Chapter Seven
The next day, Millie stared at the paper, fiddling the edges with her fingers. She could present the evidence she’d found to her brothers. Ben would be home tomorrow or the next day.
But there would be questions.
Or she could wait, bide her time, and pick her perfect moment.
Her mouth twisted. What if they needed to know this now? She had her reasons for wanting to help but aside from that, she knew Dez, Ben, and Justice were in danger.
She tucked the paper in the drawer of her vanity and rose, crossing to the window that overlooked the garden. If she just pressed against the glass, she could see the gate.
Thoughts of Patrick made her sigh. He was down there, somewhere, at this very moment.
The glass was cool against her cheek as her fingers pressed against her lips.
His kiss had been as achingly gentle as his hands, and her insides turned to jelly all over again, thinking about the feel of his mouth against hers. She’d been tucked into the hard lines of him. Why did she feel safe and cherished there?
A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.
For the briefest moment, she wondered if it was Patrick. But that was ridiculous. He would never come knocking at her door in the middle of the day.
She opened the heavy panel to find Chloe standing on the other side. “Hello,” she said warmly.
“Hello,” Millie replied, leaning against the doorframe.
Chloe’s smile slipped a touch. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Apologies,” Millie murmured. “I’ve been distracted.”
“I’m aware,” Chloe answered. “You’ve been quiet for days.”
Millie winced. “I suppose I have.” Then she stepped back. “Would you like to come in?”
Chloe shook her head. “I wondered if you’d want to get out. We could go to one of the local shops, even walk if you’d prefer.”
Millie reached for Chloe’s hand. She’d like to stay here and continue considering all she’d learned but she appreciated Chloe’s thoughtfulness a great deal. “I would like that.” Perhaps some air would give her some fresh perspective.
With that in mind, she linked her arm with Chloe’s and headed down the stairs. They donned bonnets and gloves and set out.
The air was warm but not overly so, and Millie drew in a deep breath, glad she’d come. She gave a glance back and watched Patrick fall in step several feet behind them. That made her smile. Another bonus to coming out.
While half her thoughts were on her father, the other half surrounded Patrick and, seeing him, warmth flooded her cheeks.
She looked at Chloe. “How did you know you liked my brother?”
Chloe’s brows lifted. “Where is this question coming from?”
Millie shrugged, not ready to talk about Patrick. First there was too much to explain in terms of how they met. And then there would be questions about her feelings she wasn’t ready to answer. “I’ll enter society soon enough and then I’ll need to know these things.”
“I’d worry you met someone, but I don’t see how that could be possible.”
Millie nibbled her lip to keep from smiling. “Nearly so.”
“Is this about Mr. Jensen then? When you meet him, you want to measure your compatibility?”
It wasn’t about Jensen but it was about measuring her emotions. “Yes.”
Chloe gave her a long look before she answered. “I could barely think of anyone but Ben. I lost my ability to reason.”
Millie could understand all that. Chloe’s words rang with a familiarity that made butterflies beat in her belly.
“And then there was the way he made me feel.”
“How?” Millie asked.
Chloe gave her a shy smirk. “Well, there was the attraction but also…”
“What?” Millie asked as her steps slowed.
“I felt safe,” Chloe answered.
Safe. The word echoed in her head. Because Patrick made her feel all those things that Chloe had just described. And possibly more.
Did she have the sort of feeling for him that Chloe had for Ben?
The thought made her breath catch.
She didn’t want those feelings, did she?
She had a plan. A plan to stay alone and stay safe.
That thought stole her breath. She didn’t want to marry because…her head hung. She was afraid.
No, it wasn’t true. She didn’t wish to be her brothers’ pawn. And yes, she wanted to use her mind rather than just be a man’s decoration. But that could include a marriage of her choosing with a man who appreciated her. But what if she chose a man like her father?
Perhaps it was fear after all.
Her father’s cold abuse made her heart heavy. Nothing she’d ever done had been good enough. Any slight infraction had meant punishment. A spot on her skirt. A mishandling of her silverware. She could never risk being tied to a man like that again.
“Excuse me,” a man said a moment before she collided with a hard chest. Her hands came up to his shoulders, her eyes blinking as she gave a small yelp.
“I...” she rushed out, taking a step back. But no more words came out. She froze, her lips pressing together. She’d been about to speak with him, but something stopped her. There was a hardness behind his eyes, something she didn’t understand but she didn’t like either.
Chloe stepped forward, quickly covering for Millie’s sudden silence. “Please excuse us, sir.”
He gave her a friendly smile. He was of average height with light brown hair and brown eyes. “No harm done,” he replied, giving a short bow. “I too was lost in my own thoughts.”
She blinked. How had he known she was lost in thought? Or did he just mean that he had been so? Her gaze narrowed as she assessed him.
“Thank you,” Chloe added.
“Most welcome.” His smile broadened, still looking at Millie. “A man might even say it was a blessing to run into a woman a lovely as you.”
A blush stained her cheeks as her gaze dropped to the ground. Had she been mistaken in her first impression?
Chloe cleared her throat. “We’re pleased to have met you too, sir.”
He removed his hat. “Mr. Erwin Macklemeyer at your service.”
Chloe nodded. “I am…Lady Whitehaven and this is Lady Millicent.”
“A pleasure.” He bowed. But before he could rise, another body knocked into his.
This one she recognized instantly. Patrick. “Oye, governor. Sorry about that.”
Millie started in surprise at the rough London accent he’d changed his voice to mimic. He’d made mention of having experience with subterfuge. Did that mean he regularly hid his identity? How intriguing. But her body instantly responded to his presence, relaxing at his nearness.
Mr. Macklemeyer straightened with a frown. “No trouble.”
Patrick’s gaze met Millie’s. “You ladies fair all right?”
Millie gave a single nod. “Fine.”
Chloe gawked next to her, her eyes wide and her mouth open as she stared at Millie. Chloe had never heard Millie speak to a strange man. And she understood Chloe’s confusion, she felt it herself. It was odd that she’d been able to speak with Patrick from the first. Even when she had not known him at all.
What would Chloe think of that? What did it mean? And how much should she tell her friend?
* * *
Patrick gave the man who’d positioned himself next to Millie a once-over glare.
What was he playing at?
He’d watched the man’s approach; he’d not been lost in thought. He’d deliberately put himself in Millie’s path.
Perhaps he’d been smitten with her? She was uncommonly beautiful.
And the way the man looked at her. It was carefully masked; in fact the man had a thoroughly generic appearance from this clothing, various shade of brown, to his bland smile. But underneath that, something sinister simmered. He was certain of it.
Patrick
was a fighter.
He sensed aggression.
And it rolled off this man in waves.
“I didn’t catch your name, guv’nor.” Patrick stuck out his hand.
“I didn’t give it,” the man answered, his face hardening further. He did not shake, rather he glared.
“It’s Macklemeyer. Mr. Macklemeyer,” Millie murmured.
Patrick straightened. Mister? He’d be damned if this man was going to insert himself into Millie’s life. If she was going to marry a nobody, it might as well be himself…
Shit.
When had he’d developed so much feeling for Millie that he was actually considering marriage?
He wanted to insert himself between her and this man. Block her from his view. Even now, Macklemeyer’ gaze bounced all over Millie.
Hell, he’d like to punch that look of interest off the other man’s face.
“Cranston,” he said as though Macklemeyer had introduced himself. And he stuck his hand out again. “Fighter by trade. You’ll ‘ave to forgive my clumsiness. Blimey, but I’m only good in the ring.”
“Mr. Macklemeyer surely doesn’t mind,” the other woman answered. Patrick was relatively certain she was the new duchess. “He made the same gaff with us. Here we all stand, a bunch of clumsy strangers.”
Patrick’s brows lifted. The woman, whoever she was, was doing an exceptionally good job of smoothing the situation.
Macklemeyer reluctantly stuck out his hand and gave Patrick a quick shake. “Pleased to meet you.”
He’d love to tell Millie to turn and start home. But it was the onion problem again. The duchess didn’t know that her husband had hired him to watch over Millie and that Millie was in on the secret…or did she? How was he to know?
He gave both women a friendly bow. “Can I ‘elp you ladies get somewhere?”
Macklemeyer made the faintest growling noise next to Millie. Patrick ignored it, catching Millie’s eye from under her bonnet. He tried to say with his eyes that she should return home.
Her own gaze narrowed as she assessed him. Her lips parted and her eyes widened in understanding. “Your Grace,” she said. “I find I have a megrim beginning.”
Patrick’s shoulders slumped with relief.
“We should return at once,” Chloe said, her features growing concerned.
Patrick started to step forward. But before he could reach Millie, Macklemeyer stuck out his arm. “Allow me.”
Millie looked at him again, her mouth twisting before she slipped a gloved hand in the man’s arm. “Thank you.”
Patrick held out his arm to the other woman. “Allow me, Your Grace.”
“Mr. Cranston, you said you were a fighter. Do you know my brother-in-law, Lord Justice?”
“’Course,” he answered giving her a wink. They’d fallen in step behind Millie, and it took every ounce of his control not to pull the other man away. In his mind, he pictured giving him a good hard knock on the jaw.
Jealousy was not an emotion he was used to, and he didn’t welcome it now, but something in him revolted at this man touching Millie.
“Tell me, Lady Millie, have you been in London long?” Macklemeyer asked.
She looked away.
“Mr. Macklemeyer,” Chloe called from next to him. “Have we met before?”
He didn’t look back, or rather, he only looked back enough so that Patrick could see his profile. “I seriously doubt it,” the man answered. “I’ve only just arrived in the city.”
“Oh,” Chloe said. “Where are you from? Because I could swear I’ve seen you before. Is it Dover? We’ve only recently arrived from there ourselves.”
“Your Grace,” Patrick said as he sped up. “Perhaps you’d like to talk with Mr. Macklemeyer more personal like.”
“Marvelous idea.” The duchess let go of his arm and Millie stepped back in a seamless transition that had satisfaction rippling through him.
Macklemeyer’s face pulled taut as he held out his elbow to the duchess. “I’m a merchant, Your Grace. Trade’s my business so I’ve been in nearly every port in England.” Mr. Macklemeyer gave a long look back at Millie even as he answered.
“Have you been in Dover recently?”
“No,” the man answered. They approached the duke’s townhouse and Macklemeyer abruptly stopped. “If you’ll excuse me ladies, I’ve only just realized I am late for an appointment.” Then he turned back, giving Millie one final glance. “It was a pleasure, Lady Millicent.”
And then he disappeared down the street they’d just traversed.
“How odd,” the duchess said as she watched him go.
“Are you talking about Macklemeyer or me?” Millie asked, also following the man with her eyes.
Patrick pulled Millie a bit closer, glad the other man was gone.
“Both,” Chloe said. “Are you going to tell me who Mr. Cranston is?”
Patrick winced. He’d given away his identity, but the situation had warranted it, hadn’t it? Or was that his jealousy talking?
“He’s a friend of Justice’s,” Millie said by way of explanation. “We’re acquainted. Patrick, I’d like you to meet Ben’s wife, Chloe.”
“Pleasure,” Chloe said. But her brow was furrowed. “You’ve only just been reacquainted with Justice. How is it you know his friends already and I don’t?”
Patrick cleared his throat. Their onion had just lost a layer. “It’s a bit complicated.”
“That’s all right,” Chloe said, crossing her arms. “I’ve got time.”
“You won’t need much. Your husband hired him to keep watch over us while he’s gone. He’s been hiding in the shadows for days.”
Chloe gasped. “Ben?”
Millie shrugged, “Dez and Justice, too. They can all share the blame, I suppose.”
“They’ve been deceiving me all this time?” Chloe’s voice grew tight as one of her hands clenched.
Patrick grimaced. He’d given his position away. It was one of the pillars of this assignment. How much was that going to change things?
Would the entire situation collapse?
Chapter Eight
Millie sensed the tension in Patrick’s arm rippling under her fingers. Her hand still rested on the inside of his elbow and it turned to granite under her touch.
“I was supposed to be a secret, Your Grace,” he said, keeping his voice even. “But when that man ambushed you both—”
“Ambushed?” Millie asked, her voice catching. She sensed as much but to hear him say it out loud sent a shiver down her spine.
“He went straight for you,” Patrick answered.
Chloe and Millie exchanged glances. She had every reason to believe Patrick but why would that man have run into her on purpose?
She hated to involve Justice, he was liable to do a whole string of cursing, but perhaps he should be part of this conversation. Then again, he’d likely bluster too much to really listen. And she’d have to explain that she’d discovered Patrick’s presence.
If she knew Justice, he’d be furious that she’d thwarted his plans.
“Are you trying to decide if we speak to your brother?” Chloe asked.
“Precisely,” Millie answered. “You?”
Chloe gave a tight nod. “I wish Ben or Dez were here.”
“It can’t wait,” Patrick interjected. “We’ll have to tell Justice.” Then he looked at Chloe. “Did you truly recognize him?”
Chloe nodded. “Yes, but I can’t place from where I remember him.”
He offered his other elbow to Chloe, leading both women across the street. They made their way up the stairs and in through the front door, but it had no more closed behind them when Justice came flying down the stairs.
“What the fuck is going on?” he roared as he barreled toward them.
Patrick gave her a shove to the side as he stepped forward to catch Justice’s body against his own.
Millie yelped as Justice slammed his fist into Patrick’s gut. He groaned even as he w
rapped Justice in an iron grip sending them both crashing to the floor.
Without meaning to, Millie screamed at the sound of their bodies hitting the floor. Distantly, she realized that Chloe had done the same but she couldn’t peel her eyes away from the two men rolling on the ground, their grunts of pain punctuating each hit the other man landed.
“Justice White,” Millie screeched. “Stop this instant.”
He didn’t heed her warning.
For a moment, Millie considered intervening but that was a fool’s errand. They were so much larger, and professional fighters. Patrick had pushed her out of the way for a reason.
Justice landed a solid punch in Patrick’s side and she cried again.
Chloe rushed off as the two men continued to wrestle, hitting one another. They were the same size and evenly matched, and it seemed to Millie they might fight forever. Suddenly, Chloe reappeared with a bucket in hand.
Millie rushed forward to meet her friend. “You do it,” Chloe whispered.
Millie grabbed the bucket and as they rolled again, Justice on the top, she sent the contents, ice cold water, directly on Justice’s back.
She heard his sharp intake of breath as he bolted straighter, his back arching. Patrick tossed her brother off, scrambling to his feet.
“What the fuck, Millie?” Justice roared, rising, too. He began charging at her.
Patrick was in front of her before she could even speak. “Stop,” he growled out.
Justice came to a halt. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s my sister. You’re under my employ for her safety,” Justice snarled.
“About that.” Chloe raised a finger, coming to stand next to Millie.
“Stay out of it,” Justice snapped as he took a step closer. “And you.” He pointed at Patrick. “You’re done. Get out of here. We never want to see you again.”
Millie’s heart constricted in her chest. How could Justice do that? Would Patrick really leave? Would she see him again? The idea of losing him hurt far more than she’d ever imagined.
His Wallflower White: The Dark Duke’s Legacy Page 6
