The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

madman.”

“Not really. Mortimer’s an ass, and you’re a beautiful woman with more bravery and spirit than he ever will have. He wanted to use you to pay off his debt, and I’m sick to death of people doing that. Never again.”

Daniel’s determination was palpable, as though he were erecting a wall of it between Violet and the world. Comforting, and a little terrifying. Violet didn’t know how to respond. No one had ever tried to protect her before.

“I was surprised you didn’t want to stop in Paris,” she said. “To find Jacobi.”

“To run up and down the streets of a huge city looking for one man? By myself? Not likely. I have agents to do that for me while I sit comfortably in Berkshire. Or maybe not comfortably. Dad expects me to work, not lounge about, and I have plenty to do.”

Violet wondered what she would do, and what Daniel would expect her to do. And did that frighten her? Or excite her?

Daniel closed his arms all the way around her, pulling her into warmth. His lips touched her cheek, then her ear, her hair. Though her thick coat and his kept them apart, Violet felt the beating of his heart, the heat of his body, Daniel’s strength. In the swirling vortex of her life, Daniel was becoming the only solid pillar.

In London, Violet’s uncertainty began to return. She’d supposed she and her mother would arrange some kind of rent with Daniel and move into Mortimer’s former house—although with all that had happened there, Violet would prefer to find a boardinghouse.

Ainsley, on the other hand, assumed they’d stay with the Duke of Kilmorgan.

Violet wanted to jump out of the coach carrying them to the heart of Mayfair and run back to the train station. Ainsley continued explaining as the carriage rolled along, seeing nothing amiss. The duke had a very large house on Grosvenor Square, which had room for everyone for a few days. Of course the guests would stay there.

Celine thought it a fine idea. “A duke,” she said, her eyes alight. “Just imagine, Violet, how very grand. And how kind. I’ll do a reading for him, and the duchess. Gratis, of course.”

“Mama, you will do nothing of the sort,” Violet said hastily.

“Nonsense. Even dukes like to know the news from the other side. And a duke’s house on Grosvenor Square sounds ever so comfortable.”

Violet sent Daniel an appealing look. He had taken the seat next to Ainsley, across from Violet and Celine. Cameron and Gavina had taken a second conveyance, Lord Cameron declaring they’d be fools to all try to fit into one coach. Mary had been given a seat next to the coachman on the first carriage, Cameron and Ainsley’s servants piling onto the second.

Daniel seemed to understand Violet’s dismay. “Ainsley,” he said. “You know Uncle Hart is a frightening thing to spring upon a guest, especially after a long journey. Ian and Beth’s home is very comfortable and much less intimidating. Better for Violet. Mac and Isabella are always full up, and they’re not exactly restful either. If Dad would keep a regular house in London, life would be more convenient, but there it is.”

Ainsley’s brow puckered. “But Ian . . .”

She looked worried. “I’ll speak to Beth,” Daniel said reassuringly. “All will be well.” He turned back to Violet. “Ian and Beth have three rather noisy children, though, Vi. Do you mind?”

If the children were anything like Gavina, who’d included Violet in every one of her rather entertaining conversations, Violet wouldn’t mind at all. “I like children,” she said.

Celine hesitated. “I’m not certain . . . My nerves . . . And a duke is so very civilized.”

“Then it’s settled,” Daniel broke in. “Violet will bed down at Ian and Beth’s, while her mum goes to Uncle Hart’s.”

Celine’s eyes widened. “Me, stay without Violet? I’ve never done without Violet before.”

Ainsley leaned forward and patted Celine’s knee. “No need to worry. The duke has plenty of servants to do every little thing for you. There’s even a servant who will ring a bell to summon another servant if you wish. You’ll feel like a queen.”

“Well.” Celine looked less fearful. “I suppose I can try. Violet will be nearby, will she?”

“Not far,” Ainsley said. “Good. This will resolve things nicely.”

Daniel tipped Violet a wink. They were conspiring—Daniel and his stepmother. About what, Violet wasn’t certain, but Daniel looked triumphant.

Chapter 24

“Ye anxious to rest and sleep?” Daniel asked Violet when they rolled away from the ducal mansion, where the remainder of the party had disembarked.

The tall house on Grosvenor Square had poured servants in black and white who’d descended on the first coach, then the second. The air had been full of voices—greetings, questions, orders.

The duke’s servants hadn’t behaved as Violet assumed they would. They were neither cowed nor fearful, scurrying or resentful. They welcomed Lord and Lady Cameron with energy, and one of the footmen swung Gavina up onto his shoulders. A maid came down the stairs leading a small boy by the hand. Ainsley exclaimed in joy and swept him up, never minding that his little boots were dirty.

Stuart, Violet surmised, Daniel’s half-brother. Cameron took his son from Ainsley after Stuart had finished kissing his mother, and swung him high.

When Daniel stepped down, Stuart sang out to him, and Daniel paused to take his hand and give him a loud kiss on the forehead. The footmen then surrounded Daniel, talking excitedly, asking him questions about the balloon crash in France, about what he’d do now.

Of the frightening duke, there was no sign. He and the duchess were out taking tea with a cabinet minister and his wife, the majordomo reported, and their young lordships were riding in the park with their riding master. They’d all be home soon.

A horde of maids surrounded Celine with a solicitation that pleased her. Violet had been a bit apprehensive about leaving her mother with strangers, but the servants were giving her every deference. Ainsley and Cameron would be staying here too. Celine liked Ainsley, and Mary agreed to remain to look after her instead of going with Violet.

And so Violet drove off alone with Daniel.

Ye anxious to rest and sleep? he’d asked. Not really. Everything was too new, too nerve-racking to let her calm. And now Violet had another household to meet, that of the elusive Lord Ian.

“I’m not tired at all,” Violet said.

“Then we’ll make a stop first before I get you settled. Bertram,” he called up to the coachman. “Just drop us at my house, will you? You can take Violet’s things on to Uncle Ian’s.”

“Yes, sir, Young Master Daniel,” Bertram said, and the coach swung around a corner.

“They’ll be calling me Young Master Daniel when I’m eighty.” Daniel sat back—next to Violet now. “Ah, well, I don’t really mind.”

Violet had met plenty of families in her travels. Because of her line of work, most of them had been torn by grief—wives losing husbands; mothers, sons; sisters, brothers. She’d also seen families like the Laniers, where one member believed in the spirit world and was tormented for that belief.

She’d rarely seen a family with as much camaraderie and acceptance as the Mackenzies. Violet hadn’t met the duke yet, or Lord Cameron’s other brothers or wives, but the way Ainsley and Daniel spoke of them made her know there was no envy or hatred between the Mackenzies. She’d seen families filled with jealousy, or bare tolerance of one another, or absolute sorrow. She rarely encountered families comfortable and at peace.

Daniel was lucky, so very lucky. Violet loved her mother, but she wasn’t easy friends with her. Violet was more like a lady’s companion, taking care of Celine, making decisions for her, living life for Celine’s comfort.

Not looking after Celine while they stayed in London, however long that might be, felt strange to Violet. Like