Her Willful White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Book 2

by Andresen, Tammy

  Her Willful White

  Dark Duke’s Legacy Book 2

  Tammy

  Copyright © 2021 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  His Wallflower White

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Tammy

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  www.tammyandresen.com

  Hugs!

  Chapter One

  A thick fog rolled over the docks making the night air eerily calm. Lord Destrian White moved through swirling clouds, his footsteps muted against the wood.

  It was the sort of night where the world seemed sinister.

  His friend, and second in command, William Parricide, moved next to him. “We’ll not discover a thing in this fog.”

  Dez grunted in reply. Will was right but he hated to admit it now. A week had passed since his ship had been destroyed and he grew increasingly agitated with the investigation. His business meant everything to him, and he needed to know it was safe. “Tell me again what we know.”

  Will sighed. “Must we?” He’d been over the details with Dez at least a half dozen times but each time they reviewed the facts, Dez learned something new.

  Will had been on the boat that night while Dez had been with his brother, the Duke of Whitehaven. Family matters involving his father’s death had pulled him away. Dez’s chest tightened. Would it have been different if he’d been here rather than there?

  Incidents like this were why he hated leaving his vessels. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his irritation making him restless.

  “We were anchored out from shore.”

  “Why?” Dez asked, stopping to listen as the fog settled about them.

  “There were no docking slips available.”

  Dez gave a terse nod. He’d had two ships in his fleet that moved his product, the gunpowder his brothers produced in a quiet village in the north. Once it had been manufactured, they brought it south. The first stop was Dover where some of the powder was unloaded on other Naval ships and sent straight to the front lines in France.

  The rest was sent to London where it was stored for future use.

  It wasn’t uncommon for the boats to tie off together and directly load and unload without fully docking in the harbor. It was not Dez’s preferred method, cargo could be lost that way, but it was sometimes necessary. “Go on.”

  “The night was also foggy but not as thick as tonight.”

  Dez said nothing, allowing the man to continue. Rushing him would do little good and he needed Will to focus and fill in any missing details. For Dez, nothing was more important than his business. He’d built it with his own hands when he’d barely been able to rub two shillings together. Despite being the son of a duke, he’d struck out on his own, made his way in the world without help of any kind and this business wasn’t just his life, it had been his savior. Building it had given him focus and drive when his anger at his father could have bubbled over into self-destruction.

  “We’d unloaded part of the cargo onto the Anna Maria when a fire broke out.”

  “How?” Dez asked, though he knew the answer Will would give. The other man didn’t know.

  And while fire on a ship could be accidental, they’d been transferring goods at the low tide when the water was calm. It had been the middle of the night which allowed them to catch the high tide in the morning, but it also meant they’d needed many lanterns to see the job done.

  Still, the fire had some oddities.

  It had started at the back of the boat, well away from the cargo and sailors. It had meant no one was hurt but it had also ensured that no one discovered the blaze until it was too late. And why was any sailor back there during an unload?

  “I’ve interviewed every crew member on the boat and not one of them admits to being aft. I’ve wracked my brain attempting to remember if anyone was missing for any period of time while we worked…” Will cleared his throat, wincing.

  Dez gave a frustrated grumble as he removed his hat, scrubbed his hair then jammed the top hat back on his head. When the blaze had been discovered, they’d uncoupled the two ships and his crew had loaded onto the other ship and left his boat as it went up in flames. They’d made their way into the harbor as his ship had exploded when the gunpowder within had finally ignited. They were lucky to have survived. “And the woman you saw?”

  Will grimaced. “It was dark. I already told you.”

  “Tell me again anyhow,” he said, crossing his arms as he straightened.

  “You’re a fucking prick, you know that, don’t you?” Will grumbled as he glared at Dez.

  “I’ve been told,” he answered without pause or malice. He knew Will was tired of going over the details but Dez didn’t care. Will might have overlooked something, forgotten some small detail. And Dez was not a man to be denied when he was on a mission. “Now tell me again about the woman?”

  He was only interested in her from an investigative perspective. After all, he had no plans to marry, start a family. Working was his entire life, his sole focus.

  “The sun was just beginning to rise as we reached the docks. She stood on the end of the dock watching the ship burn.”

  A lone woman on the docks at sunrise was suspicious at best. “You said she was French?”

  “I think so. One of the men yelled, ‘Who goes there?’ Her response was in French.”

  “And she said?”

  “Sacre bleu.”

  A blonde French woman on the docks of Dover. His only lead and the reason he was here tonight. “What happened next?”

  “She ran.”

  Dez resumed walking. He was a head taller than Will and a great deal broader and he led the way now, Will falling in step behind him.

  He looked back at the man, not fooled by his size. Will was as strong as anyone Dez knew. Hell, the man had saved his life a year ago when he’d been attacked in a tavern. It was the event that had convinced Dez to promote Will to his second.

  “Is it even possible that a woman made it on a ship full of men, lit a fire, and then rowed herself back in without being discovered?”

  Will shook his head. “Seems unlikely but what else have we got?”

  “Nothing.” He growled, slapping his outer leg. That was the infuriating part. He needed a plan. And more information. And he needed them both quickly.

  “We’ve got that new ship from your brother arriving tomorrow night,” Will said as they walked.

  Dez grimaced. He hated that he’d taken charity from his brother, Ben, even if the man was now the duke and filthy rich. “I know.” He’d sent his other two brothers, Justice and Sayden, to prepare the next shipment of the gunpowder themselves. He hardly trusted anyone else.

  He had a contract to fill for the crown and he didn’t want the business going
to another provider. Sayden produced the powder, and his product was excellent, which was why Dez had the contract. But if Dez couldn’t fill the need on the front lines then any gun powder was better than no powder at all.

  “I could have gone with them,” Will said quietly. “With only one boat, I’m hardly doing anything here. Put me to work, Dez.”

  Dez turned back to look at Will. He’d pressed this issue several times in the past few days. Was he feeling guilty that the ship had been lost on his watch? Dez couldn’t blame his friend there. “You’re helping me investigate. Finding the culprit is more critical than fulfilling the contract. People will buy our product provided it hasn’t been destroyed.” The fog was beginning to thin, and he looked out over the harbor. “I can only hope that the problem is specific to this harbor. Someone here in Dover wishes us ill. Because if it’s a larger problem…”

  Will gave a terse nod. “Of course. Sorry. I want to see this business done too and I haven’t been much help.”

  Dez let out some air, his shoulders loosening just a bit. “You have.” Dez had pressed for more details on the woman because her identity worried him. Not just that they didn’t know who she was. But what they did know…

  They were in a war with the French and a French woman just happened to be present when his boat had been sunk in a fiery blaze. Was she a renegade taking action for her country or part of a larger network trying to help the war effort with subterfuge?

  The latter frightened the hell out of him, and he was a man who was rarely scared. But his business, it supported people, a great number of them, including his brothers and his sister. People were depending on them and he’d not let them down. Unlike his father, Dez was a man who cared for those around him.

  Which was why he needed to find this woman sooner rather than later and discover what she knew about him, his business, and who she worked for.

  * * *

  Fleur Dupont peeked around the corner as muted footsteps sounded on the docks.

  “Arrête,” she softly whispered under her breath at the unknown men. They weren’t who she sought tonight, and she didn’t want them to come any closer. She was tucked onto a small walkway between two boats, close to where Lord White’s boat was docked. It was a precarious position and as the boats moved, they exposed her location before closing the view again.

  But she’d needed to be close in case Le Serpent struck again.

  Fleur knew it had been him who’d destroyed the ship last week. Her father’s friend and former partner had told her he’d be in Dover. And she’d arrived just in time to watch the boat go up in flames out in the harbor. Too late. What she didn’t know was if Le Serpent was still here, planning another attack, or if he’d moved on, finding another way to sabotage the British efforts on the home front to support the war.

  Fleur had only met Le Serpent once, but she’d never forget his face. He bore a large scar that sliced the skin from the corner of his eye clear down his cheek. He often wore a patch over the affected eye. Not that his impaired vision made him any less lethal.

  He was deadly.

  Her memories were forgotten as the footsteps started again, coming closer. She crouched lower, hoping the fog hid her position.

  “So, all that we know is that a French woman was on the dock when it happened? That’s it?”

  Fleur sucked in her breath. They were discussing her!

  Of course, they were. She’d been so shocked by the destruction, she’d stopped, watching explosion after explosion as the ship burned in the night. It was the reason she’d been seen. The reason Le Serpent had slipped away once again.

  And who knew where he was now.

  She was failing at her mission to bring her father’s killer to justice.

  Worse yet, her contact, her father’s friend, had made it clear he’d not help her again. He’d only done so this time out of loyalty to her father. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, Fleur. It’s not your job to deliver justice.”

  Fleur disagreed.

  She had every intention of making Le Serpent pay for his crimes. Most importantly, the death of her beloved father.

  The boots stopped again as she peered through the boats, two men stood on the main dock. One large, dark and ferociously handsome, the other slight and nervous looking.

  “That’s it,” the smaller one said.

  “That’s almost nothing.” The tall dark one bit out. “With another shipment coming in, we need a great deal more than that.”

  Her mouth twitched. Part of her, the good part, if that still existed, had the slightest moment where she’d like to climb out of her hiding spot and tell him what she knew. It would help England, her new home. But that wasn’t her goal. Retribution was her business. If she could do this, she could do anything, including take over her father’s winery once the war was finally over. Which meant, she had to find the killer. And if she knew when another shipment might arrive, she had a hope, however small, that Le Serpent would return.

  The boats swayed on a wave, dipping away and revealing her for a few moments.

  “Dover is a big town.” The smaller one shrugged. “How are we going to find one woman?”

  The dark one removed his hat, scrubbing his head, displaying the strength in his broad shoulders even as he grimaced. “Spread the word that shipment will be here at six sharp.”

  “Six? But it doesn’t arrive until midnight earliest.”

  The tall one nodded. “Precisely. Ben has a whole fleet of those boats. Can you believe it? We’ll sail one in six hours before the actual cargo arrives and see what happens.”

  A decoy.

  Fleur had to confess; she was impressed. It was a good plan and may very well flush out the attacker.

  The fog was slowly thinning, making her hiding spot even more open to view. She crouched lower.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “The ships are just north of here. If you leave now, you’ll be able to catch the tide. Get my brother’s empty vessel to harbor this evening.”

  The second man gave a terse nod and turned. “I’ll leave at first light.”

  “Excellent.” The larger one clapped the other fellow on the shoulder and then turned away as Fleur breathed a sigh of relief. Spying was not her strength. When it came to subterfuge, very little was, to tell the truth. She’d been a regular girl up until six weeks prior. Her father owned a large vineyard in the south of France where she grew up in ease and comfort with a loving family.

  But she was determined to investigate her father’s death and see it through until Le Serpent was caught and punished for his crimes.

  The larger one turned back suddenly. “Will,” he said low and deep, his gravelly voice piercing into the night. She nearly screamed, her hands flying to her cover her mouth.

  “Yes?”

  “Watch to make certain you’re not followed. You can’t be too careful.”

  The other man’s shoulders slumped. “I will. You too, White.”

  So, this was Lord White. She lifted her head as she inspected the man who’d been the latest target. The fog dissipated further as a stiff wind blew, clearing the air. It pulled at his hat and cloak, making him appear almost sinister as he stood straight on the swaying dock.

  He looked like the sort of man who might be able to take on Le Serpent. But then again, so had her father.

  “Godspeed,” he said and turned back toward his boat once again.

  Dez swung round, his gaze colliding with hers. Fleur’s heart thrummed in her chest, and her pulse roared. She opened her mouth, but no words came out as he stared at her. Through her.

  She’d known of this man for the past few weeks, heard other sailors speak of him in hushed tones and now she understood why.

  His very gaze had her frozen like a deer.

  Somehow, with his gaze on her, he appeared even larger. And more intimidating.

  She held in a gasp as his eyes narrowed. “What do you we have here?”

  And then befo
re she could move, he swooped down directly in front of her. “You’re blonde.”

  She swallowed, not sure what to do. Why did he frighten her so? He was an upstanding businessman, not a spy. Should she be afraid? But his comment struck her as odd considering all the things he might say. She nodded her head, knowing how poorly it looked that she’d been crouched down listening.

  “Tell me, love, what’s your name?” His deep voice was surprisingly calm and gentle, compared to moments before.

  The smaller man had come down the walkway as well, peering over White’s shoulder.

  “My name?” she asked, sliding back a bit. Which was a mistake. The walkway ended, and her foot dangled out over air, tipping her balance back.

  Her arms flailed through the air, her body trying to tighten and right itself.

  Strong hands reached out, wrapping about her waist and pulling her back to the safety of the walkway and then further until she was pressed to his rather large and exceedingly hard chest.

  “Did I detect a French accent?”

  Her eyes widened. Not because she’d nearly fallen into the ocean, and not because she was pressed to the firmest chest she’d ever felt, but because she realized why he’d asked about her hair.

  They’d seen her that night, the explosion likely lighting the sky. He already suspected she was the woman who’d been on the docks. She was.

  And she was also in a great deal of trouble.

  Chapter Two

  Dez gritted his teeth, highly aware of several points of fact.

  One, this woman was uncommonly pretty. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were in the dim light, but they were large and fringed with dark lashes lending her a delicate air that was only amplified by her beauty. Combined with her lush lips…