Wolf Who Loved Me (20 page)

“Dove,” the earl reminded her. “And I’m afraid taking you home will be out of the question, Madeline. Eynsford will be none too happy with me. And I aim to put off that confrontation for as long as I can.”

So Eynsford’s realm extended to more places than just Maddie’s existence within it? She glared at the beast. “Well, then you can put me on a mail coach and I’ll be out of your hair and find my own way to Kent. You can return the carriage at your convenience.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think that sounds like a very well-thought-out plan either. Perhaps it would be best to take you home with me instead.”

Maddie could only gape at the wolfish earl. Take her home with him? She wasn’t quite certain what he meant by that, but it didn’t sound good. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that whatever he had planned for her wouldn’t be in her best interest. And she suddenly felt like a pawn very much like Helen of Troy. Only instead of legions of Greek and Spartan warriors, she had the bad fortune to be dealing with English werewolves. And Lord Dovenby didn’t remind her of Prince Paris in the least. Helen had been a willing prisoner, after all. “You can’t possibly mean that,” she choked out. “You’re going to take me to my father.”

Dovenby scratched his chin. “I’ve given that a great deal of thought. And I don’t think it’s what’s best.”

“And you think abducting me is the right choice?”

He
tsked
at her. “‘Abducting’ is such a harsh word. Borrowing is more appropriate, don’t you think? You did come with me of your own free will.”

Maddie sat forward. “Unless you plan to take me to my father, you can let me out right this instant.” Weston would do the right thing and take her home, even after the spectacle he’d made of his relationship with Miss Reed that very morning. Wouldn’t he? Oh, dear, this wasn’t a good plan at all.

“I have a bit of a score to settle with Hadley, Lady Madeline. I’m very sorry to say it, but I believe I’ll use you to get to him, just as he used Lucy to get to me.” He shrugged and settled deeper into his seat.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” And she didn’t. Not at all. Was he mad? She hadn’t thought so until now.

“Lucy Reed was mine,” he drawled slowly, as though he was mulling over what he wanted to say. “And I don’t take kindly to people who interfere with what’s mine.”

Maddie had informed Dovenby herself about Lucy and Weston’s kiss that very morning. Now he wanted revenge? Oh, dear, she’d thrust herself right into the line of fire.

“Lucy doesn’t seem like the sort of lady who wants to marry,” Maddie began.

But Dovenby cut her off. “I’ve no intention of marrying her,” he scoffed. “I would never make her any such proposal.”

Then what was he talking about? A man didn’t usually go around saying a woman was his unless he intended to give the woman his name. “But you said…”

He silenced her with a wave of his hand. “Let’s just say that Hadley and I have a history of competition. We’ve been competing with each other over one thing or another since we were boys in school. The Lycanian Society seeks to match Lycan boys with other Lycan boys when we go off to school, so we have someone to bond with when the moon is full. So, Hadley and I got thrust together more often than either of us ever enjoyed.” His face took on a wistful expression. “That’s how we met. It’s also why Hadley hates the very ground that I walk on.”

“I don’t understand,” she began again.

“And you very likely won’t,” he said quickly.

Maddie folded her arms across her breasts and tried to think of a way out of this mess. “Wes will find me,” she finally tossed out, using her most haughty duke’s daughter voice. She’d been raised to look down her nose at people. She just didn’t like doing it. Not until now.

“He will find a trail of oranges. Oranges that match the scent of a patron we both smelled last night.” He pointed to the top of his head. “Did you see the woman with the ostrich plumes on her hat?”

Maddie shook her head. She didn’t recall much from the previous evening. She recalled Weston taking her innocence. She recalled the look of utter devastation on her father’s face. And she recalled a much more intimate interlude with her husband in the middle of the night. But she didn’t remember any woman with ostrich feathers.

“Well, you can rest assured that Hadley did.” He touched his own nose. “She was hard to miss. Absolutely reeked of oranges. Like a Spanish orchard in the summertime.” Dovenby appraised his fingernails. “By the time Weston realizes that you’re the oranges, we’ll be too far ahead for him to catch up.” He sat up straight and fanned the coach air toward her. “That citrus is perfectly hideous, by the way. When this is over, I hope you stick with your rosewater. It’s much more becoming.”

Thunder boomed in the distance, and Dovenby smiled broadly. “Brilliant. Rain will help to mask the scent even more. Not to worry, Madeline. You are perfectly safe from Weston Hadley catching up to us.”

Fabulous. So, now she stank, she was once again being abducted, and her new husband had already been unfaithful less than one day after marrying her. Or she didn’t have him. At this point, she didn’t know if having him was better or worse than not having him. She buried her head in her hands and groaned loudly. It was a horrible sound, and nothing like any sound she’d ever made before. In fact, she’d been raised not to make noise. Or get dirty. And now look at her. She was sullied in more ways than one.

Dovenby kept talking, chattering like a magpie as though they were having tea instead of being jostled around inside a racing carriage as they fled from her soon-to-be angry husband. “It could have been mud. Mud is a great masker of scents. But I thought you’d enjoy the oranges so much more.”

Fantastic. So nice of him to think of her comfort as he planned to abscond with her. “Oranges are better than mud,” she grumbled.

“I knew you’d think so.” He reached over and patted her knee, grinning at her like the idiot he was.

Oranges were not better than mud. What would have been better than mud would have been for her to have forgone her curiosity and stayed inside on that full moon night, rather than having to stick her nose in where it didn’t belong. If she hadn’t let her curiosity overrule her common sense, she’d be tucked snugly in her bed with a maid to bring her hot tea in the morning. And her father would still love her. And she’d never have had to disgrace herself by marrying Weston Hadley. And he’d never have had an opportunity to break her heart.

Maddie had always known that any husband she married would probably be unfaithful. Most men were, weren’t they? But she hadn’t thought it of Weston. Why did it have to hurt so much? Tears pricked at the backs of her eyelids. However, she refused to cry. Absolutely refused to cry. No. She would not do it. If she did, they would win. So, instead, she settled back against the squabs and began to plot her escape.

“How much did he give you?” Lucy asked as she nearly skipped beside Wes on their way to the dress shop a stableboy had pointed out.

“I haven’t counted it.”

“Give it to me and I’ll count it.”

If he gave the satchel, he’d never see it again. “I think I’ll just hold on to it.”

Her lower lip thrust outward. “You don’t trust me.”

He never really had. “We are to get
Madeline
something to wear.”

“I don’t have a traveling valise with me either, you know. Besides, I can’t see your high and mighty wife wearing something ready-made. She must have her own personal modiste whose entire life revolves around the lady’s wants and needs.”

Wes rolled his eyes. “There is no modiste locked away in the Hythe dungeon and only let out to cater to Madeline’s whims.”

Lucy snorted. “I’m certain nothing less than the finest Indian silk has ever touched her skin. She won’t wear anything less. You should just let me pick out something for myself.”

“You can work your wiles on Dovenby, Luce. You’ll find I’m immune to your charms.” Wes opened the door to the small dress shop, and a bell tinkled overhead. “Or have you turned your attention to someone else since we arrived in Scotland? Dove seemed annoyed with you this morning, almost jealous.”

Lucy scowled. “If either of us has a right to be jealous, it’s me. He’s the one marrying some featherbrained twit with more hair than sense. All I want is a little security.”

All she wanted was to be set up like a queen, but Wes held his tongue. He gestured to the interior of the shop. “After you, my dear.”

Lucy stepped over the threshold and graced the shopkeeper with her most winning smile, the one she’d wear on stage to convince the audience of her sweetness and sincerity. “Good morning,” she chirped.

“Good mornin’,” a plump woman replied, dropping a clump of tangled ribbons on the counter. “Can I help ye?”

Wes cleared his throat. “I need to purchase a few things for my wife.”

The shopkeeper grinned. “Just eloped, did ye?”

“How did you know?” Wes asked.

“Most of my business is from couples who left England with little more than the clothes on their backs.” She glanced to Lucy and grinned. “What are ye lookin’ for, lass?”

“Well, I’d like a new dress that isn’t travel worn. And new gloves. And do ye have any bonnets? My hair has been a mess ever since…” Lucy began.

Wes coughed. Loudly. “She is
not
my wife. She has come to help me pick out something for my wife as a surprise.”

The shopkeeper frowned. “I see.”

What was the frown for? Wes shook his head. “My wife is a tiny thing, but I need to get her a dress to travel in, some drawers, a chemise…”

“A tiara,” Lucy put in with a feigned smile.

Wes glared at the actress. “I don’t even know why Dove insisted you come along. I can handle this all on my own.”

“Oh, you’re doing fine. Don’t mind me.” Lucy stepped away from him to run her fingers along a rack of dresses a few feet from her.

Wes turned his attention back to the shopkeeper. “And a night rail, if you have any.” Though he preferred Maddie with nothing on, she’d probably like something soft against her skin. And he might enjoy removing it.

The woman frowned in Lucy’s direction, then turned her old eyes on Wes. “Let me see what I can find, sir.” She gestured to the rack of ready-made gowns Lucy was perusing. “The only dresses I have are over there. See if ye think somethin’ will work for yer wife, and I’ll retrieve some unmentionables from the back.”

“Thank you.” Wes crossed the small room to rifle through the selection of dresses as the shopkeeper disappeared into a room off the back of the store.

“She won’t wear any of these,” Lucy said matter-of-factly, peering around his arm. “I just looked.”

Somehow Wes managed not to grind his teeth. “Mind if I take a glance?”

The actress grandly gestured to the dresses before them. “By all means. I’ll save my ‘I told you so’ until you’ve finished.”

Wes ignored her and began to look at the dresses one by one. Truthfully, none of them looked like Madeline. The dresses were mostly serviceable and the material was far from the finest quality, but anything had to be better than what she had been wearing for days on end. He selected a light-blue muslin and held it up for better inspection. The bodice was delicate and the dress felt soft enough. Not as soft as Maddie, but it was better than the others.

“That will swallow her up,” Lucy declared. “Look how long it is.”

It could be long enough for an Amazon warrior for all Wes cared. It wasn’t as though Maddie would be walking anywhere. She would be
riding
and if she needed him to carry her over more than one threshold, he was happy to do the honors. “Thank you for your opinion.”

She turned her nose regally in the air. “That is why Dove sent me. He said you were clueless.”

Wes had thought that about Dovenby a time or two in the past, so he brushed off the insult. “Did you find something
you
wanted, Luce?” Perhaps if he got her something, she’d leave him in peace.

The actress shrugged. “I might be interested in a ribbon or two, but even I wouldn’t wear any of this, and I don’t have a modiste locked in my dungeon, waiting to tend to my every need.”

Wes growled low in his throat. “Go look at the ribbons, by all means. Just keep your opinions to yourself, will you?”

She rolled her eyes, but she did cross the shop floor to peruse the pile of ribbons the shopkeeper had been sorting when they walked in.

Wes lifted the blue muslin higher. There was nothing wrong with the dress. True, it wasn’t as ornate as the gowns Maddie normally wore, but he could still imagine her in it. And he could imagine taking her out of it. The dress would suit their purposes until they reached Kent.

A moment later, the shopkeeper returned from the back room, carrying a small package wrapped in paper. “The smallest chemise I’ve got. A night rail. Drawers. And I tossed in a pair of gloves.”

“Thank you.” Wes smiled at the woman and offered her the blue muslin. “And I’ll take this as well.”

After paying for his purchases and a couple of ribbons Lucy couldn’t seem to live without, Wes started back for the inn, Lucy at his side. For once in his life, Wes wished he didn’t have perfect hearing. If he could just block out Lucy’s whining and chattering, he’d be a happy man. And if he could get back to the inn and to his wife, he’d be a very happy man.

“Can I ask your opinion, Hadley?” Lucy asked.

Wes groaned. “What is it, Luce?”

She batted her eyes coquettishly at him. “Don’t you think a man should want to buy me a nice little cottage and take care of me?”

Wes shook his head. “I am not getting dragged into your situation with Dove. Work it out between yourselves.”

Her expression turned mutinous. “I should have known you’d take his side.”

“Oh, for the love of God. The only person whose side I’m on is my own… and Maddie’s. I have no desire to entangle myself in your mess. But…” An image of Dovenby sniffing Lucy that morning flashed in his mind. “If some Scotsman kept you warm last night, you’d better reconsider any attempt at making Dove jealous. He’s not one to mess with.”

“A Scotsman?” Lucy turned up her nose. “I highly doubt there’s a man in all of Scotland who could afford me.”

That might be the truest thing she’d ever said. Just as they entered the inn’s taproom, a blast of oranges assaulted Wes’ senses. He coughed and his eyes began to water. That ostrich-feather woman must have already come down for breakfast. He coughed again. Citrus scents should be used sparingly. Did the woman not have the sense of smell?

“You all right?” Lucy asked and smacked his back in a feeble attempt to help.

“Fine,” he bit out. Then he noticed the innkeeper in the far corner of the room. “Morning,” Wes called to the elderly man.

The innkeeper smiled and nodded in Wes’ direction. “Mornin’ ta ye, too, sir.”

“Did Lord Dovenby order a bath for my wife?”

The man shook his head. “Nay. I havena seen his lordship this mornin’.”

Wes heaved an irritated sigh. How nice of Dovenby to follow through on his promise. “Well, then will you send one up? I’m certain she’d like to refresh herself before we start home this morning.”

“Of course, sir.”

Wes bounded up the steps with Maddie’s packages in his arms. He could hardly wait to see her. It had only been a few hours, but he found himself quite impatient to draw her back into his arms and shower her with kisses and caresses and…

He tossed open their door to find the room completely empty. “Maddie!” he called.

But there was no sign of her anywhere. Wes stormed out of the room and down the corridor. Where on earth could she be? Certainly, she wouldn’t venture out on her own. He stopped and sniffed for her, but the only scent he could smell was that of the oranges the plumed lady had decided to douse herself in. He rubbed at his nose as he reentered the taproom. The innkeeper was still nowhere to be seen.

Wes nearly jumped sky high when a voice from the other end of the room boomed at him.“Well, what a surprise to find you here of all places.”

Wes spun to face the voice so very much like his own. His twin brother, Grayson, sat in a chair that leaned precariously on two legs as he wiggled his booted feet on the surface of the table. “What are you doing here?” Wes took a step toward his brother.

“Saving your mangy hide,” his twin replied as he slowly lowered his feet and sat up. He shook his head slowly at Wes. “Dash is beyond furious. How could you do it?”

“I don’t have time for you right now,” Wes said absently. He had to find Maddie. She couldn’t have wandered far. But for some reason, the hair on the back of his neck was standing at attention. Something was wrong.

Grayson shot to his feet. “What’s the matter?” He was beside Wes in the blink of an eye.

They’d always shared a bond, despite the fact that they argued like children, even as adults. Of course, Grayson would know something was amiss. Lucy Reed chose that moment to walk back into the taproom. “You haven’t seen Dove anywhere, have you?” she asked. She pointed toward the stairs. “I went to go and thank him for my ribbons, but his room is empty and all his things are gone.”

All his things were gone? “What things?”

“He bought a few essentials last night after you and Her Highness went off to fornicate,” Lucy said. “But they’re all gone.” She looked a little bewildered.

“You went off to fornicate?” Gray muttered beneath his breath.

“Shut up, Gray,” Wes growled. This was certainly not the time.

“Hi, Lucy,” his brother said. Gray’s gaze swept appreciatively down her form. “Nice to see you again.” His brother’s eyes twinkled with mirth. Or was it appreciation? Wes couldn’t tell and he honestly didn’t have time to worry about it.

“So nice to see
you
, Mr. Hadley,” Lucy chirped, instantly enthralled by his brother’s appraisal. It didn’t take much to light Lucy Reed’s fire.

Wes glanced at them both and rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you two get a room?”

“Fine by me,” Grayson stated as he stepped toward Lucy.

But Wes caught his shoulder. “How long have you been here?”

“Just arrived a moment ago,” his brother said. “Why?”

“Maddie’s gone.” Where on earth could she be?

“And Dovenby’s gone, too.” Lucy pouted.

Wes didn’t give a damn about Dovenby. The man could go hang for all Wes cared.

“How did you end up traveling with Dovenby, Lucy, and Madeline Hayburn, for Christ’s sake?” Gray asked.

“Hadley,” Lucy broke in.

“Yes, love?” Gray responded.

Wes chucked him on the shoulder. “She wasn’t calling your name, idiot.”

Lucy looked supremely smug as she said, “Lady Madeline Hayburn is now Lady Madeline Hadley.”

Gray choked out, “Since when?”

“Since yesterday,” Lucy informed him.

Wes stepped to the door to look outside. A few coaches were milling about as the coachmen readied themselves for impending journeys. In fact, Renshaw should be out there doing the same. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Gray jerked Wes from his reverie. “You married Lady Madeline?”

“He did,” Lucy continued, as though Wes wasn’t even in the room. “Then he had his wicked way with her and now she appears to have vanished. And so has Dovenby.”

“Sweetheart, you can do so much better than Dovenby,” Grayson said slowly as he stepped toward Lucy again.

“Put it back in your pants, Gray. Something is wrong.”

Grayson sighed heavily. Then he gave Wes his full attention. Finally. “Very well. Start at the beginning,” he said.

With Lucy Reed around, he couldn’t very well tell Gray about how Maddie had caught him shifting into wolf form. “Excuse us, will you, Lucy?” he asked. Then he led his brother up the stairs and into his and Maddie’s room.

Gray whistled as soon as he crossed the threshold. “Someone’s marriage was consummated,” he said as he sniffed the air. “More than once.”

Wes shot him a look.

Gray held up his hands as though in surrender. “Sorry, do tell.”

“You remember I went to Castle Hythe the night of the full moon?” Wes started. Hopefully, he could make this short.

“I remember you bolting from Eynsford Park after Dash made his decree that Lady Sophia should tutor us.” He smirked. “I think she may have bitten off more than she can chew with Archer, by the way.”

That was the last thing that concerned Wes at the moment. “Anyway, Lavendon partnered with me in whist. And I ended up staying longer than I should have.”

“Lavendon?” Grayson scoffed. “I’d wager he’s just the start of your troubles.”

“Finally, a bet you’d win,” Wes said sarcastically. Then he inhaled deeply to calm himself. “Our cards were great and we kept winning. I couldn’t just abandon him.”

Gray’s brow raised in surprise. “Heaven forbid you abandon Lavendon.”

“I should have,” Wes agreed. “Chilcombe didn’t take the fleecing well.”

“What a surprise,” Gray remarked drolly. “What did he do?”

“Well, I was on my way to the forest, and Chilcombe came after me.” Thinking back on it, Wes could have done so many things differently. With a better outcome. Although Maddie was the best bit of luck he’d ever stumbled across.