For not wanting anything to do with her, the blasted man sure did love to grab her and toss her about at will.
The door to the private card room slammed shut in front of her.
Jerking her arm from his grip, she spun to him. “How did you even get in here, Theo?”
He shrugged, apologetic grin in place. “I slipped in the back past two of Logan’s new guards. It’s hard to deny entrance to someone you don’t know the appearance of.”
Her fists went onto her hips as she glared at him. “I will have to speak to Logan about how he trained those new guards.”
“So I was not wrong.” His grin faltered. “You would have denied me entrance.”
“I would not have bothered—but Cass, Logan—well, I cannot account for their actions.”
“Logan? What did you tell Logan of us?”
“Nothing.” Her hand flicked out to wave in-between them. “It is not that hard to discern, Theo. He knows I was embarrassingly happy when you were around, and then…not so much.”
The grin retuned full force to his face. “You look beautiful, Vee. The dress matches the violet in your eyes.”
Her head snapped back. “No… No…”
What was he even thinking? To accost and then compliment her after how he tossed her aside weeks ago?
She shook her head, sighing, weariness hitting her. “What are you doing here, Theo? Why do you insist on hovering? It has been a long night and I am exhausted.”
He took a step toward her, his hands lifting, moving toward her upper arms, but he paused before grabbing them when he saw she was ready to spring away. Instead, his palms flipped to her, both pleading and calming. “Hovering is as close as I have dared to come to you. Believe me, Vee, I have been trying to get you alone since seeing you on Bond Street.”
Her head cocked to the side, her right eyebrow rising in suspicion. “You have? Why?”
“Because I cannot stay away, Vee.” The weight of his words transformed his face, his light blue eyes suddenly fierce, the line of his jaw tensing. His hands inched forward, slipping onto her shoulders. The straps of her gown not offering nearly enough cover, his palms instantly heated the bare skin he touched.
Violet stiffened, her arms wrapping around her torso as she took a step backward. He stepped forward with her, not letting her escape.
She flipped a hand upward, setting it on his chest to stop him. “You cannot do this to me, Theo—please—not tonight, of all nights. The gala is finally over and I should be celebrating downstairs with Cass and Logan and the guards and the dealers and the staff—people who like me, love me. Want me.”
“I want you.” The line of his hard-set jaw flickered. “Never mistake that, Vee.”
“Never mistake that?” A laugh, half a scoff, half a gurgle, bubbled from her throat. “I have been a fool to your words before, Theo. I don’t intend to repeat it.”
His head dropped forward, yet he didn’t release her shoulders. “I made a mistake, Vee. I convinced myself that if I left you—you would be the better for it. Safe. Happy in a way that you could never be with me. Because I will drag you down. Because you deserve so much more than what I can offer you.” His head lifted, his ice blue eyes burning with intensity. “But I cannot do it. For as much as I have tried to stay away, you are an impossible flame to deny.”
She drew a deep breath, trying to dislodge the air that had wedged into her lungs, making it hard to breathe. “Why in heaven above should I believe you, Theo? Believe that you will not decide a month from now to cast me aside again?” Her palm left his chest to thump onto the bare slope of her breastbone. “Because I’m an idiot? Is that what you think? You can disguise what you did anyway you like—convince yourself you were doing it for me—but it was you, Theo. You. You were the one to cast me aside. You were the one that did not want me. Why would you think I would ever allow myself to be in the position to suffer that again?”
“Because it is me, Vee.” His voice was low, measured.
“You are not enough, Theo.”
He nodded, a pang of pain running across his face. “I know I am not. But I have no other answer, Vee.” His fingers along her bare shoulders pressed into her skin. “Because I am begging. Because I made the stupidest mistake in my life—not once, but twice. I left you because I believed you would be better off without me. Twice I did that. And I am twice the bloody idiot. That was made perfectly clear the other day when I saw you on the street.”
“Why then?”
“Because I realized you need me. Because for all I cannot offer you—you need me.”
“What?” Her word came out shrill, her entire body jerking, trying to escape him.
He held fast and closed his eyes, his lips drawing inward with a breath that lifted his chest. He opened his eyes to her. “Because there is a sadness in you, Vee. It permeates your being, your soul. You had it when we were young, after your parents died. I saw it in you again that morning in the servant’s room upstairs when you kicked me awake a month ago. And it was there, in you, on the street a few days ago.”
He paused, shaking his head. “You need me because I take it away, Vee. That sadness. I am not so arrogant as to think I make it disappear, but when you are with me it is lessened. You are lighter. Your soul is not mired in darkness. I had it wrong all this time, Vee. I don’t drag you down. I lift you up. And I finally realize that.”
Her eyes widened at him, shock mixing with instinctive denial.
He was wrong. She wasn’t sad—a constant, permanent shadow hovering over her that she could not set herself free from.
Was she?
“Theo, no…”
Her words trailed as thousands of tiny lies—lies she told herself every day in order to make it to the next minute, to take the next step, to not descend into the darkness that had almost killed her once—started to explode in the back of her head.
Tomorrow would be sunny…There would be no scandal during the next event…The breakfast biscuits would be fluffy next time…She would soon have enough funds to limit the gaming nights to twice a month…Her bed wasn’t cold…The maid only need to lift the top hem of her bodice so her breasts would attract less attention…The birth of Adalia’s babe would go well…If she talked long enough at him, she could persuade Mr. Olston to respect her prowess with numbers, rather than just ogle her body…The rain would ease, it always did…Her smile was believable…She was a lady, even if gentleman didn’t always respect it…She would be fine without Theo in her life…She would find happiness, someday, if she just kept moving, kept searching.
She would be fine.
She would be fine.
She would be fine.
Her face dipped downward, her eyes closing as the lies overwhelmed. Lies she’d had to tell herself because he was right. She was always fighting against that one fact.
She was sad.
And she never would have admitted it to herself.
“I thought I was helping by leaving you, Vee. After the book—after my reaction to it being missing. I didn’t want to see your sadness resurface. I didn’t want my demons to be the cause of it. But that was my mistake—I knew it when I saw you on Bond Street.”
His hands moved up along her shoulders to settle along her neck, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw. He lifted her face to him, even as she refused to look at him. “You need me because I make you happy, Vee. Deep down, soulfully happy. I don’t know how I do it. But I know I do. Are there others that can accomplish that? Yes, I imagine there are. I am humble enough to recognize that.” His fingers tightened along her neck, punctuating each of his raw words. “But no one—no one—is going to love you as much as I do. That—that I know. I know it above all. So I am begging you, Vee.”
Her eyelids heavy, stones of the greatest weight, she had to fight to lift them and let her eyes go to his face. For a moment, her breath left her. She had never seen him as serious, as fiercely fervent as he was in that moment. She had to force a whisper. “Begging
me for… what?”
“For you to believe in me. To trust me. I have gone down this path before, and I will not make the mistake again.” His hands moved to cup her face. “I will not break, Vee. You asked me not to bow under this weight, and I will not. I want this. I want you, Vee. I want us. And that was what I did—I cracked. But I didn’t break—I know it because I cannot accept my fool actions as the end—the end of us. I am refusing to be broken like that. If we are to be finished, then I am fighting it—fighting for us until the end.”
His hands on her face shook, the intensity sending tremors through his fingers into her body. “I just need you to believe in me, Vee. Like only you can. You see me—what I am capable of—like no other. And for as much as you need me, I need you a thousand times fold.”
His words stopped, his look desperate. Desperate for her response. For a chance. For her.
She was a damn fool.
Again and again and again.
So what was one more time?
She sprang onto her toes, her lips meeting his hard, her hands wrapping around his neck.
The only response she could muster. The only response he needed.
His arms locked around her, dragging her fully onto his body, the pulsating heat between them both undeniable and unquenchable.
His head slanted to the side, demanding further access to her mouth, his tongue plundering, exploring, starved from days without her body.
His right hand slipped below her backside, teasing, as his left hand found its way to her right breast, seeking out her already hardened nipple. His lips slid downward, tasting the skin along her neck.
“Theo, I want…” Her words dropped, the exquisiteness of his lips along her neck stealing her breath.
“What, Vee?
“I want you for hours in your bed. I want to fall asleep in your arms. And I want what you said—I want to wake up with you with no pressures upon us, just a world where we can carve out whatever happiness we can.”
“Then that is exactly what I want.” His lips on her neck didn’t halt his devouring as he spoke. “Can you leave?”
She nodded, clutching his head to her neck. “I just have a few more tasks to handle tonight. And then I am yours.”
“Mine?”
“I am.” Her fingers deep in the thick of his blond hair, she pulled him from her neck, finding his clear blue eyes. “Yours.”
~~~
Smoothing the front of her amethyst-hued gown, Violet stepped into the mess of the ballroom. If she had thought her patrons could make a mess on a regular gaming night, she had grossly underestimated the disaster they could concoct on a night such as this. Food and drink spilled, discarded haphazardly throughout the space. Glass shattered on the floor. Paper scraps in all colors from the betting slips dusted every surface. Chairs overturned.
A whirlwind of wreckage.
She hoped the gardens had fared better. Much of the entertainment of the night had been outside, since they had been blessed with unusually clear skies. Even though Theo would be waiting for her in the mews, she dreaded having to walk through the back gardens for she would have to see the destruction in the plant beds. Adalia would have a fit if she knew her precious roses had been broken and mangled. But there would be time to revive them, time for new leaves to grow before Adalia made it into London again.
Walking across the ballroom, Violet picked her way around broken glass scattered on the wooden floors, not wanting to gouge the shards into her floorboards even more. Cassandra must have cleared out the last of the gala’s attendees, as the maids were already busy cleaning, the four of them in opposite corners, working inward.
Spotting Logan by her office, she went over to him, her neck craning upward at his height. “All is well?”
“It is, my lady.” He offered a curt nod, per his usual limited replies. For as handsome as Logan was, for as much as his dark eyes were mesmerizing, and for how one wished for him to talk at length, he never did. She liked that about her head guard.
“And the proceeds were as expected?”
“They were. Double the goal as of a half hour ago.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “Double?”
He nodded.
“I had not imagined that. Are there any more patrons still here playing?”
“A few with the roulette wheel in the garden.”
“Is there any chance we will lose anything substantial?”
“No. The scrubs of coin purses is all that is in play. And Walters has already been dispatched with the bank of the evening.”
“Excellent. He is delivering to Mr. Olston as well?”
“It is his first stop.”
A relieved smile overtook her face. “Thank you, Logan.” She looked around the room and then glanced up at him. “You are positive you do not wish to officially take over in managing this place?”
“I enjoy my position as it is, my lady. It is more important for my men that I remain in my current station.”
Her right cheek lifted high in deviousness. “That does not mean I cannot double your salary, Logan.”
The slightest bit of red tinged his forehead. “I would prefer any increases go directly to my men, my lady. I am in no need of more.”
Violet exaggerated a sigh. As much as she knew Logan would always put his men—all maimed but perfectly capable ex-soldiers—first, she wished for once he would think on his own future. “You have been saying that for two years, now, Logan. Your men are already better paid than you.”
“As it should be, my lady.” He inclined his head. “I must excuse myself to the gardens and the encouraging of the last guests to be exiting.”
“Of course. Thank you, Logan.”
Logan left her, and Violet turned, scanning the mess. She walked into the drawing room, halting in surprise as she spied Fiona sitting in a tall wingback chair, facing the front street. With the angle Fiona sat in, Violet had missed her earlier.
“Fiona, you are still here.”
Fiona sat straight, turning to Violet. “I am. I am just so in awe of the night’s events—all that you managed to procure for the masses. And those nighttime pigeon races with each bird marked as a patron—brilliant. Did you see Lady Buntton took her winning bird home to keep as a pet?”
Violet nodded with a quick smile. “I had a lot of help—yours included.” She moved to stand in front of Fiona. “And you must know I am eternally grateful for your assistance, Fiona.”
Fiona stood, smoothing the front of her dark gown. Gold fibers woven into the black satin shimmered in the early morning sunlight streaming in from the front window. “I am just happy I could be of help. I have been searching for purpose since my husband died, and this has occupied my time quite nicely. I thank you for including me.”
“Of course. I have so enjoyed spending time with you.” Violet’s smile tightened. “But I am afraid it can be no more.”
Fiona’s head jerked to the side, startled. “No more—why ever not?”
“How is it that you know Lord Alton, Fiona?”
Her forehead scrunched, the slight wrinkles making Fiona look much older than her sweet face usually revealed. “Lord Alton? I don’t know the man at all, Violet. I only met him with Mr. Olston when we discussed the vitality of the mine.”
A frown set onto Violet’s face. “Yet, I believe you do know him. I saw how you stiffened when we ran into him on Bond Street.”
Fiona twinkled her fingers in the air, her voice light. “Well, that is silly, Violet. You must be imagining truths that do not exist. That was only the second time I have seen the man.”
“And do not lie to me, Fiona. I am not a blind idiot.” Violet’s stance widened. “Van Halverstin. That was your name before you married Lord Toplan, correct?”
Fiona’s smile faltered. Only a moment, but a definite hiccup in her facade. She redoubled her efforts, and her smile slid easily back onto her face. “It was. How did you know that?”
“I researched you, Fiona. I do not
do business with people I know very little about, especially when there is an alarming incident such as there was with you and Lord Alton on Bond Street. So I researched you during the last few days.” Violet took a tiny step forward, her voice lowering. “And when I learned your birth name—I recognized it.”
“From where?”
“From another list. A list Lord Alton possesses. I could scarcely believe it to be true, but then I checked to verify, and your name was in his book. Your name.”
“Violet, truly, there must be many Van Halverstins. Clearly this is a mistake.”
“No. And next to your name was that of your mother. Letty Van Halverstin. She lives in the Devil’s Acre.”
Fiona glanced around the room, her smile faltering, spiraling downward. “I…I don’t have a mother, Violet.”
“You do.” Violet kept her voice even. “I visited her. And she described you perfectly. She does not know you are alive.”
“Violet—”
“Why would she think her daughter is dead, when the truth of the matter is that her daughter is merrily going about town, spending an unending well of coin while she is living in squalor?”
“You misunderstand.”
“No, I do not think I do. And I fear I cannot afford to hear your explanations. To this very moment you have lied to me about your association with Lord Alton.” Violet’s hands drew to her hips, her words scorching. “So whatever game it is that you have been playing with me—with Lord Alton—it ends here, Lady Toplan. Today. I have already sent the loan repayment, your portion included, to Mr. Olston. And I thank you for your contribution to the success of the evening. But there is no need for our paths to ever meet again. We are done.”
The last remnants of the smile evaporated from Fiona’s face, a twisted frown overtaking her lips. For a long moment, she seethed. But then in a burst of restraint, she inclined her head, stepping to the side and out of Violet’s direct path. “As you wish, Lady Vandestile.”
Without another look, Fiona spun on her heel and walked toward the drawing room door.
Of Sin & Sanctuary: A Revelry’s Tempest Novel Page 18