Her Willful White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Book 2

by Andresen, Tammy

  Her hands grabbed at the object, trying to rip it away as she gasped for air, but she came in contact with strong hands instead.

  She raked her nails down them, fear pulsing through her as she kicked her legs, attempting to twist away. She needed to breathe, desperately, she dug her fingers into her assailant.

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh made her still, confusion clouding her mind as the pillow slumped to the side. She drew in a giant gulp of air, her body jolting into a sitting position.

  Dez stood over her bed and a scream built inside her again causing her stomach to clench.

  Had Dez hurt her?

  She started to scramble away from him, off the other side of the bed when he reached out and grabbed her by the arms, hauling her against his chest. “Fleur,” he ground out, his voice broken and rough, his arms wrapping about her. “Are you all right?”

  “I…” she started trying to make sense of what was going on. “What happened—”

  A moan from the other side of the bed stopped her words. She gripped Dez’s shirt as he continued to hold her in his arms. Peering over the side, she caught sight of a boot laying on her floor. There was someone else in the room.

  The door to Mary’s connecting room burst open and Mary flew into the room and then screamed, halting dead in her tracks.

  “Who is it?” Fleur buried her face in Dez’s shoulder as the truth settled into her mind. Another man had attacked her and Dez had stopped him. But how had he known? Why was he here? What would she have done if he hadn’t interceded?

  “We’re going to find out.” And then he lifted her from the bed, carrying her toward Mary. “But first I’m going to tie him up.”

  He set her on her feet. “Both of you, in Mary’s room. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  “I’ll stay,” Mary whispered. “In case you need help.”

  Fleur looked at her maid, her face ghost white, but her chin was high, her stance firm. “I’ll stay too,” she said, loosening her grip on Dez’s shirt as she reached for Mary.

  “Both of you, in the other room,” he barked and then turned back to the bed, yanking a sheet from its neatly tucked position.

  Fleur did not care a whit that he’d barked at her. She was safe thanks to him and she watched as he made quick work of hog-tying the man on the floor. As Dez spun him, to tighten the knots that connected his hands and feet behind his back, she caught sight of the attacker’s face.

  Another cry fell from her lips though she quickly clapped her hands over her mouth. Mary wrapped her arms about Fleur even as Dez looked at her. “I told you to wait in the other room.”

  “I didn’t listen,” she answered, holding onto Mary’s arm.

  Dez shook his head. “What’s happened to my life? Everyone used to listen to me and now no one does. Not you. Not Will.”

  “Dez,” she whispered, trying to keep the emotion from clogging her throat. “That’s LeBeouf.”

  The man lay limply on the floor and Dez paused, peering into his face. “I knew he wasn’t an English informant.”

  “What is he then?” Fleur sank to the floor, Mary going with her.

  “He’s a smuggler, Fleur. And he’s in league with—” he stopped, looking at Mary.

  He didn’t need to finish. Fleur knew what he’d been about to say. That LeBeouf and Le Serpent were in business together. And her beautiful father, he’d been in league with them, too. Her heart ached as her chin sunk into her chest. “Sacré bleu.”

  Mary gripped her tighter, swaying on her feet. “What will we do with him? That man on the floor. Do I wake the earl?”

  That made Fleur’s heart start racing all over again. What would her uncle think of all this? How would she explain to her mother what her father had done? Might have been doing for some time?

  “No.” The single word was not from her lips but Dez’s. “There is no need for that. I’ll remove him from the house one way or the other. I’d drop him off the balcony, but he and I have some things to discuss.”

  But Mary’s face grew even paler and suddenly she spun, racing from Fleur’s room into her own.

  Fleur followed, worried for poor Mary. What was wrong? But she stopped again at the sight of Mary down on her knees, bent over a chamber pot, heaving. “Oh, Mary,” she said as she dropped down too, stroking the woman’s back.

  “I’ll be all right,” Mary answered, sitting up a bit straighter. “I just need a minute.”

  Fleur nodded but she didn’t get up right away, instead continuing to stroke the other woman’s back.

  “Fleur?” Dez called from the other room.

  “Go,” Mary whispered. “I’ll join you in just a minute.”

  Slowly, Fleur rose. The moment she stepped into the other room, Dez wrapped her up in his arms. Leaning her cheek against his chest, she whispered. “It was just her stomach. It’s been a trying evening.”

  In answer, he stroked her hair. “You’re incredibly brave. Do you know that?”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. Which was a mistake. The moment their eyes met, her breath rushed from her lungs. “Thank you.”

  He reached up a hand, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “You’re welcome.” Then he grimaced. “Despite your resourcefulness, you should stay out of sight for a few days at least.”

  Fleur stared at him. She appreciated the thought, but she had other plans. “I want to come with you.”

  He gave her a long stare. “No.”

  She slid her arms up his chest and around his neck. She could see by the look on his face that he had no intention of budging. His shoulders were set in stiff, uncompromising lines, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Please.”

  He shook his head as he stepped away and then leaned down to check the knots on his capture. Then he reached behind him, grabbed a pillow and removed the case, using it to tie about the man’s mouth. “It’s out of the question, Fleur.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head. “How would you explain your absence to your family?”

  “Oh.” She let out a long breath. He had a point.

  “Let me be clear because we’ve yet to discuss this. I know that I’ve proposed courtship to your family but that was a ruse for the express purpose of solving this little dilemma we’re both embroiled in. I’ve no intention of marrying anyone…ever. My business is my wife and my mistress.”

  She’d known that he had no actual interest in her, but somehow the words still made her ache inside. Somewhere along the way, she’d begun to care about him.

  He’d saved her tonight. When tall, dark and handsome men were also heroes…how was a woman supposed to resist? She hadn’t, and she’d pay a price for it.

  But at least she’d been correct on one account. She’d trusted the right man and that mattered.

  “Can we agree that I am in danger here and that I am safest when I am with you?”

  That made the hard edge of his jaw relax. “Fleur.” He tightened the gag. “You can’t just have the house wake in the morning and be gone. I’d presume the danger has passed, at least for tonight, but to be safe, you should bar both doors and you and Mary should take turns sleeping.”

  “And tomorrow? And the day after that?” Her palms pressed to her cheeks. Because the danger was very real.

  Distantly, she knew there was another sort of worry, the one to her reputation, but she dismissed it. Once this war was done, she’d take herself back to France and try her hand at running the family winery. If she couldn’t make the business work on her own, plenty of men there would love the opportunity to help create her Bordeaux no matter what happened here. But her heart gave an unsuspecting lurch of protest at the idea.

  “Fleur, we have to think about your uncle. And what he might do if he discovers we’ve been alone.”

  She shook her head. “You’re right. But there must be a way. I don’t want to stay here not knowing what’s happening or when danger might come again.”

  He stopped, looking down at the man s
till unconscious on the floor. “Tomorrow, you’re going to visit your cousin. Mary will escort you.”

  “My cousin?” She sat up straighter. “You think I’ll be safer there?”

  “No. You’re actually going to come to my brother’s home, Whitecliff. Well, our family home. No one will think to look for either of you there.”

  Relief made her weak in the knees. He was going to keep her safe yet again. She searched her mind for the proper way to say thank you, but nothing came to mind. She’d have to find a way. Because Destrian White might be the best man she’d ever known.

  Silently, he reached into his shirt and pulled out her amulet. The one he’d demanded when he’d been uncertain if he could trust her. Spreading out the chain, he dropped the piece over her head.

  The metal was warm, from his skin, the weight comfortingly familiar. But now that he’d given it back, there was a piece of her that still wished he wore it.

  She winced, a bit sad to know that he had no intention of marrying. With absolute certainty, she knew he’d make the best sort of husband.

  * * *

  Dez carried LeBeouf down the stairs and out the kitchen door as Mary led the way. He was surprised by how light the grown man actually was. Once he’d made it outside, Mary turned back into the house. “Good luck, tonight, Lord White. And thank you.”

  “Thank you, Mary.”

  She softly closed the kitchen door, and he heard the lock turn behind her. Good.

  Making his way down the drive with the heavy load, he debated his next move. Much as he hated to drag his brother into all of this, not only was he going to bring Fleur and Mary to Cliffside tomorrow, but he and LeBeouf would be paying a visit tonight.

  As a duke, his brother was better positioned than anyone other than the Prince Regent himself to keep Fleur safe. And to help Dez bring these men to justice.

  Close to the gate, he heard the whinny of one of his horses. He was nearly there. His shoulder ached with the effort of carrying the other man, but he’d take that pain out of LeBeouf’s hide before the night was over.

  Not that his sore shoulder was really the issue. Memory of Fleur under that pillow as she fought for her life danced before his eyes.

  Fear like he’d never experienced in his life had pulsed through him. If something had happened to her…

  And that had been a whole other shock.

  His entire body had revolted at someone hurting her. It was a natural reaction, wasn’t it?

  But then again, even now, a possessive need to protect her radiated out of him. He wanted to tear the world apart searching for the men who wanted to hurt her.

  The carriage came into view and his driver jumped off his seat, moving to the door and snapping it open without a word of question.

  Dez grunted in gratitude as he dumped LeBeouf on the floor of the carriage and then stepped on him to take his seat. “Cliffside,” he said, clapping his driver on the shoulder.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “And Charles,” Dez leaned forward. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The other man said as he closed the door.

  Dez settled back into his seat as he stared down at LeBeouf.

  The man had intentionally sent Fleur down to the docks. She’d discovered several secrets after all. And when she hadn’t come to the waterfront tonight, LeBeouf had been forced to try and finish the job himself.

  He swore under his breath.

  His thoughts circled around another truth. If Fleur hadn’t alerted Le Serpent about his decoy ship, who had? The only people to know about the plan were himself, Fleur and…he stopped, his breath hissing out of his throat.

  Will.

  Will, who’d been acting strangely. Will, who’d been in charge the night of the fire. Will, who’d seemed to intentionally get in the way tonight as Dez had attempted to stop that rowboat.

  Understanding like lightening flashed through him. Will had saved him a year ago from a scarred man. It was the act that had convinced Dez to make Will his second in command. Will had saved him from a man with a jagged scar over his face.

  Had that been Le Serpent?

  Christ. He scrubbed his scalp. What if Will had set the whole charade up of saving him just to gain access to Dez’s ships?

  Dez’s boats travelled to France and along the coast of England. If one wanted to sneak wine into the country, what better way to do it than ships delivering war supplies for England? No one would think to search them for contraband goods.

  “Bloody fucking Christ,” he growled out. His head spun with the potential.

  The carriage slowed. They must have reached his brother’s home. Time to confirm everything he’d just pieced together.

  The only question that was left was how angry was Ben going to be about being dragged into this mess?

  Dez feared no man.

  But if he were to be a bit shaken by one…it might be his brother. A duke and a White, the Duke of Whitehaven was as fierce as a man could be and, honestly, rather ill-tempered as a general rule. What was more, he was likely to be irritated that trouble had been brought to his door.

  Chapter Eight

  Dez hated being right.

  That wasn’t true. He was correct often, at least in his mind, and he quite enjoyed it.

  But not tonight. An hour later, he stood in front of his large and angry brother as candlelight flickered off the harsh planes of the Duke of Whitehaven’s face.

  Ben looked ready to spit iron as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Not surprisingly, he was as dark and one of the few men who was just as tall as Dez. “Explain to me again why you brought a French spy to my door in the middle of the night?”

  Dez ran a hand through his hair. He’d not apologize. Pride was a White trait. “It was important.”

  “Our sister is important. The safety of my fiancée is important,” Ben growled back.

  “The capture of French spies keeps the entire country safer, Ben.”

  Ben grunted an unintelligible answer as he stared down at the still unconscious man. “How hard did you hit him?”

  “Hard,” he responded. “Right to the fucking face. He was trying to suffocate—” He stopped, not sure how much he wished to reveal.

  He’d told Ben the details of the past few days. But he’d left out his feelings for Fleur. Which was odd for him to even say but there it was…he had…feelings. Attraction, certainly. But when he’d seen that pillow over her face…something deep inside had shifted.

  He spit, hating the way the words sounded bouncing around his head. Hell, he hated the way they felt. Like a weakness.

  Ben’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Fleur.” His piercing eyes, so like Dez’s own, narrowed. “What is your relationship with this woman?”

  His stomach dropped. “No relationship other than I thought for a day that she’d burned my boat.”

  Ben’s chin dropped as he continued to assess his brother. “And she’s led you into an investigation involving French spies.”

  That protective feeling rose up in his chest. He clenched a fist. “That’s not her fault. I did that all on my own.”

  “Either way, you’re dragging me into it.” Ben tapped LeBeouf with his foot.

  “It’s my house, too,” he said, his shoulders stiffening. “Mother left it for all of us and father honored that wish.”

  Ben’s lip curled. “Honor. Not likely. He must have been legally bound. That’s the only reason he’d act with such generosity.”

  That was fair. His father knew that all his children loved this home and he’d have kept it from them if he could have done so. “Were you hoping to get the house for yourself?”

  Ben shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said no. Which sounds selfish, I know. I’ve already received so much. It’s not that I want more it’s just that this place…”

  Dez understood and much of his irritation deflated. He’d loved this place, too. He remembered walking hand in hand with their mother as they talked and laughed.
“It’s the only place we were ever happy.”

  “Yes,” Ben agreed. “And while it’s good that mother left it to all of us. We’ve not had the best relationship, us Whites. It would be difficult to share this place if we were a normal family. But as it stands, all of us being half asshole, like him…”

  Dez couldn’t argue with that. “I’m sorry for you—”

  “Are you apologizing?” Ben dropped his crossed arms.

  “Yes,” Dez grimaced as he looked down at LeBeouf. He had apologized, hadn’t he? Why should he feel sorry for his brother who’d been given an entire dukedom? But this house suited Ben. Brought out the best in him.

  “Has Hell frozen over?”

  Dez bit back a smile. “Don’t get used to it.” Then he cleared his throat. If he were apologizing… “I don’t blame you for not wanting trouble at your door, our door. But I didn’t know who else to turn to. Sayden is in the north and Justice is circling the harbor in the boat you’ve sold me. And…I’ve suspicions about Will, my second.”

  “I don’t like him,” Ben grunted. “Seems like an arse to me.”

  Dez told Ben about all that happened regarding his second-in-command.

  When he was finished, Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “If you ask me, he’s guilty. But we’ll deal with him tomorrow. Tonight, we’re going to take care of this rather large problem,” he gestured down at the man who’d begun to moan on the floor.

  Ben stepped up next to Dez. He looked at his brother’s profile in the dim light. In this moment, he looked so much like their father. But his father would never have helped Dez. Not now, not ever. “How do you think father would have handled this?”

  “He’d smite the bastard,” Ben said without hesitation. “And then he’d have beaten you for having brought him here.”

  “That’s the truth.” Their father seemed to relish an opportunity to give a hard lesson.

  “I’m proud of you, Dez,” Ben said as he nudged LeBeouf with his boot. “After living with him, you did a much better job than me of keeping yourself open to others. Now that I’ve come back, and I have Chloe and Millie, I can see what a selfish bastard I was. But you. You’re different.”