From that first meeting, that first conversation in the garden, she had felt the need to put his welfare before her own. One did not do that for a stranger.
“But now we are better acquainted,” she said, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “Now, we are friends and confidantes.” At dinner they spoke with ease, discussed matters close to their hearts—when he was not questioning her about Ambrose and Hannah. “Which is why there is something I must tell you.”
He pulled away. The sudden uncertainty in his eyes gave her a rare glimpse of his vulnerability. “From your tone, I suspect it is something unpleasant.”
She nodded. “I didn’t mention it before because I believed they were idle threats.”
“Threats!” He straightened as a dark expression replaced one of uncertainty. “Damnation. Does this have something to do with your father?”
Juliet swallowed deeply. “He wants me to act as his spy, wants me to find the letters Hannah wrote to your brother.” Oh, her shoulders felt lighter having relieved herself of the heavy burden.
“His spy?” After a second’s pause, Devlin gritted his teeth and muttered a curse. “Whatever she wrote must be damning.”
“We both know she can be cruel and vindictive.”
“Evil is a more accurate word.”
Juliet touched his sleeve. “I had no intention of carrying out
his request. You must believe me.”
He glanced at her hand, met her gaze. “I do.”
“But it seems my father’s need to protect Hannah has affected all sense and logic. While out with Rufus I was accosted by a thug, by the man hired—”
“Accosted?” He did not sound at all pleased. “A man attacked you?” Wild, obsidian eyes scanned every inch of her face and body.
“Mr Biggs threatened to beat me unless I find the letters my father seeks.” Juliet rubbed the spot on her cheek where she could still feel the imprint of the rogue’s grimy fingers.
A growl resonated in the back of Devlin’s throat. It was as if the devil had burst up from his fiery grave ready to torch those who dared defy him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me right away? Where is he? When I find him, I’ll bloody well kill him.”
“Rufus chased him off.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“A little.”
“More than you want to admit?”
“Yes.”
He dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “You’re not to wander the grounds alone, not until I’ve dealt with this matter. First thing in the morning we must search the house for the damn letters, learn what the hell your sister wrote.” He placed a comforting hand on her upper arm. “Good God, he must have scared you out of your wits, else you would not be trembling.”
“It is for you I fear.”
“Me?” he said incredulously. “Do I look like a man incapable of warding off an attack?”
Panic took hold again. “Mr Biggs said that if I fail to cooperate he will make sure you have an accident, cut the straps on your saddle, frighten your horse.”
Devlin’s eyes turned inquisitive rather than angry. “And I ask you again. Your fear is for me and not yourself?”
“Of course it’s for you. One hears of such accidents all the time. Strong, virile men thrown from their horses for no apparent reason.”
For a moment he simply stared at her, those penetrating eyes warm and caressing as they moved over her face. Without warning, he pulled her into an embrace and wrapped his strong arms around her.
“Then allow me to put your mind at rest. It would take more than vicious threats to bring me down.” The heat from his body penetrated her clothes. “And men who threaten women are not really men to fear at all.”
“You’re not worried?”