The Ravencliff Bride (32 page)

“To make short of it, I felt the transformation coming on. I couldn’t go back to Sara, and I couldn’t stay with the body, either. It would have happened before the staff, they were nearly upon me. I ran up the back stairs, and got here just in time.”

“So that’s what put you in such a taking. My lord, in all these years—”

“I was aroused. Then the shock of Nell, and the fear of Sara welcoming that bastard into her suite, thinking it was me . . . I believe I did go mad, Mills. Then it got worse.”

“But, where have you been all this while, my lord? The guards have come and gone, and they are coming back to seek out the animal and kill it.”

“Good!” Nicholas flashed. “Let them kill it, because if they don’t, I will.”

“But what if it’s
you
they kill? If you transform again here now, it will be your last.”

“I shall make every effort not to,” said Nicholas. “But as things are, I can promise nothing.”

“We searched everywhere for you, my lord—
everywhere!
”

“Not quite everywhere, old boy,” Nicholas returned. “After Nero broke out of here, he ran to the green suite. The brouhaha was over, and fearing I would be shot on sight, her ladyship made a tether of this sash”—he slapped at it—”and shut me in the alcove chamber below. The timber there that forms the door is more than a foot thick. Nero had chewed halfway through it, when she came below just now with the other wolf in tow. We fought, and at the end of it, Alex’s wolf ran off, and I changed right before her eyes. There was no
way to prevent it, Mills, and when it happened, she dropped like a stone.”

Mills heaved a ragged sigh. “What will you ever tell her, my lord?” he breathed.

“That is exactly what I would like to know,” said a voice from the bedroom doorway that spun them both around.

It was Sara.

“Leave us, Mills,” said Nicholas, not taking his eyes from hers. Why couldn’t he read that look?

“Very good, my lord,” said the valet, bowing as he left.

“Sit down, Sara,” Nicholas said, sweeping his arm toward the horsehair lounge.

“I think that I shall,” she replied, making her way to it—on unsteady legs, he noted, and why not? She’d just witnessed her beloved pet change into her naked husband.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“A mild understatement, I daresay,” she said with a humorless chuckle. “Where is Nero? And where did that other dog come from? Tell me I didn’t see what I think I saw down there just now.”

“Not a dog,” said Nicholas. “It was a wolf . . . the wolf that killed Nell. He just tried to kill you, as well.” She drained of all color before his eyes.
God, don’t let her swoon again!
He needed to have this said now, while he had the courage. “Let me pour you a glass of sherry,” he offered, reaching for the decanter on the drum table.

“I do not want sherry,” she snapped. “I want answers, Nicholas. What in God’s name is going on here? Where has Nero gone? What have you done with him?”

Nicholas bypassed the sherry, and poured himself a brandy. Would she understand something that he didn’t really understand himself? Would he be able to convince her to stay once he’d told her? Would she ever be able to love him—accept him as the bizarre phenomenon he really was? By the look of her then, it didn’t bode well.

“I have done nothing to Nero, Sara,” he said. “Nero and I
are one entity . . . or rather, two forms of the same entity. We are one and the same. I’ve always told you I meant him no harm.”

“How can you be? That’s insane! You said yourself that I shouldn’t become attached to that dog, because you were planning to get rid of him. What? Were you contemplating suicide . . . meaning to get rid of
yourself?
Why did you bring me here, then? That’s ridiculous!”

“No, the servants told you I was planning to get rid of him. That was the story I told them. They know none of what I’m about to tell you, Sara, and it must remain so. I told you that you shouldn’t become attached to Nero because he might be leaving us. That is why Dr. Breeden has come . . . to help Nero leave us.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” she said, shaking her head.

“I’m going to try to help you understand, Sara,” he said, “but you have to bear with me, and promise to hear me out. Much of this is new to me as well, and it’s difficult to speak about. I have never done with anyone but Mills, and the doctor.”

“All right, go on, then—explain,” she said, folding her arms beneath her bosom, “but I may as well tell you, I think you’re quite addled.”

“Before I was born, my father served in India, where he was bitten by a wolf,” Nicholas began. Her eyes were riveted to him, and he started to pace, taking sips from the snifter. “Your father was stationed with him out there, and it was he who killed the wolf that attacked, and he who saved my father’s life. When I heard that the daughter of Father’s comrade-in-arms, as it were, had been imprisoned for debt, I pressed my suit immediately. Had I known of your distress beforehand, you never would have gone to Fleet Prison.”

“So it was a philanthropic venture, our union?”

“Partly that, and partly what I’ve already told you, that I wanted to marry to put paid to the hounding of the
ton
.
Then, too, I was so terribly lonely, Sara. I had hoped that our arrangement would ease that somewhat, and dared not even begin to hope that Dr. Breeden might be able to help me find a way to live a normal life. But all that was before I met you. Now, it’s quite something else.”

“What ‘else’ is it, Nicholas, exactly?” she murmured.

“My God, don’t you know I’m in love with you?” he said. “You’ve stolen both our hearts . . . mine and Nero’s, don’t you know that? Couldn’t you feel it in my arms in that bed?”

“I thought I did,” she said. “I hoped I did, but we are not discussing that here now. You need to trust me with the rest of this—whatever it is—before we address that issue.”

“Of course,” he responded. “Forgive me. Father’s wound would not heal, and he was mustered out. I never knew him, Sara. He died, of complications related to the wolf bite, while I was still in my cradle. Mills was his valet as well, and he nursed Father, but Father distanced himself from Ravencliff at the end. He died alone abroad, and my mother never recovered from the loss. She passed when I was twelve. It was then that my . . . condition came to light.”

There was nothing in her face, and he went on praying she would keep her word and hear him out. “Whenever I am angry, overly excited . . . or aroused,” he went on, “I change into the form of a wolf—the wolf you know as ‘Nero.’ I cannot help it, or prevent it happening, but I always have fair warning—enough time to shed my clothes before the change occurs. The trouble is, while I can feel it coming on, I cannot control it. Dr. Breeden has been trying to help me do that, since there is no cure. That is what was going on when you came in on us with this deuced dressing gown. He was attempting to speak to my subconscious mind, just as Mesmer did with his patients.”

“A . . .
werewolf?
” Sara breathed. “Is that what you’re telling me you are? I thought werewolves were nothing more than fiction—made-up tales to frighten children!”

“No, Sara, not a werewolf, though that’s what I thought,
too, until Dr. Breeden diagnosed it properly. It seems I am what is known as a
shapeshifter
. Werewolves are shapeshifters of a sort, as well. Anyone with the ability to transform would fall into that category, according to Dr. Breeden. But the were-wolf is a different entity entirely—in a class all its own. An evil, predatory entity at the other end of the spectrum of creatures with the ability to take on other forms. And like yourself, I’d always believed such beings were creatures of myth.

“As near as we can tell, my father passed the condition on to me when I was conceived. We don’t know what the wolf that bit him was, or what he passed on to my father. He’s taken that to his grave, so all we can do is try to deal with what exists in me.”

“I . . . I thought that what I saw down in that passageway was some clever sleight of hand,” Sara murmured, “some trick of the mind, but you’re
serious!
You actually believe that you and Nero . . . !”

“We are,” he said at her hesitation. “Now do you understand why it had to be a proxy wedding, why I cannot leave Ravencliff—even to marry? Can you imagine what you just saw happening on the dance floor at Almack’s, or in the middle of Hyde Park one Sunday afternoon? Now do you see why I want no heirs to pass this nightmare on to, why I dared not risk consummating our marriage? That almost happened anyway, and I changed right after I left you. I barely made it to the master suite before it happened, and they locked me in the dressing room, until Nero chewed through the door panel and came back to be sure you were safe. Then you shut me, or rather Nero—it’s so difficult for me to separate us—up in the alcove chamber, where he stayed until just now. The minute I saw that you were safe I changed back. Unfortunately, you were there when it happened. I never meant for you to find out in that way.”

“Are you saying that you changed because of what nearly happened between us?”

“That, and finding Nell, but what nearly drove me mad
was learning that the wolf that killed her had been visiting you, and that you thought it was
Nero
. I knew you were in danger, and I couldn’t change back to protect you. I was too overset to calm myself and let the change occur.”

“Where did that other wolf come from, Nicholas?” she murmured.

He hesitated. Did she believe anything he’d told her thus far? There was no way to tell. That face would be perfect in the gambling hells; no one would ever guess her hand. He heaved a ragged sigh, stopped pacing, and set the empty snifter down. He hadn’t even realized he’d drained it until he tried to take another swallow. If she didn’t believe what had gone before, she would never believe what he was about to tell her now.

“Do you remember the night that Alex came into your room and nearly raped you?”

“That’s not something I’m likely to forget,” she said.

“Nero bit him, didn’t he? And then Alex got his pistols and shot him in the shoulder. What did you find when you entered my suite several days later? That’s right,” he said to her gasp. “You found me recuperating from a
shoulder wound
.”

“But there were two shots fired!”

“The other missed,” he said succinctly. “I ought to know, I was there, and I was fortunate. Alex held the record at Manton’s Gallery several seasons ago. He’s an excellent shot, when he’s sober.”

Sara gasped again. “That’s how you knew he told me himself that he assumed I’d left the door ajar for him! You . . . or rather Nero,
heard
him say it.”

Nicholas nodded. Was he gaining ground? He hoped so, because the next words out of his mouth were either going to prove his position, or damn him as a bedlamite in her beautiful eyes.

“Nero bit Alex, Sara,” he said, “and Alex hasn’t been seen since . . . but the other wolf has, hasn’t he? Nero was the only animal in this house until that night.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Mr. Mallory has become . . . as you are, because you . . .
Nero
bit him?”

“The condition can be passed on in that way, just as a werewolf passes its affliction on to its victims. Let’s not lose sight of the fact that my father passed this madness on to me after he was bitten—a weaker strain of what he must have been. This is not an exact science, Sara. You have only to ask Dr. Breeden. No two cases are alike. That is why he was so anxious to come out here and study mine. When did you first notice a change in Nero’s behavior?”

Sara was silent apace. “It was after the shooting,” she said. “I thought that was what caused him to be out of sorts.”

“Dr. Breeden says that the personality of the man will mirror that of his animal incarnation. Alex and I are polar opposites. While we look the same in wolf form, our animal incarnations are different enough for you to have noticed a behavioral change. What else did the wolf do that made you fear him?”

“His general demeanor was different. He didn’t greet me in the usual way, wagging his tail, nuzzling to be petted . . . almost seeming to smile. He seemed indifferent—”

“Thank God!” Nicholas interjected, in genuine relief.

“By that, I mean, instead of jumping up on my bed, he would lounge on the hearthstone, curling his lips back in a silent snarl when I tried to approach him and a genuine snarl when I attempted to examine his wound that time.”

“Where was that wound, Sara?” Nicholas asked, hoping this would sway her.

“In . . . his
foreleg!
” she breathed. “It happened so fast, I was confused. I thought what I first had taken for a shoulder wound was actually . . . lower.
I wasn’t wrong
. Oh, Nicholas!”

He nodded. “Alex carried the wound Nero gave him into his animal incarnation, just as Nero carried the gunshot wound into my human incarnation.”

“If all this is possible, why hasn’t Mr. Mallory changed back?” said Sara.

“We do not know,” Nicholas replied. “He was foxed, and in a blind rage when Nero bit him, and I was nearly running mad the last time I transformed. You know how long it took me to change back. That was the longest it has ever taken. Perhaps he’s confused, and not knowing what’s happened to him, he cannot change back. Perhaps his intellect isn’t developed enough, or he remains in a state of distress that won’t allow him to change. Or perhaps the untreated wound has poisoned his blood. There’s no way to be certain.”

“This is . . . impossible!” Sara murmured.

“Impossible, but true.”

“What happens to you when you . . . transform? How do you know when to change back?”

“Nero runs off the energy that caused the change until he calms, and then it just . . . occurs.”

“So, this is why I’ve so often found you in a state of undress?”

“Yes. You said once that such had occurred thrice. I can only recall two occasions, plus this last, of course.”

“Do you remember the night that we met on the stairs? You were wearing your dressing gown, and I’d been following Nero . . . oh, my God! You
knew
I had been!”