Winter’s Wallflower

by Scott, Scarlett

  Well, damn. He had been hoping the lad would practice his talents on those outside the hell. Dom would have to have a talk with him. Still, if he was daring enough to trouble Devil, it was a good sign.

  He flashed his brother a grin. “His name is Davy.”

  “Ought to be Satan,” Devil muttered.

  Dom chuckled, but his amusement faded as his attention returned to the map. “Buying the land and offering competition to Sutton is the only way we can ease his grip on the people.”

  Devil made another low sound in his throat. “We can kill him.”

  Dom nodded. “When the time is right, we will strike.” He sent Devil another sidelong glance. “You truly think she will hate me?”

  “Do rats live in the East End?”

  Never one to coat his words in honey, Devil Winter.

  It would seem no matter what he did, Dom was bloody well doomed.

  “You are certain we must do this now?” Adele asked her husband as they waited in the entry hall of her father’s townhome while the butler announced their arrival to her father.

  Breaking the news of their nuptials was necessary, she knew. But with all the tumult of the last few days and them only having arrived back in London the day before, seeing her father with such haste made her stomach tighten into a knot.

  “Your father must be informed of our marriage,” Dom said at her side, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

  Yes, but why today?

  Why ever?

  Father would be livid. He may never speak to her again. Her siblings would be shocked. Mama would be properly horrified. Misery swamped her.

  “He must, yes,” she agreed, taking in the familiar confines of the entry hall as if she were a guest. Noticing new details which must have always been present and yet which she had never taken the time to note.

  “Are you ashamed of me, Duchess?”

  Adele’s gaze flew to her handsome husband. To look at him—dressed elegantly in a dark coat and waistcoat with buff breeches and a perfectly knotted cravat—one would never know he had been born to the rough world of the East End. Still, there remained a wicked, commanding air about him. She was certain his walking stick carried a secreted blade. There was a brace of pistols hidden in their carriage.

  And yet, she was not ashamed of him. Rather, she was proud of him. Proud of the kindness he was capable of showing. Of the hidden parts of himself he had revealed to her.

  “I am not ashamed of you, Dom,” she said softly. “I swear it to you.”

  His nostrils flared, and he nodded once, as if he had been awaiting her response. As if he had been uncertain of what she would say. Her heart gave a pang. He was not as self-assured and untouchable as she had once believed.

  Before they could indulge in further conversation, the butler returned, directing them to her father’s study. They were scarcely over the threshold when her father stalked toward them, his face red.

  He was furious.

  “What is the meaning of this, my lady? Bringing this brute as accompaniment? Your reputation will be in ruins if word of this should go beyond these walls.”

  She had never stood up to her father. Adele was the quiet twin. The one everyone underestimated. But she was more than the wallflower she had been painted.

  Dom tensed at her side, and Adele knew he wanted to speak on her behalf. Her hand on his coat sleeve was all that was required to shake him from his course. She sent him a telling look, hoping he could understand what she wished to convey to him.

  Let me handle my father.

  He searched her gaze, his jaw hardening, but in the end, her fierce and dangerous husband nodded and held his tongue.

  Gratitude swept over her, along with the rush of another sensation, stronger and more potent than what she had felt before. Warm and unexpected.

  Love.

  She fell in love with Dominic Winter as they stood before her disapproving father. The realization stole her breath for a heartbeat, but it also gave her strength. Courage. Determination to go on.

  A voice with which to speak.

  She turned her attention back to her formidable sire. “Mr. Winter is my husband, Father.”

  “The devil he is.” Her father surged toward Dom, as if he intended to physically attack him.

  Dom sidestepped her father’s advances neatly, a mocking grin on his lips she recognized too well. Here was the mask he donned for strangers. He was the fearsome Dominic Winter, hard and harsh and merciless.

  “I would take care if I were you, Linross,” he said. “Doing me harm is a right dangerous proposition. If my men were to discover, you could not run fast enough or hide yourself well enough from their retribution.”

  Father stopped. “Do you dare to threaten me, you despicable mongrel?”

  Adele had never heard such vitriol from her father before. It was almost as if he were familiar with Dom. But…how could that be?

  “I married Mr. Winter, Father,” she repeated. “It is true. I apologize for the haste with which our nuptials occurred, but it was unavoidable, I fear. I was unintentionally compromised at the house party, and we were left with no choice.”

  “Compromised? You?” Her father sneered. “A quiet girl such as you has nothing to recommend her save your face, and believe me, a pretty face is not what a bastard like him is seeking.”

  She frowned at her father’s cruel, caustic words. “If you think Mr. Winter seeks my dowry, you are wrong. He has more than enough of his own funds.”

  Still, whilst she did not believe him to have married her for financial benefit, she remained uncertain of why he had. A man such as he had no need to wed. As he had told her himself, he was not the sort of man who sought societal acceptance or entrée to balls. Rather, he was a law unto his own.

  And yet, he had not answered her whenever she had asked him why he had wanted to marry her.

  “It is not your dowry he is after, you foolish chit,” her father snapped, his voice echoing in the eerie calm of the chamber with the force of a slap. “You did not truly think he would want to marry you, did you? Evie is a diamond of the first water, with a legion of gentlemen begging to court her. You have no suitors to speak of.”

  She flinched. That was not entirely true. She’d had suitors…not many, it was true. She had grown accustomed to living in her beautiful twin’s shadow, to allowing Evie to speak for her.

  “Take care how you speak to my wife, Linross,” Dom growled. “I protect what is mine.”

  “She is not yours, you spurious cur!” Father’s face went a mottled shade of red. “You have done this to spite me. To force my hand, have you not? I will have this marriage annulled, and you can have what you want. I will sell you the land for your waterworks.”

  Everything inside Adele seemed to freeze. And then, like autumn flowers who had suffered the first fatal kiss of frost, shriveled.

  She turned to her husband, feeling numb. “You and my father are acquainted?”

  Dom inclined his head. “We are. I have been attempting to buy a parcel of land from Linross for the last year. He has thwarted me at every turn.”

  “And now, when he could not get what he wanted, he has involved you in his plans.” Her father sneered at Dom. “Leave my daughter out of this, you pathetic weasel. I will sell you the land, and then I hope to never see you again.”

  Her mind could scarcely seem to comprehend the scene unfolding before her. Dom had never told her he knew her father, nor that he had been attempting to purchase land from him. What could all this mean?

  She searched her husband’s grim countenance. “Is what my father says true? You wish to buy land from him?”

  “It is true that I want to buy the land for a waterworks in the East End. It is also true that he refused to sell me the parcel out of spite. He does not deem me suitable enough to acquire the land, even by legal means.”

  His acknowledgment only made the cold inside her blossom, overtaking her. “So you decided to marry me so you could force my f
ather’s hand and have your waterworks?”

  He reached for her, the harsh lines in his expression softening. “Adele, all is not as it seems. Trust me.”

  Trust him?

  She stared at his big, outstretched hand, wondering if she dared.

  His jaw hardened. “Adele, please. Give me a chance to explain.”

  “Whatever has happened, we will see the marriage annulled. If he has forced you or importuned you in any fashion, I will bring the law down upon him,” her father interrupted.

  “Trust me, Adele,” Dom entreated, repeating those three words.

  “You cannot trust him,” Father snapped. “He is a liar and a thief and a murderer. You have no notion of the trouble you have just caused for yourself. For us all. I knew allowing you to attend that house party without your mother’s careful guidance was a mistake. And then, for your sister to abandon you there with those wretched people. Those cursed Winters.”

  He said the surname as if it were an epithet.

  “You cannot annul the marriage,” Dom said then, his tone firm and angry. “Lady Adele is carrying my child.”

  Her father paled. “You cannot be certain of such a state already. I will have her examined by my physician.”

  “You will do no such thing,” roared Dom, his tone lethal as he stalked toward her father. “She is my wife.”

  “Dom, please.” Adele went after him, seizing his arm, staying him when he would have approached her father.

  She had no wish for her father and her husband to come to fisticuffs or worse. Dom Winter was a strong, virile man. Her father could not possibly defend himself.

  He looked at her, fury evident in every line of his handsome countenance. “I will not allow him to have you defiled by some physician. You are my wife. There will be no annulment. You have a choice to make, Adele. Will it be me, or will it be your father?”

  Adele searched his stare, hearing anew the anguish in his voice when he had spoken yesterday. If anything should happen to you or the babe…

  He cared for her, for their child. She knew he did. And whatever his reason for keeping this a secret from her, there was no denying the way she felt for him.

  Dom’s gaze remained fierce upon her, searing. He awaited her answer.

  “She will choose what is right and proper, of course,” her father intervened. “Lady Adele is the daughter of a duke. Although this regrettable marriage of yours will mean she is soiled goods, I can find someone to wed her. A baron or a country squire. Anyone would be better than a mongrel like you. Come now, Adele. Step away from Winter.”

  “No,” she managed.

  Because she could not choose anyone else over him. He was her husband, the father of her child.

  The man she loved.

  “No?” her father spat, as if he could not believe his ears.

  “No,” she repeated firmly. The wallflower had found her voice. She was making her decision. She entwined her arm through Dominic’s. “I am married to Mr. Winter, and you must accept it.”

  Her husband’s hand closed over hers. “I will see that everything is sent to you concerning the property.”

  “There will be no sale of the property without an annulment.” Her father’s voice was frigid.

  “If there is no sale without an annulment, I will be forced to call in all Lord Sundenbury’s debts.”

  Adele stiffened at the mention of her brother.

  Her father did as well. “You lowborn bastard. I will see you ruined if you try anything so despicable.”

  Her husband inclined his head. “I think you will be selling me the land, Linross. You have two days.”

  He sketched an ironic bow, and Adele forced herself to curtsy. She was still feeling numb as he propelled her from the room, leaving her father stewing behind them.

  They were scarcely settled in the carriage when his wife spoke.

  “You told me that if I married you, you would forgive my brother his debts,” she accused.

  Her expression was pinched, but he did not think he espied hatred there as Devil had been so certain he would. Instead, it was something worse. She appeared…wounded.

  He hated her pain. Hated being the cause of it. This was what happened each day, was it not? Darkness surpassed the light, and the sun was extinguished. Still, it did not feel right. Hurting Adele felt as if he had swallowed a rock, and it was lodged uncomfortably in his stomach.

  “I have returned some of your brother’s debts,” he allowed. “But not all.”

  “Then you lied to me.”

  Her voice was like a lash. Shame accompanied it, stinging, burning.

  “I did not lie about the debts,” he countered, for it was truth. “All his debts, up until the time we wed, have been returned to him. Unfortunately, Sundenbury has not ceased tempting fortune. His debts continue to mount.”

  “And you have been buying them all.”

  Once again, his wife was observant. Intelligent.

  He nodded. “Indirectly, yes.”

  “To strongarm my father into selling you the land you require,” she finished for him.

  “My initial plan was to use you both,” he admitted, hating himself for the way it sounded.

  Then wondering why. Dominic Winter showed no mercy. He possessed no compunction. He did what he had to do, and he never made apologies for it. It was what had kept him alive and made him one of the most powerful men in the East End.

  “That is why you married me,” she guessed. “You intended to trade me for the land.”

  He wished for a trap door to spring open in the floor of his carriage so he could fall into it. “Yes. Eventually.”

  Her hand crept to her abdomen in a protective gesture. “You changed your mind when you discovered I am carrying your child, however.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I changed my mind as soon as I saw you again in Oxfordshire. I had been looking for you everywhere, searching all London. I told myself the entire journey that I would hold true to my plan. That it was a boon the gorgeous angel I had not been capable of forgetting all these months was also the daughter to the man who would not sell me the land I needed.”

  “You ought to have told me then, when you arrived in Oxfordshire.”

  “A gentleman would have,” he acknowledged. “But as we have already established, I am no gentleman. And if I had told you the truth, you never would have married me.”

  “I do not know what I would have done, but you stole the choice from me, Dom,” she said, her tone enough to slay him.

  “I am sorry.”

  How those three words emerged from his own lips was a mystery. Dom did not make apologies.

  Adele’s lips parted, revealing her surprise as well. “You are sorry.”

  “I am sorry for…manipulating you,” he elaborated with painstaking precision. “I was wrong. I am a man who is accustomed to taking what he wants and not giving a damn about the consequences. But that does not make what I did right.”

  She nodded, her lips compressing to a fine, grim line once more. “Go on.”

  She wanted to know everything, his curious wife. Of course she did. Fair enough.

  He passed a hand over his jaw, finding the place to begin. “Jasper Sutton owns Sutton Waterworks, which provides water to a large portion of the area surrounding The Devil’s Spawn. The bastard has a monopoly, but his rates are high and the quality of water he provides is poor. I am aiming to create a rival waterworks that will have cleaner water and fairer prices. The water at The Devil’s Spawn will no longer come from a suspect source. However, the land I need, where I must build reservoirs surrounding the River Lea, is owned by the Duke of Linross, a man who has refused to sell for the last year.”

  Her brows drew together. “Were you truly responsible for my brother’s beating? Was that a lie as well?”

  “That was Sutton, just as I told you. Your brother was in deep at Sutton’s tables, and Suttons are notoriously merciless. They would as soon cut a nib as one of their own
. After you came to me and disappeared, I began buying up your brother’s vowels. At first, it was to find you. Then, when I discovered who you truly were, my plan became twofold.”

  “Will you truly ruin my brother if my father will not sell you the land?” she wanted to know next.

  He sighed. The Dominic Winter he had been before would have done so, without a modicum of guilt. The man he had become, however, was not so certain.

  “I want the land,” he said instead of answering her query. “I need that land.”

  “How will having the land solve your quarrels with Sutton? Will it keep him from attempting to burn down your gaming hell again?”

  “No,” he admitted. If anything, starting a rival waterworks would only heighten the enmity between himself and Jasper Sutton.

  So, too, the danger.

  “Please do not do this, Dom.”

  Her soft plea did strange things to him.

  “Duchess,” he began.

  “I love you,” she blurted.

  And the heart Dom had sworn he no longer possessed swelled inside his chest, until it felt too big for his stupid body.

  Floating hell.

  He had misheard her. He would have suspected the aftereffects of poison, rendering him delusional, but Devereaux Winter was nowhere in sight.

  “I love you,” she repeated, leaving no doubts as to what she had just said. “I want a true marriage with you, and I want my family to accept you. Given time, I believe they will. But there cannot be hatred and distance between us. This cannot be the way we begin things.”

  She was asking him to give up his plans for the waterworks.

  Impossible.

  Or was it?

  The beautiful, elegant lady staring at him expectantly from across the conveyance loved him. More honey and lightness filled him, chasing his darkness. Replacing it.

  And he found himself offering a concession for the first time in his bloody life. “For you, I will try to find another way, angel.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You are a fucking Bedlamite.”