Free A Dangerous Courtship by Lindsay Randall Page B

door. And do know I'll not be allowing this private audience to go on too long."
    With that, Shelton let himself out, reluctantly shutting the door behind him.
    "Moody, ugly brute of a fellow, isn't he?" Julian commented.
    Veronica clicked her tongue, her gaze taking in Julian's bruised and battered face as she got to her feet. "And what did you expect? You look like the wrath of God. Indeed, it appears as though someone made a boxing bag of your face."
    "How perceptive of you. Someone, in fact, did just that, my lady. And the rest of my body, to boot."
    Veronica winced, both at his intended sarcasm and at the thought of the pain he must have been in, at the very thought of him being beaten.
    "Please, have a seat," she insisted.
    "Afraid I might swoon at your feet?"
    "What I am afraid of is that you might bleed a river if you don't soon sit down and let your heart still to a normal beat," Veronica said pragmatically. "Gracious, what happened? Your lip looks as though it was split open by a hammer—and your eye... it is swelling and turning purple even as we speak."
    Julian, not a little incensed, forcefully placed the bundle he held down atop the deal table. "What happened," he said darkly, "is this."
    Veronica swallowed past the sudden lump of dread in her throat as she looked down at the sheepskin-wrapped bundled. "My package?"
    "Aye."
    Veronica returned her gaze to his. "Julian, you—you were beaten because of this? But why... why would anyone do such a thing?"
    "You tell me, " he said. "I was nearly beaten to a pulp because I held that thing in my hand."
    Veronica felt pure fear flutter in her breast. For the first time since beginning her Venus Mission she was truly frightened at what she might have gotten herself into—and Julian, as well—by intercepting Lord Rathbone's delivery.
    She stared at Julian, at his cut and bruised face. "Are—are you saying that whoever left this at Fountains did this to you?"
    He shook his head, and a small wave of relief washed through Veronica. It was quickly swept away, however, when he said, "It was but a lad who left the package, my lady. He tucked it into a crevice of the stones and then ran. It was the two hulking brutes who'd followed him that did the deed."
    There had been someone following the messenger? Oh, dear. She and Pamela had never considered such a possibility when they'd hatched their wild scheme. Come to think of it, they had not considered much of anything other than getting Veronica to Fountains to look for a package to be placed there at the height of Midsummer's Eve. All in all, their Venus Mission lacked a great deal of forethought, Veronica decided miserably.
    And now this.
    Veronica looked again at Julian. A miserable feeling spread through the pit of her stomach at the sight of his battered features. She watched as he swayed once—a clue that he was not bearing up as well to his punishing beating as he'd like to think he was.
    Veronica instantly moved into action. "I must insist that you sit down, sir. In another moment, I fear you're going to topple like a fallen tree." She turned her chair about and indicated for him to sit.
    "The deuce I will," he muttered, glowering at her. "I want some answers, Lady Veronica. I want them now."
    "Yes, yes, of course you do. As do I," she said, trying her best to soothe his ire. "And we shall muddle through all the facts that we have, sir, in just a moment. But first you must sit down and tend to your cuts."
    "The devil I must! What I will do is—"
    He stopped his spate of words as Veronica, both hands against his shoulders, bodily forced him down atop the chair. "Sit down, Julian."
    He went down with a solid thud, the wood of the hard chair creaking beneath his weight.
    "I am not one of your hired hands to be ordered about," he muttered, glaring at her with his uninjured eye.
    "Of course you are not, sir," Veronica said. "And by the bye, I do not order my servants about." If anything, she thought to herself, it is