Wolf’s Princess (13 page)

Rose suppressed a shudder.

McGrath snorted loudly. “Some men do enjoy that.”

Had Rose not been looking at Sky she would have missed the tiny bit of tension in the set of his mouth. “Some do. They can pay for one of my ladies to act that way for him, or he can go to another house and find the real thing.”

McGrath laughed. “And some of the women in your house don’t even spread their legs for a man, but they earn as much as one of the whores down at Gabe’s does just by talking to him.”

“That’s right.” Dessert finished, Sky pushed back from the table. “As I said earlier, men will pay a twenty bit just to have a pretty girl’s attention for an hour. And he’ll buy them both a drink while he does it. The lady is happy because she’s not being forced to do something she hates, the man is happy because he spent an hour with a lady who knows how to make him feel big, and Omaha is happy, because the taxes are paid.”

“Hard to argue with that.” The mayor pushed back also and smiled at his wife. “You don’t mind, my dear, if we stay at the table instead of going to the parlor for coffee? I think the Wolfes are good enough friends that we can skip all the demands of formal etiquette?”

“Not at all,” the older woman murmured mechanically, lifting her glass for another refill.

“Splendid,” McGrath said. “Sky, did you know that while you were gone, Judge Case and his wife had twins? Another boy to add to his previous two, and a daughter. Another female added to the roster.”

“I’m happy for him,” Sky said in a tone that was more polite than interested.

“And the new school was finished just in time for the fall session to begin.”

While the men spoke of Omaha happenings, Rose managed to put away the last of her anger. She couldn’t believe Sky admired the mayor or the way he made abusing women legal, but his act was convincing. On the train he’d told her she wouldn’t always like the way he behaved in Omaha. It looked like he was right. And he was right about McGrath’s evil nature, too.

Mrs. McGrath had been watching her. The older woman’s eyes were a bit hazy with drink, but they seemed warmer now. “I hope you’ll come visit me again, Mrs. Wolfe.”

“I would like that,” Rose lied.

The mayor smiled at his wife. Rose thought it was the same sort of indulgent smile he would give a pet dog whose antics were entertaining. “Helen doesn’t go out, but you are always a welcome visitor, Mrs. Wolfe. Sky, your wife looks tired. I suppose being on the move all day has exhausted her. And being newlyweds, I don’t expect you’ve let her get much sleep lately.” His chuckle may have been meant to be friendly, but Rose froze at the lewdness hidden in it before the heat of a blush washed up her cheeks. “Davidson, have the car brought around.”

Sky stood. “Thank you so much for having us for supper. It was delightful.”

“Yes,” Rose agreed in a murmur. “Thank you for a nice evening.”

As they went past their hostess, Mrs. McGrath reached out to catch her hand. “Please do come, Mrs. Wolfe. It would be so nice to get to know you better.”

Rose held the fragile hand. From this angle she could just barely see the last portrait of the McGrath’s son. The expression on his mother’s face meshed with a memory and something clicked in Rose’s head. “What was your son’s name?”

The gaunt face showed brief surprise. “Ryan. Ryan Thomas McGrath.”

Rye Thomas. Rose’s breath left her in a rush. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed it. “I’m very sorry that I brought back bad memories earlier.”

Mrs. McGrath pressed her fingers. “Not at all. Some memories can hurt, but others bring joy. Do come again soon.”

“Thank you, I will.”

She could hardly stand to wait until she climbed into the backseat of the car next to Sky to tell him her discovery. But as soon as she opened her mouth to ask him if the McGraths’ son was really dead, he closed his over it. Any thought of the Rye Thomas Trading Company flew out of her head. This wasn’t a quick peck. It was a hot, overwhelming onslaught of tongue that froze her in place. She flashed back to the hallway of the den, eight years ago, when he’d pinned her against the wall and kissed her with unschooled savagery. A tiny pang of fear was squashed by trembling, uncertain passion. And just as she began to relax into the kiss, he lifted his lips and replaced them by his fingers.

“Hush, princess.” A flick of his lashes reminded her of the driver in the front seat. “We’ll be home soon. Then we can finish this.”

Chapter 9

Finish this.
Her blood ran fast and hot through Rose’s veins. Finish the conversation, or the kiss? Much more kissing like that and she might forget their marriage was only pretend. Having sex with Sky would make it real. She inched away from him. As curious as she was about sex and as handsome as she found Sky, she was not ready to commit herself yet. She still wasn’t sure she even liked him.

She concentrated on looking out into the dark streets and inhaling the odd aroma of French fries. In a dim corner of her mind, she remembered something about cars running on strained fryer oil. Sky took her hand and held it for the fifteen minutes it took to drive to a wrought iron gate set in a stone wall. It was strangely arousing to feel the warmth of his fingers around hers, and it was a real effort to keep her breathing slow and calm.

The man beside the driver in the front seat hopped out and opened the door. Sky stepped down and kept hold of her hand to help her out. “Thanks, Barnes,” he said.

“Good night, Mr. Wolfe. Ma’am.”

The gate squeaked as it opened. Stone stood there, glowering. “I’m glad you’re back, Rose. Your cat has torn up two sets of curtains, smashed a dozen wine glasses, clawed three guests, and eaten half the snacks Mrs. Nord made for the guests.”

Her attraction to Sky was forgotten. “Oh, no. Poor Mitzi. She must be terrified.”

“Poor Mitzi?” Sky echoed, with a note of disbelief rising in his voice. “You’re worried about the damn cat, when she’s wrecked my house?”

“Yes. She’s afraid of being in a strange place without me.”

“I told you to leave her at the den,” Sky ground out.

Rose stuck her chin out. “I told you if she didn’t come, I didn’t come.” She turned back to Stone. “Where is she now?”

“In the laundry room. We caught her and locked her down there.”

Sky bunched his fists. “Why wasn’t she put there to begin with?”

“Well, we tried. That’s where Paint was taking her when he found two men getting ready to rape one of the maids.”

The temper on Sky’s face faded, replaced by something cold and still and infinitely more dangerous. “What. Happened?” Each word was distinctly separate.

“Well, when Paint grabbed them and took them upstairs, there was a bit of a tussle and that’s when Mitzi got loose.”

Sky strode through the gate, pulling Rose along with him by her wrist. “Close the gate. I don’t give a flying fuck about the cat. Where are the rapists?”

“Paint took ’em to the Guards.”

Rose watched Sky visibly wrestle with his anger. “Which maid? Is she okay?”

“It was Miss Katelyn.” Stone shook his head sympathetically. “Scared her bad. Once Paint took the men away I went looking for her with Mrs. Nord. When she saw me, she wanted to run. I stepped back so I wouldn’t scare her so bad and Mrs. Nord got her to come up. She made her drink something and then put her to bed out in the dormitory you have in back. I guess she’s sleeping now.”

Sky nodded. “How did they get in? Were they regular guests?”

“Nope. Turns out there’s a secret tunnel. It goes from a little door in a closet in the basement to a stand of trees in the park behind your house.” Stone gave his cousin a consoling pat on the shoulder. “Joe said it must have been built in the Terrible Times, like an escape route for whoever lived here then. You didn’t know about it.”

His tone didn’t make it a question, but Sky answered as if it were. “No. What happened to the door?”

“Looks like it got so rusted it broke. We closed it up again, but you can take a look in the morning. It will need repairs.”

“God.” Sky groaned, rubbing his free hand through his hair. “I don’t have enough men to patrol the grounds and guard the women.”

“You do now.” Stone grinned. “The six of us.”

“I’m glad you’re all here.”

Stone’s grin turned a little mocking. “Even the cat?”

Rose shot Stone a glare. Sky seemed to suddenly remember he was holding her hand. The moonlight clearly showed the charmingly rueful smile he sent her. “Maybe not the cat, but I promise I’ll try to like her.”

Rose had no defenses against that smile. “She really is a sweet little girl,” she assured him. “She’s just unsettled. You would be too if you were stuffed into a basket and made to stay in it for eight or nine hours. Once she gets comfortable you’ll like her.”

“Uh-huh.” Sky sounded unenthusiastic.

“You will. Oh, Stone, have you seen your mate yet?”

The younger man shook his head. “It was too late when we got here. Maybe tomorrow Snow will walk me over to her uncle’s house. He knows the way.”

Sky tugged on her hand. “You’re getting cold out here. Let’s go up to the house.”

The gravel driveway led up a slight slope to a house that wasn’t quite as grand as the mayor’s, but close. Large windows glowed with light. It was an inviting sight. Rose stared at the large Victorian mansion made of dark brick. This would be her home for the next month.

Sky was still holding her hand. “Was there something you wanted to tell me? It’s not safe to speak of private things in the mayor’s vehicle.”

“The driver would have repeated everything to him, wouldn’t he?” At his nod, she snorted. “I thought so.” Their feet made crunching sounds in the gravel as they walked toward the house. “Is the mayor’s son dead?”

Sky stopped for a moment, staring down at her before moving again. “Nobody knows for sure. The mayor doesn’t talk about it.”

“I know a man named Rye Thomas. He’s a trader in Kansas and Nebraska, and he looks a lot like the boy in the pictures.”

Sky stopped again, this time with both his hands clutching her shoulders. “How well do you know him?”

She shrugged his hands off. “I don’t actually know him at all. He helped rescue Ellie a couple of years ago, and he’s stopped at the den to trade a few times since then.”

He turned the subject without saying anything more about Rye Thomas. “Let’s go in the back way. I don’t want to have to introduce you to all the appointments and guests until after the newspaper announces our marriage.”

As they walked past the house Rose saw just how big it was. In the back were three long, one-story buildings. Bunkhouses? One of them must be the dormitory Stone mentioned. “When will that be?”

“Tomorrow morning. I arranged it with the registrar. Turn here. There are four steps.”

She followed him up the steps and through the door he held open for her. They entered an empty room with hooks on the walls to hang coats, only dimly lit by distant light from another room. A mudroom, like her grandparents’ farmhouse had. Laughter rose above the music of a piano in another part of the house. Sky touched her elbow.

“This way.”

She followed him across the mudroom to a pair of doors set side by side. He waved at the door on the left.

“That door leads to the basement. We have the laundry room down there, and storage. This door goes up to the top of the house.”

The staircase he revealed was narrow and very steep. From the bare wood stairs and walls she guessed this was once a servant staircase. They climbed two flights of stairs, and after the first landing, the distant light disappeared. In the dark, Rose kept one hand against the wall and the other touching Sky’s back. She panted slightly by the time they reached the top. Sky opened a door so short that he had to dip his head so he didn’t bash it against the frame when he walked through. At five-eight she passed through with a couple of inches to spare. He touched the wall and electric light came on with a buzz. They were in a short hallway with four doors opening from it, two on each side. On one end was a window covered by a lacy curtain, and on the opposite end was a door.

Sky nodded to the door. “There’s a small porch out there. Looks out over the front yard. I don’t use it much, but Ms. Mary used to sit there in the sun and read.”

“That sounds nice.” Rose smiled, imagining herself reading there.

He moved down the short hall to a door, opened it, and turned on the light. It came from two lamps attached to the wall, and it wasn’t bright, but Rose mentally did a little dance of delight at the ease of electricity. She obeyed his gesture and walked into the room. It was Spartan. A chest of drawers stood against one wall with a spotted mirror above it, and a bed with no headboard or footboard was in the middle of the room. The coverlet was a boring, industrial shade of gray, pulled up under a fat, dingy, white pillow. A table with a lamp that had seen better days was on one side of the bed and a chair on the other. There were no rugs, and the hardwood floor could have used some polish. Two dormer windows in the sharply sloping roof could have been charming, but thin curtains of faded blue hanging limply from rods ruined it.

Rose imagined jail cells had more personality. Her four suitcases were crowded into a corner. She supposed guestrooms weren’t given a high priority in the decorating budget. She made herself smile at Sky. “Nice. Where’s the bathroom?”

He walked out of the room and opened one of the doors across the hall. Rose peeked in. The room was nearly as large as the bedroom, with pink paper on the wall and matching ruffled curtains over the window. She instantly fell in love with the claw foot tub, chipped and discolored with age, but big enough to swim in. A shower head attached to the high curtain rod peeked over the flowered shower curtain. The pedestal sink gleamed pristine white. A vanity, as feminine and frilly as the bedroom was not, took up much of one wall. Rose walked over the small tiles laid out in geometric floral patterns to look around a partition and found the toilet. She turned back to look at Sky.

“Do you have running water?” His nod relieved her. Carrying buckets of water up those steep steps would have made taking a long hot bath more work that it was worth. Another thought struck her. “Is there hot water? Or does it need to be heated?”