His Wallflower White by Tammy Andresen
Chapter Sixteen
Millie lookedout at the road, the dust kicking up behind them. They’d left London before the sun had risen and now, at close to noon, they’d made their way out of the city and onto the North Road.
She knew they’d stop soon to change horses and her legs screamed for a stretch. Justice rode with them. Ben, Chloe, Dez and Fleur were in the carriage just behind.
“How close to Dover will we travel?” Justice asked scratching his chin.
Patrick held her hand, his fingers flexing against hers. “You know better than me, I would imagine. But based on the route that Ben showed me, not that close.”
Justice grimaced. “Damn.”
“Why?” she asked, leaning forward to look at her brother.
He shrugged. “I’ve got unfinished business there.”
“Is it with the shipping company or with Cliffside?” Their mother’s home had been granted in equal shares to all of them.
Justice shook his head. “I don’t give a damn about Cliffside. Dez already gave Ben his share in exchange for the ships. If Ben wants to sell, I’ll take my part and use it to start our next venture.”
“Which is?” Millie asked. It was an interesting idea. Perhaps her brother would rather have her share of the seaside home instead of the ring.
Justice shrugged. “Not sure yet but I’ll know it when I find it and, if we’ve sold, I’ll be ready.”
“So, if you’re not going to Dover for Cliffside that means that the business is the reason for your visit?”
Justice shrugged. “Not really. If the treaty is signed, then the war will be over, which means we’ll be out of a job.”
Millie shook her head. “If the war is over then won’t the borders open back up? Why is Parricide still fighting us if the smuggling business is about to disappear?”
Justice scratched at his chin. “I’m not certain.” Then his gaze grew distant. “You know, that night we went to the ball, Parricide was there, along with the Russian diplomat.”
Millie blinked. “You don’t think he’d try to stop the treaty so that he could keep smuggling, do you?”
“I’ll ask Dez, but my impression is that the man is capable of anything.”
A chill ran down her spine and she pressed closer to Patrick. Then another thought occurred to her. “If you’re not going to Dover because of the business and you’re not going because of the house, then why are you going?”
To her complete amazement, the slightest touch of pink tinged her brother’s cheeks. “That’s not your concern,” he said with a decided harrumph.
Millie dipped her chin, assessing her brother. What was going on with him? But as she opened her mouth to ask more, the carriage began to slow.
Patrick sat up straighter.
“Move out the way,” the driver called.
“What’s happening?” Justice asked, twisting forward in his seat.
A gunshot was his answer.
Followed by a loud thump.
Millie screamed, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. Justice tossed open the carriage door, hopping out into a crouch.
“Driver’s all right!” he called into them as he pulled a pistol from his belt, beginning to load.
Patrick turned to her. “Get down on the floor, love,” he whispered and then he hopped out, too.
Millie did as he bid, crouching as low as she could on her hands and knees.
“What do you want, Parricide?” Patrick yelled.
Millie stifled another scream her arms tucking over her head. It was him. Will Parricide.
“You must know by now,” Parricide called back. “I want the sister, of course.”
She hated the coldness in his voice.
Patrick had finished loading his pistol. “Might I ask why?”
“Not that it’s your business, but Destrian and I have unfinished business. And as he loves his sister, she’ll help me ensure that it all gets done in an easy manner.”
Justice had finished loading, too, and both men crouched behind the open carriage door, each leveling their pistols.
But it was Patrick who answered. “As Destrian’s sister is now my wife, I’m afraid it is my business, and you’ll have to find another way to work things out with the Whites.”
Another deafening blast filled the air, Millie covered her ears against the noise as the lead ball hit the carriage. Wood splintered, raining down on her as she ducked her head lower a gasping sob wrenching from her lips.
The sound of another carriage filled her ears and she slumped in relief. Dez and Ben were almost here.
But even as she thought it, another shot rang out and she heard the distant cry of a man.
“By God, you got him,” Justice yelled as he started to stand.
“He got back up, stay down,” Patrick snarled as he pulled Justice back down just before a shower of bullets hit the carriage.
Millie covered her head with her arms, squeezing her eyes shut.
She heard the scuffling of men, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and metal clashing, but she did as Patrick had said, and she remained crouched with her head covered. Truth be told, she was afraid to look.
And she’d never appreciated her husband or her brothers more.
“Millie,” Patrick said close to her ear. “Millie, are you all right?”
And then a gentle hand came to her back.
She tried to move her arms from around her head but they’d locked up, they refused to work. “Patrick,” she said a second before he was lifting her from the carriage floor.
“Are you hit? Hurt?”
He crushed her against his body and then lowered them both to the grass, his hands running all over her.
“No, I don’t think so. Just…” she gasped in a breath. “Just frightened.”
And then her eyes finally focused her gaze on his face. His battered and bruised face. “Patrick!”
He glanced at her, an easy tenderness crinkling his eyes despite his haggard appearance. “I’m fine, too. Nothing that hasn’t happened to me a thousand times before.”
She reached up and touched a bruise already forming on his cheekbone. “But...”
“You should see what he did to the other men,” Justice called from his spot against the carriage wheel. “And he shot Parricide, too. Maybe he’ll die from the wound.” He’d slid down to sit in the dirt of the road, Ben and Dez on either side of him.
“Men?” she trembled, attempting to sit up.
Patrick shifted to help her gain her purchase. “Parricide attacked with about ten men. Apparently, he was tired of the solo effort.”
She covered her mouth as she looked at her brothers, all battered and bruised. Her gaze darted from one to the other until they rested on Justice, a red stain growing on Justice’s breeches. “Justice,” she said, trying to scramble up.
He looked down at his wound. “Bloody sword. But I’ll be fine. It’s not that deep.”
Her gaze collided with Ben’s. “How much closer is Dover?”
Ben’s brows went up. “It’s only a day and a half ride from here.”
She looked at Justice. As much as he’d irritated her, he’d also put himself at risk to keep her safe. “Meet us when you’re recovered.”
“But what if Parricide attacks again?” Patrick asked.
“For all we know, he’ll die,” Ben added even as Patrick held her closer. “From what I could see, Patrick shot him straight through the shoulder.”
Justice gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Millie,” he said as he slowly started to rise. “For now, let’s find the nearest village and put ourselves back together. Then we can plan what to do next.”
Patrick gave her another squeeze. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Thanks to you.”
And even though her brothers were right there, he leaned down and gave her a soft kiss. “I told you, Millie. I love you. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”
“I love you, too,” she replied. She’d found her place. Her purpose and her life, here in this man’s arms.
