Rule's Bride (7 page)

He tried to explain about Howard Griffin's illness and the arrangement the man had made to secure his daughter's future, but the more he talked, the more smug smiles and winks he received and the more irritated he became.

It surprised him to feel so protective of Violet when he had never felt that way about a woman before. He hadn't known his mother, who had died giving birth to him. The only females in his family were his frail old aunt Agatha,
whom he adored as the mother he never had, and his sisters-in law, whom he greatly respected.

He told himself his protectiveness came simply because Violet was his wife and not because he was so strongly attracted to her, not because he admired her for having the courage to travel all the way to England to confront him.

He watched her laughing at something Reese said. Reese, who rarely joked and hardly ever smiled until he married Elizabeth.

Rule liked it when Violet smiled. He would like it even more if one of those sweet smiles was intended for him.

He watched her until, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her cousin, Caroline. He straightened as he realized the girl was in conversation with his best friend, Lucas Barclay. Good God, Caroline Lockhart was as innocent as Violet, and, he noticed for the very first time, far more beautiful than he had realized.

And Luke was eyeing her like a wolf with a fresh piece of meat.

Rule strode toward them. “I see you've met my cousin, Miss Lockhart.”

One of Luke's dark eyebrows went up. “Your cousin?”

“My wife's cousin. My cousin by marriage.” Rule tried for a smile but it was thin at best.

“Ah, yes. I have yet to meet your lovely bride. Amazing, isn't it? My best friend has a wife and I am the last to know.”

Rule sighed. “It's a long story. I realize I owe you an explanation. Perhaps over lunch on the morrow?”

“Oh, indeed. Better late than never.” Luke's tight smile softened as he gazed down at the little blonde. “In the meantime, Miss Lockhart has just agreed to partner me in a waltz.” He extended his arm. “Shall we, Miss Lockhart?”

She accepted Luke's arm and returned his smile. “I would be delighted.”

They started forward but Rule stepped in front of them. “One dance, Luke. That's all.”

Luke eyed him darkly. He made a stiff nod of his head. “I shall keep your wishes in mind.” But he didn't say he would obey them. Luke was angry that Rule had kept his marriage a secret.

He had a right to be, Rule supposed. The two of them were like brothers.

But then he hadn't told his brothers, either.

He watched the couple on the dance floor, Luke tall and dark, Caroline small, blue-eyed and fair. They made a handsome couple, might even make a good match—except that Luke was the biggest rake in London and fiercely opposed to marriage.

Rule inwardly sighed. Already his duties as husband were starting. He had a responsibility to his wife, but also to her family. He blew out a breath, wishing his first duty wasn't to guard his cousin-in-law against his best friend.

H
alf an hour passed. Rule decided to make a quick trip through the gaming room, see what sort of fires he might put out there, then collect his wife and go home.

He smiled as he walked down the hall, oddly pleased by the thought.
My wife.
Never once had it occurred to him he might like having a woman belong to him. Still smiling, he had just turned the corner when a lady gowned in scarlet silk appeared in front of him. Evelyn Dreyer, Viscountess St. Ives.

“Good evening, my lady,” he said to his former mistress. “You're looking quite splendid tonight.” With her pale blond hair and amazing cheekbones, she was a beautiful woman. Rule gazed at her and thought of hair the color of flames and a pert nose dotted with intriguing little freckles.

“I just heard the news,” Evelyn said with a viperous smile. “You are married.”

“Yes, I am.”

“For quite some time, I gather.”

“Three years.” Though still not officially, since he hadn't yet bedded his bride, but that was none of Evie's business.

Her mouth thinned. Before he realized her intent, her hand snaked out and connected solidly with his cheek.

“You're married,” she said. “How dare you!”

Rule rubbed his cheek. “In case you have forgot, my dear, you are also married. In point of fact, your husband is currently standing in the ballroom.”

“It is not the same thing.”

“Indeed? The viscount might disagree.”

“Harold is old and ugly and cannot even function while your wife is…is…”

“Beautiful and desirable?”

Her slender nose went into the air. “I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to marry Harold. You could have married someone else.”

Ignoring the statement, she pinned him with a glare. “You should have told me.”

“I should have told a lot of people. My apologies, madam.” He made her a mocking half bow. “And now, if you will excuse me…”

Evelyn said nothing more, but her cheeks still carried an angry flush, and he could see that ending their affair had disturbed her far more than she had admitted.

It didn't matter.

It wasn't Evelyn Dreyer he wanted in his bed. It was the woman he had married.

A jolt of desire speared through him and his shaft went hard. He wanted Violet Dewar and he meant to have her.

It was only a matter of when.

 

Violet stepped back into the shadowy alcove indented into this section of the hallway. Her heart was beating, thrumming like a bird trapped in her chest.

She had been on her way to the ladies' retiring room
when she spotted Rule in the corridor in conversation with a woman. She was tall and statuesque with high, carved cheekbones and a lush bosom no man could miss. Her eyes were dark, her lips full and red. She appeared to be several years older than Violet and she was beautiful. Violet couldn't hear the conversation, but clearly the woman was angry.

She took a deep breath. Setting a hand over her heart, she willed it to slow. She knew exactly who the lady was, the only person it could be.

She recalled the most recent conversation she had overheard in the ballroom.

“You don't suppose his marriage has anything to do with his mistress, Lady St. Ives? I heard they parted on very bad terms. Perhaps he married the chit out of spite.”

He hadn't, of course. He had married her for money and power, not vengeance.

She thought again of the beautiful Lady St. Ives. Violet wasn't surprised to learn Rule had kept a mistress. Most married men did.

And in truth, as he had said, they were not, in the strictest sense, actually married.

Still, it bothered her. She didn't like to think of him kissing the blonde, doing more than kissing.

I will show you what is more than kissing,
he had said, almost as if it were a vow.

She drew in a shuddering breath.
The man is a rogue of the very worst sort,
she reminded herself, but she couldn't get that kiss out of her head.

Checking to be certain the pair no longer stood in the hallway, Violet continued on to the ladies' room. She was on her way back, nearing the alcove she had hidden in before when she heard Rule calling her name, and a little shiver went through her.

“There you are. I've been looking all over.”

She thought of the elegant blonde. “Have you? I thought perhaps you were looking for someone else. Lady St. Ives, perhaps?”

He frowned. “So you've heard. I imagined you would, sooner or later.”

“Actually, I saw the two of you together in the hall.”

He glanced away, released a weary breath. “I won't lie to you, Violet. I'm a man and a man has needs. The affair is over. Has been for some time. I have no interest in Evelyn Dreyer and won't anytime in the future.”

She pondered the words, wondered if they were true. “I see.”

“I hope you do.”

Her eyes widened as he began to ease her backward into the alcove. His arms came around her, drawing her close, and his mouth came down over hers.

It wasn't the same gentle kiss as before. It was a hot, taking ravishment so powerful it made her dizzy. Her fingers curled into the muscles across his wide shoulders. Her mouth parted under his fierce assault and his tongue slid over hers.

Violet made a little mewling sound and simply clung to him, swamped with sensation and completely unable to think. He tasted of brandy and she could smell his spicy cologne. Her body was thrumming, pulsing. Every feminine part of her ached with the need for more of what he offered.

Rule finally ended the kiss, but kept an arm around her as if he knew he had left her weak in the knees.

He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. “God, I want you.”

Violet stood there trembling. “You…you can't keep doing that.”

“Kissing you? I'm your husband. I can kiss you whenever I wish, and furthermore, I intend to do it every chance I get.”

“But…but…”

“You gave me thirty days to convince you. That is what I am doing—convincing you.”

“But I can't just… You can't just… We can't just…”

“Yes, we can. Come along, sweet wife. Let us collect your cousin. It is past time we went home.”

Violet swallowed, but she didn't argue. She had mistakenly thought she would be safe from Rule at a very large, well-attended ball.

She had just discovered there was no place she was safe from Rule Dewar.

 

Violet lay on the mattress staring up at the ice-blue canopy above her head. Guilt rested like a heavy weight on her chest. She shouldn't have been kissing Rule. She was going to marry Jeffrey. She shouldn't have responded the way she did.

Dear God, why had she agreed to Rule's ridiculous arrangement in the first place?

But, of course, at the time it had seemed the best solution, the easiest way out of the marriage. No attorneys, no scandal, just a quiet annulment to which Rule had promised to agree.

She sighed into the quiet of the room, trying not to remember tonight's kiss, the incredible sensations that had burned through her body. Surely it was merely a physical response. If Jeffrey kissed her that way, she would feel exactly the same.

A sound reached her from the hallway outside her bedroom. She jerked upright at the squeak of the silver door-knob turning. Surely Rule wouldn't—

She relaxed as Caroline slipped into the bedroom and told herself she didn't feel a flicker of disappointment.

“We didn't get to talk after the ball,” Caroline said, plopping down on the edge of the mattress in her nightgown and pink silk wrapper. Low flames curled over the grate in the hearth, banishing the chill and lighting the room with a soft yellow glow. “Wasn't it simply magnificent?”

Violet scooted back, propping herself up against the headboard. “I suppose it was.”

“You suppose? Good heavens, I had a marvelous time. I danced until my slippers were nearly worn out.”

“You weren't the one having to pretend to be something you are not.”

“Like a wife, you mean?”

“Like Rule's blissful bride.”

Caroline wound a lock of long blond hair around the tip of her finger. “I think his family liked you. I don't suppose that truly matters, but still…”

“I wanted them to like me. They are very nice people.”

Caroline eyed her with suspicion. “You aren't thinking you might stay married?”

“Of course not.” She examined a fold in the satin counterpane. “Rule had a mistress. Did you hear?”

Caroline sighed. “I heard the gossip. Everyone was buzzing about it. She was there, you know.”

“I saw them together. Rule says the affair is over, but that doesn't mean he doesn't intend to replace her with someone else. Most married men think nothing of keeping a mistress.”

“You are better off with Jeffrey.”

“I know.”

“Did you meet anyone interesting?” Caroline asked.

“Actually, I did. A potential buyer for the company. A
man named Burton Stanfield. Apparently he made an offer but Rule turned it down.”

“Did you ask him why?”

“Not yet, but I intend to. Of course, he couldn't have accepted without my approval even if he had wished.”

“Maybe he doesn't want to sell. Maybe he likes running the company.”

“Once the marriage is annulled, I become sole owner of Griffin and I can do whatever I want. I don't want to make weapons that could be used in a war to kill my family and friends.”

“It's going to come to that, isn't it? We're going to have some sort of revolution?”

“Yes, I feel certain we are. At any rate, Rule has done a good job thus far and I'd like to know his thoughts on Stanfield as a buyer. At the same time, I don't want to alert him to the fact I intend to sell. I'll have to tread carefully.”

Caroline grinned. “You can do it. You are good at getting what you want.”

It was true, though lately, where Rule was concerned she felt greatly out of her element.

“I met someone interesting tonight, myself,” Caroline said.

Violet's interest sharpened. “Did you? Who was it?”

“He is a friend of your…of Rule's. His name is Lucas Barclay.”

“Good grief, you can't be serious. People were talking nearly as much about him as they were about Rule. The man is notorious.”

In the firelight, Violet caught her cousin's smile. “Luke is a marvelous dancer and unbelievably handsome.” She grinned. “And I've never been one to listen to gossip.”

“Luke? You call him Luke? You had better be careful,
cousin. What would your grandmother say if she knew you were spending time with a rogue like Barclay?”

“It was only a dance, Vi. And speaking of my grandmother…I have put off my visit for as long as I dare. Grandmother will begin to worry. I am going to see her tomorrow. She'll want to meet you. Will you go with me?”

“Of course I will.”

“She's expecting me to stay for at least the next few weeks.”

Violet nodded. “I know you have obligations. But I shall miss you terribly.”

“It won't be all that bad. Grandmother lives here in London. We'll be able to see each other often.”

But Violet would be alone in the house with Rule. She didn't trust him.

More importantly, she wasn't sure she could trust herself.