Her Wanton White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Read online

  The only thing that had saved her from being subjected to more of Macklemeyer’s kisses was that her father had done so poorly in his wagers on the boxing match. He had no more coin for drinking, and so they’d returned home.

  But Violet now understood that she wasn’t going to save her father. She’d marry Macklemeyer and then the money would be gone in a blink, and he’d end up exactly where he’d started.

  Which is why she had no intention of marrying that odious man.

  She believed Justice when he said he’d catch him. She did.

  But also…something else was building inside her.

  If Justice didn’t succeed, she would not find herself trapped. She’d end things with Macklemeyer on her terms.

  Samantha was right. They’d have to strike out on their own, come up with some way to support themselves. She’d make her own future and live with the consequences.

  Samantha had asked Violet to help sell her work, and even Justice had told her she was good with people. Perhaps this was her calling. She’d do whatever else Samantha needed, as well. Whatever it would take to live her life freely.

  Violet would not allow herself to be one of the sheep as Sayden had said yesterday. She would make her own decisions.

  And her first choice was to kiss Justice White.

  Because she wanted to know what a real kiss felt like. She might not have another opportunity, so she’d take this one while it was standing before her, tall and exceedingly handsome.

  If any man could show her what real passion would mean, it was Justice. She had no idea if she’d ever wed, ever fall in love.

  She wasn’t certain, but the future was wide open for the first time in her life, and that was…wonderful.

  He stepped in front of her so that Samantha and Sayden couldn’t see them and then, cupping her face in his very large hands, his mouth covered hers in a slow soft brush of lips that stole her breath and her reason. And when he did it again, his lips gliding over hers, an ache tingled down her body, settling between her legs.

  Oh, his mouth was divine. The experience could not have been any more opposite from the last.

  And when he lifted his head, she realized, her eyes had closed. Her lashes fluttered open again, their gazes meeting. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied, still so close. Close enough that he could kiss her again at any moment. Sweet mother of Mary but she wanted him to.

  He slid a hand down her neck and over her shoulder, until he clasped her hand in his. “I should be thanking you,” he said, as he swung around to start toward the trees again.

  “Why would you thank me?”

  “Because,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you.”

  His confession made her smile. She’d wanted that, too. Truth be told, she was curious about…more. Not that any more was possible. But that kiss she would count as her first. That’s the one she’d remember. “I’m glad that I’ve had the chance to know you, Lord Justice.”

  “Just Justice,” he said, stopping once again. “Why is this starting to sound like a goodbye?”

  She drew in a shaky breath, her smile thin. “It does sound like that, doesn’t it? I don’t mean to put an end to our relationship. I hope to see you again, but we may never have a chance to be this candid and…” she said, stopping to collect her thoughts. “Your help with Macklemeyer is more appreciated than I could ever express. Even if you have your own reasons for intervening. But the truth is, once he’s gone and you’re gone, my father could simply find another man just like him.”

  Justice tripped. It was almost imperceptible, but she felt the way his feet hesitated, stuttered. “I understand.”

  “Last night I just decided I couldn’t abide it. I won’t.”

  He stopped then. “What happened last night?”

  She grimaced, her chin dropping. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.” He placed a finger under her chin, lifting it to look in her eyes. “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “It was nothing. But—”

  “What?” he asked again, his gaze narrowing into slits.

  “Macklemeyer. He…he kissed me, too, and—”

  “What?” his voice boomed through the air, echoing through her. “He did what?”

  “Justice,” Sayden called. “Are you coming or what?”

  “Hold on,” Justice gritted out, his teeth clenched. He pulled her close again, dropping his face closer to hers. The intimacy of position was not lost on her, especially since they were now in full view of Samantha and Sayden.

  “You’ve taken a fucking year to walk a hundred feet.” Sayden came striding toward them.

  “Language.”

  Sayden threw his hands in the air. “We need to hurry this lunch up.”

  Samantha came bustling behind him, her skirts held up in her hands. “Lord Sayden, did I say something to offend? I appreciate your participation today, and I was attempting to be helpful.”

  “You were,” Sayden replied. “Extremely. But now we need to get Parricide or Macklemeyer or whatever the bloody ass’s name is to prison so we can return to the manufacturing site.”

  Violet blinked several times. She’d been so engrossed in her conversation with Justice that she’d barely noticed her cousin at all. What had she and Justice been discussing?

  “Now you’re invested? How wonderful,” Justice replied. “But I’m hungry and we’ve a lovely picnic in our basket. Shall we eat?”

  Sayden frowned but gave a curt nod. “If we must. But I’d rather be chasing down our villain.”

  Justice lifted a brow. “If only someone had been able to follow him last night. Then we’d know where to find him now.”

  Sayden grimaced. “It was bloody crowded, but point taken. I shall endeavor to put my best effort forward and not see this as a holiday.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Let me get this straight,” Justice growled at his brother. “You want to take both women north?”

  Sayden appeared unperturbed by the threat that Justice’s hostile tone clearly implied. He sat with his feet kicked up on the table in front of him, his hands folded behind his head. “Precisely.”

  They’d returned Violet and Samantha home and then gone back to their family property, Cliffside. The ocean sounded below as a servant lit several candles in the dim light of the evening. “And you know that you cannot just take unmarried women gallivanting over the countryside. Not without consequences.”

  Sayden cocked a brow. “Samantha does not intend to marry, so it’s of no consequence.”

  “How do you know what Samantha intends?” He stood by the windows, his arms crossed. This was why he needed no man’s help. Sayden was only attempting to make the situation worse. Much worse. What had his older brothers been thinking, sending the wildest White into the company of ladies?

  “Because,” Sayden drew out the word in the most annoying manner possible. “She told me. Can you believe she does scientific research and then sells it to men to present as their own? As far as women go, I must confess, her initiative is rather impressive. So impressive, I shall call her Sam, rather than Samantha. She’s got a man’s mind.”

  Justice pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

  “Oh, please. Don’t make it sound like I’m interested in her romantically. She had me describe the manufacturing site to her. And when I did, she asked if there were bogs. When I said yes, she asked if I’d searched them for coal.”

  Sayden’s legs dropped back to the floor, his face lighting with enthusiasm. “I mean, could you imagine if there is coal? Poof,” his hands opened wide on either side of his head, “Instant business. We’ve done well but that…” he let his voice taper off. “It could solve all our problems. And it holds the necessary element of danger I require for my work. Sam said so. She described how we’d remove it from the ground.”

  Ju
stice’s jaw clenched. “And how does she know all of this?”

  “That’s the best part. She’d been researching aquatic life when she’d stumbled upon the fact that coal is often found in marshy areas. Knowing this would be of great value, she shifted her focus so that she’d be able to support herself. Reminds me of a younger me if I do say so myself. Except for the element of danger, of course. I can’t picture Sam looking for trouble or danger.”

  Justice knew of his brother’s penchant for all things unsafe. It was much the same as his own desire for a good hard fight. It had been the defining feature of his life and his greatest personal worry.

  Only lately—and this was rather curious—he hadn’t had the urge to fight at all.

  Not like before. Not a good, hard smacking around that would clear his head and calm the chaos in his mind. Could this last? Was that even possible? Because rather than hit, what he wanted to do was kiss. Violet. Often.

  Holy Hell…that kiss.

  Everything in him had come alive, every bit of skin, every pulsing nerve. He’d wanted to explore all the nooks of her mouth and then continue on with the rest of her body.

  He’d never wanted a woman more.

  “Justice. Are you listening?” Sayden’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

  “Not really,” he answered, staring out the window.

  “Then why the fuck did you ask?”

  He shrugged. “Violet intends to marry. And so, she can’t go.”

  “Yes, she can,” Sayden said, kicking his feet back up.

  “How do you figure that?” Justice turned to look at his brother.

  Sayden leaned back once again, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Why wouldn’t you take your wife with you?”

  Wife? What had he missed? “Sayden.”

  “Hear me out,” Sayden said, that devilish grin returning. “You want her. God, you look like one of those lovesick fools. Like Ben or Dez. Disgusting.”

  “I do not,” Justice ground out taking a step toward his brother.

  “Oh, please spare me the denials. You’re all possessive. You stare at her like she’s hung the moon. You stole a kiss in the park...yes, I saw that.” Sayden rolled his eyes. “The only way you can have her is to marry her. I mean, there are other ways of course, but I know for a fact you won’t ruin her. You respect her or something.”

  Finally, he saw a foothold in this conversation. “And by the sound of it, you respect Samantha. Are you going to marry her?”

  Sayden glared. That was the only word for the narrow-eyed expression he threw back at Justice. “I am not the marrying kind.”

  “Neither am I. Can you imagine me wed? I hit things rather that talk about my feelings. You remember what happened right before I left? How’s that going to work with a wife and children?”

  Sayden paused…his head turning to the side. “I know he beat you up pretty regularly. But Justice, you’re a good man.”

  “Yeah.” That was easy for Sayden to say. He didn’t have to worry about hurting others. Only himself.

  “It’s because you’re so damn strong. You threatened him.”

  Justice nodded. “Maybe. What if…” and then the pain throbbed in his chest. The kind that normally sent him straight to the ring. “What if I’m too strong with her? What if I hurt her?”

  Sayden sat back again. His pose was relaxed but his expression more thoughtful as he continued to stare at Justice. “Nah. Not gonna happen.”

  “How do you know?” His chest pulsed with an ache.

  “Because,” Sayden shrugged. “Underneath your hard exterior is a good man. That’s how you’re different from him. Always will be. And if you’re too hard on her or your kids, I’ll beat you myself.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Sayden chuckled then. “So, you’ll marry her?”

  “No.” He shook his head, but he couldn’t quite get the up the same level of vitriol in his voice. Part of him was…tempted. “I won’t marry her so you can start a coal mine.”

  “Why not? Marriages have been inked for far less.”

  His brother’s point was difficult to argue.

  “She’ll get a future that spares her from Macklemeyer and her scheming father. You’ll see her protected from here on out. You’ll get a new lucrative profession. Her cousin will get a substantial payment from us that will set her up in her own business and I’ll get a new, even dirtier job than making gunpowder.”

  “What’s dirtier than horse piss?” Justice asked, his lip curling up.

  “Think on it,” Sayden said. “You might find the idea grows of you.”

  Oh, the idea was already growing. He could picture Violet pressed against his side, naked in his bed, tucked safely in his home.

  “There is one more reason…” Sayden said, tipping back his chair as it precariously balanced on a single leg.

  “What’s that?”

  “You won’t have to chase Macklemeyer. He’ll come right to you, fists swinging.”

  Offense rather than defense. Fuck. Sayden was completely right.

  But he didn’t say that out loud either. Despite his brother’s words, he still had to wonder. In the long run, what kind of husband would he be? Was he any better than his father or Macklemeyer? He wasn’t certain he could say.

  Violet stood on the outskirts of a ball, her hand tucked in Macklemeyer’s arm, but her thoughts were on Justice and the kiss they’d shared in the park just hours before.

  Had it really only been a few hours? Standing there, it seemed as though it might have been days.

  Another lifetime.

  That had been such a happy moment. And this…

  She looked at Mr. Macklemeyer’s pale visage, his face set in a frown as he listened to her father.

  He likely hadn’t been lying about the illness. He was a bit hunched, his face drawn in tight lines of pain.

  Even knowing what she did about the man, the smallest bit of sympathy pulled at her. “Mr. Macklemeyer, are you certain you’re recovered enough to be out tonight? You don’t look well,” she murmured even as her father continued his long exposition on the importance of a viscountcy.

  He gave her a slight smile. “I’m fine, Miss Wright. Thank you for your concern.”

  “I should have asked last night,” she started. “But it was so much darker in the town square. I—”

  “Think nothing of it,” he cut her off. Then his gaze grew more assessing as his eyes travelled over her face. “But perhaps some air in the garden would help me feel better.”

  Her stomach clenched. Feeling a bit of a concern for the man was a far cry from wanting his lips on hers again. Especially after her kiss this afternoon. Mr. Macklemeyer had set her teeth on edge before…

  “I,” she started but another man approached and Macklemeyer’s attention shifted, focusing on the man who came toward them. Violet nearly sighed with relief, though she likely shouldn’t have. His face was rough with hair, as though he hadn’t shaved in days, his hair unkept and his clothes ill-fitted on his thin frame.

  “Hello, ahem—Macklemeyer,” the man grunted. “Might I have a word?”

  Violet’s breath caught as Macklemeyer nodded. “Excuse me, Miss Wright.” And he started for the doors that led to the garden. He didn’t look back, but she caught sight of his profile, the lines of his face hard and unreadable.

  She stood there for a moment, watching his retreating back.

  Justice had said he would take care of Macklemeyer but if that man were related to Macklemeyer’s illegal activities, she might be able to hear something that would help Justice or convinced her father this path was a folly. Either way, listening might shorten the time she had to participate in this farce of a courtship.

  She’d never been particularly good at deception but surely she could eavesdrop.

  With that in mind, she started after the two men.

  Her time of docilely waiting for others to solve her problems had come to an end. Even if she c
ouldn’t learn anything, perhaps it was time to tell Macklemeyer that she’d not wed him.

  They weren’t suited.

  She made her way to the garden doors, noting that Macklemeyer stood off in one corner of the terrace, his head bent low as he spoke with the other man.

  Violet couldn’t make out anything they said. She could wait just inside the doors and when they’d finished, use the moment to speak with Macklemeyer.

  But she didn’t just want to assert herself, she wished to help.

  And so, she slipped out the doors and skirted along the wall, positioning herself behind a row of hedges.

  “And the merchandise is stored safely?” Macklemeyer asked. “You found the cave I told you about?”

  “Snug as a bug in a rug,” the other man chuckled. “I have to admire your guts. Marrying the niece while hiding your stolen brandy under her uncle’s watch.”

  “Shh,” Macklemeyer said as he gave a quick glance around. Violet ducked even lower as her heart hammered in her chest. Justice had been right. He was nothing but a smuggler. She swallowed down her disgust as she continued to listen.

  “Sorry.” The other man cleared his throat. “And I’ve been able to purchase a ship. Congratulations, you’ve bought the first boat in your fleet. The Rosebud. She’s a bit squat, but she’ll do.”

  “Good.” Macklemeyer gave a nod. “We need to get the goods sold quickly. While I have no intention of paying nearly as much as her asinine father asks, I am going to make at least one more payment before that insipid little bitch and I are officially courting, and I can ask for her hand.”

  “Is that how it works?” the other man asked.

  She could just see them through the foliage as her hands covered her pounding heart. Surely, they could hear it.

  Macklemeyer blew out a breath. “Hell, if I know. It’s how it currently works with the viscount and his gaming debts.” His hands clenched at his sides. “He makes me sick, he’s so worthless but I need to marry into the peerage to help create a legitimate front. Among them, we’d have powerful allies with deep pockets that would buy our products for years to come.”