julian at the ruins of Fountains, a place where Julian and his parents had come when he was young—a place where Julian thought he might be able to heal... and if not that, to rot.
    It all felt like a lifetime ago, yet the pain of that night had never left Julian and never would.
    He turned the chess piece in his hand, noting a knick in the ivory near the gold base. Someone had pried the base off at one time. Julian did so now. Tucked inside was a piece of vellum, with a note scrawled across it.
    I want the diamond and the chess set. Deliver them to me or suffer the consequences.
    Julian's entire body felt suddenly as though it had been frozen on ice. Whoever had hired Nate and Scruggs through an intricate chain of lowly messengers clearly knew about Julian, the Eve Diamond, and the chess set he'd brought back to England... and, more importantly, doubtless had a connection to the explosion in Hanover Square that had claimed the lives of his beloved family. B'God, but they would pay. And dearly. Julian shoved the note back inside the horseman, reaffixed the gold base, then bundled it all with the fleecy sheepskin and twine.
    Eyes filled with a burning light, he shoved the bundle into his saddle pouch, then swung his lean body astride his powerful horse. He was eager to reach the Red Lion Inn and one Lady Veronica. The beautiful lady had a lot of explaining to do.
    And Julian would, he vowed, get the full truth from her this time.

 
     
     
    Chapter 7

     
    Veronica had just pushed away a small plate of spicy Yorkshire parkin when she thought she heard some new commotion outside the coffee room door.
    "M'lady," said Nettie, oblivious to the noise that had gained her lady's attention, "if you not be wantin' 'at slice of parkin, I'll gladly take it."
    "What? Oh. Yes, of course. Help yourself, Nettie. Please, do," said a distracted Veronica, turning in her chair and straining to make out the voices beyond the door. But the din within the taproom and outside the inn had grown to such a clatter that Veronica could not separate one set of voices from another.
    Perhaps what she'd heard had been nothing more than Shelton conversing with one of the revelers who'd chanced to walk by.
    Blast, but she was on edge, what with wondering whether or not anyone had gone to Fountains to deliver the packet, or if Julian had begun a search for it—or if he was now finding his way to her, through the darkness the guide, Drubbs, had said he preferred over daylight.
    Veronica turned back to her maid and tried to relax as she watched the girl begin a serious endeavor to devour the slice of too-spicy parkin. After the huge meal just served it was a wonder her maid had room for more. The girl had eaten not only a large serving of rabbit pie and Yorkshire pudding, but had also partaken of a healthy serving of