He stepped closer, his fingers raking through his hair. He hated to admit it, but his sister had a point. “You’re right on that account. Esme will escort you to London at the first opportunity to see you properly wed.”
Millie paled while Chloe let out a squeak and held Millie tighter.
“So I’m to marry so that I might be out of your hair. Consider me informed. You may leave now.” Her voice shook.
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he contemplated what to say next. Millie was proving difficult, and he’d expected her to be the easiest of his siblings to convince.
What was the harm in explaining their father’s final scheme? She could tell Dez who might refuse participation but then again, he was unlikely to unite the family without telling them about the will. He grimaced in frustration attempting to decide which method was more likely to succeed as his shoulders slumped.
Millie was right, he was acting like his father. Manipulating them in to acting as he wished rather than just being honest. “That’s not why I came. Father has left a will, but the contents will only be shared if we’re all in attendance.”
Millie gasped, covering her mouth with her hands and Chloe turned to his sister, embracing Millie who promptly dropped her head to the other woman’s shoulder. He shifted, feeling awkward, on the other side of the room. He took a few steps toward them, feeling a pull to be part of their circle.
Millie raised her head. “Why didn’t you explain that in the letter?”
That made his feet halt.
But it was Chloe who answered. “Because Dez is just as likely to thumb his nose at the reunion as he is to attend.”
Jealousy, unwanted and unexpected, pricked at Ben. She’d used his brother’s given name. Those perfect lips had spoken with intimate knowledge, using the pet name only people close to Destrian would use, but she also understood Dez perfectly. Were they involved?
His teeth ground together. He’d known this woman all of five minutes, fired her in the first, unwittingly of course. Why would he care if she were with his brother? Under his brother…melding those soft curves to…his fists clenched. “Exactly right.”
Millie cocked her head to the side. “You remember him after all these years?”
“I do,” he answered again, moving closer. “And I remember you too. Which is why I know you hate this school.”
Surprise lit his sister’s eyes. She didn’t think he remembered who she was.
He grabbed her trunk. “I’ve signed you out indefinitely. We’ll stay at Cliffside while we wait for Destrian to return.”
“Cliffside?” Millie asked. “And Chloe. What about her?”
He looked at the honey haired vixen who returned his stare with wary eyes. He could send her off, terminate her employment and have one less female mucking up his party of one. But as he looked into those soft blue eyes, he couldn’t quite say the words that would send her off into the world alone. So instead, he sneered. “By all means, Miss Fairly. Join us.”
Chapter Three
Chloe stood in the music room of Cliffside, watching the rain pelt the sea. It was early spring, but the weather had yet to give over to sunny skies. Instead, a near constant rain fell. Which did little to diminish the beauty of this place.
The home couldn’t have been more perfect. Large, yet intimate. Warm and inviting, the natural world called to the occupants, creating a backdrop of stunning beauty even as the inside was decorated in a warm and cozy palette of yellows and creams with pops of color everywhere.
She’d only just arrived, but Chloe had never felt more at home anywhere in her life. Which made her frown. This was not her home. It would never be her home.
The duke wanted Millie to marry soon. Which meant Chloe would likely need a new position.
She’d be lucky to get a position with a widow or a wife with all sons. She’d hoped to stay with Millie, of course. Millie was more than just a job to Chloe but between the Duke of Whitehaven and Millie’s future prospects, she’d be lucky to stay with her friend another year.
Chloe sighed. She hated the uncertainty of her life. If only she’d married before her father’s death, everything would be different. But she’d only been eighteen and he’d put off her launch because of his ailing health.
She trailed her fingers along the pianoforte set off to one side of the room. It was set perfectly so the player might both see the company within the room and enjoy the view.
She loved to play, and she struck a few keys sending notes echoing through the room. Being a companion still afforded her the time for such pursuits, but she hesitated to sit and play now. They’d only arrived this afternoon and she’d yet to discern the rules of this new arrangement.
Millie had gone to lie down, the morning having taxed her, but Chloe hadn’t wished to join her. A restlessness had settled in her stomach, and butterflies fluttered inside her every time she thought of her new employer, the Duke of Whitehaven.
As if thinking his name conjured him, the man appeared in the doorway.
Her breath bottled in her lungs as she stared at him, her lips parting for a moment before she snapped them closed again. Why did he have that effect on her? Did he just make her nervous or was there something else brewing under the surface?
“Making yourself at home?” he said as he entered the room, crossing over to where she stood by the pianoforte. There was something that always laced his voice. A gruffness. It made her think he disapproved. Was the voice just for her or did he use it on everyone?
She dipped into a curtsy. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I’ll leave you to the room.”
“No.” He gave his head a stiff shake and she paused at the sharp rebuff in his voice.
“No?” she asked, frowning. “You don’t want me to leave?”
“Not particularly. Why do you think I would?”
She shook her head. “I am your sister’s unwanted companion. You’ve made that clear.”
“How did I do that?” He stopped just a few feet away and Chloe could swear that she could feel his heat. “I didn’t say you weren’t welcome here.”
She looked to the ground so that she didn’t have to stare at him. His face, the breadth of his shoulders, were distracting. “Your tone implies it. And then there were the words you spoke.”
“Ahh,” he answered. “My tone. And the fact I said you were dismissed.”
Her head snapped up then. “Precisely.”
He took a step closer. “Letting you go was not my original intent. Though my point stands. She now has a widowed stepmother who could chaperone her. And quite honestly, a good businessman does not allow redundancy.”
Chloe licked her lips, her hands pressing to her stomach. Redundant? Was that what she was? How could she prove that she was useful? “I would very much like to stay with Millie for as long as I can. She hasn’t said, but I think the changes have been disconcerting.”
“You’re looking out for her then, not yourself?” he replied, his lip curling.
Her lips pressed together as she clenched her hands into fists. “And you wonder why people assume the worst of you?”
His eyes widened and to her surprise a grin graced his lips. “You’re feisty. I like that.”
Her mouth opened to speak and then closed again. Honestly, he’d caught her by surprise, saying he liked anything about her at all. “Thank you.”
“Do you play?” He gestured down at the pianoforte.
“Of course,” she answered, once again gliding her fingers lightly over the keys. “It was supposed to be my great accomplishment. The asset that would help me secure the best husband.” She clamped her mouth shut, cursing herself for saying that. One compliment and she was revealing her inner thoughts to this man? Her past?
“Millie introduced you as the Honorable Chloe Fairly.” He shifted closer.
It might have been imperceptible, but she could feel him and with the movement, she caught his scent. Sea and fresh breeze and a hint of something deeply masculine. �
�My father was a baron. Before.”
“Before?”
She raised a shoulder, looking down at the keys. “Before the title went to some cousin.”
He didn’t say anything at first. “I see.”
He likely did. It was a decidedly boring tale. Common in its tragedy. “I was very lucky your father hired me.”
“There are two words you almost never hear in the same sentence. Lucky and my father.”
Her gaze met the dark depths of his irises. Why did looking at him make her heart race? “The interview was…difficult.”
“But you passed muster.”
She nodded. “He’d remarried and my impression was that Millie wasn’t thriving at the school where she’d been sent.” This was her chance. “I’ve always been vivacious. I make Millie’s social calls easier, and I would help her secure a husband. I am not…redundant.”
“You’re her voice.” He said staring at her with keen eyes. “You smooth the White edges.” He leaned on the instrument, looking no smaller than he did when standing.
“I suppose so.” She swallowed down a lump. “And I can assure you, I will prove an asset in the search for a husband for Millie.”
He cocked an eyebrow and relaxed like this, looking playful, the man was beyond handsome. She looked away, heat filling her cheeks.
“Millie grew up with four brothers. She never had a problem standing up to any of us. I don’t know where her shyness comes from or when it began.”
That made Chloe wince. The headmistress at the school had tried to force Millie to speak more. But the harder the woman had pushed, the quieter Millie had become. “She’s a private person.”
Whitehaven’s eyes widened at that. “That, I can understand.”
Did he? Was he private too? She snuck a peek at him trying to discern how he felt.
“But she’ll have to marry soon. I’d like to see this business settled.”
Chloe spread her hands out on her stomach feeling the press of time as well. “You don’t need to worry. I can do much of the work and if your stepmother escorts us to London, we’ll see this business done. It will require little work from you.”
He chuckled then, rich and low and deep and her hand came up to rest at the base of her throat the sound was so arresting. “No wonder my father hired you. You could talk the devil into buying more fire.”
Her cheeks grew even hotter at that. Was it a compliment? She wasn’t certain. “I want the best for Millie. She deserves a good husband.”
“And you? What do you deserve?” The question made her swallow. She felt her pulse fluttering in her throat. What did she deserve? She didn’t even know anymore.
She shook her head and a lock of hair fell over her shoulder. “I don’t know.”
He reached out then and pinched the section of hair between his thumb and his forefinger. Her breath caught as he gently lifted the lock, just above her breast and slid the hair over her shoulder. “You must think you deserve something?”
Her mouth had gone completely dry as her heart pounded in her chest. She’d been far too aware of his touch, the slide of his fingers. “Security.”
He trailed his thumb along the fabric of her sleeve before he dropped his hand. “That’s it?”
She took a fortifying breath. “We can’t all be dukes.”
He was silent for a long time and when she finally glanced at him again, his look was unreadable. “I suppose we can’t.”
What did that mean? She wasn’t certain but as her gaze slid away once again, he cleared his throat. “Miss Fairly. Would you play something for me?”
The butterflies began beating their wings in her stomach. Play something? It seemed wrong. She played for herself now. Any hope of playing for a man had left her heart years ago. But she found herself nodding, nonetheless.
He was her employer. Her future and Millie’s depended on him. And she had some odd need to please him. With a nod, she sat down on the bench and perched her fingers over the keys.
Listening to Chloe play was like nothing Ben had ever experienced before. The music cut through him, vibrating inside him, seeming to touch his very soul. He gripped the edge of the pianoforte as he listened.
It was the closest thing he’d ever had to a religious experience, not that his father hadn’t tried to force him into one.
The notes soared high and burned low, filled with emotion as her body swayed to her playing.
He could listen to her play forever.
Beyond Chloe, the rain beat down on the ocean, creating a dramatic backdrop that only heightened the mood. He had the most intense urge to touch her hair again.
He shouldn’t have done it the first time. She was not his to caress in such a way but when the lock had fallen, he’d been overwhelmed by curiosity. Would her hair feel soft or coarse?
Despite its thick mass, the strands had slipped through his fingers like silk. Lovely. He’d like to bury his hands in the mass of it, undo the pins and let it tumble around her, over him.
Ben tipped back, moving away from her. He didn’t appreciate where his thoughts were taking him. He was not a man who cared about a woman’s hair or her musical stylings. He enjoyed lush breasts and a soft ass.
Both of which he imagined she had.
His body clenched and he let out a faint groan.
He tried to tell himself that daydreams about tumbling hair were stupidly romantic and he didn’t go in for such tripe. He kept himself apart from everyone and everything.
That was how he worked.
It was better that way.
But Miss Fairly, Chloe, had a certain warmth about her in addition to her beauty that he struggled to ignore.
He’d listened to her requests. On the surface, he could dismiss them. She wanted to help Millie for her own gain as much as his sister’s. The longer she was employed, the better.
But there had been something in her eyes, a worry, whenever she spoke of Millie’s shyness that negated his more cynical view. She cared about Millie.
Or she was a damned good actress which was a distinct possibility and one he’d choose to believe for now. He needed a reason to keep her at arm’s length and that seemed as good a one as any.
With that, he pushed off the pianoforte, crossing his arms over his chest.
The song finally came to an end and Chloe’s fingers slipped from the keys; her head bowed as her hands clasped.
“Well done,” he said, allowing as little emotion in his voice as possible. Which was damned difficult considering the riot in his mind and his body.
“Thank you,” she said slowly standing. “And thank you for allowing me to play. I love to practice and at the school…” she didn’t finish, her lips pressing together as she looked out over the sea. “Your home is beautiful, Your Grace.”
His gut clenched. “It’s not mine. At least not that I know of.”
She looked at him then, her eyes holding a question. “Not yours?”
He let out a slow breath, raking a hand through his hair. “It was part of my mother’s dowry and therefore not part of the entail.” He looked out at the water. “Funny how life is like that. I’d give all the other houses for this one. Not even dukes get everything they wish.”
She moved closer, coming around the large instrument. “I’m sorry for you. I can see why you like this place so much. I’ve never been anywhere that felt this…” her words trailed off.
“This?” he asked, looking down at her as her chin notched up toward him. It wasn’t lost on him that this woman’s entire life had been taken from her and yet she spoke with real sympathy, that he couldn’t have another home. So much for his plan to consider her selfish.
“I don’t know, exactly. This place feels like a home. Warmth is infused within its walls.”
He stared at her. That was exactly how he’d always felt. “My mother decorated the place, her good nature shining through.”
“How long ago did your mother pass? Millie never talks about her.”
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br /> “I’m not sure she remembers her. Millie was barely two.” He’d been far older, and he remembered the changes that came with his mother death. His father had always been a hard man, but his mother had softened him. He’d grown brittle and bitter after her death.
She’d died in childbirth, both her and the baby passing. They’d buried them together and it had been Ben who’d held a crying Millie in his arms as he’d said goodbye to his mother. He’d been the oldest after all and he loved his baby sister. She’d been beautiful even then, too.
But Ben also had borne the brunt of his father’s vitriol. Constant lessons to make him strong enough to be the next duke had kept him apart from his siblings. And then, even when he had a rare opportunity to bond with them, his father would see to it that he failed. His mouth twisted.
“How old were you?”
“Twelve,” he said, his chest tightening. Why was he sharing any of this? He never talked of the past. “But it’s too long ago to care about now.”
She shook her head. “May I ask you one more question about Millie?”
He gave a quick nod.
“Was she always so shy?”
He shrugged. The Millie he’d remembered had been full of vivaciousness. But then again, she’d only been with family. “You’re asking the wrong White. I was eighteen when I left, Millie was only eight.”
Chloe frowned then. “I’ve tried asking Dez, but he never really answers. “
Dez. His brother’s name on her lips caused another jealous ripple to reverberate through him. “He doesn’t?”
She shook her head. “His face gets stony, and he tells me he doesn’t know.”
“And this surprises you because you and Dez are normally close?” He couldn’t quite keep his lip from curling, the words taking in a sharp edge.
She stopped, giving him a sideways glance. “No. He is close to Millie. I only spend time with him by extension.”
He snorted. “That’s your story. You barely know my brother Dez.” He drew out the name, making it an accusation. Was he out of line? Perhaps. But then again, Chloe would be his employee. He should know if anything tawdry was happening.
Her Wicked White Page 3
