Violet couldn’t help but smile. Arguing with her husband was both vexing and strangely entertaining.
“Anyway, it will give me a chance to see what exactly our marriage brought you,” she continued. “I’d like to see firsthand what the funds you received after our wedding will allow you to achieve.”
James licked his lips. “These gang members… Violet, you don’t understand. They kill people without even thinking twice about it. They are violent and deadly. You cannot come with me to meet them.”
“I am not afraid of them,” she insisted, tossing her head impatiently. “And perhaps they will soften once they meet me, my sister, and my mother. Once they know you have women to protect, perhaps they won’t threaten you as much as they do now.”
“I doubt it,” James said skeptically.
“Regardless, it has been decided,” she continued. “I have already spoken with Rosalie and Mama, and they have agreed to accompany us.”
“You’ve what?! Violet, this is too dangerous! I absolutely forbid it. You all could be hurt, or worse.”
“We are not delicate, fragile creatures.” She raised an eyebrow. “We spent our lives dealing with and watching out for my father. We know how to handle ourselves.”
She didn’t give him another opportunity to argue. She stood up and strode to the door. Only once she was there did she turn back to look at him.
“Hurry up and get dressed, so we can make sure we aren’t late to meet the gangsters.”
James was left staring after her, furious and indecisive. On the one hand, he couldn’t let his wife accompany him—he would only put her in danger. On the other hand, every point she made was valid. He couldn’t risk his own life, but he also couldn’t leave her here unprotected.
For a long moment, he sat on the settee, undecided. Then he made up his mind.
Once he had dressed, shaved, and eaten a quick breakfast downstairs, he pulled Violet into the hallway as his footmen prepared the carriage for their journey.
“You, Miss Rosalie, and Lady Carfield may come,” he acquiesced as she adjusted her gloves. “But under no circumstances are you to say anything during the meeting. Do you understand that?”
“Of course,” Violet said, looking as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. “I wouldn’t know what to say to a gangster anyway.”
“All right.” James let out a long, slow exhale. “As long as you say nothing, and stand demurely in the back, then nothing bad can happen.”
Then why did he have a feeling that the situation was already spiraling out of control?
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Duke of Attorton come down from his high horse to grace us with his presence.”
The man who stood at the foyer of the small inn where James, Violet, Rosalie, and Lady Carfield had driven to meet him was tall, with curly red hair streaked with gray, large hands, and one of the scariest faces Violet had ever seen. It was scarred, with bite marks and scratches, and when he raised his hand to push back a fiery red lock, she noticed that it was burnt.
He was, in other words, everything she had imagined a gangster might be.
“Farrell,” her husband said, a grim look on his face as he strode forward. “We meet again.”
Farrell gripped James’s hand, and his cold, icy-blue eyes narrowed. “And hopefully under less unsavory circumstances than the last time we met.”
“The last time we met, you were about to shoot a dog that hadn’t performed well in the ring,” James said coldly as he dropped Farrell’s hand.
“Yes, and you thought it necessary to rescue the welp.” Farrell waved a hand dismissively. “Although you always seem eager to protect down-and-out things, don’t you?” His eyes flickered to Violet, her sister, and her mother. “Or is there another reason why you have married the spawn of the villainous Viscount Carfield?”
His eyes lingered on Violet, and she felt her blood run cold under his stare. This man was dangerous, she suddenly realized. He was taller than her husband and much broader, and James was already of a formidable stature. Not only that, but several ‘bodyguards’ were stationed around the room, each one as large and frightening-looking as the last.
In comparison, their own guards felt like amateurs.
“Another man holds that title now,” James pointed out coldly. “The man you are referring to has been stripped of his title and is in prison.”
Farrell cocked his head. “That’s not what I heard.”
Fear shot through Violet.
So, Father’s escape has made the rounds in the criminal underworld.
