Kat Martin

Rule's Bride


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middle brother, demanded, his jaw as hard as steel. He was once a soldier and it showed in his commanding tone and the hard lines of his face. His coloring was the same as Rule’s, his hair jet-black, and his eyes an intense shade of blue. “How long have you been married and why the bloody hell didn’t you tell us?”

      “I intended to tell you this morning,” Rule said, trying not to be intimidated, which, being the youngest, wasn’t that easy to do. “That is the reason I asked you to come.”

      He had known his brothers were in London, in town on brewery business. Royal owned Swansdowne Ale, the most popular beer in England. Reese grew a large percentage of the barley used in the brewing process. Both of them had grown wealthy from the profits over the years.

      And both were happily married.

      Which, at the moment, didn’t bode well.

      “So how did you find out?” Rule asked.

      “My wife told me,” they both said in unison. Reese glared at Rule, leaving Royal to explain.

      “Lily’s maid heard it from one of the servants, who heard it from another of the servants, who heard it from one of yours.”

      “Which is exactly how Beth got the news,” Reese added darkly. “I think you owe us an explanation, little brother.”

      Rule blew out a breath. He was twenty-seven years old, the head of a huge manufacturing firm, and they still saw him as a boy.

      “I married Violet Griffin in Boston three years ago. It was arranged by her father, who had discovered he was dying. She was only sixteen at the time, so—”

      “Sixteen!” Royal nearly shouted.

      “You married a sixteen-year-old girl?” Reese’s fierce gaze bored into him.

      “In point of fact, the marriage was never consummated—since she was too young at the time we were wed.”

      Reese sat down in a chair across from him and Royal did the same.

      “I think you had better start at the beginning,” Royal said while Reese just sat there glaring.

      For the next half hour, he tried to make his brothers understand what had transpired in Boston. How much he had to gain from the arrangement, how he had done it partly to fulfill the vow he had made to their father. He wasn’t sure they accepted his reasons.

      He was even less certain they understood his rationale when he sent for Violet and she walked into the study.

      Royal looked at Reese. Reese stared back at Royal, then both of them smiled.

      “It’s nice to meet you, my lady,” Royal said.

      It was obvious his brothers believed he had married Violet because of her beauty. They thought the marriage was motivated by desire more than money.

      It wasn’t true then.

      It was more than accurate now.

      Walking toward her, Royal reached out and warmly took her hand. “Welcome to the family.”

      Violet looked to Rule for help, clearly hoping he would explain their arrangement, but Rule made no comment. As far as he was concerned, they were married and that was that.

      Violet mustered a smile. “Good morning…my lord.”

      “He’s a duke,” Rule said, fighting not to grin. “You address him as His Grace.”

      “I hope you will address me as Royal,” his brother said smoothly. “We are all family now.”

      For the first time since her arrival, Violet seemed flustered. “I am sorry. I am unused to proper English forms of address. Please…I hope you will call me Violet.”

      Royal seemed pleased.

      “And this is my brother, Reese.” Rule waited as his middle brother made a very formal bow.

      “A pleasure to meet you, my—”

      “Violet, if you would.”

      Reese’s mouth twitched. For a man who never used to smile, he certainly seemed amused. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Violet.”

      “You, as well…Reese.”

      “I’m sorry my wife isn’t here,” Reese said. “Elizabeth is eager to meet you.”

      “As is Lily,” Royal added. “Once you are properly settled, we’ll have supper so we can all get to know each other.” Royal flicked Rule a warning glance. You have a wife now, those golden eyes said. You had better treat her well.

      Rule turned to Violet. “There is a ball tomorrow night. It’s being given by the Marchioness of Wyhurst in honor of her daughter, Sabrina. I am expected to attend. I believe my brothers and their wives will also be going. It would give me a chance to introduce you. I would be pleased if you and your cousin would accompany me.”

      Violet flashed him a look of entreaty. She didn’t want their marriage known, he could see. And yet she had agreed to give him the next thirty days.

      “All right,” she reluctantly agreed.

      Royal and Reese both rose, taking their cue to leave. “Then we shall see you at the ball,” Royal said.

      The men left the study and the minute the door was closed, Violet turned on Rule. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

      “Why not?”

      “Once we are out in Society, all of London will believe we are truly wed when, thirty days from now, I will be returning to Boston.”

      Rule moved closer, so near he caught a whiff of her floral perfume. Violets, he thought, finding the idea charming. “You don’t know that for certain.”

      “I do.”

      He only shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he said softly. Reaching out, he cupped her face between his hands, bent his head and captured her lips. It was a soft, gentle kiss, meant to coax and not frighten. But when she didn’t resist, he lingered a few seconds more, tasting the corners of her mouth, feeling her bottom lip tremble.

      Violet swayed toward him, set her hands on his shoulders, and desire surged through his blood. When her soft lips parted under his, his tongue slipped inside and he bit back a groan of pure pleasure.

      Violet trembled and an instant later, broke away.

      “That…that was not part of our agreement.”

      He cocked a brow, his shaft still hard and pulsing. “Wasn’t it? I don’t believe kissing my wife is a breach of contract.”

      “That was…that was…more than a kiss.”

      “Violet, love, it was merely a tasting. When the time is right, I will show you what is more than a kiss.”

      Her eyes widened. She stood there an instant, then whirled away from him and rushed to the door of the study.

      Rule chuckled softly, a feeling of triumph rising inside him.

      A single kiss was only the beginning of what he had planned.

      Caroline was excited, but Violet dressed for the evening with dread. Tonight she would meet the rest of Rule’s family, as well as his friends. He would introduce her as his wife.

      She wasn’t truly his wife and never would be. Their sham of a marriage would be over in a single month. She would return to Boston and marry Jeffrey, just as she had planned.

      “You look like your favorite cat just died,” Caroline said as she walked into Violet’s bedroom. “For heaven’s sake, Vi, we are going to a fabulous ball hosted by a marchioness! And we are going in company with a duke, a duchess, a countess and two lords! How can you look so glum?”

      “I have to spend the evening pretending to be Rule’s wife, that is how I can look