by Dayna Quince
Roderick chose to enter at that moment. He looked slovenly, his face unshaven, and his cravat hanging around his neck. Weirick groaned inwardly. How the devil did he expect to attract a decent woman looking like that? Weirick didn’t have any experience attracting decent women himself, but he would wager his inheritance that good hygiene was mandatory. In fact, he was wagering his inheritance.
He growled under his breath as he stood and stalked to his brother’s side at the buffet, where Roderick was piling bacon and kippers onto his plate. Weirick clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing hard as he jerked his brother closer to speak to him.
“Why the devil do you look like you rolled out of a brothel, into the gutter, and then marched through a cow pasture before entering this room where your guests are trying to eat?”
“Your guests.” Roderick cocked his head to the side. “My, you do look the part of respectable host this morning, except for that cut above your eye, but then again, what’s one more scar?” Roderick smirked.
“You agreed to this,” Weirick said between clenched teeth.
“That was before I knew how bloody boring it would be. The women should be fawning over me, instead they’re fast becoming friends.”
Weirick rolled his eyes. “Have you tried courting any of them?” Specifically, Miss Copperpot? Weirick knew if he said it, Roderick would stage a revolt against the girl.
“I did, I tried to take Miss Everly for a turn about the drawing room, but then Chester—and then you I might add—swept in to stop me.”
Weirick looked over his shoulder at Violet. He was certain no one could hear, but they were all doing a poor job of hiding their interest in what he and Roderick were discussing. “Miss Everly is out of your league,” Weirick blurted, not loud enough for the other guests to hear, but with enough force to catch his brother off guard. His brother stilled; he set down his plate and turned to meet Weirick eye to eye. “Is she? Pray tell me why?”
“She should never have been invited, I…I know her.”
Roderick’s eyes cut to Violet for a moment. “How well do you know her? She came out after you were gone, from what I remember. She’s on her fourth season and almost on the shelf.”
“We met before her debut, but the fact of the matter is, she isn’t for you. She’s the last woman you need, Roderick. Do you understand?”
His brother picked up his food again. “I think I do understand, dear brother.”
Roderick walked to the table, and because he knew it would annoy Weirick, he sat down next to Violet.
Weirick stalked back to his seat and sat before his own plate of cold eggs and sausage. He dug into his food with angry jabs, not caring who watched him or what he thought. They wanted a monster? He could be a monster. It was the part he needed to play so that when the time came and Weirick’s death was announced, no one would contest it, no one would doubt that a mad duke could be lost at sea. He finished his food, shoving his chair back and stalking out of the room. Only silence followed him.
Chapter 10
Violet excused herself from breakfast, catching Bernie’s eye. “Do you fancy a walk, Miss Marsden?”
Bernie nodded and rose from her seat. “A lovely idea, Miss Everly.”
Chester stood. “I will join you.”
Violet nudged Bernie’s side. “That won’t be necessary my lord, you haven’t finished your breakfast.”
Chester tossed his napkin on the plate. “I must insist, Miss Everly. Miss Marsden is under my protection here.” He lowered his voice. “I go where she goes.”
Violet clenched her teeth as she smiled. “How honorable.”
“How tiresome,” Bernie muttered as she and Violet headed to the terrace doors with Chester on their heels.
Violet paused in the hall. “Forgive me, I must change my boots. I’ll catch up with you on the terrace.”
“Take all the time you need.” Bernie gave her a telling glance. “Chester and I will await you in the garden. Come Chester.” Bernie looped her arm through his and they carried on. He didn’t look suspicious, but then again, all his attention was focused on Bernie’s doings, not Violet’s.
Violet hurried up the stairs, not sure of her plan but knowing that she needed to see what the duke was up to after that scene he displayed with his brother. It was obvious they had argued, and then Roderick came to sit beside her but made little effort to converse with her. It almost seemed as if he was taunting his brother.
There was a strange dynamic in this household. Violet knew that some families were not as close as hers, and some outright hated each other, but this family was caught between those two elements somehow.
Violet was going to figure it out.
Reaching his study, she looked before she entered the room, not wanting to surprise any unsuspecting servant who may question her reason for being there. She didn’t even know if he went to his room, but she was hoping he had, because it was the only location that guaranteed complete privacy. No one would expect to look for them both there.
She pushed on the panel of the bookcase just as he had done. It took all her weight but it moved, and she almost fell into the void behind it. It wasn’t dark this time, the window let in plenty of morning light. The panel closed behind her as Violet climbed the stairs carefully. Her knees felt like pudding by the time she reached his door, and doubt filled her. She was about to invade his personal domain and insinuate herself in his family squabble. She had no right to do either of these things, and yet here she stood, willing herself to push open that door and step through with confidence she didn’t have. She raised her hand to push, but her bravado escaped her, so she knocked.
There, at least she did something. She wouldn’t catch him unawares—not that she could see more than what she’d already seen last night—but it would give him the chance to cover himself, or better yet, refuse her entry.
Or…not answer at all because perhaps he wasn’t there. She was a fool to come here. He’d issued the invitation, but this early in the morning he wasn’t—
She could hear the panel door from the study open. Violet froze, pressing herself back against the panel door to his room. It moved, and she fell backward onto her bottom.
She quickly kicked it closed and scrambled to her feet, looking for anywhere to hide. The bed! It was one of those medieval monstrosities that required steps to get into and certainly had enough room for her to slip under it. She took two steps toward it when the panel door behind her swung open. She froze where she stood, unable to turn and see who had caught her being the stupidest woman on earth.
“Well, this is a surprise, though…perhaps not as much as one would hope.”
Violet pivoted. “My lord.”
“Miss Everly.” He nodded as if they were meeting in the drawing room and not in his brother’s bedchamber.
Her cheeks were stained with a blush of guilt, but Violet lifted her chin anyway. She may as well pretend she knew exactly what she was doing here.
“He said he knew you, but I didn’t realize he meant he knew you.”
Violet’s heart gave a violent kick in her chest, and she almost brought a hand to her heart but instead fisted it at her side. He knew her? If he remembered, why didn’t he just say so? “Yes, we’ve met before but it was brief.
Roderick circled around her, peering at her as if she were some strange creature he couldn’t identify. “You couldn’t have been more than a girl back then.”
“I was ten and six.”
Roderick grimaced. “You were a mere babe.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Violet folded her arms.
“No, at sixteen we all think we’re invincible, that all knowledge is ours. Fools are what we are.” He looked at his fingernails. “What was the year you met my brother?”
“1820, during the season.”
He looked up and frowned. “That was right before his...”
“Yes, Bernie said it happened in July.”
“It’s clear he was at his worst th
en, dallying with a mere girl, starting fights in gaming hells.”
“We didn’t dally, we met in the park in full view of society. Both my sisters were there.”
“In the park, you say? How many times?”
“Just the one time. What has he told you?”
“Nothing, he’s told me nothing, but you must have left your mark, Miss Everly, I will say that.” He stroked his chin. “I think I’m going to help you.”
“You won’t tell anyone I was here? He showed me the passage, he…invited me here.”
“Did he?” He raised his brows. “This is all very interesting.”
“Do I have your word you will say nothing?”
“Absolutely, I want to see where this goes.”
Violet frowned in confusion. “I won’t pretend to know what you mean. I’m not sure what this is.”
“As a rake, I can help you with that.” He stepped closer to her. Violet stiffened.
“It’s a tryst. My brother invited you to his room to seduce you. He was never one to act with subtlety.”
“He hasn’t tried to seduce me.” Violet flushed again. Only last night he stood before her naked, but at the time it had felt like he was trying to shock her, not seduce her, though he had said he would.
“What is it you intend to do with my brother, Miss Everly?” He stroked her cheek with one finger.
Somehow, it felt like he was testing her. Did he think her a wanton, that she was here simply to use his brother?
“I simply want to know him. I…” She met his eyes, afraid to reveal her vulnerability. “I’ve waited a long time to get to know him.”
His eyes studied her. “Since that day in the park?”
Violet nodded.
He stepped back. “You’ve waited for so long. I sincerely hope he doesn’t disappoint you. My brother has grown into a difficult man, far from what he could have been—but then again—who’s to say? Is he what my father’s actions made him, or is he what he was always destined to be?”
Violet didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll leave you now. If you wait, my brother will be here shortly. He’s in a temper, so beware.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
“I can guarantee he will.” Roderick slipped back behind the panel and disappeared.
Violet felt shaky, so she poured herself a splash of whiskey, a taste she developed living in her brother-in-law’s Scottish castle where the strict rules of London Society basically evaporated. Servants were like family, and everyone lived and worked together.
She sat in the same chair as the night before and sipped, counting the seconds.
Roderick burst into the study, his brother turning with a curse. “What were you doing in my room?”
“I left you a gift. Enjoy, dear brother, but don’t waste any more time opening it.”
Weirick set down the newspaper he was reading and climbed the narrow stairs. He didn’t know what he would find in his room, a childish prank perhaps, like a stray chicken, or worse, a greased pig. Weirick pushed into his room and looked around in irritation.
“What have you done now?” He growled. Something moved by the hearth. He charged forward, but there was no barn animal. Apple green skirts and blonde curls were all he could see around the large chair.
“Violet?” He couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t be the gift. Had his brother escorted her here? For what purpose?
She slowly stood, looking as frightened as a deer. “I’m sorry, but you did say I could come any time I pleased. It was clear—”
His strides closed the distance between them, and he lifted her in his arms, his mouth clamping over hers. She softened against him as he carried her to the bed, tossing her on the counterpane and climbing up after her. He wasn’t pinning her, but she was caged under his body as he loomed over her on his hands and knees. He tore off his hat and tossed it over his shoulder.
“It looks as though you’ve lost the game. If my brother knows you’re here in my room, he’ll never take you to wife. Is that your plan? To trap me? I’ll never marry you or anyone else, and no force on earth could make me. It is my brother who will carry on the Selbourne line.”
“I never wanted your brother. I’ve never wanted any of them, only you.”
Stunned, he sat back on his haunches. She came up to her elbows, watching him with open eyes that hid nothing. It frightened him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’ve been waiting five years to see you again. I…I acted as I should have, coming out in society, going to balls, fete’s, Almacs, but I was always waiting for you. Three seasons and eight proposals.”
Something cold wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. It couldn’t be true; no woman was that dedicated to landing herself a duke. She would have had no way to know where he’d gone, or if he was ever returning. Why would she want to?
“A bit obsessive, yes?”
She shrugged. “What was I to do? I couldn’t get you out of my head, and believe me when I say I tried. I danced, I laughed, I let them take me out in their phaetons and charm me with bouquets of flowers…” Her chest swelled as she took a deep breath. “I let them kiss me and hold me and all the while…you still remained in my head.”
He folded his arms. The thought of other gentlemen holding her made him murderous. It was senseless. “Am I supposed to believe you? A woman’s single goal in life is to marry well. Why should I believe you’ve wasted countless opportunities to meet that end, except that you were waiting for me, the golden goose?”
“Three seasons, and eight proposals. I didn’t have any reason to wait for you. I had no way of knowing what happened to you. But I did, maybe I am obsessed, maybe I’m out of my mind, but it doesn’t change the reason I’m here now. I tried, I did, but I couldn’t be rid of you. Why is that?”
“You expect me to know?” he scoffed. He leaned over her again, uncomfortable with her questions and anxious to quiet her in a mutually satisfying way.
“No, I don’t but maybe we can figure it out together.”
He leaned closer, nuzzling her neck, breathing her scent. “Why should I help you? All I want is your body, and you’ve all but given it to me. You expect me to believe you’ve held a torch for me all this time, held your heart hostage for me, a man you don’t know? No woman would do such a thing. You’ve held out for the best prospect, that is all, and now you’ve waited too long. I can taste your desperation, Violet…” He licked the skin over her pulse, feeling the rapid beat with his tongue. Every muscle in him tightened as hot need flooded his veins.
She arched under him. “That is not who I am.”
“Then who are you, Violet?” He took her earlobe into his mouth and gently sucked.
“I…I’m not sure, but it isn’t that.”
“Then what? What is it you want?”
She sucked in a breath and released it as a shaky sigh. It was music to Weirick’s soul, and he bit back a groan, lowering his body to hers, feeling the soft acceptance of her body, the give where he would take.
“You.” She gasped. “I’ve wanted you.”
“And when you have me what will you do, Violet, because you won’t keep me, that’s for damn sure. I will see my brother married—not to you—and I will leave England again.” He looked down into her eyes. “What have you to say about that? Will you run away?”
“I can’t, I’ve waited too long for this. Whatever happens, I will see this through.”
“You will regret this.”
“Never.”
He kissed her. He couldn’t stand to hear her say anything more. Her words tortured him. Only a fool would believe them, and he was just foolish enough to want to, but he knew better. His father had given him the greatest lesson of all. Trust no one. You’re only as loved as you are valued, once the value was gone, the love vanished. As soon as his title was gone, she’d cease to want him.
But he was only a man, and if she was going to throw herself at his feet, she who represented the future he wou
ld have succumbed to had he not seen the truth, he would use her, as she meant to use him. It was only fair. He wasn’t the monster here; he was only accepting her devil’s bargain.
He was not gentle as he kissed her. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, ruthlessly claiming her. He’d make her forget those other men. If she thought she was infatuated with him now, he’d make sure that by the time this party was over she’d sell her soul for him. It was only fair; she was twisting his guts with an invisible knife with her mere presence. She would stand for everything he was leaving behind: his name, his past, everything that anchored him to this life. He’d leave it all behind with Violet and start clean again, and this time no regrets, nothing to return to.
She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her legs squirming against his. He’d make it worse, and bring her to the brink of madness.
He ripped his mouth away, dragging his lips and tongue down the sensitive skin of her neck to her collarbone and then her luscious breasts. He ached to take them into his mouth. “Did your gentlemen kiss you like this? Did they make you yearn for more as I’m going to?”
“No.” She moaned.
He softly bit her skin, because thinking of those men touching her with their pasty white hands enraged him. “Did you think of me when you kissed them, Violet? For all you claim to want me above all else, did you think of me when you betrayed me?” He pulled away from her delectable skin to look into her eyes. He needed the truth—he didn’t know why when it would only hurt to hear—but he needed it.
“I tried not to, I tried to be open to them, but when I closed my eyes, they looked like you.”
It hurt just as he thought it would, searing and deep in his gut. He didn’t want to believe her, he refused to, but he didn’t have control. The pain felt good. “Not me. You didn’t imagine a scarred duke, you imagined the beautiful boy with long hair.” And it was enough to give him back the control. He almost believed, almost fell into her trap. He pulled back, sweat beading on his neck and back from the force of his restraint.