Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) (17 page)

He turned back to the books, making certain that everything balanced.
 
At least Glandingham was not a thief.
 
He opened the membership book.
 
He read over the names.
 
They had agreed that the women would not have to sign their names, remaining anonymous.
 
The men, however, were not so lucky.
 
As he turned the page, he noticed a torn piece of paper peeking out of the binding of the book.
 
Using a great deal of patience, he gently worked the ripped edge free and studied it.
 
He had not removed a page and the only other person that had access to it was Glandingham.
 

Wulfe looked at the other sheets.
 
Each sheet was filled only on one side.
 
There were approximately fifteen names on each sheet of paper.
 
He could not be sure as to what entry dates were missing.
 
It looked like someone had very carefully altered the information making it seem as if nothing was amiss.
 
Glandingham’s impatient nature would not allow him to spend the time it would take to make those types of changes.
 
No, he had a partner.
 
Perhaps several.
 
There was a name or names on that page that they did not want connected to the
Lady Luck
.

He carefully studied the rest of the pages in the book, but could not find anymore that had been torn from it.
 
But he did find the book lacking the names of the two gentlemen he had met the other night—Dashiel and Eason.
 
Who else was it missing?
 
Were those men part of whatever game it was that Glandingham was playing?
 

The large clock in the gaming room chimed the hour.
 
They were open for another round of gaming.
 
He could hear the murmur of voices as the people began to fill the large room down the hall.
 
Standing, he tucked the piece of paper into the pocket of his weskit.
 
He locked both journals in the safe, straightened his clothing, and prepared himself to play host for the next little while.
 

He and Glandingham had been ships passing in the night the last week, going out of their way to avoid one another.
 
Wulfe had been relieved, but his luck had run out tonight.
 
Thorn walked to the front of the gaming hell, watching men sign into the new book when Glandingham crossed the threshold.
 
Always attempting to be larger than life, Glandingham walked in loud and boisterous.
 
Upon spying Thorn he crossed to him.
 

“Not bad having a line waiting to come in, eh, old man?”

“Not bad at all,” Thorn agreed.

“What happened to you?” the older man queried upon spying Wulfe’s healing black eye.

“Pickpocket,” Thorn murmured.

“I hope the other man looks worse.”

“I’m going to make the rounds,” Wulfe replied, leaving his partner behind.
 
He lost himself in the business of running the gaming house.

The house was dark when Thorn arrived home.
 
There were a few carriages and horses still traveling, delivering people to their residences after a night of revelry.
 
He let himself into the house and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
 
He lit a lantern so that he could prepare for bed.
 
He was exhausted.
 
Tonight had been difficult on his nerves as he continuously searched the room and attempted to keep up with Glandingham’s every move.
 
Thorn dropped to the edge of his bed and flopped back, hearing the crunch of paper beneath him.
 
He resembled a contortionist as he tried to reach for it.
 
Successful, he pulled it around and read the envelope.
 
Wulfe
.
 
The script was simple, yet feminine.
 
He ripped it open and pulled out the letter.

Gertie is having a dinner party tomorrow.
 
We have been invited.
 
I have attempted to send our regrets but she will not hear of it.
 
Please do not embarrass me again.
 
We must be there by 7 o’clock.
 
R

She had very little faith in him.
 
Did she always think he was going to embarrass her?
 
He had done an excellent job on first meeting Rebekah’s cousin.
 
Damn Aimée and her machinations.
 
He vowed he would not embarrass her again.
 
If she wanted him to attend a supper, he would attend and be on his best behavior.

***

Thorn woke with the late afternoon sun and children’s shrieks of laughter streaming through the window of his bedroom.
 
He stretched, easing his muscles into wakefulness and found that he enjoyed the sound.
 
Not what one would expect of a former dedicated bachelor who had never been without a mistress to keep him occupied.
 
He groaned as the thought of setting aside Aimée brought to mind his very cantankerous wife.

He found himself playing their confrontation in the study over in his mind again.
 
Somehow she had learned to defend herself, but why had she ever felt the need?
 
What had happened to her to make her feel she had to defend herself against men?
 
Someone had physically attacked her once.
 
Had it occurred more often?
 
When he found out who was responsible, he would destroy the man that had harmed her.
 
Deciding nothing could be accomplished lazing about in bed, he stood and readied himself for an afternoon spent at home.

Never one to conform with society, he merely pulled on his pantaloons and a shirt before slipping on stockings and tugging on his boots.
 
He imagined he would shock his ever proper wife going beyond the door of his bedroom without a weskit, cravat, and coat.
 
Thorn merely smirked at the idea.
 
His stomach growled loudly and he left the house by way of the kitchen, asking Cook to fix something light for him.
 
He exited through the kitchen door and entered the garden attached to the house.
 
The twins were chasing one another to and fro.
 
They always seemed to have a boundless amount of energy.

“Uncle Thorn!” Zachary yelled and ran headfirst into Thorn.
 
Wulfe grabbed the youngster and playfully tossed him in the air, making him giggle.

“Don’t…” Rebekah cautioned, standing quickly.

“I’m not going to drop him,” Wulfe attempted to reassure her.

“Me, too!” Ivy demanded.

“Ladies do not participate in that type of activity, Ivy,” Rebekah reprimanded the little girl.

“I’m not a lady.
 
I’m Ivy Rose,” she crossed her arms and looked ready to take on her headstrong aunt.

“So you are,” Thorn growled as he put Zachary safely on the ground and picked up Ivy and tossed her as he had her brother.
 
Ivy squealed in delight, begging him not to stop.
 
He spent the next few minutes alternating between which sibling he sent flying through the air or spinning in a circle.
 
When a maid arrived with his requested food, he called a halt to their game.
 
“I beg you, no more,” he collapsed into a chair.

“Please, Uncle Thorn,” a child stood at each side of his leg and patted a knee, jumping up and down.

“Let your uncle eat.
 
I think I spied a rabbit over in the garden a few moments ago.”

“I’ll find it!” Zachary yelled.

“Wait for me!” Ivy called after him.

“A rabbit?
 
In London?”

“It could very well happen.
 
Besides, it gave you a reprieve, did it not?”

“Thank you,” he bowed.

When she looked up at him, he gave her his most charming grin, the very one that made her knees weak and her stomach flip.
 
Realizing she was staring, she turned her attention back to the children.
 
“Be careful of the plants or Cook will be after you, and I will let her,” she called out to the twins.

“You are good at that.”

“What?”

“Mothering the children.”

“I have had some practice.”

“I’m sorry I did not make it to Sarah’s funeral.
 
I could not get away.”

“Yes, you were busy running your gaming hell and destroying your family’s good name.”

“Bekah, there are things you don’t understand.
 
Things that I cannot share with you.”

“I neither care nor want to know.
 
You had just better not bring any danger to this family, do you understand?”

“You need not worry about that,” he answered, pushing away thoughts of the carriage accident.
 
If Rebekah suspected it had not been an accident, she would take the children back to the country as soon as possible and he would have no way of protecting them.
 
No, he could not let her know anything.
 
He poured her a cup of tea and pushed it in her direction.
 
Thorn watched her add cream and sugar before stirring methodically.
 
“What are you wearing to the dinner party this evening?”

“I’m sure I have something appropriate in my wardrobe.”

“Most women would be upstairs all day preparing for their first dinner party.”

“It is only dinner with a very dear cousin and some extended family.
 
I expect they will accept me regardless of how I arrive.”

“I’m certain you are right,” Thorn replied knowing when to cut his losses.
 

They spent the remainder of their time together in silence watching the children chase an imaginary rabbit.
 
After finishing his light repast, Thorn left.
 
Rebekah found herself alone.
 
When he disappeared into the house she felt herself deflate with relief.
 
She cursed herself for letting the man affect her as he did.
 
“Zachary, Ivy, come with me.
 
You have to take a nap before you can go this evening.”

“Not tired,” Ivy yawned.

“Me neither,” Zachary argued.

“Do you want to meet the other children?”
 
She waited until both children nodded.
 
“Then you will be having a nap whether you believe you need one or not.”
 
Rebekah escorted the children upstairs and helped them slip off their shoes and clothes until they were in their underclothes.
 
They crawled onto their respective beds and were asleep before she could close the door.
 
She caught a maid in the hall and asked her to make sure she awakened by a certain time, then turned to her room to take a nap as well.

***

Knocking on her door awakened her.
 
She stretched as she called, “Who is it?”

“Mary, ma’am.
 
You asked me to wake you.”

She stood, padded across the room, and opened the door.
 
“Thank you, Mary.
 
I hate to ask this, but could you get one of the others to help you get the children ready?
 
I’ll be up as soon as I am dressed myself.”

“Of course, ma’am.
 
What should we dress them in?”

“I have already laid out their clothes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”
 
She shut the door and turned to see something she had missed moments before.
 
A beautiful aquamarine gown hung from the wardrobe.
 
There was a matching pelisse and slippers.
 
Rebekah quickly opened the door, “Mary.”

“Yes, ma’am?” the maid queried from the down the hall.

“Where did this dress come from?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.
 
A delivery man brought it and we were instructed to hang it up so it wouldn’t wrinkle.
 
There is a note on your escritoire.”

“Thank you.”
 
She closed the door and crossed the room.
 
If this were from Thorn she would rip it up in front of him.
 
Her hand shook as she reached for the note.
 

Welcome to London. G

The air whooshed from her lungs.
 
Gertie was always so thoughtful.
 
Why did she feel disappointment that Thorn had not sent it?
 
Pushing back the wayward thoughts, she turned once more to the dress and accessories.
 
Upon closer inspection, there was even a pair of elegant, supple kid gloves.
 
Feeling excited for the first time about the dinner party, she began to get ready.
 
Used to seeing to her own needs for so many years, she easily coiled her brown tresses into a loose knot with tendrils escaping here and there.
 
She slipped out of her old dress and into the new one.
 
The material caressed her skin and in the fading light of day it picked up different shades of blues and greens, complimenting her eyes.
 
Rebekah worked her feet into the slippers, pleased when they fit perfectly.