Her Wicked White

by Tammy Andresen

  By way of answer, he bent down and placed one arm behind her back, the other under her knees.

  Millie fell back as he lifted Chloe in his arms. Her hands automatically wrapped about his neck.

  “You’re welcome.” But he didn’t look at her, instead focusing on Millie. “Will you come with us so that I might bring Chloe to her room?”

  She likely should have been scandalized. He used her given name, planned to carry her to her bedroom, but she’d never been so relieved in her life. She sunk into his arms, her cheek coming to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closing. After what just happened, she’d like nothing more than to stay in his strong arms.

  She didn’t say a word as he started for the steps. He stopped, turning to Millie. “Perhaps you could get some cognac for Chloe? Her throat could use a soothing liquid.”

  “Of course,” Millie nodded. Then she leaned closer. “You’ll take care of her?”

  Ben tightened his grip the smallest bit. “Yes, Millie. I’ll care for her for the two minutes it takes for you to fetch the bottle.”

  Millie tsked but as she turned, she called over her shoulder. “You’d better or I’m going to drag you down the stairs.”

  Even Chloe smiled at that, though she pressed the grin into his jacket.

  “Chloe,” he said, his voice smoother than she’d ever heard it. It brushed like velvet over her skin. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  She nodded into his shoulder, not wishing to speak. She didn’t know what she’d say if she did. Would she confess that she hated being unwed at two and twenty? That she’d like nothing more than to hide in his large shadow?

  Chloe had already thanked him, and she didn’t want to undo her gratitude by crying or begging or…what was wrong with her?

  She didn’t even like Ben. And when had she begun calling him Ben? Her arms tightened around his neck. These were questions for later. At this moment, she’d try to soak every bit of his strength she could into her own body.

  He didn’t say anything else as he carried up the stairs. They reached the top and her head tipped back. Had he exerted himself at all? His breath hadn’t even hitched as he supported her weight up the flight of steps.

  He looked down at her, their faces far closer together than Chloe was prepared for. She sucked in a tiny breath as she stared into the dark depths of his eyes. “I’m going to ask you again. Are you hurt?”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as she attempted to concentrate on her own person. “I…I don’t think so. I just…” she couldn’t start. An avalanche of words she likely shouldn’t say crowded her mouth. “I’m normally so careful.”

  “Careful?” he asked as he started moving again.

  “To avoid men like that,” she whispered, her voice catching.

  He dropped his cheek to the top of her head. “You’re beautiful and alone. You must have to be.”

  She let her head sink back into the crook of his neck. “Precisely.”

  “Hmmmm,” was all he said as he made it to her room and opened the door, carrying her across the threshold. She wasn’t certain what she’d expected but he walked to the bed and promptly sat down, still holding her in his arms.

  She should protest.

  But she’d never been more comfortable.

  Wild thoughts swirled in Ben’s mind.

  He wanted to keep her here, pressed against him.

  Which was ridiculous.

  Millie’s words drifted back to him. About socializing, marrying. He grimaced, his cheek still resting on the soft crown of her hair. He would have to wed, but not a woman like Chloe.

  He’d make a match exactly like his father and Esme. It would be an arrangement of mutual benefit. That was it.

  Hadn’t his father taught him that feelings equaled weakness? It was as simple and brutal as that. And the incident with Tyron had proven his father correct.

  He started to shift her weight off his lap and onto the bed, only she burrowed deeper into him.

  Why did that feel so bloody good? Her softness settled against him fitting his body so perfectly. But it was more than that. She needed him and he liked that in ways he’d never imagined.

  Her hair had come half out of its pins and he started brushing the silky locks away from her face. “What is your plan after Millie’s married?”

  Her eyes had closed, and he watched as her features tightened. “I…” her tongue came out to wet her lips and he followed its path, his stomach dropping. “Her husband might very well allow me to continue in my position as her companion.”

  He growled, low and deep. “No man is going to have you in his house and not take liberties at some point.”

  “That’s rather cynical. There are plenty of good men who—”

  He’d not disagree but hadn’t tonight underscored what a temptation this woman actually was. “A widow, perhaps.”

  She nodded. “Perhaps.”

  He brushed another stray hair, this one from her cheek, her skin achingly smooth under his rougher hands.

  She looked up at him, her crystal blue eyes fringed with thick dark lashes. “I don’t want to think about the future right now.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  Her cheeks flooded with a creamy pink color that reminded him of sunrise. “Because,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the far wall, “this may be the only time in my entire life a man ever holds me like this.”

  Something shifted deep inside him. A possessiveness that robbed him of air, of thought. He should be the only one. She belonged to him and no one else. He opened his mouth to say…what?

  But he was spared from answering when Millie came in with the brandy, three glasses in hand. “How is she?” Millie asked as she set the glasses on the dressing table and started to pour.

  He noted that his sister hadn’t blinked an eye that Chloe was still settled in his arms, resting in his lap. “She’ll recover. Yes?” He looked down at her as she gave her head a small nod of affirmation.

  “Yes,” Chloe said. “I’ll recover.”

  “What happened?” Millie asked carrying two glasses to them and extended one of the glasses toward him.

  He shook his head. “You have that one, Millie. I’ll get mine in a minute.” The truth was, he’d hold Chloe for as long as she’d allow it. She’d said this might be her one chance to be held like this and he keenly felt the same. He might never get to hold her like this again.

  Which was odd.

  He’d had his pick of women, and he’d never wanted to hold them. But he’d puzzle all that out later. Right now, he just intended to feel and as she shifted to take the drink from Chloe’s hand, a breast pressing into his chest, he knew he’d made the right choice.

  “Drink,” he murmured close to her ear. “It will soothe your throat and help you sleep tonight.”

  She took a sip, wrinkling her nose which only made him chuckle, but she took another. “You drink this regularly?”

  Millie also took another swallow. “I like it.”

  He laughed again. Looking between the two women, a thought that had been nagging at him came back. He’d missed this sort of interaction. Not meaningless social tripe but real relationships with family and close friends.

  Being here with Chloe and his sister, eased some ache deep inside.

  Did it make him weaker?

  Less able to control a dukedom?

  Tyron had clearly thought that Ben lacked the strength of his father. Was it true? Would caring lead to weakness?

  Was his father’s strength tied in his ability to care for no one? As a father, the fourth Duke of Whitehaven had been terrible, but as a leader of men…he’d built a fortune, a stronghold of power, and a cornerstone of the country.

  Perhaps a man could not have both.

  He lifted off the bed, slowly settling Chloe onto the mattress, her back against the pillows.

  Crossing the room, he grabbed his glass of brandy. He was going to need a few more of these tonight if he wished to sleep at all.
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  “You’re leaving?” Chloe asked, her voice catching.

  “You should try and sleep,” he said without glancing back at her. “Finish your drink.” He could not look at her, on the bed, her vulnerable eyes asking him to return. Was he imagining that last part?

  He didn’t dare turn around and find out. Taking a swig of brandy, he left the room.

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe swirled the liquid in her glass as the door closed behind Ben. Her fingers held tight as she resisted the urge to call him back.

  Millie slid next to her. “My goodness. Tonight.”

  That about summed it up. What an evening it had been. “Should we talk about it?”

  “Talk about what? The chaos my eldest brother has inserted in our lives?”

  That wasn’t exactly what Chloe had in mind. Did Millie think all this Ben’s fault? “To be fair, he did actual save me from far worse.”

  Millie gave a stiff nod. “I know you’re right. And he attempted to apologize to me, which I also appreciate, but trouble has a way of following all my brothers. Except for Dez, of course.” Then Millie took another swallow. “Well, even him. But he does a better job of…” Millie looked up at the canopy on the bed.

  “Of keeping his trouble away from you?”

  Millie smiled. “Exactly.”

  She rested her head on Millie’s shoulder. A sigh escaping her lips. “I wish I had an older brother.”

  Millie waved at her glass. “They boss you around all the time. Like Ben telling you to drink something you don’t like.”

  Chloe lifted her head again. “You don’t miss them then? Your other brothers?”

  Millie looked down at the amber liquid swirling in her glass. “I don’t know why I should. We never worked together. All of us. There was constant strife.” Then her frown deepened. “Though sometimes I wonder how much of that was my father’s influence.”

  Chloe took another sip. She didn’t say it to Millie, but Ben had been right. The liquid was both soothing her throat and helping her to relax. Perhaps it also loosened her tongue. “Your father did have a penchant for causing strife.”

  Millie rubbed her forehead. “I was so young when my brothers lived at home, it’s difficult for me to know. First, they were off at school, and then they were gone, finding their own way in the world.”

  Chloe knew how difficult that must have been for all of them, but she also understood that it made them stronger men, too. And while most of society didn’t agree with her perspective, thought the good sons stayed at home, under their father’s thumb until they took over the titles, she wondered if society had it exactly wrong. She knew Dez and now Ben, both strong competent men. “I know I’ve only known Ben for a day, but don’t you think below his fierce façade is a good man?”

  Millie gave her a long look, as though studying Chloe. “You looked very comfortable in his arms.”

  Heat filled her cheeks. “I did not.”

  “Yes, you did.” Millie touched her shoulder. “I don’t blame you. I know you get a lot of attention from men, not all of it wanted.”

  She looked down into her glass. “You know that I love you like a sister?”

  “I do,” Millie answered. “Which is why you can tell me how you really feel.”

  Chloe shrugged. “Sometimes I wish I could have that life I always assumed would be mine. A husband, a family. I get so tired…” her brow furrowed. Had she really just said that? She took another swallow of brandy.

  Millie patted her arm. “You deserve that life. And I meant what I said earlier. We’re going to find it for you.”

  Chloe placed her hand over Millie’s. “First, we’re going to get you settled. Tell me. What do you want when Dez arrives? For him to take us away from here? Do you wish to go to London and find a husband?” She drew in a breath.

  Millie shook her head. “I’m not sure. Perhaps that is why I haven’t told Ben when Dez will come home.” Millie drained her glass. “My father preached obedience. And while I haven’t exactly obeyed Ben, I haven’t defied him either.”

  Chloe understood. To strike out on one’s own was a scary proposition.

  “My father would be furious with me for not telling Ben where Dez is or when he’ll return. We’re supposed to support the dukedom at all costs.” Millie rose, then crossed the room to pour another glass of brandy. “More than anything, I think, I want to snub my nose at those rules. The ones that say I have to subvert my own wants and needs for the dukedom. Sacrifice Dez and everyone else on the altar of the title.”

  Chloe’s brow furrowed. She’d seen firsthand how the former duke’s tests and lessons had been cruel. She could only imagine how he’d taught Millie these lessons. No wonder she tried to resist Ben.

  Chloe couldn’t say whether Millie was on the right path, but she’d walk with her friend. If she left, Chloe would go with her, if she stayed here, Chloe would too. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you.” But the moment the words left her mouth, she had a twinge of regret. The idea of leaving this place, that felt like home, and the man who’d become a shelter in the storm of life made her sad and heavy. She sunk deeper into her pillows with a sigh.

  “Thank you,” Millie said. “I know you’re right. I need to decide what I want. There are times when I want to go back to the way things were. When I loved Ben, when he was the brother I depended on. And then there are other times…”

  Chloe nodded. “If only there was a clear path in life. So often we’re just muddling through.”

  Millie let out a long sigh. “I know. But one thing is clear. You are the best friend a woman could ask for and we’ll always care for each other.”

  Chloe pulled herself up. “I agree. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Which was the absolute truth.

  “We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Millie moved toward the door. “You need some rest and I need to compose some answers.”

  Chloe shook her head. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight.”

  “I don’t?” Millie stopped.

  “We’ve got a few days yet. Perhaps what you need is to get to know your brother again.” Chloe closed her eyes, the effects of the brandy making her eyelids heavy.

  “Perhaps,” Millie answered, her voice sounding further away. “Sleep well, sweet Chloe.”

  She wished she could say more. Tell Millie to ignore her father’s lessons, go with her heart. But her eyes refused to open again. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she’d help Millie pick the path they’d both tread.

  Ben sat at the desk in the study getting good and drunk. At least he attempted to do so. He was on his second whisky after his glass of brandy, but his mind would not stop replaying the events of the evening.

  Particularly the part where Chloe had been curled into him.

  He’d liked to have stayed in her bed, kept her pressed against him.

  His fantasies were sexual. There was no doubt. But something ran even deeper. A need to just hold her, protect her, make her feel… Hell. He didn’t know.

  A knock sounded at the door and for a moment he was sure it was Chloe. She’d come to be near him again.

  Thank him?

  Curl in his lap?

  He growled in frustration. The woman had burrowed under his skin.

  “Come in.”

  Millie opened the door, walking in with a full glass of brandy in hand. Her eyes had the fog that he wished his held. “How’s the brandy?”

  “Delightful,” she said raising the glass.

  He raised his in return. “What can I help you with?”

  She slid into a chair across from him, taking a sip. “We need to talk.”

  “About?”

  “Chloe,” she answered as she set her glass down on his desk.

  He frowned setting his down as well. “If you’ve come to implore me to continue her employment, I consent. There is no question that she is an asset.”

  “To the dukedom?” Millie didn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice t
hat hardened her words.

  “To you,” he answered. He cocked his head to the side. Perhaps he wasn’t the only White who resented the choices that had been made for the title rather than the people of this family.

  Millie’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry I said that and thank you.”

  “I’m not sorry,” he grabbed his glass then but didn’t bother to drink. “We all hate the title on some level.”

  “Why would you hate being duke?” she asked leaning forward. “You get all the power. Everyone bows to you. You taught Lord Tyron that lesson tonight.”

  He had. “Learning to be that cold. Becoming a hard man was not…” easy? That was an understatement. “I wasn’t even permitted to love my own family.”

  Millie stared at him, a touch of sadness flickering in her eyes. “I…” she swallowed. “I know where Dez is and when he’ll return.”

  His brows lifted. “Will you share?”

  “But I need something.”

  Of course. Who in this family just gave without thought to themselves? “What?”

  “Chloe,” Millie whispered. “She needs more than another position.”

  His chest constricted. Because Millie wasn’t being selfish at all, she was thinking of Chloe and what was more, she was right. “What did you have in mind?”

  “If Father didn’t provide for her—” Millie leaned forward. “Can we make it look as though he did? A small sum that would provide enough for a dowry that would allow her to wed? She tries to be strong, but I know she’d be happier with a husband.”

  The idea of her being married to some other man made his lip curl. He took another drink to hide his reaction. “You want me to help her marry?”

  Millie nodded. “She’s meant to be a wife. You see it. I know you do.”

  He saw it. With stark clarity. “I can talk to Mr. Veritas but he’s not exactly a man who bends. He’s rather particular about following the rules.”

  “Is that what drove the two of you apart?” Millie asked.