“This.” He picked up a stone the size of his fist. “That whirring. It wasn’t insects. It was a sling.”
“A sling?” Juliana rubbed her ribcage. “Who uses a sling nowadays?”
The driver put his pistol away. “Medieval, but effective.”
Brogan nodded agreement. He turned to Juliana. “It looks like you were right. Someone is trying to kill your father. And now they’re after you.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I think I was injured more by the rescue than I would have been by the rock.” Juliana rubbed her side as she gently stretched out her leg. Her knee hurt like the devil, and she knew she would be sporting several bruises the next day.
They were in the sitting area of Brogan’s apartments, he deeming the agency’s rooms no longer safe as the assailant knew their location. After grabbing her few things, he’d bundled her back in the carriage and directed the driver to go to his home taking as many twists and turns as possible to avoid being followed. It had worked so well even Juliana had no idea what part of London she was in.
Brogan held up the rock that had nearly taken her head off. It was the size of his palm.
All right, maybe her minor aches and pains were little compared to what she would be feeling had she been struck with that boulder.
She dug the pebble that had been harassing her for an hour from her slipper. She placed it on the side table. “The rock that saved me from a rock that would have killed me.” She sagged back onto the sofa. It was hard and the fabric worn, but she liked it. It reminded her a bit of Brogan. Rough on the outside but supportive. Safe.
A tremor rolled through her. Someone had tried to kill her. And unless Pickens had escaped Newgate, it was someone new. Unknown. And that was the scariest bit of all.
“I’ve never seen anyone use a sling before,” she said. “Is it difficult?”
Brogan strode to a cabinet and pulled out a small box. He came back to kneel before her. “Swinging a rock around your head isn’t hard. Directing the rock to fly where you aim it is the part that requires skill. Your assailant was very skilled.”
He gently took her hand and peeled down her torn glove. He blew on the reddened skin on the heel of her palm.
A quivery, fluttering sort of feeling started in her belly and worked outward. His head was bent to his task, and she had the strangest urge to run her fingers through his dark tousle of hair. He obviously didn’t spend his money on a barber. Or his lodgings. She glanced around the nearly bare room again. But she preferred him this way. Blunt. Direct. No pretensions.
“Perhaps you were the target.” Her voice came out a bit breathy, and she cleared her throat. He’d made it clear he didn’t want an affair. No use letting herself yearn for things she couldn’t have. “Perhaps the assailant wasn’t so skilled and the rock came toward me by mistake.”
Brogan wet a rag with a bottle of alcohol he pulled from the box and dabbed at her scraped skin. “Perhaps. But the simpler explanation is usually the right one. You thought your family was targeted; this appears to be proof.”
She winced at his ministrations. “I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I weren’t right. We need to get Pickens to talk to us. He’s our only lead.”
Brogan moved to her other hand. “He’ll talk. To me. Tomorrow, I’m taking you to the agency’s offices. You will remain under the guard of one of my associates at all time.”
“What?” She jerked upright, sucking in a hiss as her ribs protested. Pressing a hand to her side, she glared down at the infuriating man. “After all this, I thought we’d come to an understanding that we would work together. I don’t want to be hidden away.” She had never been one to be cossetted. Didn’t want to become only something Brogan needed to protect.
Didn’t want to become useless.
She had been given so many more opportunities than most women. It felt like a betrayal to her sex to sit back and allow someone else to resolve her problems.
He frowned at her and pushed her back on the sofa. He pressed his hands to her side and felt along her ribs. “I remember no such understanding. My job is to protect you. You’ll stay in the office.”
“Your job is to find the person responsible for the attacks against my father,” she reminded him. “And I’m the one who hired you. I get to dictate the terms of our relationship. Our professional relationship at least,” she muttered. He seemed to be the one in full control of their personal relationship, or their lack thereof.
“And I can quit anytime I want.” He pulled back, seemingly satisfied she had no broken bones. “I will if you don’t act responsibly and stay in the office.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. They would just see about that. He wouldn’t find it so easy to walk away from her case. As much as she annoyed him, he wasn’t the type of man who would leave her to her own devices, not when she was in danger. But as she’d learned, it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. She’d go to the office with him tomorrow… then leave after him and follow him to the prison.
“Where else do you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
He arched an eyebrow and waited. And waited. He truly was devilishly good at outlasting her patience.
She sighed. “Fine. My hip is a bit sore, and I scraped my knee when I fell. But nothing serious.”
