Rule's Bride (15 page)

“I ought to teach him a lesson,” Rule grumbled as they walked away.

“You needn't worry about Jeffrey. I told you that before.”

He looked down at her and his dark look changed to a slow, seductive smile. “Are you saying I should worry about you instead? I believe that is a very good notion. Tonight when we get home, I vow I shall see to your every need.”

Violet's stomach contracted. There was no mistaking his words, or the hot desire burning in his eyes. She steeled herself against a rush of heat she wished she didn't feel and tried not to look forward to the end of the evening.

 

In the faint glow of the torches, Caroline stood next to Lucas Barclay in the shadows at the edge of the terrace. She knew she shouldn't be out there with no chaperone and especially not with Luke.

His reputation with women was well-known. She had seen the way they watched him whenever he crossed a room. It was said he was ruthless where women were concerned.

And yet he had been nothing but a gentleman with her.

“You shouldn't be out here,” he said, his voice low and husky as he removed his coat and draped it around her shoulders.

She looked into the depths of his eyes. “Shall I go back inside?” She didn't want to go, but she wanted him to ask her to stay.

“That isn't what I want and you know it.”

She smiled. “I suppose I do.”

The edge of his mouth faintly curved. “Are all American women as independent as you and your cousin?”

She gazed up at him in the darkness. “Most men don't like independent women. So most women are afraid to behave that way.”

He chuckled, a soft rumble that made her insides soften. “Not you, though. You aren't afraid of anything, are you, Carrie? Not even me.”

He had called her that almost from the start, a pet name Violet had used on occasion ever since they were little girls.

“I should be. I have no idea why I'm not.” In the moonlight his dark eyes seemed to glitter. She wasn't afraid of him. She was only afraid he wouldn't kiss her. It seemed in that moment she would die if he didn't.

Luke didn't disappoint her. Moving closer, he captured her face between his big hands and settled his mouth over hers. What started as a simple tasting became an exploration. Luke nibbled the corners of her mouth and kissed her softly, and an odd weakness floated out through her limbs. When she parted her lips, his tongue slid inside and she heard him groan.

Luke broke the contact, though she wished he had not. “That was what you wanted, wasn't it?”

She stared up at him. “Yes.”

Luke backed away. “Dammit, Caroline, you know the kind of man I am. I don't want marriage—not now, maybe never.”

“I'm not ready for marriage, either.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “This is madness.” But he pulled her back into his arms. Deep drugging kisses followed. Slow, savoring kisses had her pressing herself against him, wanting more.

Luke did not oblige. Instead he broke the kiss, snatched his coat off her shoulders and turned her toward the door. “Go back inside and find your cousin before I do something we'll both regret.”

Caroline reached up to touch her kiss-swollen lips. Until she met Luke, it had never occurred to her that desire could be such a powerful force. For the first time, she understood Violet's attraction to Rule Dewar.

She glanced back over her shoulder for a last look at Luke. She could see his tall silhouette in the moonlight, his shoulders still taut.

“Good night,” she said softly and disappeared back inside the house. Skirting the ballroom, she headed for the ladies' retiring room to rid herself of any traces of Luke's passionate kisses. But the memories lingered.

She wanted more, she realized. She wanted him to touch her, to strip away her clothes and make love to her, and yet she knew that could not happen. Neither of them were ready for marriage. Perhaps Luke would never want a wife and family, and Caroline wasn't completely certain, either. Her parents' outright cruelty to one another made her doubt the merits of marriage.

It was time to return to Boston. If Violet didn't wish to go home, she would hire another traveling companion and make the journey alone.

Caroline sighed. If she ever did find the courage to wed, she hoped the man she married could stir at least some of the passion she felt in Luke Barclay's arms.

J
effrey returned to his hotel, the Parkland, and quietly entered his suite. A lamp was burning. A small fire glowed behind the grate in the hearth. He dragged off his coat and tossed it over a chair, then walked directly to the sideboard and poured himself a drink from the bottle of strong Tennessee whiskey he had brought from home.

“While you're at it, pour one for me,” came a deep, rusty voice from the shadows.

Jeffrey turned to see J. P. Montgomery—a big, barrel-chested man with curly brown side whiskers—rising from the overstuffed chair in the corner.

Jeffrey poured another drink, walked over and pressed it into J.P.'s blunt fingers. Montgomery hailed from Virginia, just as Jeffrey did. He was dedicated to his homeland, as Jeffrey was, and they had traveled together to London with a mutual desire to help the Southern cause.

“I wish I had good news,” Jeffrey said. “I had hoped to gain control of the armaments business through my marriage to Violet. I no longer believe that is possible.” He downed a hefty portion of his drink. “Perhaps if I had
come sooner, or convinced her not to come to London in the first place…”

But he had believed Violet loved him, as he loved her.

His chest tightened. He had met Violet through mutual friends at a house party in Boston. Though he was born in Virginia, he had moved north ten years earlier to attend Harvard Law School. He had obtained a degree, joined a prominent law firm and eventually lost his Southern accent.

His family was wealthy. He enjoyed the high life in Boston but missed his home and intended, once he married, to return.

He had rarely discussed his background with Violet, who clearly disapproved of slavery, and though she knew he was born in Virginia, he had never told her his family owned one of the largest cotton plantations in the South. It would all work out in due time, he had been sure.

Jeffrey knew the appeal of his blond good looks and charm. And he sincerely loved Violet. He had been certain she would marry him.

Now all of his dreams had come to naught.

“If we want our citizens properly armed, we need weapons,” he said, stating the obvious. “To get them, we're going to have to buy the company.” He took another swallow of his whiskey. “Violet has convinced Dewar to sell. If we can raise the money—”

“Money's no problem,” Montgomery drawled, his accent pronounced. “At least not yet.”

“Then we had best make an offer. Are you sure you want to buy the Boston factory, as well? Once this war gets started, there might be problems getting the guns out of the North.”

“We don't know how long it's gonna be before things might reach that point. We'll have some time. We'll stockpile as much as we can in the months to come.”

“That sounds good. I think we'll do better if our asso
ciation remains unknown. At the moment, I'm not high on Dewar's list of favorite people.”

Montgomery nodded. “I'll hire a man tomorrow to speak to Dewar's solicitor and make a formal offer.”

Jeffrey finished his drink. “The sooner the better. Once we're in control, we can go home.”

And he could forget Violet Griffin Dewar. At least he hoped he could. It bothered him to think of his sweet Violet defiling herself with a bastard like Dewar. She had been so innocent when they had first met.

One thing was certain. The sweet, genteel young woman he had fallen in love with was going to be hard to forget.

 

Violet awoke from a languid slumber, sunlight streaming into her bedroom through the windowpanes. When she moved beneath the sheets, her body felt tender, her breasts a little sore.

Hot color flooded her cheeks. As he had promised, Rule had come to her last night, and though part of her had wanted to deny him, they had made passionate love.

She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Dear God, it was nearly noon! She and Rule were supposed to go over the offer Charles Whitney had made. They were going down to the plant to collect the information Whitney needed to review.

Tossing back the covers, Violet pulled on her lavender silk wrapper and hurried over to the bellpull. Mary bustled in to help her bathe and change. Half an hour later, she was dressed and ready to face the day.

Unfortunately, when she arrived downstairs, Rule was already gone.

“He said not to worry, my lady,” Hatfield declared. “He said to tell you he would return with the offer and you could go over it together.”

Violet sighed. She thought of summoning her carriage and joining Rule at the office, but it was already so late in the day she decided to wait for his return. She glanced at the tall grandfather clock in the entry, knowing how long the hours would seem.

For a while, she walked in the garden, enjoying the brisk spring air and the tiny flowers pushing up through the soil, then she returned to the house and settled into the gothic novel she had been reading.

A sound in the entry she was certain must be Rule urged her to set her book aside and she jumped to her feet. It was Caroline who walked into the drawing room, her expression strangely glum.

“I hope I am not intruding.”

“No, of course not.”

“I came to tell you I am leaving.”

“Leaving!” Violet hurried toward her. “Surely not. I thought… I had hoped you would be staying much longer.”

Caroline removed her bonnet and tossed it into a chair. “It is past time I went home, Vi. I booked passage on a ship sailing for Boston next week.”

“Are you certain? It is such a long journey. Are you sure you don't want to stay at least a few more weeks?”

“I guess that means you have no interest in returning with me.”

“I'm married, dearest. My home is with my husband.”

“I know, but you spoke once of divorce. Are you saying that's no longer a possibility?”

She thought of last night and glanced away. “Not…not at this time.”

Both of them sat down on the sofa.

Caroline pinned her with a look. “You realize you are falling in love with him.”

Her eyes widened. “That is not true. I care for Rule and he cares for me.”

“And you want him.”

Violet colored faintly. “You are still an innocent. You wouldn't understand.”

Caroline's laugh held a faintly bitter ring. “I'm not quite the innocent you believe, Violet. My parents barely know I'm alive. I've had to make my own happiness. I suppose that is the reason I've done things that perhaps I shouldn't.”

Violet's eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about Lucas Barclay.”

“Barclay? But you barely know him.”

“Actually, I know him fairly well. We've met on several occasions. Last night I danced with him more often than I should have. Out on the terrace, I kissed him.”

“Good Lord, he didn't… He hasn't…”

“I am still a virgin, if that is what you are worried about. But now that I've met Luke, I've begun to understand desire. I wanted Luke to kiss me. I want him to make love to me. That is the reason I am leaving.”

“Great heavens, Carrie, Barclay is a dangerous man. He uses women and tosses them away like worn-out shoes. You can't possibly want a man like that.”

“Maybe I understand Luke better than other women. Underneath his tough facade, he is as lonely as I am. And he is not as bad as people believe. He knows I am attracted to him. Whenever we're together, desire crackles like sparks between us. He could seduce me if he tried and he knows it.”

“Good grief!”

“He hasn't because he doesn't want to hurt me.”

“He said that?”

“Of course not. It isn't what a man says, Violet, it's what he does.”

Perhaps that was true. Rule didn't love her, but the night of the fire, he had risked his life to save her. And when they made love, he took care of her needs as well as his own. She knew she was risking terrible pain in staying with him and yet she couldn't force herself to leave.

“The problem is that neither of us is ready for marriage,” Caroline continued, “and since I no longer trust myself where Luke is concerned, I am going home.”

Violet mulled that over. If she had never come to London, she would never have fallen prey to the desire she felt for Rule. She would have had her annulment and married Jeffrey instead.

Then again, she was no longer certain marrying Jeffrey would have made her happy as she had once believed.

Caroline stood up from the sofa. “I had better be going. I have a lot to do before next week. I'll see you before I leave.”

Violet walked her to the door. “I am going to miss you.”

Caroline leaned over and hugged her. “Me, too.”

“Give your family my regards when you get back to Boston.”

Caroline nodded, but both of them knew Caroline's family wouldn't really care one way or the other. The weeks her cousin had spent with her grandmother meant more to her than the years she had lived with her parents. Caroline had no brothers or sisters. Her father worked long hours simply to avoid his wife, and her mother was busy with her wealthy friends and her numerous affairs.

Caroline had grown up fast. Perhaps that was the reason she took chances, the reason she wanted to feel passion.

The reason she could so easily succumb to a man like Lucas Barclay.

Violet felt a wave of relief that her cousin would soon be going home.

 

The following day, two more offers to purchase Griffin came in. One was from Burton Stanfield, whom Rule had turned down once before. Another came from an American named J. P. Montgomery.

Rule was seated at his desk reviewing the paperwork when Violet walked into his office.

“You wished to see me?” She looked pretty today in a simple gray gown trimmed with heavy white lace. For an instant, he remembered the way she had responded to him last night, moving wildly beneath him and crying out his name.

His shaft stirred to life and inside his trousers he went hard. It was one of the drawbacks of working with a woman he desired.

Inwardly, he smiled. So far the positive aspects had outweighed the negative. Violet was doing a very good job of managing the day-to-day activities of the business, leaving him to the task of finding new opportunities in which they might invest.

And as he rose from his desk, he recalled the afternoon he had made love to her right there on the top—there was always a chance it would happen again.

He cleared his throat and forced his mind to the reason he had called her into his office. “Two new offers came in. One is from Burton Stanfield. You may recall meeting him.”

“I also recall you said he was an unscrupulous man of few principles.”

“That is what I said.”

“What about the other offer?”

“It's from a man named J. P. Montgomery. He's on his way here now.” He handed Violet the offer and she perused it carefully.

“This is a bit less than Whitney's.”

“True enough, but Montgomery may be willing to pay more. Why don't we see how we feel after we meet him?”

Montgomery arrived at the office a quarter hour later. Rule sent for Violet, who had gone back to work in the office he had provided for her down the hall. She walked in a few seconds behind the potential buyer.

“J. P. Montgomery,” the beefy man said, sticking out a meaty hand to Rule, who accepted it.

“Rule Dewar. This is my wife, Violet.”

“Ma'am.” He tipped his head in her direction. “So what did ya'll think of my offer?”

Rule flicked a glance at Violet, who hadn't missed the man's thick Southern drawl. “Is the offer coming directly from you or will you be purchasing it in some sort of partnership?”

“I'll be the man in charge. I'll have investors, of course, but the buck, so to speak, stops with me.”

“I see.” Rule invited him to take a seat in the small conference room off the working part of his office, and Montgomery appeared a little surprised when Violet walked in with the men.

“She owns half the business,” Rule explained. “She has as much right to the decision making as I do.”

“Fine by me,” Montgomery said, but he looked a little uneasy. Rule wondered if it was because she was a woman or if it was something else.

For the next few minutes, they went over the offer line by line, and Rule agreed that should they be willing to accept, he would provide company records and access to the plant for Montgomery's inspection.

When the meeting came to a close, the American made his farewells and left the office.

Rule turned to Violet, who had said almost nothing during the interview, which was a surprise to Rule. When it came to business, Violet held her own.

“So what did you think?” he asked.

“The price is lower but the terms are better.”

“Montgomery is offering to pay all cash. It doesn't get any better than that.”

Violet glanced away. “I know, but…”

He frowned. “But what?”

“But the man is… Montgomery is clearly a Southerner.” She looked up, beseeching him with those clear green eyes. “I can't abide slavery, Rule. I haven't come straight out and said that before, but I simply cannot.”

Rule released a sigh and sat back in his chair. “I had a feeling it was something like that.”

“Mr. Whitney is an Englishman. The English abolished slave ownership nearly ninety years ago. If he agrees not to sell arms to the South, I think we should let him buy Griffin.”

“Why haven't you mentioned this before?”

“To be honest, until I met Montgomery, it didn't actually occur to me that a Southerner might wish to buy the company.”

“Coming from Boston, I suppose it's only natural your sympathies would lie with the states in the North.”

“It isn't just that. I also have family and friends in the South. It is the issue of slavery itself. People owning other people. It simply isn't right. And I keep hoping…there is always the chance that if the North is strong enough, there won't be any war.”