Wolf Who Loved Me (16 page)

Maddie glanced across the coach and watched as Lucy Reed’s mouth fell open and a soft snort erupted. The blonde had finally dozed off, after going on and on about men and their propensity for letting a woman down. Maddie had listened intently until she realized that Miss Reed had no plans to speak of her time spent with Wes. The woman had just smiled and evaded the question, as though she liked having a secret that Maddie would never know.

She should have kicked the tart out of the coach as soon as she’d climbed in.

Maddie took in the tumbled state of Lucy Reed’s curly hair and wished for a brief time that her own hair could look so artfully disarranged. She patted the top of her head. Her own hair probably looked as though a rat had settled in it and built a nest.

The dress Miss Reed wore was freshly laundered but showed quite an expanse of flesh. Maddie glanced down at her own tattered neckline. Other than the damage done over the last two days, her gown was respectable and demure. She was everything a lady was supposed to be, while Lucy Reed was not. They both had numerous suitors, but their situations couldn’t have been more different. What was it that Wes had seen in the actress? Was it because Miss Reed’s gown showed a bit more of her ankles than was proper? Or because she tossed up her skirts freely? Warmth crept up Maddie’s cheeks. The very thought of it!

And it wasn’t just Wes. Both of her brothers apparently had showered Miss Reed with attention, as well as the Earl of Dovenby until Lucy Reed started thrashing him. What was the allure? She didn’t have a fortune or an important family. But Lucy Reed looked like she knew how to have… fun. That was the word. The woman looked like she probably enjoyed her life.

Maddie wished she could say the same, but “enjoy” was too strong a word. Oh, she knew it would be foolish to complain about her life. She was quite fortunate in many ways, but she’d never had the luxury to have fun.

The carriage’s pace slowed and then finally stopped. Renshaw probably needed to change horses. After all, they had traveled for hours after leaving Wes and Lord Dovenby along the side of the road. She wasn’t even certain where they were headed any longer. This was as good a time as any to find out.

Before she could open the door, it was yanked open from the other side. Wes poked his head inside, anxiety etched across his brow. “Miss me?”

“H-how?” she muttered, but then clamped her mouth shut. How in the world had he reached them? What other abilities did the man possess? She wanted to ask, but she was still too annoyed with him to show any appreciation for his miraculous appearance. “I didn’t miss you at all. Please move, Weston. You are blocking me, and I’d like to stretch my legs.”

“Without your slippers? The pebbles on the drive will hurt your feet.”

Blast her missing slippers. They were the bane of her existence. Still, she thrust her chin upward with every ounce of dignity she still possessed. “I’ll manage.”

His eyes flashed across the coach to the still sleeping actress. “Look, Madeline, whatever she said, I can explain.”

Could he? That Maddie highly doubted. Not that she’d gotten anything of use out of the actress, but had the woman spilled the beans, Maddie couldn’t quite believe Wes could explain it all away with just a few words. Still, perhaps she could get him to divulge his own secrets if she went about this the right way. “I wouldn’t be so certain if I were you.”

Wes’ face turned a bit red as his gaze resettled on Maddie. “Why? What did she tell you?”

Of course, Maddie had no answer for that question, so she shrugged instead. “Didn’t you tell me as late as last night that I was the only woman you cared for?”

His dark eyes narrowed and a frown settled on his face. His scar made the whole look appear more than a bit menacing. “Perhaps you’ll remember, my lady, that for years you were well out of my reach.”

Did that justify whatever it was he’d done? “I hardly see how—”

“What would you have me do?” he growled. “You never even gave me a second glance.”

“That is hardly true.” She’d seen him a number of times over the years, but until recently he’d simply terrified her.

“Prevarication does not become you, my dear.”

“I say, Hadley,” Lord Dovenby’s voice drifted into the carriage, “I thought we were in a hurry.”

Wes took a step backward and Maddie could see the earl standing behind Wes. “
We
are not in a hurry.
I
am in a hurry. Now retrieve Lucy and move out of my way.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Dovenby brushed past Wes, and the carriage dipped as the earl climbed inside, settling in a spot beside the still sleeping actress. “Don’t think for one moment you’re going to leave me behind.”

“Get out!” Wes barked.

“I have no intention of missing your blissful union. Besides, you’re going to need a couple of witnesses once you reach Gretna anyway.” Dovenby stretched his long legs out across the coach as though he was settling in for a long journey.

Maddie wasn’t certain what good it would do to have the earl along for the ride. They’d need two witnesses, and Lucy Reed, being female, wouldn’t qualify.

“And I’m certain we can find a couple of willing Scots to serve as witnesses.” Wes gestured out the door with his hand. “I’ve got Hythe on my tail and I don’t need your added bulk, Dove.”

The earl sighed. “Well, then I suppose you shouldn’t tarry, Hadley. Every second counts, does it not? Climb on in so we may be off.”

Wes did climb inside, though he grumbled as he did so. “If Hythe catches us, I will have your head.”

The earl chuckled. “Promises, promises.” Then he tapped on the roof of the carriage for Renshaw to start driving.

***

Honestly, Wes would like to have Dovenby’s head
now
rather than later. If the damned earl had just taken Lucy and stayed at the coaching inn where Renshaw had swiftly changed horses, Wes could have tried to smooth over whatever truths Lucy had let spill from her lips. Madeline’s leg was pressed against his, but she was staring out the window beside her as though he didn’t exist. How many times over the years had she given him the back of her head in that same way?

But it was different now. He wasn’t some penniless gentleman. He wasn’t Rob’s friend. He wasn’t some besotted fool. Well, he
was
all of those things, but most importantly, he was now about to become her husband. And he couldn’t even speak openly with her since that damned Dovenby had decided to tag along on their journey.

“Next stop, Gretna Green,” Dovenby nearly sang out. “I’ve never been part of an elopement before.”

“You shouldn’t be a part of this one,” Wes complained.

“Oh, come now. I might actually be of assistance.”

“And the King might actually welcome his wife at his coronation.”

Dovenby laughed. “You should see the goings-on in that trial. Madness, all of it. I’m embarrassed to have to sit through it.”

That was saying something. “I didn’t know you ever got embarrassed about anything.”

The earl gestured toward Lucy Reed with his head. “I believe we all get embarrassed from time to time, Hadley.”

Wes’ eyes settled on the sleeping actress. He’d give all his worldly possessions to know what Lucy had revealed to Madeline. How was he to soothe his intended’s ruffled feathers if he didn’t know what she knew?

“If men would behave with some decorum and common sense, then you wouldn’t find yourselves in these predicaments,” Madeline murmured from beside him. Then she turned toward him quickly, irritation flashing in her green eyes as she hissed, “For goodness’ sake, you’re fearful of what she told me. But she wouldn’t be able to tell me anything if you hadn’t
done
anything, Weston.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and turned back to glare out the window.

From across the coach, a low voice said, “I didn’t tell her anything, Wes, if it eases your mind any.” Lucy Reed glared at him for a moment before her eyes drifted shut again. But it was obvious that she had no desire to continue.

Madeline bristled at Lucy’s use of Wes’ given name. And he couldn’t blame her. But, good God, he’d bedded the chit. He couldn’t expect her to call out “Oh, Mr. Hadley” in the throes of passion.

Madeline held up a hand to silence him. “I don’t want to know.”

“Good, because there’s nothing to tell,” the sleepy actress said quietly.

“I highly doubt that,” Madeline sniffed. “There seems to be quite a bit I don’t know.”

Lucy finally opened her eyes fully and looked at Madeline. “You and I lead very different lives. Please don’t judge my life and I’ll refrain from judging yours.”

“As though you could cast any negative aspersions on
my
character,” Madeline said, her voice full of self-righteous haughtiness.

“I could judge you,” Lucy said. “And I’d wager that your servants line up to do your bidding in your castle on the hill. I bet you have nice gowns and people to do your hair. And I’d bet my eyeteeth that you have very rarely had fun. Any kind of fun at all. The kind where your stomach hurts from laughter. The kind where you can’t catch your breath because of the sheer enjoyment of it all.”

She shot Madeline a nasty look. “I came from your lifestyle, Lady Madeline, and you couldn’t pay me enough to go back to it. I choose to be who I am. I don’t do what I do because I have to. I do it because I enjoy it. And when you learn to do that, you will indeed be rich and privileged.”

Dovenby whistled. “I had no idea you had it in you, dear,” he said to Lucy. Then he began to clap. “Bravo.”

“Shut up, Dove,” she said, before she crossed her arms and made a perfect imitation of Madeline’s stance, glaring out the same window.

Madeline’s mouth hung open. She closed it tightly and quickly when she caught Wes staring at her. Madeline did lead a privileged lifestyle. She did have all the things Lucy mentioned. And because of that lifestyle, she did have a decided disadvantage in some things. He’d seen Madeline smile. He’d seen her sing and curtsy and be respectful, but he’d never seen her in a fit of side-splitting laughter. He’d never seen her so excited she couldn’t sit still. He’d never seen her truly enjoy herself. And that was something he would endeavor to change.

Wes had grown up in a home full of boys. There was constant fighting, constant laughter, and constant pleasurable enjoyment. Not to mention, his gender afforded him some luxuries Madeline didn’t have. She had to be a paragon of virtue. He didn’t. And couldn’t if he tried. But she could learn to enjoy herself. Couldn’t she? He could teach her.

“Madeline,” he whispered close to her ear. She brushed at his head like he was a pesky fly. “Please don’t be angry at me.”

“I’m not angry,” she murmured back.

“Whisper, dearest, so Dovenby can’t hear you.”

“I don’t care if he hears me,” she hissed back. “I have every right to be angry at you.”

She did. True. “How long do you think you’ll remain angry?”

She shrugged. Then she arched a brow at him. “Until you’ve learned your lesson?” she asked most pleasantly.

Dovenby laughed into his closed fist from across the coach. Madeline shot him a look, and he instantly pretended to be absorbed in the scenery.

Madeline let her gaze run from the top of Lucy Reed’s head to the bottom of her feet. “I can’t compete with someone like her,” she finally said in a heavy whisper.

“It’s not a competition, Madeline,” he said, trying to soothe her.

“She’s everything I’m not.” Maddie sniffed. “And you obviously wanted her at one point.”

“I’m not an innocent, darling. Most men aren’t. And I feel certain you wouldn’t want one who was.”

“I don’t want you, either,” she murmured.

“I highly doubt that’s true.” He lifted one hand to cup the side of her face. “You want me. You just don’t want to want me.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She finally looked at him. Not toward him or around him. But looked at him. “Do you still want her?”

“The only woman I want is you,” he confessed. She was the only woman he’d wanted for quite some time. The others were simply distractions from what he couldn’t have.

“You’re going to have to ask the driver to stop so I can cast up my accounts if you two don’t stop your blathering,” Lucy Reed said with more than a bit of censure in her tone. Then she looked at Madeline, her eyes softer than he’d ever seen them. “He’s head over heels for you, love. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be trying so damned hard.” Madeline’s face colored at the actress’ curse. “That’s something I never got from him. So, take it at face value.”

Wes leaned over Madeline and let his lips graze her cheek.

“Is she right, Weston?” Madeline asked.

Good God, the woman needed more assurance than anyone he’d ever met. “I’ll show you tonight.”

“But tonight we’ll be married,” she said, her brow furrowing.

“Exactly.” Wes settled back to enjoy the scenery with Dovenby. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw the earl reach out and take Lucy Reed’s hand in his, and draw it beneath her skirts so no one could see the gesture of affection. And she let him.

Maddie watched the quaint village of Gretna Green come into view just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. She had begun to think they might never reach their destination. She still wasn’t certain she was making the best decision, but she truly had very little choice in the matter.

She glanced at Wes beside her and noticed the way the shadow in the carriage’s waning light hid the scar that had once frightened her. Funny, now that she’d spent days in his presence, she barely noticed the slash unless he was particularly angry.

“I suppose this is it,” Lord Dovenby remarked cheerfully. “Your last chance to bolt and pray for an escape.”

Wes stiffened at her side, and Maddie glared at the interfering werewolf. “Are you speaking to Weston or to me?”

Dovenby laughed. “Well, you, of course, my lady. Certainly you realize that no matter what you’ve seen or haven’t seen, you can do better.”

“What did she see?” Lucy Reed asked, a look of confusion marring her pretty face.

Wes growled deep in his throat. A warning if Maddie had ever heard one.

“I can’t imagine why you think I would bolt, my lord.” Besides, if the way the two Lycans had caught up to her when she’d left them on the side of the road was any indication, she doubted she could run fast enough for an escape. Not that she was of a mind to do so. “I accepted Weston’s proposal and have no intention of changing my mind.”

Dovenby’s blue eyes twinkled. “As you say, my dear.”

“Some witness,” Wes grumbled, which only made the earl laugh. Dovenby might as well have been Brutus to Wes’ Caesar. “Remind me to return the favor sometime.”

“Ah, when I am finally leg-shackled, Hadley, it will be in front of God and all of society in St. George’s. I will have my pick of witnesses, all of whom with standings much more exalted than yours.”

Comparing Dovenby to Brutus seemed too kind all of a sudden.

“Leave him alone, Dove,” Lucy Reed chided. “You really can be an obnoxious arse.”

“I can handle my own affairs, Lucy.” Wes scowled at the actress.

Lucy sniffed indignantly and folded her arms across her chest. “I know that, Hadley. I’ve seen you handle fellows worse than Dovenby before. But if you’re trying to be on your best behavior to impress your prim and oh-so-proper bride, I can assure you that you’re really looking like a dolt.”

Maddie sucked in a breath. Why did Lucy Reed find a way to insult her every time she opened her mouth? And she’d insulted Wes, too. “Behaving like a gentleman is to be commended, Miss Reed.”

The actress smirked. “Spoken by a lady who doesn’t know otherwise. You may take my word for it, Lady Madeline. No woman wants a gentleman in her bedchamber.”

Maddie was certain her face was as red as a tomato. The things the woman said!

“Enough, Lucy!” Wes barked just as the coach crawled to a stop. “Wonderful as it’s been having the two of you along on this journey, we must part ways now that we’ve arrived.” He nodded in Lucy’s direction. “Godspeed on your return to London.” Then he glanced at Dovenby, “Best of luck with your own upcoming nuptials.”

The earl chuckled. “You keep trying to get rid of me, Hadley. I’m starting to take it personally.”

“Perhaps you should,” Wes remarked.

Dovenby gestured toward the door with a sweep of his hand. “Do hop out. A Scottish blacksmith awaits.”

Wes glared at the other Lycan, but he did open the door. Then he offered his hand to Maddie. “My lady.”

His hand enveloped Maddie’s smaller one as his dark eyes locked with hers. In that instant, Dovenby and Lucy Reed seemed to fade into the background along with all of Maddie’s wits. Wes would let her go if she wanted it. She could see it in his eyes. Despite that beseeching stare that begged her to come with him, he would let her go in an instant if she asked it of him.

But she didn’t want to be let go. She’d come this far. She’d left her home and her father behind. She’d jumped out an inn window, for heaven’s sake. Maddie smiled at him as a rush of excitement washed over her. Marriage to Weston Hadley would be an adventure. A passionate, fun adventure. With a man who had the potential to love her. It was more than she’d hoped for. More than she’d been schooled for her whole life.

He smiled back. “Are you ready, my lady?”

Maddie’s heart pounded in her chest. Was she ready? Really ready? She’d come this far, hadn’t she? Not trusting her voice not to crack, Maddie nodded her answer.

Wes helped her alight from the carriage and then scooped her up in his arms. Her bare feet tingled in the cool Scottish breeze as his boots crunched along a path to the entrance of a white stone blacksmith’s shop.

A young lass was sweeping the floor and looked up at their approach. “Are ye here for a weddin’?” She swiped at her cheek and left a black smudge across her face.

Wes nodded. “We are indeed, and we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

“Someone chasin’ ye, huh?” The lass shook her head as though she’d seen it all in her short years. “Papa!” she called loudly. “Ye’ve got more customers.”

A moment later, a man dressed in all black, and looking more like a vicar than a blacksmith, appeared in the doorway. “Ye’re lookin’ ta get married?”

“And they’ve got someone chasin’ them,” his daughter informed him.

The blacksmith grinned. “Well, then let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“Thank you,” Wes replied.

“Ye can put the lass down, sir.”

Maddie looked at the dirty ground and tightened her grip around Wes’ neck.

“If it’s all right with you, I’ll hold her.”

The blacksmith shrugged. “Suit yerself. Have ye got a ring?”

Wes’ body stiffened at the question. He had nothing, she well knew. It wasn’t as though this impromptu rush north had been planned with great care. She squeezed his shoulder and then cleared her throat. “I’m already wearing it. Just a moment.” Maddie tugged off the emerald ring she’d worn since her mother’s passing a decade earlier. The stone glittered in the waning light as she held it out to Wes.

He looked so sad all of a sudden, as though he regretted the fact that he had nothing to give her, but he could give her something more precious than jewelry. He could give her the passion he’d promised, an adventure she would never forget, and the possibility of having a good marriage.

“Ye really should wait until ye’re wed ta wear the ring.” The blacksmith frowned at her.

But Maddie shook off the censure. The last person she was going to let pass judgment on her was an anvil preacher who knew nothing of her standing. “May we get on with it, sir?”

The blacksmith’s frown deepened, but he said to his daughter, “Fetch me a couple of bodies, lass, and be quick about it.”

“Only need to fetch one,” Lord Dovenby said from behind them. “I’ll serve as a witness.”

The lass made a quick exit to do her father’s bidding, brushing past the earl in her haste.

“Thank you, sir.” The blacksmith nodded in Dovenby’s direction, then turned his attention back to Wes and Maddie. “All right. Yer names, please?”

Wes puffed out his chest proudly. “Weston Hadley and my bride is Lady Madeline Hayburn.”

“About the payment, Mr. Hadley…” the man’s voice trailed off.

“I’ll be paying,” Dovenby replied. “My little wedding gift to the newlyweds.”

Wes growled. “I have the funds, Dove.”

The earl grinned. “I’m sure you do. But I think I’ll enjoy having you owe me, Hadley.” He glanced back at the blacksmith. “You may proceed, sir.”

“Just as soon as…” The blacksmith looked at someone behind them.

Maddie’s heart jumped to her throat. Certainly Papa hadn’t caught up to them. She glanced over Wes’s shoulder to see who was behind them and breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes landed on a brawny Scot instead of her father. “Fi said ye needed a witness.”

“Thank ye, Hamish.” The blacksmith gestured Wes and Maddie closer. “We may begin now, Mr. Hadley, Lady Madeline.”

Wes stepped closer to the anvil in the middle of the shop.

“Ye really should put her on her feet for the ceremony.”

It would only be for a few seconds. She could stand on a dirty floor for a few seconds. Maddie nodded quickly. Wes placed her gently on her feet. Her toes curled from touching the chilled Scottish ground.

Then the blacksmith pulled a golden cord from his pocket and grasped Wes’ right hand and Maddie’s left. So that’s why he wanted her on her feet. The gesture was quite sweet really, so Maddie pushed the thoughts of dirty, cold floors out of her mind. The blacksmith began to wind the cord around their wrists, binding them together. “Repeat after me, Mr. Hadley. I, Weston Hadley, take ye, Lady Madeline Hayburn, ta be my wife before God and these witnesses.”

“I, Weston Hadley, take you, Lady Madeline Hayburn, to be my wife before God and these witnesses.” His dark eyes sparkled as he repeated the words, a promise of more to come.

Warmth shot to Maddie’s belly.

“All right, Lady Madeline, yer turn. I, Lady Madeline Hayburn, take ye, Weston Hadley, ta be my husband before God and these witnesses.”

Maddie tipped back her head proudly. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, she’d only get married once. She was going to do this right. “I, Lady Madeline Hayburn, take you, Weston Hadley, to be my husband before God and these witnesses.”

“Ye’ve got the ring, Mr. Hadley?”

“Yes, of course.” Wes fumbled around in his pocket before retrieving Maddie’s emerald ring and then he slid it back on her finger. But this time, it slid onto her hand with a promise of the future, rather than a remembrance of the past.

The blacksmith gestured to the two of them. “Ye may kiss yer wife now, sir.”

Wes wasted no time drawing Maddie to himself, wrapping his unbound hand around her waist and pulling her flush against him. Then he slowly dipped his head and captured her lips with his. His kiss tasted of desperation. Of comfort. Of something she didn’t even understand. It was sweet and kind and hot enough to melt her toes. She stepped up onto her tiptoes to press her lips more firmly to his. But Wes broke the kiss and raised his head.

“Just in time,” Dovenby remarked.

Wes took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “Your father has arrived.”

The earl grinned as though he had a secret no one else knew. Like he was the happiest man in existence. “You should probably spirit your lovely wife off to the closest inn and climb into bed before he reaches you. I’ll stall him as long as I can.”

“Are you ready to run again, Madeline?” her husband asked.

Was she? She was. “I’m ready, Wes,” she replied.

Once again, he scooped her up in his arms and fled into the darkness of the night, into their unknown future.

***

Wes let his new wife slide down his front until her toes landed on the clean floor of their tiny rented room. Her hair hung about her shoulders in wild disarray, and he’d never seen her look more lovely. Madeline fell against him like she was meant to be there.

“Do you hate me for doing this to you?” he asked as he nuzzled the side of her neck.

“I’m not very fond of the room,” she began with a nervous giggle, “but I can accept my circumstances.”

“Someday, Lady Madeline, I will get you the best room at the best inn, and then we’ll recreate this night.” He could do that, couldn’t he? Certainly, he could. But for now, her father was nearby, and if they didn’t hurry, he’d have an opportunity to snatch Madeline right out of Wes’ grasp. Hurrying was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to savor every moment. To taste every part of her. To tempt her with passion like she’d never imagined.

“We should hurry,” she said as she turned and presented her back to him. Before she turned, though, he saw the rosy blush that crept up her cheeks. And the way that her hand trembled. Wes worked at the fastenings of her gown with nimble fingers, slowing only momentarily to press his lips to the skin he bared.

“I don’t want to hurry,” he breathed against her back, just as he reached the last fastening. He held her hips in his hands and squeezed, perhaps a bit too roughly with his frustration, but she didn’t complain. “But if we don’t seal this, he could take you from me.” He stood up and spun her in his arms, then tipped her chin up so that she looked into his face. “You understand, don’t you?”

But she was already tugging at the sleeves of her gown, pulling them down. She was naked beneath the gown, having left her chemise at the last inn. He probably looked like a complete dolt staring at her. “Could you turn down the light? Just a little?” she asked hesitantly.

Wes ran a hand through his hair as he crossed the small room, then doused the light. He turned back to face his bride, the only illumination in the room was the light from the waning moon that streamed through the window. The same moon that had started this journey. The same moon that had forced her into his path. God bless the moon.

Madeline was willing to forgo any hint of passion and get this over with quickly. But was he? He wasn’t. He wanted her first time to be perfect. He wanted to make love to her, not tumble her like a whore. He wanted to feel her around him, near him, inside his heart.

“Stop,” he said. Her head jerked up as she looked at him with curiosity.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, clutching the bodice of her gown against her breasts.

Wes groaned. “Everything.” He threw up his hands and began to pace. “This isn’t how I want this to be.”

“How do you want it?” Her voice quavered. “I must admit that I have no idea of what’s supposed to happen.” She looked as lost as he did, he was sure.

He’d bungled this. Bungled it badly. Wes might have to hurry, but he’d make this wonderful for her if it was the last thing he ever did. He tore his own clothes off with haste and didn’t stop until he wore nothing but his smallclothes. And the only reason he didn’t remove those was because he didn’t want to frighten her.

“Come here,” he said quietly. She took one hesitant step toward him, still clutching her gown against her breasts. Wes could only hope that Dovenby could hold off the duke long enough.

Wes dropped to one knee in front of her. Then he tugged at her gown. She covered her breasts with her arm as the gown fell to her hips. As he tugged the gown lower, he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her belly. It fluttered beneath his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.