Rule's Bride (11 page)

 

Rule sat behind the desk in his study. A stack of drawings he had brought home from work sat in front of him, illustrations of new weapon designs, changes in some of the rifles and muskets currently being built. He needed to go over each one, decide which improvements he wanted to make, develop ways to implement the necessary changes in order to see them done.

Instead, all he could think of was Violet and what had happened between them last night.

She had suffered a terrible trauma. He shouldn't have made love to her, yet he couldn't truly say he was sorry. It would have happened, sooner or later. He was determined in the matter of making their marriage real.

He shoved back his chair. If she wasn't awake by now, he would awaken her. He was worried about her. He needed to be certain she was all right.

He started for the door just as it opened without the slightest warning. Surprised to see Violet walk into the study and head straight toward him, he began to smile, thinking about last night and wanting her again.

Violet didn't smile back. Her pretty lips compressed, seemed to lack their usual sensuous curves, and slight smudges darkened the skin beneath her leaf-green eyes. She looked tired and well ravished—and utterly beautiful.

She stopped directly in front of him. “How could you? How could you do it?”

He blinked. He had considered she might be a little upset, but noticing the fire in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks, he realized she was furious.

“You could have stopped me, Violet. You wanted me to make love to you. Surely you don't deny it.”

Her lips flattened out even more. “I was frightened. I needed your care and concern, not your—your—”

“Lovemaking?” he supplied, though he knew she was thinking of the part of his anatomy that was stirring to life even now.

“You took advantage. You knew the way I felt. You knew I wanted an annulment.”

Rule didn't move. The scent of violets drifted up from her hair and he clamped down on a surge of lust, hardly
appropriate under the circumstances. “You may have come to London with that intention. It was
my
intention that we stay married. I've never lied about that.”

She clamped her hands on her tiny waist and glared up at him. “You wanted to keep your half interest in the company. That is all you've ever cared about.”

Rule shook his head. “That isn't true. I may have married you for business reasons in the beginning. Marriages are often forged for purposes other than love. Last night, I simply wanted you. And if you're honest, sweeting, you also wanted me.”

Her chin inched up. “After the fire and barely escaping with my life, perhaps I reacted in a manner that I shouldn't have. I may have desired you last night. What I want this morning is a divorce.”

Rule's eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me. You took advantage. You got what you were after. You're half owner of Griffin. Now give me what
I
want.”

His chest felt tight. He hadn't expected she would be this distraught. They were well suited. He had hoped she would see that. He only shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Do you understand what it takes to get a divorce?”

She gave him a nasty smile. “Actually, I do. I would need to prove desertion, adultery or cruelty. I believe, after last night, you qualify for all three.”

A knot tightened in his stomach. He hadn't meant to be cruel. He had only wanted to make her his wife. “In regard to the first two, there were extenuating circumstances—of which you are aware. And I don't believe I was cruel to you in any way last night. Are you willing to distort the truth that much?”

She shrugged her small shoulders. “I realize your name would be somewhat besmirched, but—”

“
Somewhat besmirched?
My brother is a duke. We are one of the oldest families in England and never has a single Dewar ever divorced.”

“You should have thought of that last night.”

Rule forced himself under control. He might have taken advantage, but she had wanted him to make love to her, just as he had said.

He raked a hand through his hair. “Perhaps in a way you are right. Perhaps I should have behaved differently last night. But you weren't the only one affected by the fire. People died in that inferno. I was damned glad to be alive and so were you. You're my wife, Violet, and I needed you. I wanted to make love to you. I look at you now and I want to do it again.”

Soft pink rose in her cheeks.

“What happened between us last night was good,” he said. “Very good. Can you at least admit that much?”

She glanced away. “I—I barely remember last night.”

But he could see by the heightened flush in her cheeks that she remembered very well and that the experience had not been unpleasant.

He gentled his voice. “Give us a little more time, sweetheart. That is all I am asking. Stay with me a little while longer, see what it might be like to be my wife. See if perhaps you could be happy.”

She studied him with those perceptive green eyes. He could almost see her mind working. Long seconds passed. “I'll think about it,” she finally said, and he was surprised by the enormity of his relief.

He made a slight bow of his head. “Thank you.”

He watched her turn and walk out of the study, her full
skirts swaying enchantingly, and remembered the extent of her passions, the desire he had only begun to awaken. He would give her a little time, then talk to her again.

Unfortunately when the time came and he went in search of her, he discovered she was gone, and the knot returned to his stomach.

V
iolet hurried past the butler into Adelaide Lockhart's three-story brick residence in Belgravia. To her relief the lady of the house was away visiting a sick friend, leaving Caroline at home. Her cousin was making her way down the hall off the entry when she spotted Violet.

“Good grief, look at you! You are pale as a ghost!” Caroline reached out and caught both of Violet's hands. “What on earth has happened?” Even as she spoke, she led Violet down the corridor into the family drawing room and hurriedly closed the sliding doors.

Violet sank down on the burgundy horsehair sofa. Her head had resumed its throbbing and she hadn't eaten since yesterday luncheon.

Caroline eyed her worriedly. “I'll have the butler bring us some tea. And from the look of you, some cakes would not go amiss.”

“Thank you,” Violet said weakly. Now that her confrontation with Rule was over, her vitality seemed to have fled.

Neither of them spoke more than a few words until the tea cart arrived and the butler had left the room, giving
them privacy once more. Caroline poured tea from a silver pot into a pair of porcelain cups and handed one of them to Violet, along with a plate filled with tiny frosted cakes and flaky shortbread biscuits.

“Your hands are shaking. You had better eat something before you get sick.”

“I am already sick.”

Caroline's head came up. “Dear Lord, what's happened?”

Violet lifted her teacup and managed a careful sip. “Have you… Have you heard about the fire last night? I thought it might be in the morning papers.”

“Great heavens, yes. At the Royal Pantheon. Twenty-two people were killed at this morning's count. Some of them crushed in the stampede to get out, some of them burned to death trying to escape the flames. I cannot imagine such horror.”

Violet's hands started shaking even harder. She set the teacup down without taking another drink. “We were there. Rule and I. We went to see the play.”

“Oh, my God!” Caroline set her cup and saucer on the table in front of the sofa, hurried over to Violet and gathered her into her arms. “Oh, my poor dear cousin. Are you all right? What about Rule? Dear God, tell me neither of you were injured.”

Violet shook her head. She took a shaky breath and expelled it. “It was a nightmare, Caroline. I still can't get the horrible images out of my head. Rule… Rule saved my life. Both of us nearly died last night.”

“Oh, my poor dear.” Caroline kept an arm around her, steadying her a little. “Is that why you came? You wanted to talk about what happened?”

“I wanted to talk about what…what happened after.”

Caroline frowned. “After? What do you mean?”

“We were both upset. Rule took care of me, tried to console me. We made love, Carrie. Rule and I made love.”

Caroline just stared. “You and Rule, you…you…”

Violet managed a nod. “At the time, it was as if it weren't actually real, as if…as if it were some sort of dream. I was so grateful to Rule for saving me and I was so glad to be alive. Now…well…I'm not a virgin anymore.”

Caroline's pale blue eyes widened. “Oh, my.”

“Exactly. So you see why I am upset. I can no longer get an annulment, and Jeffrey will never forgive me.”

Caroline sat up a little straighter on the sofa. “Dewar took advantage of you. You must have been frantic. You were probably half out of your mind with fear. The man is the cad you have always believed. Good heavens, what are you going to do?”

“I told him I wanted a divorce.”

“Oh, my God!”

Violet sighed wearily. “The thing of it is, Carrie, I could have stopped him. I wanted him to kiss me, to touch me. I wanted to feel all of the things he made me feel.”

Caroline squeezed her hand. “Was it…was it wonderful, then?”

Violet felt the color creeping into her cheeks. “You've heard the gossip about him. They say women clamor to get into his bed. The man is a practiced lover and, yes, it was wonderful. But he only did it to secure his portion of the company. Making love to me meant nothing to Rule, less than nothing. And I won't let it happen again.”

“So you are truly getting a divorce?”

Violet stared down at her lap. “I don't know. It carries a terrible stigma. I would be shunned from Boston Society. People would no longer invite me into their homes.”

“And there is the not-so-small problem that after last night, you may be carrying Rule's child.”

Violet's head shot up. “Goodness, I hadn't even thought of that.” Though strangely enough, the notion of having Rule's baby was not at all unpleasant. “He asked me to give the matter some thought, see if…see if I might reconsider. He wants me to find out if being his wife could possibly make me happy.”

Caroline shook her head. “I don't know, Vi. I don't trust him.”

“Neither do I.”

“Still, you are married—and in more than just name.”

“I know.”

“And if it was truly wonderful—”

“That doesn't matter.”

“I think it would matter to me.”

Violet gazed off toward the window. “I have to write to Jeffrey. I can't let him go on planning a future that includes me as his wife.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“I'll see it done today.” She rose from the sofa, but Caroline tugged her back down.

“You are not leaving here until you have a cup of tea and something to eat.”

Violet closed her eyes against a fresh wave of dizziness. Her cousin was right. She had to take care of herself. She had to be strong to find a way out of the awful dilemma in which she found herself.

Time was the answer. She would stay a while longer in London. And while she was there, she would accomplish her second reason for coming. She would inform Rule of her decision.

She would tell him she intended to sell her half of the company.

 

Violet hadn't returned by late afternoon. Rule had no idea when she had last eaten and he was beginning to worry she might fall ill. Dammit to hell, so they had made love. That was what married couples did.

And both of them had enjoyed it.

Violet hadn't admitted it, but she hadn't denied it, either. What he needed to do was make love to her again and quite thoroughly. Sooner or later, she would see how good they were together and she would forget this ridiculous notion of getting a divorce.

He sat behind his desk, examining ways he might return to her bed, trying to find a solution to his dilemma, but getting no suitable answers. He glanced up at the sound of a sharp knock at his door, saw Royal walk into the study. There were lines across his forehead that weren't usually there and his jaw looked tight.

“I just heard about the fire at the theater last night. Lily and I have been frantic with worry.”

Rule shook his head. “It was bad, I can tell you. Fortunately, Violet and I escaped without physical injury.”

The tension left his brother's face and his shoulders relaxed. “You mentioned you planned to take your wife. When we read the paper this morning, we feared the worst.”

Rule raked a hand through his hair. “I don't know how I'll ever get the images out of my head. I thought we might die in there. As it turned out, we were among the lucky ones and both of us escaped.”

Royal walked over and sat down in a leather chair in front of Rule's desk. “Reese is already returned to Briarwood. I told Lily I would send word to her at home as soon as I was sure you were all right.”

“I am fine, but Violet is still a little shaken.” That was putting it mildly.

“So it was as bad as the newspapers said.”

“Worse. The place was an inferno. It was a miracle we got out.” Rule fought a memory of Violet falling beneath the crush in the hallway, the smothering weight of people pinning her to the floor. He pushed back from his desk and stood up. “I believe I need a drink. Would you care to join me?”

Royal shook his head. “I've meetings this afternoon. Brewery business.”

“Of course.”

“So aside from the two of you nearly dying, how are things going between you?”

Rule poured brandy into a snifter and took a drink. “If you're asking if I've made the marriage real, the answer is yes. Unfortunately, my timing wasn't the best and now my wife wants a divorce.”

Royal's golden eyes widened and he sat up straighter in his chair. “Tell me you are jesting.”

“I wish I were.”

Royal surprised him with a grin. “And for years I've been hearing what a great lover my youngest brother is. Why don't you simply put those skills to use and make her fall in love with you like half the women in London?”

Rule sipped his drink, for a moment actually wondering if it might be possible. But he had betrayed Violet's trust two times already.

“That would hardly be fair, since I am not in love with her.”

Royal leaned back in his chair. “But you admit you care for her.”

“I care for her a very great deal. But caring for someone and being in love are far different things.”

Royal eyed him closely. “I believe there may be hope for you yet, little brother.”

“Why is that?”

“Thinking of Violet's needs before your own. That hasn't happened with a woman before.”

“I haven't had a wife before.”

Royal smiled. “Exactly so.”

They talked of more mundane matters for a while, of Royal's plans for expanding the brewery. Finally, he rose from his chair. “I had better get home and tell my wife you and Violet are safe or she will have my head.”

“Tell her we appreciate her concern.”

“I'll send a note to Reese, as well, in case he hears you were there.”

Rule just nodded. As he watched his golden-haired brother disappear out the door, for the first time in his life, Rule envied the man his happy marriage.

 

For the next two days, Violet declined to join Rule for breakfast or supper, pleading exhaustion and nerves from her ordeal.

In truth, she simply wasn't ready to face him.

Now that her anger had faded, her thoughts kept straying back to the night he had made love to her. She recalled every kiss, every touch. The way it had felt when he had been inside her.

The memories kept popping into her head and every time they did, her body went warm with desire.

Dear God, she had never thought of herself as a passionate sort of woman. Now she wondered. Was it merely that making love had awakened her womanly needs? Or was it something more? Whatever the truth, sooner or later she
had to face him. She was his wife and at least for the present that would not change.

And there was the matter of her decision to sell the company—at least the half she retained.

Violet prowled the house all morning, occasionally distracting herself with reading and embroidery, wishing she had something more interesting to do. But Rule had returned to his daily routine of working in the office and he wouldn't be home until late in the afternoon.

Violet sighed. In Boston, every day she had made a trip to the factory, entering by the back door and working for most of the day. Her life was interesting and full, not empty and boring as it was here in London.

Returning to the small private drawing room she favored at the back of the town house, she picked up her embroidery hoop. When boredom set in once more, she napped for a while, just to pass the time.

She was waiting in Rule's study when he got home, reading a gothic novel she had found on a dusty, half-hidden bookshelf.

“So this is where you are.” Rule's deep voice held a note of warmth she hadn't expected. “I'm happy to see you are out of hiding at last.”

“I wasn't hiding.”

“Weren't you?”

She glanced away. “Well, perhaps a little.”

“Making love isn't a sin, Violet. It is supposed to bring you pleasure.” His gaze ran over her. “Did it?”

She pretended not to understand him. “Did it what?”

“Did my lovemaking bring you pleasure? Because you certainly pleasured me.”

Her cheeks began to burn. “I told you, I hardly recall.”

Rule strode toward her, dark and tall, and at the moment
a little intimidating. He hauled her up from her chair and straight into his arms, and his mouth came down over hers.

It was a hot, ravishing, entirely thorough kiss and though she told herself to fight it, pleasure washed over her. He nibbled her bottom lip and kissed the corners of her mouth before he lifted his head, breaking the contact.

“Does that help you recall?”

Her cheeks were flaming now. Oh, she remembered, all right. She remembered his kisses, his mouth on her breasts, the feel of his heavy length moving inside her. She remembered the incredible sweep of pleasure, the heart-pounding ecstasy she had felt in those final, blissful moments.

She looked up at Rule and saw that he was remembering, too, and inside her corset, her breasts began to swell.

Violet glanced away. “I need to talk to you. It is a matter of some importance.”

“All right. Why don't we sit down? Shall I ring for tea?”

“Not unless you are inclined. I have had tea enough to last me a week.”

He chuckled softly. “Coffee, then?”

“No, thank you.”

“It doesn't sound as if you enjoyed your day.”

“I'll admit I've had more interesting days.”

Rule cast her a glance, but made no reply. Taking her hand, he led her over to the sofa in front of the hearth and they sat down on opposite ends. Violet tried not to notice the way he looked at her, his eyes a fathomless blue that should have seemed cold but instead burned with a heat that said how much he wanted her and warned her to be wary.

“So what did you wish to discuss?”

“Business. Besides the annulment I hoped to gain, I came to England for a second reason.”