Violet stood in the entry watching her husband descend the sweeping staircase. Dressed in riding breeches, high black boots and a white lawn shirt, Rule shrugged into a jacket as he reached the bottom and hurriedly strode toward her.
“I think I liked you with a beard,” she teased.
Rule rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “I have plans for you later.” He grinned wickedly. “I don’t want to leave whisker burns on your pretty little thighs.”
Violets eyes widened and her cheeks turned scarlet. “Rule Dewar!”
“Sorry.” He gave her a devilish grin, not the least repentant.
Violet fought not to smile. “Your brothers said to meet them at eleven o’clock at the rendezvous point. Mr. Bellows has your carriage waiting out in front.”
Rule nodded.
“I don’t suppose you would consider letting me go with you. I’m a very good shot, you know.”
“There will be a small army waiting for Montgomery.” He caught her chin and settled his mouth very softly over hers. “I want you here waiting for me when I get home.”
The heat in those blue, blue eyes left no doubt as to his intentions and her heart gave a ragged jerk.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said breathlessly.
Rule strode off down the hall to retrieve his weapons and disappeared inside his study. Glancing at the clock, Violet fidgeted anxiously.
What if something happened?
Montgomery was a murderer. No matter how many people lay in wait for him, something could go wrong. She couldn’t relax until Rule was home and safe.
A book lay open on the sofa in the drawing room, but she was far too nervous to read. She wished she could go with the men, but no amount of arguing was going to make that happen. She started down the hall toward the study to see if there was anything else Rule might need, when she heard the rap of the heavy brass knocker. Hatfield opened the door and surprise rolled through her as Jeffrey walked into the house.
The moment he saw her, he shoved past the butler and strode down the hall, not stopping until he reached her.
“I need to speak to you, Violet. The matter is urgent.”
“Jeffrey, I don’t know why you are here at this hour of the night but I don’t think—”
“It concerns your husband.”
Something was wrong. She knew Jeffrey well enough to recognize the worry on his face. “Come into the drawing room.” She quickly led him inside, leaving the door open so that Rule could join them. “What is it, Jeffrey?”
He took a deep breath. “I believed your husband was guilty of murder. I thought he had killed Charles Whitney to gain more profit from the sale of the company. Tonight I discovered Dewar is innocent of the crime.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand. How could you find out something like that?”
“You remember the American, Montgomery, the man who made the offer on your company?”
“Yes, I know him.” She didn’t say that very soon, if all went as planned, he was going to be arrested for murder.
“We are…we are business associates, Violet.”
Her head came up. “Business associates?”
“Montgomery and I…we formed a partnership of sorts in order to purchase Griffin.” The news shocked her. Jeffrey was aligned with Montgomery? She glanced toward the door, anxious for Rule to appear.
“You were involved in making the offer?” she asked, but now that she thought of it, she knew Jeffrey was raised in Virginia. The Southern cause was a topic they rarely discussed. “We turned Montgomery’s offer down.”
“I know. It’s all very complicated. But tonight when I stopped by J.P.’s hotel room, I found him packing. He admitted he killed Charles Whitney in order to stop him from buying the company.”
Her gaze slid back to the doorway. Rule stood stiffly in the doorway, listening to every word.
Her mind spun. “Montgomery killed Whitney.”
“That’s right.”
“But…but why would he try to make it appear as though Rule did it?”
“Perhaps he hoped you would turn to me once your husband was gone. Or maybe he thought you would be more easily convinced to sell than Dewar. It’s hard to say for certain.”
She looked to the doorway. Rule’s jaw was set, his expression hard. The handle of a pistol shoved into the waistband of his riding breeches flashed beneath his coat as he strode into the drawing room. His eyes were dark as they lit on Jeffrey’s face.
“You said Montgomery was packing,” Rule said, grabbing Jeffrey’s attention. “Where is he going?”
“I thought you were in jail.”
“Is that why you came here? You thought I was gone and you wanted to see my wife?”
“I came because I don’t condone murder, no matter the pretext.”
Rule studied Jeffrey’s face. “What exactly did Montgomery say?”
“J.P. showed me a note. He was being extorted by a man named Bates who knew about the murder. J.P.’s leaving England tonight, sailing with the tide aboard the Redoubt.”
“Great heavens.” Violet’s voice shook.
Rule’s jaw clenched. “I’ve got to stop him.”
“You’ll need help,” Violet said. “You can’t possibly go after him alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jeffrey offered.
Rule eyed him with suspicion, clearly unwilling to accept the help of a man involved with a murderer. “Someone needs to find my brothers, bring them and the police to the harbor.”
“I’ll go,” Violet said, glad she had worn her simple navy cambric after all.
Rule shook his head. “The area around the White Bull isn’t safe for a woman.” He turned to Jeffrey. “Your carriage outside?”
“Yes.”
“My brothers will be waiting a block north of the White Bull Tavern, an alley near the corner of Childers and Holborn. They’ll be there at eleven. Find them, bring them to the Redoubt. The harbormaster will know where to find it.”
Jeffrey nodded, apparently understanding Rule’s reluctance. “If that’s what you want.”
“You had better leave now,” Rule said. “It will take you a while to get there.”
Jeffrey flicked Violet a final glance and headed for the door.
The moment he was out of sight, Rule turned in her direction. “Do you trust him to do as he says?”
“Whatever you may think of him, I believe Jeffrey is a man of honor. That he came here tonight should be proof of that.”
Rule nodded his reluctant agreement.
“You can’t do this alone. I’m going with you.”
He shook his head. “Not a chance in hell.”
“You need someone with you in case there is trouble. I’m not afraid to use a gun and I am an excellent shot.”
“No.” He started past her, but Violet caught his arm.
“I’m going to the Redoubt. I can either come with you or I can wait until you leave and follow you. Which is it going to be?”
A muscle jerked in his cheek. He released a slow, deep breath. “You are trouble, Violet Dewar. Beautiful trouble, but trouble just the same.”
“I assume that means we are going together.”
His jaw firmed but he nodded. “Get your wrap and let’s go.”
Racing upstairs, she tugged open her dresser drawer, pulled out the small pocket pistol she had carried on her journey to England and stuck it into the pocket in the seam of her skirt. If they were going to capture a killer, she needed to be prepared for whatever might occur.
Rule stood impatiently waiting as she draped her shawl around her shoulders and descended the stairs. He caught her arm and hauled her rather forcefully out the door and down the front steps to the carriage.
As she looked up at the small man in the driver’s seat, she silently groaned, remembering it was Bellows’ night off. They would get no help there. Guiding her up the iron steps into the carriage, Rule told the coachman to head for the harbor, then followed her inside and settled himself on the seat across from her, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
He eyed her darkly. “I don’t like being blackmailed, sweetheart.”
Violet arched a brow. “And I don’t like my husband putting himself in danger with no one to help him.”
His hard look softened. He studied her a moment then his lips faintly curved. “You are the most amazing woman.”
Amazing enough for him to love? Violet made no reply.
Instead, her thoughts returned to Montgomery and the task of catching a murderer.
And making certain her husband remained a free man.