His Wallflower White by Tammy Andresen

Chapter Two

Millie caughtsight of him as she exited the carriage. The mystery man. Though she couldn’t see his hair or his face, the jacket and the shoulders they encased were unmistakable. It was him.

She stopped, watching his progression down the street, her breath catching.

Who was he and why had he been at her home?

Had she thought not to see him again? Clearly, she’d been wrong. Was he following her? Why? Was he connected to Dez’s spy?

“Millie,” Chloe called. “Are you coming?”

“No,” she whispered. Then louder. “Just a moment.” She watched him disappear, cursing the fate of being a woman. If she were a man, she’d have been able to follow. If she were a man, she’d have been out on her own already, like her brothers. Perhaps she’d be a detective or a successful businessperson in her own right. Instead, she was about to be paraded around in front of a stranger on the marriage mart.

“Millie,” Justice called from the front door.

She turned to look at her second youngest brother. Justice and Sayden had disappeared from her life until recently. Dez had sworn they weren’t fit for the company of ladies.

He might have been right.

Justice used profanity constantly, habitually thumbed his nose at social rules, and hit people regularly. All in all, Millie enjoyed his company tremendously.

But not at this moment.

She didn’t want another brother telling her to come inside. Take care. Be good. Follow the rules. Get married.

If she did marry, she wanted to choose a man who liked the real her. The woman under the silence. But more likely, she’d never wed at all.

“Justice,” she said, waving a hand in his direction. “I fancy a walk. Escort me.”

He stared at her from the top of the steps. “Why?”

“Because,” she attempted a convincing smile, a Chloe smile, “it’s beautiful out and I can’t go by myself, now can I?”

He gave her a long, appraising stare. “You don’t like to go on walks.”

“Not true,” she fired back. It wasn’t. “I don’t like London. I love a good long walk in the country. Clears the head.”

He let out a sigh. “Millie, I have better things to do this afternoon than—”

She held up a hand. “Fine. I’ll go alone.” And she turned and started down the street after the mystery man.

She knew exactly what she’d done.

First, she’d chosen the direction without having to specifically request and then justify to Justice why she wanted to go that way. Second, talking with Justice was wasting time and the man was tall, so likely a fast walker. And third, either Justice would return to the house because he didn’t care about rules, try to stop her, or…he’d follow.

“Millie,” Chloe called from the steps. “I’ll join you if you’d like.”

“No need.” She waved her hand, picking up her pace. Behind her, she could practically hear the wheels in Justice’s head grinding as he considered his options. She crossed the street and still, he didn’t follow.

Would he actually allow her to just walk away? How…delightful. She’d never considered just how liberating a walk alone might be.

She drew in a deep gulp of air, filling her lungs as she picked up the pace again. Did she have a chance to catch up to the man who’d been spying on her?

How nice would it be to take an active role in her own life? Chase down a man who threatened her? Decide her own future?

But she didn’t think on it further as a hand clamped about her arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” Justice stood next to her, a large and imposing shadow and a rather firm grip.

“I’ve been perfectly clear,” she answered back, tilting her chin higher in the air.

“As was I. The answer is no.”

Chloe had crossed the street too. “I’ll accompany you.”

Chloe was not a very fast walker or Millie would have simply asked her in the first place. “That’s very kind,” she said, giving Justice what she hoped was her frostiest glance. “You know that either Ben or Dez would have accompanied me at my request.” Both were currently gone—Dez taking a short trip with his new bride and Ben to his stables in the west. Their travels only overlapped a few days, but it had been a point of concern that they were leaving the women in Justice’s care. Millie snorted. Justice needed far more babysitting than she, Chloe or Esme.

Justice grunted. “Well, I’m not a complete dandy like the two of them.”

She gave her arm a bit of a tug, but Justice held firm. If she’d had any hope of catching up to the man, it was slipping away. “Dandy? Because they are caring and considerate of my needs? Have you ever considered what it might be like to be trapped in this house? Never go anywhere when you fancy?”

Justice scowled in return. “I’ve never considered what it might be like to be so small and useless.”

She let out a huff of irritation at his callous comment. Clearly, Ben and Dez had a point and he needed a bit of taming. She was wearing leather boots with a bit of a heel and, in a move she hadn’t employed in years, she brought up her knee in a quick jerk and dropped her heel down on his toes. He gave a sharp guttural moan as he released her arm and bent down to grab his foot.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“You deserved it,” she fired back. “Perhaps next time, you’ll be a more considerate family member.” And with that she swished her skirts and started for the house. If she’d had a chance of catching that man, it was gone.

“We cannot get you married fast enough,” Justice muttered as he finally straightened.

Her breath caught. There it was again. The M word. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Not that she expected him to answer. Angry as he was, Justice wasn’t going to share any more. So instead, she crossed the street to head inside.

Regardless, she didn’t care. Whatever their plans, she had no intention of taking part in them.

“Millie,” Chloe admonished behind her. “What’s gotten into you? Violence?”

But Esme, who’d been waiting on the stairs, was hiding a smile behind her gloved hand.

“Justice is this side of a savage. Perhaps all fighters are. But he takes a strong hand, and he needs a strong one back,” Millie said by way of explanation. “A woman does not grow up with four brothers and not learn how to control them.”

And she planned to do just that. On all fronts. And that included allowing her to be an active participant in the dukedom.

A giggle burst from behind Esme’s hand. “He’s going to be angry with you.”

“I don’t give a fig,” Millie muttered as she passed by Esme and into the house. Taking off her hat and removing her gloves, she turned back to Esme and Chloe. “But all the same, I think I shall lie down. Stay out of the way for a bit?”

Chloe nodded approvingly. “Good idea.”

Turning, Millie started up the stairs. But she didn’t go to her room. Instead, she made her way toward Ben’s study.

She knew her eldest brother was out of town for a few days, at least. And while she’d been unable to track the mystery man, she wondered who he might be and if any answers could be found in the house. Was he related to the mystery swirling about Ben and Dez? She knew Ben had a mountain of correspondence on his desk. And while much of it involved the dukedom, at least some of it had to do with the investigation her brothers had undertaken. Perhaps if she could solve some piece of that, she might prove her worth in taking the reins in her own life.

And end this farce of a plan involving her future.

How could Millie tell them outright she’d little interest in marriage? She could outright say it but what were the odds they’d listen? She’d need leverage and proof of her other skills.

She knocked softly on the door and then peeked her head in, making certain no staff were about. Slipping inside, she closed the heavy oak panel behind her and crossed to the large desk.

As she glanced at the neatly arranged piles, she grinned. Subterfuge would be far easier with a neat organizational system.

She skimmed through the first three piles that involved the dukedom. Letters containing lists of assets and debts. Something she was able to quickly process as she noted, there seemed to be some concern over income. How odd.

But her attention shifted as she found a single sheet parchment with several names written on it. R. White was the very last name on the list. She gasped, covering her mouth. Her father’s name was written on the list, too.

And then underneath was a scroll she didn’t recognize.

17 Highdown Road

Midnight.

Little shivers randown her spine. What was this about? Their father? Their mystery sibling? Just a game of cards? There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Patrick stoodin the shadow of the building between two lamplights. Justice was late.

This was familiar ground for both of them as a few of the empty warehouses served as fight rings. Not large fights that paid well and drew big crowds. These were dirt scratch events that made their money off betting, the fighters getting paid a percentage.

Those nights could pay well but they were always dangerous. A man never knew who he might face or how unscrupulous his opponent might be. Patrick usually came out ahead but a few times of late, he’d been uncomfortably close to losing everything. Money, sure. Health, most likely. His very life, possibly.

Footsteps caught his ear and he pressed further into the shadows in case it was not Justice who approached.

His muscles tensed as a man came into view, small and slight with his hat slung low over his face. His shoulders were hunched and he walked slowly, looking this way and that as though he were nervous.

Blood surged in Patrick’s veins even as his mind focused in, preparing. Surely, the fellow was up to no good.

The man stopped, peering into the space between two buildings before moving on, and then stopped again as he lifted up on the balls of his feet and looked into the window.

For a moment, Patrick considered what he might do. Let the man pass or step out and ask him what the hell he was about.

But distantly, men called to one another, rough and loud. The fellow in front of him froze. Only a few feet from Patrick, he peered into the darkness and then he slowly swiveled his head, assessing the street until he looked directly at Patrick.

“Hello,” Patrick said a second before he stepped forward grabbing the man with one arm, pinning both his arms to his own body as his other hand clasped over the stranger’s mouth.

But very quickly he realized that the situation was all wrong. Or at least the man was because as he pulled him to his front, soft breasts pressed against his lower chest. And under his hand were pillow-like lips and silky smooth skin. No rough stubble. This was no man but a woman in trousers. Her hat fell to the ground and large eyes stared up at him, fear making her breath suck in under his fingers.

He knew those eyes and that pert little nose anywhere. “Lady Millicent?”

Which only caused her gaze to widen. She was as still as a cornered rabbit in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, then realized she had no means of answering since his hand still covered her mouth. “I’m going to drop my hand so that you can answer. But if you scream, I’m covering it right back up. Not that anyone will come. This is no place for any woman but certainly not one like you.” He glanced quickly at the silent street full of dirty warehouses that only opened up to the stench of the Thames.

But his gaze quickly focused on Millie as he slowly dropped his hand. She did not scream, which he was grateful for except that she gave him the most withering glare a woman had ever bestowed upon him.

“Unhand me,” she demanded, disdain dripping from her voice.

“In a moment,” he returned. He didn’t openly acknowledge that she felt rather delightful pressed to him. Her curves were as soft and lush as he’d imagined. The more immediate problem was that she might very well bolt. And as the man tasked with her safety, that would be a problem. “First we need to get a few things straight.”

Her gaze went from disdainful to wary. “Why have you been following me?”

Inwardly he cringed. She was not supposed to know he existed and not only was she completely aware of him, she’d tracked him for Christ’s sake. He could feel his future slipping away. “How did you find me here?” he countered. He was the one holding her hostage, after all.

“How did you know my name?”

“Why aren’t you answering my questions?” he fired back. Damn but she was exasperating. And pretty. And achingly warm pressed against him.

“Why aren’t you answering mine?”

“I’ve got you in my grasp, remember?” His hand splayed out on her back. The very lovely curve of it, firm yet supple under his palm. He loved a woman’s back and hers was a rare delight. He might as well enjoy it as he was likely never to see her again.

She raised her brows. “A woman is always in a man’s grasp. That doesn’t mean we don’t have thoughts, questions, and feelings. Or that we have to bend to their will all of the time.”

He started because…well…her answer took him by surprise. There was truth in it but also a bitterness within her voice that made him cock his head and consider her. “You do have four rather large and imposing brothers. I suppose they can be rather intimidating.”

She harrumphed then, which made her breasts press deeper into his front. He nearly groaned at the feel of them. She’d worn a man’s shirt but not bound the rounded flesh. “Justice is the orneriest, but even he is manageable. At least for now.”

If not her brothers, who did she refer to? But that was the least of the questions that stood between them. “Justice? Did he tell you where to find me?”

A small smile pulled at her mouth then. “Justice never tells me anything. At least nothing I can decipher amidst the cursing.”

He couldn’t help himself. He smiled back. “Cursing is a fighter’s prerogative.”

“Is it? You look like a fighter and yet I’ve not heard you use a single bit of profanity.”

His grin widened. “I’m on my very best behavior.”

“And why is that?” she asked, shifting against him so that her hips brushed his.

He clenched in response. Why the hell was this woman having such an effect on him? Was it the breeches?

“Because…” Did he tell her brothers had employed him? It was supposed to be a secret. Then again, if she knew, the job might be easier. “You are the sister of a duke while I am the second son of a lowly viscount.”

She gasped in a breath. “You’re of the peerage.” Her head tilted to the side. “I should have known by your speech. Are you also a fighter?”

“I am,” he answered.

She began to wiggle one arm, surely trying to work it out of his grasp but he held firm. He honestly liked the effect the movement created. Her entire body was pressing against him in a rhythmic motion as she attempted to work the arm free. She grunted a bit as she said her next words. “Is that how you know Justice?”

His teeth clenched, his jaw tight, as she continued to move against him. The sound of her voice along with the feel of her had his cock swelling and that wouldn’t do at all. “It is.”

“But why would Ben have a note on his desk to come here tonight? Was he meeting you? Why? A simple game of cards or something more?”

He should have seen that question coming. But how was a man to think in his current position?

Fortunately, footsteps on the cobblestone saved him from answering. Spinning about, so her back was the to wall rather than the street, he released Millie, pressing her deeper into the shadows. “Don’t speak and don’t move.”

Then he turned back to face whomever made their way toward him and Millie.