The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie (28 page)

“It is entirely necessary,” Daniel said. “A condition of them releasing you, in fact. We’re going to Berkshire, and you and your mother are coming with us.”

“But . . . Daniel, no. You can’t leave. Your experiments . . . Your papers and drawings in your flat . . .”

Daniel wasn’t in the mood to worry about trivial things. “Simon stayed behind to box everything up and send it on. It’s more important to get you out of town.”

“I’m . . .” Violet wet her lips, looking from Cameron to Daniel. “I’m grateful. Thank you. How did you know where to find me?”

“Dad knows people,” Daniel growled. “But what the devil happened? And why was your mother hurrying off to save her own flesh, and your maid pushing her on, leaving
you
to take the blow?”

Violet shook her head. “Mary was right. Mother would never survive being arrested. If I had gotten away, we would have met elsewhere.”

“So you were the sacrificial lamb, were you?” Daniel asked. “What was your idea—divert their attention so your mum could get away?”

“Of course it was. My mother isn’t strong.”

“She seemed plenty fit sprinting down the street, leaving you in the dust. A mother
protects
her children, Vi. She doesn’t throw them to the wolves.”

Violet looked bewildered. “She didn’t. She doesn’t.”

“Then what the bloody hell do you call that? She took my help fast enough. As soon as your Mary convinced your mum she could trust me, your mum was in the coach without fear, urging me to get her away to the train. Leaving you to take the consequences.”

“It’s what we do,” Violet said, sounding patient, damn her. “If something happens, we scatter and meet in an appointed place. My mother was only following the plan.”

“When I told her you’d gone to jail, she was still ready to fly.” Daniel drew a breath to say more, but Cameron broke in.

“Leave it alone, Son.”

Daniel didn’t want to leave it alone, but he made himself close his mouth. He knew Cameron understood Daniel’s rage at a mother who would leave her child behind in danger. Daniel could pretend indifference about what his mother had done to him, but it had left scars.

Daniel balled his fists again and sat back in his seat. He wanted to strike out in disgust, but there was nothing to hit.

“Daniel’s not wrong,” Cameron said to Violet. “You don’t leave people you love to rot for you.”

Violet’s brows came down. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but neither of you have any idea what you’re talking about. We do what we have to do. It’s survival. Until you’ve had to live on your wits on the streets, please do not lecture me on how I or my mother should behave.”

Daniel was too angry to answer. Cameron pulled out a cigar and lit it. He leaned back, filling the coach with fragrant smoke. “I like her,” he said to Daniel, then continued to smoke in silence.

“I will pay for my railway ticket,” Violet said, her voice stiff. “All our tickets. If I am required to leave the country, we can part ways in Paris, and my mother and I will travel on someplace else, Bavaria perhaps. We’ll be all right then.”

“No,” Daniel said. “Mr. Bellec made it clear we are to make sure you remove yourself from France. The only way to do that is to watch over you all the way to England. So you’ll be coming with us to Berkshire, Vi, whether you like it or not. And I’m not letting you out of my sight until we get there.”

Berkshire. Daniel had to be mad. Violet’s stomach fluttered. She was still unbalanced by her arrest and confinement, not to mention Daniel’s abrupt rescue. Daniel was furious with her and with her mother, but he seemed to think nothing of cutting short his stay in Marseille to herd Violet out of it.

All too soon, Violet found herself boarding a train car, a private one hired by Lord Cameron. He’d taken the entire car, which had a little parlor and dining area in front and four tiny bedrooms in the back. It even had a bathroom.

Cameron and Daniel oversaw the loading of what little luggage they’d managed to bring. Ainsley’s servants and Mary settled their charges then left for the compartments Cameron had purchased for them. Mary looked startled that she’d have a compartment to herself, all without having to pay her own ticket.

Cameron took over one of the small dining tables in the private car and started leafing through racing newspapers in both English and French. A little girl with red gold hair placed a large plush horse on the table, climbed confidently into Cameron’s lap, and looked interestedly at the newspapers with him. Cameron absently hooked an arm around the girl’s waist and pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

Daniel didn’t speak to Violet at all. Ainsley, on one of the sofas, reached out a hand to her. “Come and sit with me, Violet, dear. You’ve had quite an ordeal.”

Celine had already taken a soft armchair by one of the windows, looking completely at home in the elegance. She fanned herself and let out a breath as the train jerked forward. “Yes, quite frightening. Poor Violet. Was it very awful?”

“A bit,” Violet said, sitting down next to Ainsley.

“I could not have stood a jail cell,” Celine said. “The aura would have been too much for me.”

“They didn’t put me in a cell, Mama. Just a room with a chair and table.”

Her mother looked relieved and disappointed at the same time. Violet knew Celine would have loved to hear horror stories about rats and squalid jail cells.

Ainsley’s look held sympathy. “Don’t worry, we will fill you both up with hot tea and plenty of cake. And then put you to bed. It’s early, but you must be tired.”

As the train gained speed, Marseille falling behind, several waiters wheeled in a cart loaded with food. Violet’s stomach rumbled as they set out breads and meats, cheese, tea, cakes, and—heaven—coffee.

Violet ate the cakes Ainsley shoved at her and gulped coffee. By the time her head ceased spinning and her stomach calmed down, they were well into the countryside.

Violet set down her coffee cup. “I am very grateful to you for helping us,” she said to Ainsley. “You are all impossibly kind. I intend to pay you back for the tickets.”

“Nonsense,” Ainsley said. “But we will speak of it later.”

Ainsley bent a glance at Daniel, who was seated at another table drinking coffee, his back to them. Violet knew Ainsley and Cameron had helped her for Daniel’s sake, no other reason.

She also knew Daniel was quite angry, and rightly so. Violet had many things to tell him, and he might be even angrier afterward. But she wouldn’t shy from it.

Ainsley sent Violet a shrewd look. She rose briskly, going to Celine. “Now, then, Madame, you are drooping and need to sleep. You too, Gavina. Come along. No, sweetheart, do not bother to argue.”

Gavina, who was seven, had started to protest, then caught the look in her mother’s eye and snapped her mouth shut. A child who had learned at a young age when not to argue.

Ainsley held out both hands, one for Violet’s mother and one for Gavina. She marched them through the door of the rocking car that led to the bedrooms. Cameron, in silence, pushed aside his tea leavings, rose, put a folded paper under his arm, and strolled casually out the front door of the car, heading for the main part of the train.

Leaving Violet alone with Daniel. Daniel went on drinking coffee, his silence heavy.

Violet rose from the sofa, picked up her empty cup, and went quietly to his table. She sat down opposite him and poured out another stream of coffee into her cup. Daniel watched her, not pretending to ignore her, but he still didn’t offer to speak.

“You saved me today, Daniel,” Violet said. “I know I can never repay you for it, but you saved my life. Monsieur Bellec was not going to let me go.”

Daniel had lifted his cup to drink but now he clattered it back to his saucer. “Damn it, Violet, stop talking about repayment. I don’t want any kind of payment from you.”

“I know you don’t. But you deserve to know some things about me.” Violet set down her coffee and twined her fingers together on the tabletop. If she clasped her hands hard enough, maybe they wouldn’t tremble.

Daniel waited, saying nothing.

“I was born Violet Devereaux. My father was a Frenchman, as I’ve told you. His family emigrated to England before he was born. We lived in South London—you guessed right about that—in a poor but respectable neighborhood. My mother learned when I was about eight that she had clairvoyance, or so she thought. She started out giving séances for friends then was hired by others to do them. She decided to go to Paris when she’d saved enough in fees to try our luck there. That’s where I met Jacobi, who taught me about how to give a memorable stage performance and sell more tickets. I’ve taken many names since then, all to sell tickets and keep us out of trouble.” Violet took a breath. “The name Violet Devereaux is the real one. But my married name is Violet Ferrand.”

Chapter 23

“Married name.” Daniel sat still, the words meaningless to his stunned brain. He felt the same as when she’d crashed the vase into his head.

“Yes.” It was a whisper, filled with shame and a little bit of defiance.

Daniel was on his feet, his realization returning.
“Married?”

“Yes.” Violet said again.

Daniel walked to the door that led out of the car then swung around and strode back, his temper rising with every step.

All the Mackenzies had berserker rage within them, inherited from generations of men fed up with people trying to kill them and steal their land. Daniel’s grandfather had used the rage to terrorize his family. Uncle Hart had used it to terrorize England. Uncle Ian’s anger had turned around and terrorized himself. Daniel felt the rage beat through his veins now—at Violet, at himself, at whoever had made her like this.

“Bloody hell, woman!” His Highland Scots erased every bit of English elocution ever drilled into him. “When were ye planning to tell me? Or were ye at all? If you’d gotten away from the police by yourself, I’d have never seen you again, would I? You would have run, just like ye did in London, just like ye’ve done time and again in the past, haven’t ye? Not bothering to tell Daniel, that poor blithering idiot, that ye’d gone!”

Violet’s face was stark white. “I
was
going to tell you. About both things. I promise. I planned to tell you all about the marriage at the inn if you took me there today. But the police arrived . . .”

“
If?
If
I took you to the inn?” Daniel slammed his hand to the table, making the coffee cups dance. “Did ye think I had no intention of doing that? Even though I’d said so? Did ye think I was playing with you?” His anger rose. “So you said, aye, ye’d like to go back to that cozy inn with me, looking happy about it, but all the time ye thought I was
lying
?”

“I didn’t think you lied,” Violet said, her words heating. “I thought you meant it at the time. But you might have forgotten or changed your mind. How was I to know?”

“Why the devil would I change my mind?”

Violet’s own temper sparked in her eyes. “Because you’re an aristocrat! You can afford to ride across France in a private train car and hang up a costly balloon in a tree and shrug about it. You can do anything you want, Daniel Mackenzie. Why should you bother telling the truth to me?”

“Well, you haven’t bothered much telling it to me!” He put his fists on the table. “But I’ve
never
lied to you, Vi. I’ve been nothing but honest. That’s my trouble, ye see. I’m painfully honest. I don’t like secrets, so I don’t keep them.” He straightened. “But let’s come back around to you being married. Where is the lucky fellow? Does he know you gad about the world and seduce hapless young men? Am I just another mark? You knew all about me and my family the minute I walked into your dining room in London. Did you look at me and decide I was ripe for the plucking?”

Violet flinched at his words, but Daniel didn’t feel like being kind. She’d played him, the same way she’d played Mortimer and all the other young men around the table that night. And Daniel, dazed by her beauty, had tumbled right on his ass.

Violet’s lips were bloodless. “You mean the moment I met you, was I supposed to hold out my hand and tell you my life story? How could I know my life story would even matter to you?”

“Would
matter
to me? Everything about you matters to me, Vi. What if I were fool enough to get on my knees and propose to you? Would you have mentioned the marriage then?”

“I told you—I planned to tell you tonight at the inn.” Violet’s eyes were filled with fury, but also tears. “I
am
telling you tonight. It took me a long time to gather the courage to say the words—I know you’ll probably toss me to the wind once you know everything, but I want to tell you. I’m trying to.”

“Don’t throw this back at me, love. I’ve been square with you from the moment I met you. And you’ve returned half-truths, lies, and evasion. Hell, you even dumped me in a cart when you couldn’t wake me up.”

Violet jumped to her feet, the cups clattering again as she jarred the table. “And
I
didn’t ask you to follow me across Europe, or to spring upon me in the theatre in the middle of my performance. I thought you’d want to stay far, far away from me.”

“A simple
You know, Daniel, I’m married
might have convinced me to.”

“I doubt it.” Violet’s eyes sparkled blue. “You take whatever you want, damn all who get in your way. You want to test your theory about flying, so you take my wind machine, you take your friend’s balloon, you fly it into a tree—but it’s all right, you’ll buy him a new one. We’re stuck in a storm, but it’s all right, you’ll charm the innkeepers into giving us the best room in their house. And a woman you want to bed is caught by the police, but no matter—you’ll get your father to call in favors and take her out.
Why?
” Violet balled her fists. “Why not leave me alone? If I’ve lied to you and evaded you, why the devil don’t you just
leave me alone
?”

Her words rang against the
clackity-clack
of the train as they sped into the heart of France. Violet looked so empty, so starved, that Daniel almost relented. But his temper wouldn’t let him.

“Why the devil should I leave you alone?” he shouted back. “You seem to like my company. You’ve had the power to send me away anytime—why didn’t you use it?”

“Power? I don’t have any power over you at all! You do as you bloody well please, no matter who doesn’t like it. Me, your friends, country innkeepers, your glittering courtesans . . .”

Violet broke off, snapping her mouth shut, as though she hadn’t meant to say the last.

“What glittering courtesans?” Daniel made a show of looking around the empty room. “I don’t see any glittering courtesans. Maybe they’re hiding under one of the sofas?”

“I
saw
you,” Violet said, her voice hard. “The night we got back from the country. You were with gentlemen friends outside a restaurant, and lady friends too. They were quite beautiful. They were covered with diamonds, which is why I call them glittering. Please, do not pretend you are anything but a wealthy aristo who has any sort of woman he wants—respectable and not-so-respectable—happily going from one to the other.”

Daniel’s confusion cleared. “Do you mean you saw me outside the bistro? My obnoxious friend Richard provided the female company that night. The glittering ladies went home with Richard and his cronies, and I went to my hotel to be interrogated by my precious little sister. I’d just been with
you
, Vi. I wasn’t interested in them.”

Violet stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. Daniel supposed the fashionable world would think it odd that, plied with the most expensive and willing ladies in Marseille, Daniel would ignore them for a struggling confidence trickster with beautiful blue eyes. But that was because they hadn’t met Violet.

“We’ll be discussing this lack of trust in me,” Daniel said. “Thoroughly. But I noticed ye’ve neatly turned the tables back to me being a complete bastard instead of talking about what we started out to. Tell me about this marriage. Every detail. Who is he?”

Violet’s bosom rose in the beaded gown, the costume she’d not yet had a chance to remove. “I married Jacobi. To save my reputation, he said.”

“Jacobi.” Daniel’s hatred for the man spun higher.

Violet wet her lips. “It is one reason I forgave him. I thought, at the time, he’d been as much of a victim as me. He made me a married woman, in name only, to protect me.” She stopped, and fresh pain filled her eyes. “And because I was pregnant.”

Dear God. Daniel’s rage drained swiftly away. Violet watched him with trepidation, waiting for him to turn her away as she feared. Daniel knew, realistically, that with any other man her fears might not be unfounded. He’d just have to convince her he wasn’t any other man.

“Was the father the man who took you as . . . payment?” The word tasted sour in Daniel’s mouth.

“Yes.”

She said it so calmly, but Violet wasn’t calm. Her hands trembled, and she couldn’t look directly at Daniel.

“Where is the child?” Daniel asked in a quiet voice.

Violet was silent for a long time, and when she raised her head, Daniel knew. Pain bored into his heart as though someone had stabbed him. “I never had the child. I miscarried.”

“Violet . . .”

Violet held up her hand, fingers stiffly spread. “No. Wait. I want to finish. I was onstage with my mother when it happened. She had no idea about any of this.” Violet smiled a little, that heartbreaking smile that made Daniel want to kill every person who’d ever hurt her. “I was too young and ignorant to understand what was wrong with me. A lady in the audience, a courtesan called Lady Amber, saw what was happening. She came backstage, took me away to her house, and got a doctor—a real doctor, a good one—to help me. The doctor saved me, but couldn’t save the child.”

Violet trailed off. The train’s wheels clacked into the silence, the train rushing along at a great speed toward Paris.

“I’m sorry, Violet,” Daniel said, not moving. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Perhaps it was for the best.” Violet got the words out, but her voice broke.

“No, not for the best. It’s never for the best. You tell yourself that so you can bear the hurting. My stepmum, she lost a babe that came from an unscrupulous man, but it grieved her all the same.”

Violet’s tears dropped to her cheeks. Daniel came to her, gently seated her on the sofa where she’d sat with Ainsley, and sat down with her.

“Tell me the rest, love.”

Violet looked up at him, her eyes wet. “There is no rest. Jacobi was kind to me, trying to make amends. But when he was in debt again, when he offered me again, as I told you, I packed our things and took my mother and Mary out of Paris. I never wanted to live through that again. I haven’t seen Jacobi from that day to this.”

Daniel let silence fall between them for a time. Her hurting was real, no more lies. “Was it a legal marriage?” he asked after a time. “You were very young. Are you certain?”

She nodded. “There was a priest, our names in the register, a license, witnesses. I’m fairly certain it was all legal. Whether Jacobi is alive or dead now, as I said, I have no idea. I might be a widow. I don’t know.”

“Have you never tried to find him? Obtain a divorce, or annulment?”

Violet shook her head. “I never wanted to see him again. I did keep an ear out for mention of him, but I never heard anything. And he never tried to find me.” Her shoulders slumped. “It didn’t matter to me. I had no intention of marrying anyone else, so the fact that I’d married wasn’t important.”

Not important.
Daniel had to stand up again. If he strangled Jacobi, not only would it feel good to his restless hands, he would set Violet free.

Daniel turned back to her. “It’s important to me, love. I’ll hunt down Jacobi, and if he’s still alive, I’ll shake an annulment out of him. If you haven’t seen him in years, the marriage might be null anyway. Abandonment or disappearance can dissolve it. Or Jacobi might have ended it so he could marry someone else.”

“He could have. I never had the opportunity or the money to bother with it. As I say, I wanted nothing to do with him. Ever.”

Daniel nodded. “Yes, you ran away. You’re good at that—running. How was it the police caught you this morning? I’d have thought you light on your feet.”

“I told you, I wanted them to catch me. My mother needed to get away.”

Daniel’s anger surged again. He went swiftly back to the sofa, leaned down, and planted his fists on either side of her. “You mean you sacrificed yourself for her, just as you sacrificed yourself for Jacobi, just as you sacrificed any chance at a normal marriage because he convinced you to. You sacrifice, and you run, and Violet,
you have got to stop.
”

“How can I?” Violet’s eyes held defeat. “What else is there?”

The defeat pierced Daniel to the heart. “I’m going to show you what else. I said so before—not that you believed me. Ye think me the frivolous Mr. Mackenzie, the flirt, the ne’er-do-well. Hell, I can barely
say
ne’er-do-well. But unfortunately for you, I’ve seen the true Violet. I’ve watched you leave your sacrificing, drudging flimflammery behind you and open yourself to the world. I’ve seen you spread your arms and scream out loud as the wind carried you. And I’m going to see that again. I plan to drag you out of yourself, sweetheart, whether you like it or not.”