Free Rule's Bride by Kat Martin

up, it wasn’t Jeffrey’s face she saw but the solid jaw and beautiful blue eyes of the man she had married.
    A man who wanted nothing but the use of her body and her father’s armaments factory.
    She steeled herself and eased a little away.
    â€œYou’re a very good dancer,” Rule said as the waltz came to a close.
    â€œAm I? I thought it was you.”
    He smiled. “Perhaps it was the two of us dancing together.”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    â€œThere is a theory that a man and woman who dance well together, make love well together.”
    Her cheeks colored. “I—I wouldn’t know.” But an odd sensation filtered into her stomach.
    â€œWe are married. Perhaps we should test the theory.”
    Violet shook her head, though deep down she couldn’t deny the tiny thread of interest the notion stirred.
    Making love with Rule Dewar. She had been fascinated with the man’s incredible good looks and charm from the moment she had met him. If things were different, if there were no strings attached and she and Jeffrey didn’t already have an understanding, she might be tempted to try it.
    â€œI hear congratulations are in order.”
    Violet looked up to see a dark-haired, handsome man nearly as tall as Rule striding toward them.
    â€œThey are, indeed. It’s good to see you back in Society.” Rule smiled down at her. “Violet, this is Benjamin Wyndam, Earl of Nightingale. He’s the previous owner of what was formerly Hawksworth Munitions and is now Griffin Manufacturing. The man from whom your father purchased the plant.”
    â€œYes, I remember hearing your name. Lovely to meet you, my lord.” Inwardly, Violet smiled, beginning to get the hang of using the ridiculous British titles.
    â€œYou, as well, my lady.” Nightingale smiled at her softly and she noticed a sadness in his eyes that seemed deep and abiding. “I lost my wife two years ago. I hope you and Rule are as happy as Maryann and I once were.”
    And clearly he grieved for her still. “I am sorry, my lord. And thank you for your kind wishes.” What else could she say? The earl had obviously loved his wife. If only Rule could—
    She broke off the thought. Rule wasn’t the sort to fall in love. Their marriage was no more than a business arrangement. If she wanted a husband who loved her, she would have to marry Jeffrey.
    Violet frowned, disliking the way the thought had come out. She didn’t have to marry Jeffrey. She wanted to.
    It was simply that he was so far away.
    Another man walked up just then. He was perhaps forty, beginning to lose his hair and had eyes that seemed to miss nothing. “So this is your lovely bride. Your marriage seems the only interesting bit of gossip I’ve heard all evening. Your wife is quite a lovely surprise, my lord.”
    â€œThank you,” Rule said somewhat stiffly. “Violet, this is Burton Stanfield. Over the years we’ve had some business dealings together.”
    â€œThat is correct. And a few weeks back I tendered an offer to buy Griffin Manufacturing. Unfortunately, his lordship turned it down.”
    A buyer for the company! Exactly what she needed. But Rule had refused the offer. The information nettled, considering how much she wanted to sell. At home, trouble was brewing in the Northern and Southern states, the country fiercely divided over the issue of slavery. Violet had friends on both sides, people she cared about. She didn’t want to be in the business of making the weapons that might be used to kill them.
    Still, Rule had done a good job managing Griffin so far. He might have had good reason for turning the man down.
    Violet focused on Stanfield. “Perhaps your offer wasn’t high enough. With the tensions growing between the states in America, there is already increased demand for weapons. I should think that would make Griffin worth a good deal of money.”
    Burton