a very rich family. You must be fleecing him for all he’s worth.”

Daniel said nothing. He folded his arms across his chest and let Violet speak. “I told him all about you,” she said. “Everything you did. Everything I did.”

Jacobi nodded. “I taught you that too. Honesty is often the best way to take in a mark.”

“I told him what happened because I respect him,” Violet said. “I had no way of knowing whether he’d turn away from me in disgust, but he deserved to know.”

“I’m glad you did,” Jacobi said. “It made him look for me, which brought you back to me. Where you belong.” His voice softened to real affection, and he reached up to touch Violet’s cheek. “My little flower.”

Violet slapped him, the sound of the blow ringing. Jacobi’s eyes widened, and he pressed his hand to his face.

“Good for you, love,” Daniel said.

Violet leaned to Jacobi, her eyes hot, voice sharp. “I do not belong to you. I never did. I was afraid to come here tonight, because I was afraid I’d panic when I saw you. I was even afraid I might forgive you, because you’d tell me your remorse, and I’d feel horrible if I didn’t relent. I didn’t want either of those things to happen, so I didn’t want to see you. But he made me come.” Violet didn’t look at Daniel, didn’t point at him. “Because Daniel knew I needed to see you. I needed to see that you’re a pathetic, weak, friendless soul. That you’re base enough to lock a sixteen-year-old girl into a room with a man and walk away, knowing that man was going to rape her. Oh, you don’t like the word?” Violet leaned closer to Jacobi, who cringed away.

“He raped me, Jacobi. Yanked up my skirts, tore down my drawers, and entered me. It hurt—it hurt like nothing had ever hurt me before or has ever since. I vomited when it was over, and I dragged myself home, limping and bleeding. I couldn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, panicked at every noise in the night, and at the sound of every man’s voice. And you had the gall to apologize, to make me forgive you, to offer to marry me, because you couldn’t stand feeling remorseful. It would have been easier if you’d thrown me out and had done. But no, you kept me near, not letting me forget, making me believe I would be a bad person if I didn’t understand. You were still manipulating me, still playing me.” Violet stopped, her hands clenched, her eyes sparkling with rage. Daniel watched her force herself to stay calm. “Well, I never will forgive you. Never. You will have to live with your remorse and without me. I want the annulment or divorce, whatever it has to be.”

Jacobi still held his red cheek as he stared at her. Daniel saw Jacobi realize he’d misjudged Violet. He’d always believed her weak and easily won. The fool.

Jacobi pointed at Daniel, who’d leaned against the edge of the table, settling in to watch Violet carve him up. “Your marriage to Mackenzie is not legal. You can hate me forever, but by law, you are bound to me.”

“Well, I am here to become unbound to you,” Violet snapped. “Then I will rush to bind myself in truth to Daniel, because he is a hundred times the man you are. A thousand. He knows me better than anyone else in the world, and I’m not afraid to trust him with that knowledge. He is generous, greathearted, understanding, kind—everything you are not. And I love him for it.”

Daniel’s heart thumped in thick, hard beats. He balled his fists, not wanting to disturb the tableau of Violet glaring at her old mentor, her back straight and eyes steely. She was beautiful.

“Do you mean that, sweet?” he asked.

Violet’s eyelids flickered, but she drew a strengthening breath. “I do mean it. I love you, Daniel.”

“Then the world is a beautiful place.” Daniel unfolded his arms and left the table to put a heavy hand on Jacobi’s shoulder. “You lose, Monsieur. I have brought a sheaf of papers with me, which will start the process of annulment. By the way, two of the men I have following me for protection are not pugilists, but solicitors, to see that everything is done nice and legal. One of them is French, an expert in French civil law, and one English, also well versed. The Englishman, however, is also very good at boxing and not above threatening to break fingers to get clients to sign things.” Daniel had borrowed that gentleman from Mr. Sutton, who believed in combining the might of paperwork with the might of fists. Daniel put his other hand on Violet’s shoulder, this touch much more gentle. “You might want to go, Vi. This could get messy.”

“No.” Violet was so rigid she might shatter. “Not until I’m finished with him.”

Daniel released Jacobi to face Violet. “You are finished with him, love. I just saw you dismiss him from your life and from your heart. Now leave the mopping up to me.”

Violet swallowed, still shaking. He saw anger, triumph, and outrage in her eyes, the hard emotions swirling. Daniel touched her cheek. “Do you trust me?”

Violet hesitated for a time, then she shot a glare at Jacobi and gave Daniel a nod. “Very well.”

“Good girl.” Daniel pressed a kiss to her lips. “Simon will take care of you, and I’ll be along soon.”

Violet didn’t bow her head. She let Daniel walk her to the door, new strength in her.

She’d faced down her past and a man who’d betrayed her, and had realized finally that the betrayal was not her fault. Jacobi was weak, and Violet was strong. She could turn from him now and walk into her future.

“Oh, and Violet,” Daniel said as she started out the door. He sent her the warmest smile he had, putting his whole heart into it. “I love you too.”

Violet’s answering look held a joy so fierce it made Daniel’s heart sing. Violet gave Daniel a brief kiss on the lips, full of fire and promise, and then she was gone.

Daniel knew the moment the door closed again that everything changed. Jacobi dropped his defeated pose and stood up straighter, which made him look taller and more robust. The air became charged, the real confrontation about to begin.

Jacobi met Daniel’s gaze. “You’re a fool, Mackenzie. I’ll never give her up.”

“I think you will,” Daniel said calmly.

The two solicitors had entered the room as Violet exited, the French solicitor carrying the satchel of legal papers Daniel had asked him to draw up. Daniel took the stack of papers from him and thumped them to the table. “Come here and sign these,” Daniel said to Jacobi, “and I might not relieve my temper on you.”

“Threats of violence. How English.”

“I’m Scots. We’re not violent without good reason, but when we are . . . watch out.”

Jacobi stood his ground. “If I don’t sign, what then? You’ll make her your mistress? Or go to jail for bigamy?”

Daniel shrugged and pulled out the chair in front of the table. “If you don’t sign, I will find another way. Solicitors are clever, and I know many.” Daniel strengthened his grip on the chair, gesturing Jacobi to it. “Or I could simply shoot you. That would end Violet’s marriage to you quickly.”

Jacobi’s face lost some color. “You’d do that?”

“I don’t like you, Monsieur Ferrand. Who knows what I’ll do?”

Jacobi looked from Daniel to the solicitors, who waited quietly as they’d been instructed. Jacobi lifted his head. “I won’t sign. You were a fool to come here, Mackenzie. Did you think I wouldn’t be ready for you?”

“No,” Daniel let go of the chair and tightened the glove over his right hand. “Of course you’d prepare for my visit. That’s why it took you so long to contact me.”

He advanced on Jacobi. Jacobi watched, uncertain, as Daniel stopped in front of him, still adjusting the glove.

“I had a mixed upbringing,” Daniel said. “My father didn’t pay as much attention to me as I wanted, but he did teach me good things. How to ride horses, how to take care of them, how not to suffer fools. My uncles had a big part in raising me too. From Uncle Mac, I learned how to appreciate a beautiful woman and how to make her the center of my world. Uncle Ian taught me about aiming for what I want and letting nothing—no person, no thought, no fear—stop me. He also taught me how to outthink opponents without letting on that they’re being outthought.” Daniel smiled a little. Ian had never come straight out and said any of this; Daniel had learned it from years of observing the man. “From Uncle Hart, I learned about ruthlessness. Hart also taught me about cultivating people to have on my side. Money isn’t enough. You need friends, people who believe in you. Loyal ones, so when you need them, they’re right behind you.”

“You Scots like to hear yourselves talk.”

“At least you’re no longer calling me English. Now, from my dear aunties and my stepmother I learned about love. Real love, not just using people to make yourself feel good. Which is how I know

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