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“He’ll need the strongest we have watching him every minute so he doesn’t do something rash.”
She nodded. At least Jasper understood the reality of the situation. “And you will send word if Pen does die? Hop will need more than strong men stopping him from spilling his own blood. He’ll need me.”
“I’ll send word. I swear.”
The door of the study opened and Lord Hedrun stepped out into the hallway. “Jasper, we need to head back into London—I don’t have time for this. I should already be on the journey home.”
“Wait.” Jasper looked to Juliet with his eyebrows raised. “Juliet?”
Pulling her shoulders back, Juliet stifled a sigh and her gaze centered on the enormous Scot filling the hallway. He swallowed up any space he was in. “You would like to leave now, today? And the journey north will be made in haste?”
Lord Hedrun’s left eyebrow cocked at her words and he looked to Jasper. “Bad idea, Jasper. The lass is going to be there for one purpose, and I don’t trust this one. We go back to the Den and find another one.”
Jasper threw his palm up. “Except Juliet is the best. She is exactly what you want in front of the Earl. I am well versed with all the women and believe me—Juliet is the perfect person for the job. A proper English lady, through and through, you won’t find better than her.”
Lord Hedrun eyed her. “You can be docile?”
Good heavens, what did he think she was? An ogre? “I can be docile in front of your grandfather, if that is what you are asking. That is what you are asking for, are you not? A proper, docile, charming lady for your grandfather to approve of?”
“Aye.”
“Then I am the best.”
“Humble, too.”
She set a placid smile on her face. “Honest, Lord Hedrun.”
“It’s Evan.” He looked to Jasper, then looked to her, his grey eyes searching her face for a long breath, judging her soul. “Fine. You be the one.”
{ Chapter 2 }
“How long will the journey north to your home take?”
Evan glanced across the carriage at Juliet. She’d said very little to him in the last six hours beyond “thank you” as he’d helped her up and into the carriage at the Willows and after the short stop they’d mademidday to change out horses. Her mind was clearly elsewhere.
Fine with him, as long as she wasn’t this quiet when they arrived at Whetland Castle—at least in front of his grandfather.
His eyes ran upward from the brush of her dark blue skirts between his outstretched legs. She looked different than she had at the Den of Diablo. Still beautiful, but she sat with an air of innocence about her. Odd.
Quite impossible for the business she dealt in. It had to be the lack of rouge and that her dark blue eyes weren’t lined with charcoal. Her hair was smoother as well—not coiffed with elaborate curls—her auburn locks now swept away from her face in a simple, loose chignon.
That had to be it.
Her sweet angel face had been obscured by the markings common in a brothel. Take her out of the brothel into the light of the day and the air about her reeked of purity.
Jasper had been right to push this one upon him.
He cleared his throat. “The journey to Whetland Castle willtake a week and a half,as long as the roads hold well,” he said. “You’ve been quiet. You said you would see this through, are you rethinking that promise?”
She met his gaze. “No. I am planning.”
“Planning what?”
The carriage hit a rut and she absorbed the blow, her posture remaining impeccable, even on the rough of this road and the coach jostling. She looked small sitting across from him. Of course, almost all women looked small to him.
“How long I will be away,” she said. “Everything I will need to do once I return to London. I like my days scheduled.”
“Why bother? You won’t be back in London for near a month.”
