His Wallflower White by Tammy Andresen

Chapter Eight

Millie sensedthe 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 wrapped 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.

“Fine,” Patrick growled back. “But you should have asked me what happened before you terminated my employment. Really, you should have asked before you started hitting. You’ve got a hot head, Justice White. It was your problem in the ring and it’s your issue now.”

Justice spluttered even as Patrick spun, leaning down to her ear. “Garden. Tonight.” And then he stormed for the front door.

Justice watched him go, his arms crossing over his chest. “He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”

“Yes, he does,” Chloe answered, her voice having gone very quiet.

Millie had been watching Patrick’s retreating back, regret lancing through her. Part of her wished to call him back. She felt safer with him here and, honestly, she just enjoyed his company. Honestly, she more than enjoyed it…

But at the touch of Chloe’s hand she turned to her friend.

Chloe had gone pale. She leaned against Millie, her body trembling. Instinctively, Millie wrapped her hands about the other woman. “Chloe, what’s wrong?”

“That man. The one who ran into you…”

“Who ran into you?” Justice barked, moving closer.

“This man. He bumped me in the street. It was odd.” Her hands gripped Chloe tighter. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“What did he look like?” Justice said, reaching for Chloe’s elbow.

“I don’t know. Medium build.” She scrunched her brow. “Brown hair, brown eyes. I’d never have picked him out of a crowd.”

“Fuck,” Justice yelled into the ceiling of the two-story foyer.

“Millie,” Chloe said, her voice trembling. “I remember where I’ve seen him before. He came to Cliffside, in Dover, to see Ben and Dez right after Dez’s ship exploded. He’s…” she gasped in a breath. “He’s William Parricide, not Erwin Macklemeyer.”

Millie blinked several times, trying to clear her vision, which had suddenly clouded. Because Patrick had just saved her from Will Parricide and Justice had fired him for the good deed. Her blurry gaze landed on her brother. “Go get him. Right now.”

“Will?” Justice asked. “I’d love to. But—”

“Not Will, you big lug. Patrick. He might have just saved our lives.”

Justice’s jaw grew hard. “I’m not going.”

She let go of Chloe and swung her reticule, hitting him square in the chest. It was the only form of communication Justice seemed to understand. “Go. Now. And make your apology pretty.”

“I shan’t,” he answered.

She lifted her chin in defiance. “You will. And you’ll do it right. Or Chloe is going to write to Ben this instant, and he’ll do it for you. Then you’ll have to deal with an angry duke. But my guess is Ben and Dez are enough to pound you into a bloody pulp, fighter or no. You’d deserve it, too.”

He clenched his fists at his sides. “You’re a real b—”

She hit him again. Hard. She heard her pin money smack his chest. “Go.”

He turned and silently stalked out the door, slamming the heavy oak panel behind him.

* * *

Patrick tossedhimself into one of the few chairs that decorated his abode. He’d converted an inexpensive warehouse into training and living quarters. It had the advantage of being cheap and well suited to physical pursuits, but it lacked comfort and beauty.

But he hadn’t wanted to pay for two spaces. He rose again and pried open a bit of wood, that covered a hole in the wall. Behind it was a can that he filled with his earnings. He’d nearly enough to buy a few more good horses and start his own business. It would be tight, but he could do it. Or he could have if he hadn’t just been sacked.

He scrubbed his face, replacing the board.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. In fact, it wasn’t even close. The idea of the business paled in his mind compared with thoughts of Millie. Would she be all right without his watch? What if she tried to go off an investigate on her own again?

A knock sounded at his door. Loud and insistent.

“Who is it?” he called, pushing the board more fully in place.

“It’s me. Justice.”

He flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders as he crossed the room. Patrick wrenched open the door and glared at the other man. Justice had acted like a complete ass today. Granted, Patrick had broken the rules, but he’d done it for what he’d hoped was a good reason. “What do you want?”

Justice made a face, looking half displeased and half like he was about to vomit. “Millie has informed me that I am to apologize and that I am to make it…pretty.”

Patrick’s brows shot up. “And you listened to her? That quickly?”

Justice’s frown deepened. “She can be rather…persuasive.”

“She can.”

Justice crossed his arms over his chest. “What I’d like to know is how you know that.”

It was Patrick’s turn to wince. “She can be rather persuasive.”

Justice shook his head. “I’m going to need more than that.”

Patrick wasn’t entirely certain how much to tell him. Had Millie said anything? “I told you, she saw me.”

Justice’s eyes widened. “That woman is too smart for her own damned good.”

Justice didn’t know the half of it. Her mind was so sharp, it was almost frightening. “What can I help you with?”

“May I?” Justice gestured toward the inside of his home, frowning. “This place is… interesting. And by that, I mean dank and depressing.”

“Do come in and, please, insult my home some more.” Patrick stepped aside.

But Justice ignored the sarcasm, his gaze making another sweep of the room. “I know you win a great deal. Where’d all your money go? Are you a gambler?”

Patrick had to grin at that. “If you must know, I’m not. Just saving up as much as I can, which means living and training here. Dark and dank equals cheap.”

Justice grabbed the pull-up bar and helped himself, doing several arm curl pull-ups until he dropped back to the ground. “What are you saving for?” Justice asked, helping himself to the only chair.

“I’d like to breed horses.” Patrick leaned against the table he’d pushed to the wall. His plan was no secret and he didn’t mind sharing. Even with Justice.

“Really?” Justice cocked his head. “And you’ve been saving. How much?”

“None of your business.”

Justice shrugged. “Suit yourself. But Ben was in that exact line of work prior to becoming the duke and he’s selling his breeding stock to finance the dukedom. Maybe the client list, too. This is my way of making my apologies. I’ll put in a word for you.”

Patrick’s heart climbed into his throat as he stood fully up. “You’re not serious?”

“I am.” Justice leaned forward. “The man you met today, the one who approached Millie…” his face tightened. “That was William Parricide.”

Patrick banged the table as the realization washed over him. “I knew something was off.”

“I’m not saying that I’m sorry I hit you. You weren’t even supposed to know Millie and you came waltzing in through the front door with her on your arm like old pals.”

“I understand.”

“But I do appreciate that you’re doing your job. And I’d like it if you came back.”

“Done,” he answered without hesitation.

Justice stared at him. “I expected that to be more difficult.”

“I’m worried about Millie. She’s damned intelligent but she makes some rather poor choices.”

“Such as?” Justice asked.

Patrick shrugged. “I’d be a fool to say.”

Justice gave a single nod. “She’s bloody deadly with a reticule.”

Patrick reached for his coat. “Should we go now? If Parricide was sniffing about, I don’t want to be gone for too long.”

Justice stood, too. “Pack some clothes. After today, I think it best you stay above the carriage house. It’s a damned sight better than here. And there will be a bonus for your trouble in some form or another.”

He wanted to tell Justice that he didn’t want his money. Millie was personal. But the business was his dream, and he’d taken this job to finance that future. Was that still what he wanted? Lately, his visions of the future, once so sharp, had grown hazy. He opened a drawer near his bed and tossed a few essentials in a sack. “I’m ready.”

Justice started for the door. But he turned back. “I expect you to be a gentleman with my sister. You’ll uphold to the code of conduct to the letter. Am I clear?”

“Understood.”

“Ben will be back tomorrow. And Dez a few days after that. The three of us…you don’t want to face that.”

Patrick straightened. “Understood. And just so you know, I want what’s best for Millie. Everything I’ve done, I have done with her best interests at heart.”

“Lady Millicent.” Justice raised a finger. “Don’t forget it.”

How could he? As if he hadn’t known that Lady Millicent was too far above him to ever touch.