“It doesn’t matter.Family comes first.”Dutch grabbed the back of Tavish’s neck, squeezing.“I’ll always come hunt you down.Now get out of here.I’ll handle the blow out.”
Nodding, Tavish walked away, ignoring the uproar of the crowd and The Butcher’s insistent shouting.“You fucking coward!Get back here!Where do you think you’re going?I’ll find you Leprechaun, and when I do, you’re a fucking dead man!”
CHAPTER TWO
London,Two Weeks Later
Florentia Evelyn Vaughn was not a nice person.In fact, she absolutely loathed nice people.No one had ever been nice to her.Not her mother, which was strange because everything she had ever learned about mothers was that they were exceptionally kind to their children.But that was never the case with her own mother.Maria Vaughn, Lady Allendale, was a cruel unloving wretch of a mother.It was no wonder that Florentia had never once in her life shown another person kindness.After all, she’d never received it from the one person who was required to love her beyond measure.
She escaped the clutches of her mother by marrying a man old enough to be her grandfather.Foolishly, Florentia thought that he would be kind to her.However, the Duke of Summerset was a miserable old bastard whose only goal in life was to procreate an heir so that his estranged relatives would not inherit his beloved dukedom.That did not work out for him in the end as he perished not seven months earlier, leaving Florentia a widow at the ripe age of two and twenty, and his cousin’s brute of a son was now the new duke.
Her mother and dead husband weren’t the only reasons she was never kind to anyone; it was simple really, no one had ever earned her kindness.No one except perhaps her only friend, Charity, Lady Woodmere.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Reeves Montague said from behind Florentia.
Turning away from the underwhelming view of her parent’s small garden, Florentia stared everywhere but at the fetching man in front of her.
The library in her parent’s London’s townhouse had long been a place of refuge for her.It was the only place her mother would never enter.She’d often complained about the smell of books and dust that surrounded the comforting place.
As a girl, Florentia spent hours hidden between the tall mahogany shelves reading gothic novels and falling in love with monsters.Only to her, they were never monsters but companions in the dark.
Inhaling deeply, she turned her gaze to the untitled man lying lazily on the green chaise lounge.He was exceptionally handsome, with light brown hair and brown eyes.His boyish good looks and easy smile were one of the reasons she’d readily flirted with him, that and the fact that he had nothing to offer her.There was no title in need of an heir, no struggling estate in need of a fortune.Not that she had one anymore.
Florentia had lost everything to her husband, as was the custom for women.Still, she’d foolishly hoped that her parents would have insisted her husband arrange a sizeable widow’s portion for her.They had not.
It didn’t matter.She was not in want of a husband.Florentia didn’t care that she had nothing beyond a mere two hundred pounds a year.She was allowed to stay in her late husband’s townhouse until the new heir was located.It had become her home, her refuge.
The new heir was still missing.Last report were that he was in Scotland competing for a bare-knuckle championship of all things.If he never returned to claim the dukedom, that would be more than fine with her.
Love was not a word that was readily available to her, nor had she experienced any such emotion in her life.In fact, Florentia couldn’t stomach to see those so absurdly blessed with love and devotion.Women like the Duchess of St.Clara and the Marchioness of Heartford.Those happy women all had men who sickly adored them.All Florentia ever had was a hateful mother, a father petrified in his own home, and a husband she’d rather not think of at all since his death.
“Did you hear me?I’m in love with you.”Montague stood, tripping over his feet to get to her.“I would very much like to marry you, Florentia.”
Oh dear, this was tragic.
She inhaled deeply, trying to remain calm and not injure his pride.This was her fault after all.She had no right to flirt with him, to let him believe that she could actually care for anyone other than herself.
As the fifth son of a duke, the poor thing had no prospects, no hope of ever inheriting.Of course, he would propose marriage to the first woman who had given him attention.
“Montague, be reasonable.I cannot marry you.I am just out of mourning.”Twirling the two strands of hair that framed her face, Florentia turned to face the window, perusing her appearance.
She’d come into the library for a brief respite from her mother and her stifling guest when Montague had followed her.It was her mother’s first party of the Season, a small musicale Florentia had been forced to attend.
She had slept with Montague once.It was foolish and done to quiet her curiosity.He was extremely handsome to be sure, but his performance was less than satisfactory.
It wasn’t that he was a terrible lover, more that he treated her like she would break, which was ridiculous.Florentia didn’t want gentle and caring in a bed partner, or so she believed, but as her previous lovers had been her husband and two servants who treated her equally delicately, she had nothing to compare it to.
“Now that you are out of mourning, we could marry.”Montague grasped her hands in his, holding them as if they were the answer to his prayers.“I’ll wait forever to be yours.”
Bloody hell.
A shudder ran up her spine.She’d had enough of his particular brand of nonsense.She wasn’t going to marry him now or ever.In fact, if Florentia had anything to say about her future, she’d never marry again.
Men were selfish, self-centered rodents all using women for their own needs, and she was done with it.
“There will be no need for that.”She removed her hands from his grip.“You could wait a thousand years, and I still would not marry you, Montague.”
Without another glance at the lovesick fool, she turned and walked toward the large wooden door that had hidden her from her mother’s fiery temper as a girl.
