Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) (21 page)

Every fiber in his body tensed against her offer. “I was named Wolford.” He switched from staring at the dancing firelight to staring into the glass of garnet liquid. “Wolford Archibald Gray. What a ridiculous moniker to saddle someone with.”

“But you were called Wolf at a young age, weren’t you?”

He nodded. “For as long as I can recall. I didn’t care much for Wolford from the very beginning. Or Wolfie—” Another flash of early childhood jolted him. An image of his lovely mother, all soft and sweet-smelling, tangled with the foul memory of a hand dangling limp over the edge of a bed.

Dark shadows pierced his brain and a chill skittered across his shoulders. Pain shot past the defenses he’d maintained so carefully. He squeezed his eyes shut as raw, primitive grief gripped him. “I’ve been lonely most of my life,” he stated flatly.

His sudden, bleak confession must have startled Martha, for she left her chair and began to pace. “It’s true you’ve spent many years alone and without ties, but that’s in the past.”

Wolf shrugged belligerently, but inside he knew she could be right. “Then tell me, where will I go from here once my mother’s murder is resolved?”

Martha came to a halt before him. “You have the perfect woman with which to start a family. She is resilient, intelligent—”

Wolf threw his head back and sucked in his breath. “I don’t know
how
to be part of a family.” He rubbed at his wounded side to try to ease the contracting, stinging muscles. “Her parents despise me, and I find them disgusting. It wouldn’t be fair to Alanna to put her in the middle of a mess like that. There’s not a shred of hope for a decent family life with the Malones involved.”

“Do you love her?” Martha’s demeanor became regal, demanding the truth from her subject.

Wolf grew guarded again. Love was only a memory. “How do you suggest I handle things if it was her father who ordered me killed? Or her mother who instigated the deed?”

“Do you
love
her?”

He fought a terrible tightness in his chest. “Love isn’t some magical potion that solves all problems. The only way I could enhance Alanna’s life is to stay the hell out of it.”

“Like your father stayed out of yours? Aren’t you tired of living like a so-called feather in the wind?” Her barbed question hooked the rest of his reserves.

His jaw clenched. He drew in a ragged breath and paused, not trusting his own voice. “It’s a wonder I ever managed to make it this far in life.” He swallowed an ache of defeat.

Martha reached out and smoothed the collar on his shirt. “Oh, Wolf.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “Don’t try to make decisions now. You’re much too weak, too confused, and you’ve been through so very much.”

Looking utterly miserable, Martha straightened her spine, dignity returning. “I warn you, whatever you do right now,
do not
throw Alanna away. Shall we have another glass of wine?”

Wolf poured as Martha went to the window and peered down at the blackened drive. “Where do you suppose the captain is all this while? It’s grown quite dark, hasn’t it?”

“Probably convincing the Malones to let Alanna keep the pup,” Wolf said dryly. “Or trying to peel Little Mary’s hands off the poor thing.”

She laughed softly. “Don’t you think Alanna’s parents might suspect today isn’t the only day their daughter has been here of late?”

Wolf shook his head. “Old Chinese is about as crafty as they come. I think her coming and going was well protected.”

They both turned their heads when the brisk cadence of footsteps echoed down the hall. Thompson strode into the room with a grim set to his mouth. “You were seen at the wharf with my daughter this morning buying that dog.”

Wolf jerked. “Christ!”

“What the hell were you thinking? And how did you get there and back in your condition?”

Wolf stood. “I used the enclosed sleigh you had at the ready. No one else was in Higginson’s store when I picked up the pup. I was in and out in minutes, had the sleigh back before you finished your morning paper. Who would have spotted me?”

Thompson swiped a hand over his face. “It could have been Higginson reporting your whereabouts—who knows? Spotting you isn’t too difficult—you still look like someone waged a war on your face. We can’t do much about the fool thing you did, but we can get you out of here, and we need to do so immediately.”

Martha’s hand went to her throat. “This is Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake. Can’t it wait until after tomorrow?”

Thompson shook his head. “We are due in church in two hours, Martha, which is when things could get messy around here with Wolf home alone. If you value his life, we need to leave with no sign of his ever having been here.”

 

“Out of my house, you wretched beast!” Alanna’s mother bellowed.

At the dog’s yip, Alanna halted a brushstroke midway through her hair. The ball of fur scampered down the hall, a blue slipper clutched between its teeth.

Alanna rounded the corner into her mother’s bedchamber just in time to catch a flash of wide hip swathed in blue silk disappear behind the door. Alanna wedged in a foot. Grunts and scuffling sounded from both sides of the door. “Open up, Mother.”

Old Chinese and Winston charged down the hall from opposite directions and halted as Alanna thrust open the door and stalked inside. She shot a glance at the two men behind her. Their mischievous looks melted into stoic resolve.

Her mother stood with her arms folded over her chest and one foot tapping on the floor. “You are in so much trouble when your father gets home, young lady.”

Alanna seethed. “That is the
last
time you
ever
touch my dog.”

“Then get it out of here this minute.”

“You’ve never liked him from the minute you laid eyes on him, Mother. Is it really because he chews your slippers or wets the floor on occasion?”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “That dog and your whining around here, and slipping over to the Thompsons’ every chance you get are one and the same—and you know it.”

Alanna grew suddenly tired of pretending patience while everyone else directed her life. The dog was her link to Wolf, and she’d be damned if her mother would abuse it.

The strange silence as the two women regarded one another brought Old Chinese farther into the room. Winston remained by the door.

“That despicable beast came from that
vulgar
man, and you know it.”

Alanna paused for a moment and let her mother’s words sink in. She could have sworn Old Chinese stiffened. “Where did you get that idea, Mother?”

“You stay away from him. You are a woman engaged to be married, and you had better act accordingly.”

Alanna stared her mother down. “You did not answer my question. What makes you think the dog came from Mr. Wolf?”

Her mother threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “Enough of this nonsense. He was seen with Little Mary Thompson at Higginson’s the day before your birthday. He purchased the very mongrel that wets all over my expensive carpets.”

“Who saw him? You?”

“Oh, don’t bother me with such nonsense.” She waved Alanna off and stomped to the other side of the room. “He was seen at Higginson’s looking as though he’d been rescued from the gates of Hades. Visit the Corner Bookstore for the latest gossip if you don’t believe me.”

A chill slithered down Alanna’s spine. “And are you disappointed he didn’t make it through those gates, Mother? Did the little scheme you and Jonathan cooked up fail to get rid of him?”

Her mother whirled around. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“With
what
?” Alanna’s anger fueled the fire in her veins. “Tell me. What is it you had nothing to do with?”

Her mother’s lips thinned. “Stay away from that no-account. You are set to marry Jonathan, and that is that. If you do anything to ruin your chances—”

“
My
chances,” Alanna interrupted. “You mean
your
chances, don’t you? And tell me, how might I bring ruin upon you and Father by refusing to stay away from Mr. Wolf? Loss of chastity, perhaps? Are you telling me you and Father want me pure for a man who regularly visits brothels with his future father-in-law?”

Blood drained from her mother’s face.

Alanna’s eyes shot wide as she came forward. “You know all about Jonathan and Father’s visits to—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Every man does that.”

“Not
every
man, Mother.”

With a flip of her hand, her mother dismissed Alanna’s objection. “You had better get over the notion of marrying a faithful man. Men don’t love like you read about in those silly books of yours.”

She wriggled a finger in front of Alanna’s face. “All that border ruffian wants is the thrill of the hunt and the exhilaration of stealing your innocence.” The volume of her voice rose. “Let that man near you and he’ll leave you in ruins. No respectable man would have you after that gutter snipe finished with you. Why, your father would disinherit you, as well. What would you do then, go up to Lowell and work in the factories? In light of all that, does Jonathan Hemenway seem like such an ill choice, after all?”

Alanna’s stomach roiled at her mother’s words. “Jonathan disgusts me. You ask me to tolerate such a vile creature in order to have some grand home that a bunch of starched corsets can wander through bleating, ‘oh, how wonderful for you’?”

A cruel smile tipped the corners of her mother’s mouth. “I saw the way that man leered at you aboard ship. Surely even you aren’t naive enough to think you are the only woman he’s ever found excuse to flirt with so outrageously?”

Inwardly, Alanna shuddered at the idea.

Her mother read Alanna’s thoughts precisely and shot her a wicked grin. “You wretched imbecile. Once he’d had his fill of you, you would
never
set eyes on him again. That is, unless you were to see him in the eyes of some bastard he’d settled you with.”

Alanna’s mind reeled as she struggled for inner balance. “You are quite right about him in one regard, Mother. No one evokes the feelings inside me that he does. That’s what frightens you, isn’t it? Because if I were to join up with such a man, you’d lose your place at the top rung of society’s ladder. Oh, what a pity, Mother. Here you’ve been climbing Boston’s ladder of success, dragging me with you, when all the while, the blasted thing’s been tilted against the wrong wall.”

Her mother stood stiff. Nonetheless, her jaw twitched. “What you speak of is pure theater, pure Shakespeare.”

“Oh?” Alanna’s hand was on her hip now, the other still shaking the brush. “And what about bringing disgrace to the most
respected
Mr. Hemenway Senior? Why, in the good Lord’s name, would you even want me connected with him?”

“What are you getting at?” Apprehension settled in her mother’s plump face.

“That little story you told Mr. Wolf aboard ship about the murder when I was born? You mentioned something you’ve never said before in all your years of repeating that morose tale—you said the dead woman’s hair had been cut off.”

Her mother gasped.

“You know full well who did that terrible deed, yet you are still willing to marry me into that awful family. Aren’t you afraid Mr. Hemenway will do the same to me as he did to that woman? Why, he cut off his own daughter’s hair!”

“You know nothing of what you speak! You were only fourteen at the time Sarah’s hair was cut off. And that was a long while after that murder took place. You can’t possibly know if it was the same man.”

Bile rose in Alanna’s throat. “I think I do.”

Her mother swung around to Old Chinese. “Get her out of here. I order you to take her to the farm at once.”

Old Chinese inclined his head in deference.

She swung back to Alanna, who stood there stunned, disbelieving her good luck. “You heard me. Old Chinese is to take you with him this very minute.”

Barely slowing her turn, Alanna’s mother faced Old Chinese once again. “And unless her father instructs you otherwise, my daughter is to remain with you until just prior to her wedding.”

With barely a blink, Old Chinese signaled Alanna to stretch out her resistance. He moved forward as Winston slipped into place in the doorway.

Alanna had to remain angry, but oh, what good fortune! She forced a scowl. “Don’t think to order me from my home like I’m some kind of prisoner.”

Old Chinese extended his hand toward Alanna. “It would be best for all concerned if you would come with me directly, Miss Malone.”

Her mother gave a victorious nod and set her jaw. “You have lost the right to participate in your own wedding preparations.” She turned to Old Chinese. “Do not, under any circumstances, return her to Boston until her father says otherwise. Do you understand?”

“As you wish, Mrs. Malone.” Old Chinese grasped Alanna by the wrist and, with a hard yank, pulled her solemnly toward the door.

 

 

Wolf stood in front of the barn’s windows, watching as Winston directed the sleigh that had carried Wolf from the Thompsons’ on Christmas Eve into the porte cochère of the mansion. He brought the horses to a crisp halt at the front doors.

Winston opened the carriage door and a white ball of fur, looking like a small polar bear, tumbled from the sleigh. The uncoordinated pup scrambled to its feet, then splayed all four legs on the ice as it tried to gain purchase with ungainly, oversized paws. Alanna, in a red cloak, stepped elegantly from the carriage and grasped Winston’s arm, and together they watched the animal’s antics. Wolf swore that even from such a distance, he could hear her throaty laughter.

A strange frustration churned in Wolf’s gut. It was impossible for him to stand still, and so he swore and paced, his eyes riveted on the couple all the while. Winston gathered Alanna’s luggage and headed for the main house with her by his side.

“What the hell?” Did she intend to bunk in there with thirty men? Wolf stood at the window like a wild horse tethered and straining at the bit.

His pallet still lay unmade, as it had since the day prior. It was enough that Old Chinese had left him to read the sacred esoteric books on the art of loving, but to think that all of the students received such a handbook—including Alanna—and then to watch her march into the student housing on Winston’s arm? This was more than Wolf could endure.

Old Chinese trudged up the stairs, a packet of Wolf’s mail in his hand. “Here are your letters and yes on both accounts.” He slapped the packet into Wolf’s outstretched hand, and then shuffled to the window.

Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “What ‘yes on both accounts’ are you talking about?”

Old Chinese rubbed his belly and peered at the manor house. “I am hungry. Unfortunately, my pork is not quite done, so they have cooked chicken, as well.” He grinned, strolled to his corner of the room, and plopped down on the pallet. He lifted his favorite mug. “I’m in need of ale, if you please.”

“Christ, I’d have better luck planting dragon’s teeth than getting you to talk.” Wolf grabbed the mug, thundered over to the keg, and gave the spigot a yank.

“The first yes is, indeed, she has decided to reside in the student housing. Since you were so reluctant to speak to her at the end of your stay at the Thompsons’, she has it in her mind she would be more comfortable there. And the second yes is that she has studied the very books lying open on your bed. It is required of all my students.”

“Are you telling me you will actually allow her to move in with thirty men, all of whom have read the same damn descriptions of—?”

“I have no say in the matter.”

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” Wolf roared. He watched as Winston and Alanna emerged from the main house, the dog slipping and sliding behind them. He flashed an ominous glance at Old Chinese, then looked back at the couple walking the pup. “Don’t tell me she intends to room with Winston?”

Old Chinese shrugged. “I do not know. I do not care.”

Wolf paced between the pallet and the window. “Has she ever stayed in there before?”

“No.”

He grew more exasperated by the moment. “And Winston? You trust Winston?”

“Yes. Another ale, please.”

“You trust that overgrown—” Wolf snatched the mug from the old man’s hand and flipped around. “What is he, a eunuch or something?” Wolf bellowed over his shoulder while he filled the mug. In long, impatient strides, he returned to Old Chinese, staring out the window as he went. “Winston may be deaf, but he’s not blind. And neither am I. He watches her all the time.”

“He watches her because he feels it is his family duty,” Old Chinese answered, in the same unaffected voice he would have used to give Wolf the time of day. “Winston is her brother.”

“Huh?” Wolf’s equilibrium rocked and his head buzzed. He made his way back to the pallet.

“Same father, different mothers,” Old Chinese volunteered, sipping his ale. His obsidian eyes drilled into Wolf’s depths.

“Does Alanna know?” Wolf’s voice was little more than a ragged whisper.

Old Chinese shook his head and sucked foam off the draft.

“Why not?”

“Not the right time for her to know.” Old Chinese’s tone said,
No further questions.

Wolf stomped back to the window. The coziness of the couple playing with the dog took on an entirely different perspective as his mind retraced his past observations.

Old Chinese sat quietly on the floor regarding Wolf and sipping contentedly. A mysterious look descended upon him like night mists floating over a slow-moving river.

“Is he about my age?” In his peripheral vision, Wolf caught three fingers held in the air. “Thirty-three?”

The old man nodded.

“Was he born in Europe then?”

Another slight nod.

“Was he born deaf?”

“No. It happened when he sickened with a high fever around the age of two. The mother was going to toss the little man aside, so I took him in.”

“Jeezus!” Wolf turned to Old Chinese.

Old Chinese raised his hand. “You had no way of knowing. It pleases this old heart to know you perceived a close tie between the two. It means I have done my job.”

“What about Malone?”

Old Chinese shrugged. “He didn’t want the boy around, but those were my terms if I was to agree to accompany the family to America.”

“He lived with you at the Malones’ home?” Wolf frowned at the man’s perfunctory nod. “But what of Mrs. Malone?”