“All seven of us?” Ben rumbled, standing. His stance wide and his face surely showing his displeasure.
“That’s correct.” Jacob didn’t budge, didn’t show even a modicum of fear as Ben stood over him. No wonder his father had hired him. He had fortitude even against the White family fits of temper. “You and Lady Whitehaven, who are obviously already here. Your brothers Lord White, Lord Destrian and Lord Sayden. And of course, your sister, Lady Millicent along with Lord Caleb.”
“Impossible,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “We’ve not been all together in over a decade.”
Jacob shrugged. “The instructions are clear. In addition, your father told me to tell you that you should find the motivation to see the family gathered together as he had gifted something to you that was very near and dear to your heart.”
Cliffside. How had the man known the cottage was what he wished for more than anything? He dropped his fist onto the surface of the desk, a loud thump filling the room. The old man was controlling, manipulating even from the grave. Ben could only imagine that some moral lesson was also wrapped up in this peculiar meeting. Some value he wanted his children to learn. And while that sounded like good parenting, his father’s lessons always had a cruel twist. “I don’t have the first clue where my brothers are. They could be anywhere in the world.”
Esme cleared her throat. “I don’t have any idea where Lord Sayden or Lord Justice have taken themselves to but Lord White, when not on his ship, resides near where your sister attends school.”
Destrian lived near Millicent? Why did that information make him feel both better and worse? He was glad to know his brother had been watching out for her all these years, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been neglectful on that front too. “So I can collect them both in one trip?”
“That’s right.”
He let out a long breath. “And which village would that be?”
Esme blinked several times. “You don’t know?”
His mouth thinned again. Did the woman not understand that she now lived by his pleasure? “I don’t need a dose of guilt with my information.”
She gave him a hard stare. “Westcliff. It’s a village near Dover.”
Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. He could just send for them, of course. They’d most likely come. Then again, perhaps they wouldn’t. They hadn’t attended the funeral and Destrian was a man whose will matched Ben’s. If he didn’t wish to come…
Ben’s mouth pressed into a taut line. He understood Dez’s position. In his brother’s place, he wouldn’t answer the summons either. Ben would have to go to them. Truth be told, leaving this house would do him some good. The walls of the massive estate were somehow closing in on him. And he could visit Cliffside, see the place that reminded him of the best parts of himself.
“Mr. Veritas, do you have any ideas where my other two brothers might be?”
“No, Your Grace, but I have taken the liberty of finding two detectives with excellent reputations. I can employ their services if you would like.”
He gave a stiff nod. “See it done.”
Then he sat back at the desk and grabbed a quill, beginning a letter to Dez. He’d write another to Millicent.
It looked as though the White family was due for a reunion.
Chapter Two
Miss Chloe Fairly sat on Lady Millicent White’s bed, her hands carefully folded, as Millie reread the letter from the new Duke of Whitehaven. She must have read the note a hundred times at least and she finished the short missive for the hundred and first time she let out a long sigh.
“Ben is coming here,” Millie said with a frown.
Chloe did not bother to respond. She knew the fifth Duke of Whitehaven was on his way. Hence why they’d packed Millie’s trunk and both of them wore sturdy travelling habits.
Millie’s habit was red, new, and in the latest style while Chloe wore Millicent’s habit from two years prior and a gown that she’d reworked to look like this year’s fashion. And though Chloe had done a reasonably good job, some of the previous stitching was evident. The gown was of a royal blue and she had to confess that it complemented her honey hair and blue eyes.
Neither woman had yet to acquire mourning attire though they had been fitted when the news of the elder duke’s death had reached them. Millie had been delaying the trip to the modiste to retrieve the ordered clothing, while Chloe hadn’t the means for such a wardrobe change unless Millie deemed it appropriate.
Chloe’s meager belongings were wrapped in a satchel next to Millicent’s trunk. Millicent was nineteen, approaching her twentieth birthday, while Chloe was a few years older at nearly two and twenty. Practically an old maid.
Not that Chloe cared about that, precisely. She’d given up on marriage and family at least three years prior when she’d taken the position of Millie’s companion. As the daughter of a baron, she’d been forced to take on the role when her father had died, leaving her with no inheritance. He’d managed to spend every coin that was not part of the entail. Some distant cousin had taken over the barony and left Chloe with precious few options.
For the most part, Chloe was satisfied with her life in the White’s employ. Her allowance was adequate, and she’d saved nearly every penny.
The position provided her meals, her room, and Millicent had been generous with her old clothing. And the two women had become friends. Very dear ones.
Still, there were times where Chloe wished for her old life. The one where opportunity seemed to abound. Millie would marry in the next few years. Would her new husband consent to keep Chloe in his employ? Would she need to find a new position? A small shiver ran down her spine. So much of her future depended first on her making a good impression on the new duke and then helping Millicent carefully choose a kind and generous mate.
She pressed her hands together, her back straight as the sound of heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs to their rooms. Their former rooms.
“Why…after all this time does he want to see me? It can’t be anything good.” Millie whispered, still clutching the letter.
The letter had made it abundantly clear that the new duke wanted Millicent at home. Odd, Chloe thought, considering that she’d never even met Millicent’s eldest brother. His sudden interest was a bit…alarming for both of them. “You don’t know that,” Chloe said because there was little point in making Millie even more frightened. “He might have missed you.”
Millie shook her head. “I don’t remember him being mean, not like Papa, but he’s…cold.”
Chloe’s insides twisted again. She sincerely hoped Millie was wrong. That the new duke was a kind man, for both their sakes but somehow, she doubted it.
The heavy boots reached the top of the steep steps. “It’s him,” Millie whispered, nibbling at her lip.
Chloe looked at the dark-haired beauty next to her and unclasped her own hands to place one over Millicent’s. “It’s all right,” she murmured, not sure what else to say. “He likely just missed you and now that your father has passed, he wants a relationship.” Chloe didn’t believe a word of what she’d just said. Ben, as Millicent called him, had grown up the heir, knowing full well that the entire dukedom would be his. He’d never shown a shred of interest in his sister, in anyone, if she understood the situation correctly.
The man was likely a selfish boor.
But Millie needn’t hear that now as it didn’t help. And Chloe would do what she could to soften the situation for Millicent while still retaining her position. She had her principles and honestly, she was the stronger of the two women. At least most of the time.
Millie had her demons, Chloe knew that. It’s part of the reason the two got on so well. But Chloe had been forced to grow up quickly, be resourceful, and rely on her own strength and ingenuity to live.
She’d use all of that to keep Millie safe.
Chloe had a small reticule on her wrist which held her meager life’s savings. If she had to, she’d use it to s
upport them both. Lord White, Millie’s second oldest brother, would help. In Chloe’s opinion he was the only other White worth his weight and she knew he’d keep his sister safe. Unfortunately, he was at sea, making his living in the transport of goods. What kind, he didn’t mention, and she’d never asked, assuming it best she didn’t know.
But their insistence on finding employment was a peculiarity of the Whites. Duke’s sons, especially considering their father’s lavish wealth, did not go out into the world and find professions with which to make a living. She’d had to, of course, but it had not been by choice.
But all the White men had gone out and made their own way, even the eldest. It was curious, though Chloe had met Millie’s father on a few occasions, including her interview. The man had frightened her half to death.
Chloe thought back to that fateful day. The fourth Duke of White looked her up and down, a sneer on his face. “You’re pretty,” he’d declared with a grimace.
“Thank you?” she’d replied not sure what else to say.
“Does it mean your head is full of nothing but fluff?”
She’d stared at him. She’d spent the last month in the care of a family friend as she’d desperately attempted to find a position. Fluff? “I consider myself quite practical, Your Grace.”
“And your religion?”
She’d swallowed then. How did one answer that question? It was so easy to give an incorrect answer.
But fortunately, he’d begun talking again before she’d had to. “Let us pray on the topic of your employment, shall we?”
She’d nodded, and when he’d dropped to his knees, Chloe had followed suit. For an hour and half they bent down on their knees until she thought hers might break from the effort. While he was on the plush carpet, she’d been on the bare floor. But she’d stayed where she was. She’d needed this position.
He’d finally released her, declaring that God found her suitable.
She’d been limp with relief, or perhaps it was the strain. Either way, her legs had barely lifted her as she expressed her gratitude.
And now she faced the next Duke of Whitehaven.
Her breath caught as she focused back on the present. The creaking of the knob making her hold her breath as she stared at the door.
It swung in and Whitehaven filled the entry.
She didn’t quite suppress her gasp. First, because he was large. She ought to be used to it by now. His younger brother, Lord White, was also massive but somehow, the duke seemed even bigger. Was it a trick of the doorway?
But also…he was handsome. Dangerously so. His dark brown eyes seemed to penetrate into her very soul as he stared at Chloe.
His jaw was square, his mouth set in a frown that made his features appear sharp. His neck appeared well muscled, and not even his cravat could hide the thick cords.
“How are you?” he said, his voice a deep baritone that shivered down her spine.
Fear skittered along skin as she drew in a sharp breath. Had she planned to protect Millie? Her tongue tied as she continued to stare at him.
“Hello to you too, brother,” Millie said standing. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He grunted, his eyes flicking to his sister. “Millicent.”
“Millie,” she corrected. “And this is my companion, the Honorable Chloe Fairly. She’s been indispensable these past few years.”
Chloe swallowed down a lump. Millie was clearly looking out for her.
The duke grunted again, barely glancing at her. “And Destrian? Where is he?”
Millie shrugged. “At sea.”
“And when will he be back?” The man’s voice could have cut stone it was so sharp.
Millie stared at her brother. “You’ll have to ask him.”
Chloe’s lips parted. Millie was normally very shy, near silent around anyone with the exception of Chloe and Dez.
The man’s brows shot up. “If I could ask him, I wouldn’t need to ask you.”
Chloe took a half step forward, swallowing her fear. “It’s nice to meet you, Your Grace.”
He didn’t acknowledge her greeting in any way. Nor did he look at her as he once again addressed Millie. “Do you have any idea when he’ll return?”
“Why do you wish to know?” Millie asked, her shoulder’s straightening.
“That is my business,” he bit back. “Answer the question.”
Chloe stepped in front of Millie then. This man was as surly and dangerous as his father had been. Their best bet was to spend as little time with him as possible. “Your Grace, when he does return, we will happily convey any message you wish. Just tell us and we’ll—”
“No.” Came his single word reply. “You are dismissed.”
Chloe blinked. Dismissed? From the conversation?
“Benedict Cumberland,” Millie gasped. “Don’t be absurd.”
“It’s Whitehaven now,” he replied, his full lips thinning over his teeth.
“I see that. And you’re doing your best to act as beastly as our father. Well done.”
Chloe saw it then. The flash of uncertainty that filled his eyes. It was only there a moment, crinkling the corners of his lids before it was gone.
“Millie,” he said, raising his hands.
“Take it back. You’ll not dismiss Chloe. She’s nowhere else to go and besides, I’ll need a companion to chaperone me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, all uncertainty gone. “You’ve already got a stepmother, with no other occupation, that I now have to support. Her,” he pointed in Chloe’s general direction, “position is redundant.”
“Your Grace,” Chloe took another step forward. “I will make myself useful, I can assure you.”
His gaze raked over her as he stood straighter. “Will you Miss…?”
“Fairly,” she replied. She hated having to beg but it was an unfortunate part of being destitute. She’d had to bend to the fourth Duke of Whitehaven, and she’d do the same with the fifth. But inside, she hated him for it.
“I’ll consider keeping you on if you tell me what I wish to know. Where is my brother?”
She swallowed, looking back at Millie. Millie clearly didn’t want her brother to know where Lord White was and when he’d return but Chloe had no choice. How was this man driving a wedge between the two friends already?
Ben saw the hesitation in the woman’s eyes. Miss Chloe Fairly. She knew where Destrian had taken himself off to and when he’d be back, but she didn’t want to say.
Millicent knew as well, but he could tell, by the set of her jaw, that he’d not get a word out of her. With her brothers, she’d dig in her heels and refuse to budge. He supposed it was natural for a woman who’d grown up with such rough men for siblings to be so stubborn. Or perhaps it was simply because she was a White.
But he’d forgotten that about her. Forgotten a great deal about the youngest White.
Not that it mattered. He’d deal with his sister later. His gaze swung back to the other woman. The companion. Miss Fairly.
Her gold hair had a touch of red that brought out the flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her blue eyes. Her lips were as full and lush as her figure.
He liked a soft woman. Not fat but full in all the right places and she was just his type. He hadn’t actually been terminating her employment when he’d initially spoken, he’d only meant that she ought to leave the room and allow him and Millicent to speak but his sister had assumed the worst. When didn’t a White assume the worst of another White?
And the moment the words had left his lips, he’d allowed the misunderstanding to continue. The last thing he needed was another woman to take care of. He was an island. He didn’t need an infirmary of women in need of care populating his self-inflicted desertion.
“Your Grace?” Miss Fairly started, her lips trembling. “Please. I…”
He let out a heavy breath of frustration. Did everyone think him a complete ogre? Was he acting like one? Probably. It had been so long since he’d
been in the company of cultured ladies. “Miss Fairly.” He bit out. “Speak or don’t speak but don’t quibble.”
She straightened and he watched her fear turn to anger. “Your brother is a White. He does not feel the need to inform anyone of his affairs.”
His lips parted in surprise. She had a spine after all. He liked her. He certainly liked looking at her. He’d clearly upset her, and her chest rose and fell in her irritation, her bosom heaving. Delightful. “Fine.” He looked her up and down. “But how do you suppose to prove yourself useful if you can’t furnish the one piece of information I need?”
“We’re not answering you until you answer us. Why do you want to see him or me for that matter?” Millicent asked from behind Chloe.
He gave a brief look over Miss Fairly’s shoulder to his sister. She was not but a girl when he’d left and now.… He crossed his arms. She was a woman with the same streak of stubbornness all Whites had. “Did my letter not explain? Our father is dead.”
Both women grimaced and he found his gaze settling back on Miss Fairly. Her head dipped as she spoke. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He shook his head. “Millicent saw him far more than I did. Give your sympathy to her.”
“Millie,” Millicent said from behind her protector. “Only Father insisted I be called Millicent.”
That was true. “Fair enough.”
She stepped up next to Miss Fairly, threading an arm through the other woman’s. In that moment, Ben had a tiny stab of jealousy. His sister had a friend…a companion she trusted and who instinctively protected his sister. Ben never allowed anyone that close.
He had his father to thank for that. As children, anytime the siblings had tried to unite, his father had done his utmost to drive a wedge between them. It was one of his many tricks.
“And his death does not explain why you wish to see me. The solicitors see to my tuition. I’ll be married soon enough, and you’ll only need sign the contracts.”
Her Wicked White Page 2