The Taming of the Wolf (5 page)

Dashiel grinned rakishly. “If she can prove her loyalty, I could be persuaded not to mention last night’s indiscretion.”

Blackmailing blackguard.

Lamont’s sigh of relief echoed throughout the small room. It wasn’t in anyone’s best interest for Cait to chastise the earl at the moment for his heavy-handed behavior. That could wait until later. She pasted a fraudulent smile on her face. “That does seem most fair, my lord.”

Who did he think he was to bully her around like that? She was going to teach the Earl of Brimsworth a lesson he wouldn’t ever forget. But timing was everything.

Dash was fairly pleased with his success. Caitrin Macleod was traveling in
his
carriage, directly across from him. Before much longer, he would have her in his bed, too. He nearly groaned aloud at the thought, but with the glares her maid continued to shoot at him, that wasn’t a particularly good idea.

He leaned his head back against the squabs and his gaze fell to Caitrin. She looked like an angel in the daylight, too, sitting so properly with her hands folded in her lap. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have her hands on his bare skin. Heaven in every sense of the word.

Caitrin turned her gaze from the window and settled her soft blue eyes on him. Besotted fool that he was, Dash’s breath caught in his throat. He managed to pull himself together and hoped she didn’t notice. “So nice not to travel alone.”

A tentative smile lit her face before she smothered it. “Why are ye headed ta Glasgow, my lord?”

“I already told you, Miss Macleod. My future’s there.” In every sense.

He really should ask the lass’ father for her hand. Do things properly. He hadn’t asked for Prisca Hawthorne’s hand until it was too late. Besides, he hadn’t been in love with Prisca Hawthorne. He didn’t quite believe in the emotion, but he’d liked her quite a bit. She would have made the perfect countess. She was beautiful, poised, and could manage a household with no effort at all. He’d even played the gallant. But that hadn’t stopped William Westfield from snatching her out from under Dash’s nose.

The loss of Prisca had been a blow to his ego, but his heart had been unaffected. Staring at the beautiful blonde across from him, so different from Prisca in almost every way, Dash wasn’t certain he could survive if he lost Caitrin. But was that because of the connection that tied him to her, or was it something even more than that?

She was a lady; there was no question about it, with the way she held herself so proudly. But a Scot? He could just imagine the look on his father’s face when he found out. If the Lycan news didn’t finish the old buzzard off, a Scottish daughter-in-law might do the trick. That thought brought a smile to Dash’s face.

“What is so amusin’, my lord?” Caitrin asked him.

“I was just thinking about my father.” Not that the powerful Marquess of Eynsford was his true sire, but odds were the vicious old man didn’t know that. Or maybe he did, Dash didn’t care anymore. “I think you’d knock him off his feet.”

A pretty pink stained her cheeks, and Dash bit back a smile. She wasn’t immune to flattery. He’d keep that in mind. He’d charm her right out of her dress if all else failed.

The irritating maid cleared her throat, so he must have given something away on his face. Dash raised his brow, daring her to say something. After the way she neglected her duties, it was quite something for her to attempt to chastise
him
.

A giggle escaped Caitrin’s throat and he returned his gaze to her, which suited him just fine. “Have you always lived in Glasgow, Miss Macleod?”

The maid sputtered.

Caitrin turned her glance back out the window. “Papa has land in Berwickshire, but I’ve only been there once.”

Only once? That was odd. From the time he was young, he’d been shuffled from the ancestral estate in Kent to the hunting box in Yorkshire and to every other Eynsford property in between. It wasn’t until his thirteenth year, when he went through
changes
, that the trips stopped.

His father had called him a demon child, a monster. Dash had been locked up every full moon since, either by the marquess’ orders or his own. The first time he’d been free, Caitrin Macleod had stumbled into his path. Was that fate?

“I doona like ta travel,” she explained, breaking into his thoughts.

That didn’t make any sense at all. Dash glanced around the coach. “Then why did you journey to Hampshire? It’s not a short trip.”

She shrugged. “Elspeth had need of me.”

“Lord Benjamin’s wife?” he asked, though he knew he must be right. The red-haired woman in question was Major Forster’s daughter and had Caitrin’s exact lilt.

She nodded. “We’re very close. Like sisters, ye could say.”

“And she needed you in Hampshire?”

Caitrin’s blue eyes cast downward to her hands. “Ye wouldna understand, my lord.”

“You could explain it to me.”

Her hands began to fidget in her lap. “I doona think that would be wise.”

Dash frowned at her answer. She didn’t trust him. He’d change that, as soon as he figured out how.

***

All day in a carriage with the Earl of Brimsworth. Caitrin sighed. She wasn’t doing very well with her pledge to stay away from Lycans, which was more than a little frustrating. After watching the way Benjamin Westfield had courted Elspeth, she would have thought she knew well the arsenal of tricks Lycans used to capture women.

But Dashiel was different from that. Just as soon as she decided she hated him, he’d swoop in and turn her mind upside down, like he’d done the night before. He shouldn’t have stayed all night with her, but it was very sweet of him to worry about her, just the same.

Then he had to turn around and do something as despicable as threaten to expose Jeannie and manipulate Cait into his carriage. Her mind was still whirring on that situation, though she was certain a solution would present itself.

Cait heard a slight thump and looked over to find Jeannie sleeping, her head resting against the side of the carriage. Then she heard him chuckle.

“You cannot avoid me any longer, Caitrin,” Dashiel said smoothly.

Cait raised a hand to her chest in surprise. “I doona ken what ye mean, my lord.”

“You’re holding back on me. I want to know all about you. Every detail, but you’ve been hiding behind your maid’s skirts.”

Her cheeks warmed at the accusation. “I most certainly have no’,” she hissed. “And I dinna give ye leave ta use my given name.”

“Ah, yes.” He winked at her. “We must abide by the formalities of our rank, Miss Macleod. I nearly forgot. Thank you for reminding me. I tend to forget my manners when I’m with you.”

Cait reached up absently to rub her shoulder. “Did ye have any manners ta begin with?” she murmured.

Again he chuckled softly, a sound that almost made her smile with him. Almost, but not quite. Then he shrugged and said, “I was overcome by the moment. There’s no other way to justify it.”

Caitrin chose to look out the window and avoid his amber eyes, which suddenly seemed to look
into
her instead of
at
her.

“Tell me about last night,” he prompted. “I noticed the pair in the taproom, but I never would have known what sort of villain the man was. How did you know about the girl? And how were you already upset about something that hadn’t yet happened?” He held up a hand when she was about to speak. “Not that I minded, of course. I like it when you fling yourself into my arms. Feel free to do so at any time.”

She didn’t remember
flinging
herself into his arms. Not exactly.

“The girl, Miss Macleod. How did you know?”

Now, how could she explain it? “I saw them downstairs, too,” Caitrin lied smoothly. She’d been lying about her gift of clairvoyance for years. It came easily to her. “Somethin’ dinna seem right with them.”

His eyes narrowed as he appraised her face. “I can hear it when your heartbeat speeds up,” he said softly. “I can’t tell if you’re anxious because you’re telling me an untruth, or if it’s because you like me.” He grinned mischievously at her.

“I can assure ye it’s neither.” She sat up a bit straighter.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Then what is it?”

Truth be told, just the look in his eyes made her heart beat faster. He had this way of making her feel naked, despite the fact that she was fully clothed. She squirmed in her seat.

He chuckled once more and sat back, a supreme example of a relaxed male. “That’s what I thought.”

Caitrin wanted nothing more than to rant and rave about his superior attitude. But her sleeping maid didn’t allow her to say what she wanted to say. Instead, she pushed her lips together in an effort to stay quiet.

***

The more Caitrin pursed her lips, the more Dash wanted to kiss them. Her very existence tortured him, though she seemed oblivious to his plight. If he could get her talking again, he could focus on her words to distract himself.

“Do you have any sisters or big, burly brothers?” Anyone he should worry himself about meeting when they reached Glasgow.

She shook her head. “Nay. I’m an only child, though I have a small group of friends I’m very close ta. Ye could say we’re like sisters in a lot of ways.”

Dash had a few friends but none so close that he’d consider them family. Of course, he could never trust anyone enough to divulge the dark secret he kept hidden. What he wouldn’t give to have been raised in a pack that accepted him.

“Ye look far away, my lord.” Her soft, lilting voice reached the recesses of his mind and brought him back to the present.

“Nothing of any importance, I assure you.”

“What about ye? Do ye have any siblings?”

“None that I’m aware of,” he admitted. Honestly, who knew how many children his real father had sired?

Caitrin’s tinkling laugh warmed his soul. “What is that supposed ta mean?”

He probably shouldn’t have said that. He wanted to marry the lass. Confessing to being a bastard wasn’t the best way to go about convincing her. “One never knows,” he answered vaguely.

She cocked her head to one side as though assessing him, and he didn’t welcome the scrutiny. What secrets would she uncover, simply by looking at him?

“My father wanted many sons, but he was only blessed with me. Something he’s lamented for years.” He wasn’t certain why he told her that. There was something about staring into her pretty blue eyes that made him want to confess all.

Caitrin bit her bottom lip, the sight of which made his trousers painfully tight. “Yer father’s no’ a Lycan?”

Dash nearly fell out of his seat. How could she possibly know that? He shook his head, stunned. Then he took a sidelong glance at the sleeping maid. “No. And that fact, according to Major Forster, means he’s probably not my father.” There, he’d said it. There was no use trying to hide it; her mere presence would pull it from him anyway.

Her pretty blue eyes rounded in surprise. “And yer mother?”

“Dead. She died in childbirth, taking the secret of my sire with her.”

“Oh. That must be difficult. A friend of mine never kent her father, and it pained her every day.”

Dash released a breath he didn’t know he held. “You’re very kind not to judge me.”

“Ye’re hardly responsible for yer own circumstances, my lord.”

He reached across the coach and grasped her hands in his. “Dashiel, or Dash, if you’d rather.”

She shook her head. “I doona think that would be appropriate.”

Probably not, but wanting to hear his name on her lips was nearly driving him mad. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Her eyes twinkled devilishly, as though they shared a secret. “Dashiel, why do ye say yer future is in Scotland?”

It was heaven to hear her say his name, and Dash nearly groaned. He leaned forward to touch his lips to hers. Her sweet breath encompassed him, and her soft sigh was almost his undoing. She didn’t pull back. She didn’t balk. She didn’t complain. She didn’t abhor him or what he was.

“Because you’re my future,” he whispered across her lips. “Because I’m going to marry you when we reach Glasgow. After I’ve properly courted you and asked your father’s permission, of course.” He pressed his lips to hers again quickly and sat back, unable to keep from wiggling his foot in excitement at the very thought.

A startled laugh escaped her. “I doona remember a marriage proposal coming from yer lips ta my ears, my lord.”

And she wouldn’t, either. If he asked, she could refuse him. It would be better to discuss the situation with her father. “Not to worry. I’ll make you a very wealthy countess, Caitie.”

“
No one
has ever called me Caitie,” she huffed as she leaned back against the squabs, glowering at him.

Dash couldn’t help but grin because she was so adorable. “Then it’s a great term of endearment, isn’t it?” He leaned back against his own seat. “Caitie, my angel,” he sighed dramatically.

“Ye are so infuriatin’.”

“I could say the same about you, angel.”

“Then why on earth would ye want ta marry me, ye fool?”

“There are several reasons, actually.”

“And they are?” she prompted.

“For starters, I like you,” he said, winking at her.

She scowled. “And?”

“And you’re beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes.

He laughed out loud but soft enough not to awake the sleeping maid. “And you challenge me.”