Without a word, she lifted her outer skirt.
“What are you doing?” he demanded but he didn’t move. Instead, he brought a hand to his eyes.
Violet thought of Justice. She’d give anything to have him here now. And she’d get back to him. Have that conversation. Which meant, she needed to leave this carriage alive. “I’m going to bandage your wound. You’re still bleeding.”
He grunted. “You’re stronger than I thought.”
She ripped off a long strip. She was stronger. Which was why she needed to keep a level head. Without a word, she wrapped the first section of petticoat around the wound. If she were useful, he’d keep her alive.
But her hands stilled as the driver yelled, “Boss. Someone’s coming up behind us.”
Macklemeyer sat up then. Peeling back the curtain he swore under his breath. Violet tried to raise up to see who it was, but Macklemeyer pushed her back down. “Don’t move,” he barked.
Then he pulled out his pistol.
The air built in her lungs as another scream built in her chest. Who was it behind them? Was it Justice? Had he come to save her?
Chapter Fourteen
Justice heard the driver’s yell.
He pushed his own horse faster. He didn’t know for certain that boss was Macklemeyer but if he were a betting man, he’d put down money that it was him. How many criminals could possibly be making escapes in fast moving carriages from Dover at this exact moment?
The door swung open and Macklemeyer appeared, levelling a pistol in Justice’s direction.
Hell and damnation.
He hated being right.
The gun went off and Justice took a hard swerve left, hearing the lead whiz past his ear. It would take the other man time to reload, and Justice would use that time to catch the carriage. A cloud of dust swirled around him, laced with the acrid smell of gunpowder.
Kicking his horse faster, he closed the distance between himself and the vehicle. The rumbling wheels and the beat of the horse’s hooves filled his ears, the noise deafening. Determination pumped through his veins as he spurred the animal even faster. Pulling up alongside the carriage, he half stood on his mount. He was about to reach out and grab the handle reserved for a footman when the door swung open again.
His heart stalled in his chest.
He was in full view of the door. Did he fall back and lose ground or swing onto the back of the carriage?
Macklemeyer appeared, gun in hand. For a brief second, their eyes met, and Justice eased off his mount, hoping to duck both him and his horse, behind the large wooden frame.
Blood pounded in his ears as he heard the hammer cock. Odd, considering all the noise, but he heard in anyhow. He wasn’t going to make it.
Macklemeyer could fire at any moment and Justice was defenseless.
He gritted his teeth, his mind blank as he tried to fall back.
Just as Macklemeyer squeezed the trigger, he lurched to the right, out of the carriage. For a moment, Justice thought he’d catch himself but then he fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt and into the ditch.
For a split second, Justice blinked in surprise. How had that just happened?
But then he yanked on the reigns, slowing his mount. Here was his chance. He finally had Macklemeyer.
The sight of another person stopped him cold. Violet’s head appeared out of the opening, her eyes wide with fear.
“Justice,” she screamed, reaching out a hand.
He only had a moment to decide. Stop and capture Macklemeyer or spur his horse faster and catch Violet.
Which was no choice, really.
Cracking the reins, he sped up again, catching up to the carriage.
Grabbing the handle with both hands, he swung off his mount, his feet first falling and then dragging on the ground as his shoulders near wrenched out of their sockets. But he held. And when he’d caught his wind a second later, he climbed up to the top, inching toward the driver. The carriage swayed wildly with the speed and his hands clawing as they tried to gain purchase as he inched toward the driver.
Pulling the pistol from his belt, he knew he couldn’t load the powder. Not up here like this. So, he flipped it around, and with a giant swing, and the power only a fighter had, he brought the butt of the gun down on the man’s head.
The man slumped forward, and without hesitation, Justice gave him a hard push to the ground.
Jumping into the seat himself, he yanked the reins to slow the vehicle.
“Justice,” Violet cried again as they finally came to a stop.
“Stay there,” he barked. She needed to remain in the protection of the carriage until he could get her back to her uncle’s home.
Then slowly, he turned the carriage around. His own horse had stopped several hundred feet back, and he knew that either Macklemeyer or the driver might be able to use the mount to escape. Or wage another attack.
But as he made his way back down the road, he found the driver motionless in the ditch. He didn’t stop to check if the man were dead or alive. When he reached his horse, he jumped down and tied the animal to the back of the carriage.
Then he climbed straight into the driver’s seat and started again. Part of him wanted to yank open the door and haul Violet straight into his arms. But he’d see her home safely first.
His back was rigid with tension as he made his way to the place where Macklemeyer had fallen. Was the man dead or alive?
He let out a string of curses as he realized the ditch was empty. He could see where Macklemeyer had landed, the grass had all been pushed down and blood dotted the ground.
He drew to a stop.
He could track the man. Follow the blood.
“Justice?” Violet called again, her voice trembling.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said back, snapping the reins. “Let’s get you home.”
He hated to leave Macklemeyer now.
But somewhere along the way, he’d changed, and his goals had shifted right along with him. In this moment, he cared less about catching Macklemeyer and more about holding Violet in his arms.
He didn’t want to fight so much as love her.
And tracking Macklemeyer would mean Violet was left alone and vulnerable. He’d never allow that.
With a snap of the reins, he started down the long road back to the general’s house.
Violet lay on the seat, trembling despite the fact that she knew Justice was driving.
Her eyes closed as tears leaked out down her cheeks and onto the seat.
She tried to summarize her feelings about the last hour in a single word.
Horrifying.
Awful.
Gut wrenching. All right, that was two words. Not that it mattered. They all applied.
She’d been kidnapped from her uncle’s home, patched up the man who’d taken her, then watched as he fired a pistol at the love of her life. And, finally, she’d pushed Macklemeyer from a moving carriage.
Was he dead?
Had she killed him?
She shivered, a sob breaking from her throat. At least Justice had survived. That was some consolation as the carriage rumbled down the road.
The carriage slowed to a stop and the door snapped open. “Violet,” Justice growled, grabbing her under her arms and hauling her out of the carriage. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”
“I,” she said, swallowing as she tried to make her lips and tongue work. The lack of sleep and food, along with the danger had made her completely woozy. Nothing seemed to move as she wanted it to as she collapsed against his chest. “I don’t know—”
“Jesus,” Justice yelled as he swung her into his arms and started up the stairs. “I need help,” he boomed as the front door slammed open.
Within moments the entry was full of people. Servants. Family. She saw Samantha and her father. Samantha had tears streaming down her face while her uncle came racing out of his study with two soldiers behind him. He looke
d as pale as the linens.
“What’s wrong with her?” Uncle Albert asked, his voice sounding unusually tight as he took another step forward, his hand reaching toward her. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know,” Justice said as he started for the library, his cheek resting on top of her head, his arms tightening.
“Nothing,” she breathed, trying to calm her racing heart. She was scaring her family and that had never been her intention. “I’m not hurt. I…” She tried to sit up in his arms. “I was just so frightened and—”
“What the fuck?” Sayden yelled from behind them as he banged open the front door.
Everyone was out of sorts, which was almost a comfort. She wasn’t the only one.
“Your language,” Samantha gasped.
“What about it?” he snapped back.
“It’s atrocious.” Then she looked at Violet. “What happened?”
But before she could answer Justice carried her into the library and laid her down on a settee.
Mindless of the sea of people behind him, he started running his hands all over her body.
“Tell me where it hurts.”
“My head,” she said without thinking.
His head snapped up as he lifted his hands and started feeling all along her scalp. “Did he hit you?”
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m fine. I’m just…” she swallowed again. “It was awful.” Apparently, she’d landed on the one word. Awful.
His shoulders relaxed as he leaned his forehead against hers. Their eyes held. “It was.”
“You came,” she said, managing to lift her fingers to touch his hair, his neck, pull him closer.
He held her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs massaging little circles on her cheekbones. “Of course, I did.” Then he looked back at Sayden as he sat up. But one of his hands remained on her cheek, cupping her face. “Where were you?”
Sayden lifted his hands, his features growing tight. Gone was the devil-may-care smile he always wore. “I sounded an alarm and then chased after you. There was a fork. I must have chosen the wrong branch. I’m sorry.”
Justice blew out a long breath. “The bastard got away again.”
“What happened?” her uncle asked as he moved to stand at the end of the settee.
In clipped words, Justice told them what he knew. The carriage, his gut instinct, chasing down the vehicle.
When he got to the part where he explained that Macklemeyer had fallen, she squeezed his arm, her own heart contracting in her chest. What she’d done…. It had been horrible. “He didn’t fall.”
Justice had been looking at her uncle, but his gaze swung back to her. “Violet?”
“I…” she started trembling. “He was going to kill you.”
He blinked, his mouth falling open, and then he gathered her in his arms, squeezing her tight. “You pushed him.”
“Is he dead?” she asked, trying to burrow into his chest.
“No,” he answered.
Relief swept through her. Thank goodness she wasn’t a murderer.
“We’ve shot the man with a pistol, an arrow, and now shoved him from a moving carriage and the man will not die,” Justice said as he stroked her hair.
She gave a hiccupping laugh, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m sorry for you, but glad that I didn’t…”
“I’m impressed you’re willing to kill for my brother. That’s love,” Sayden said as he thumped his chest with a closed fist.
It was love. Her hands wound into his shirt as he held her tighter.
Distantly, she heard the conversation continue behind them, but she closed her eyes, safe in the cocoon of his arms. “Justice,” she whispered so that no one could hear but him. “I do love you.”
“Violet,” he whispered back, his own voice rough.
“I knew you’d come for me, but I also knew that I couldn’t allow him to hurt you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he paused, leaning back and taking her face in his hands again.
But Sayden’s voice interrupted him. “And Justice was right. He said that if he became engaged to Violet, he’d flush Parricide out for certain. The man couldn’t resist taking the bait.”
Those words settled in her stomach like a lead ball. She’d just confessed her love and he’d become engaged to her as a tactic?
It was her worst fear realized and it stole the air from her body. She twisted away as she pulled herself to sitting.
He didn’t want her. Never had. There was no love that could bloom if there wasn’t a seed to begin with.
Tears sprang to her eyes again, but she tried to blink them away.
Justice had always been here for Macklemeyer.
Just as Macklemeyer had only wanted her for the social acceptance she would bring.
This whole time, she’d been nothing but a pawn. She’d known that was true with Macklemeyer, of course. But with Justice…she’d hoped for so much more. And she’d given a great deal, too. Her trust, her love, her body. Tears welled in her eyes.
She pushed away from Justice, drawing up her knees between them.
“He’s got a general’s mind,” her uncle said.
“I need to go lie down,” she whispered, hands coming to her cheeks. “Uncle Albert, can you have a tray sent up?”
“Of course,” he answered, his gaze narrowing.
But she didn’t respond as she turned away and started for the sanctuary of her room. She had a great many more tears to cry.
Chapter Fifteen
Justice watched the blood drain from her face, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. He swore under his breath.
She’d been clear that she didn’t wish to marry him if she were nothing but a job to him. And now she thought exactly that. That he’d used her to get to Macklemeyer.
Fucking Sayden.
What he needed was some time alone to speak with her. And hold her in his arms. Today had been too awful to go sit in his room by himself. He realized he’d changed, fundamentally. That he no longer wished for autonomy. He only wanted to be wrapped up in her.
“Of course, I’ll have a tray brought up, Poppet.” Her uncle answered. “You should lie down. I’d just dispatched men to find you but I’m going to call them back so that they can guard the house. You needn’t worry about a thing. Get some sleep.”
Justice lifted her into his arms, cradling her close to his body. “With your permission, sir, I’ll bring her upstairs.”
Her uncle gave a stiff nod.
They were engaged to be married, which meant he wasn’t strictly out of bounds but what he didn’t mention was that he had no intention of leaving her room. In fact, he didn’t intend to leave her side at all until Macklemeyer was caught.
“Sayden,” he said, brushing his cheek on the top of Violet’s head. He’d give his brother a good smack upside the face for his comment later. Right now, he needed him to finish a job. “Can you head back out and see if you can track Macklemeyer? You’ll see where he fell on the right side of the road down into a ditch.”
Sayden gave a quick nod. “On it.”
He felt Violet shift in his arms. “You’re not going with him?”
“No,” he answered, pressing her closer. But he didn’t say more as he made his way up the stairs. There’d be time for talking soon enough.
He reached the landing and carried her down the hall and to her room, leaving the door open. Laying her on her bed, he smoothed her hair back from her face. “Should I call for a bath, as well?”
She gave a stiff nod, her gaze not quite meeting his. She worried her lip as he sat on the mattress next to her, pressing his hip to hers. There’d be no more misunderstandings between them.
A knock sounded at the open door. Her uncle stood in the opening. “Lord Justice.”
Reluctantly rising, he crossed to her uncle. “Yes, sir?”
“Did I hear you sent your brother to track Macklemeyer?”
He gave a stiff nod. “That’s r
ight.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be staying here, sir.”
General Wright gave a quick nod. “Good. I’m going to the castle to organize the manhunt. As my brother has already begun drinking, I don’t expect him to be of much help.”
Violet huffed from the bed which made the smallest grin play at his lips. “I’ve no intention of going anywhere. Violet’s safety is my priority.”
Her uncle clapped his shoulder. “Good.” Then he hesitated. “Thank you for bringing my niece back to me unharmed. I’m very grateful for all your help.” Another pause. “Have you ever considered a career in the military?”
His brows rose. “That is very generous.”
“I’m not being generous. You’re damn good.” The general straightened and somehow managed to give the impression of looking down on Justice even though he was shorter. Must come from overseeing so many men. “You not only have a tactical mind, but you’re also a natural leader.”
Justice shook his head. It was a nice compliment, and he appreciated the words. For so long he’d been a man who’d made his own way. But now… he looked over at Violet. He was ready to use his head and his heart rather than his fists. And he was ready to be a full member of his family. “I appreciate it, but my brothers are venturing into a new business, and I’ll be by their sides to help them however I can.”
Wright patted his shoulder again. “Can’t say I blame you there. Thank you, again.”
Justice likely should have been the one saying thank you. He might have saved Violet today, but she’d saved him, too. Even before she’d pushed Macklemeyer. Somewhere along the way, he was fairly certain that Violet had changed his entire outlook on life.
Which was all he could think as he pulled the cord and ordered a bath. Tea arrived along with food and when it came, he took the tray, preparing the food for Violet himself.
He knew that silence was stretching between them as she ate, the color returning to her face. But he wished to speak uninterrupted. He heard the servants coming up the stairs, carrying the buckets and he quietly slipped behind her changing screen.
Her Wanton White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Page 12