The Reinvented Miss Bluebeard

by Minda Webber

  She sat back rather weakly in her chair, her sensibilities strained as she tried to articulate her feelings. "I don't trust you. You're too wild to be reliable. Too much the roving schemer."

  "So, tame me. You're a special woman, capable of achieving the improbable—even the impossible. Cure my wanderlust and let me love you, be loved by you."

  "Poppycock, pure wishful thinking."

  "Is that a medical opinion?" Adam asked. He fought off surliness. He was revealing bits and pieces of himself, yet she refused to believe his sincere intentions. He had met hardheaded people before, ogres being notoriously so: even when hit over the head with a tree, they often failed to fall. But Eve was more stubborn than most.

  "Adam, admit it—you don't really want me. You took this scheme for the gold." She stared at him, as if trying to guess his thoughts.

  "It is true that wealth was the draw. The gold is the reason I became your husband—but my staying is your fault. I can't leave you."

  "It's only your libido speaking. You desire me; that's all."

  "Ah, libido. I love it when you talk doctor talk."

  Eve couldn't help it; she found herself giggling like a schoolgirl. But before she could do something totally stupid, like kiss him, Lady Jane and Asher joined them and interrupted their conversation. She said, "I'm finding myself feeling quite silly, and I need to apologize. I've been a terrible hostess. It's just that Asher has been gone the past few nights, and I've missed him terribly."

  "It's been a wonderful evening—truly," Eve replied.

  "I'm sure you understand," Asher added. "You two have been apart much longer than a few nights. I must commend you, Adam, on your forbearance. I must admit I would miss my Jane too dreadfully to be without her for years."

  "Sitting beside my lovely wife now, I can't imagine ever being without her again," Adam responded. Eve kicked his ankle with her dainty slippers, but that didn't stop his grin. Turning his eyes to the earl, Adam asked, "How did you meet?" He liked both the Wolvertons. They seemed such an unlikely pair.

  "You might say our courtship was rather unusual," the earl admitted. "She doused me with brandy and tried to stake me. It's that Van Helsing blood. Rather a violent lot," he teased his wife, his blue eyes sparkling.

  Jane snorted, and Asher's chuckle turned into a heartfelt laugh. Eve giggled.

  "And I thought our courtship was strange," Adam remarked thoughtfully.

  "How?" Lady Jane asked.

  Taking a chance, Eve replied, "Adam can be so elusive. At times I felt I was being wooed by an invisible man."

  She didn't have long to wait for Adam's reaction. He looked stunned, then barked out a laugh. Glancing at the earl, he remarked, "The little admiral likes to run a tight ship."

  "Have to, in a lunatic asylum," Asher said.

  "Quite so," Adam agreed.

  Suddenly Lady Jane dropped her fan, her attention caught by something along one of Vauxhall's many scattered pathways. Eve and the rest turned to see.

  "Why, it's Frederick," Eve said, watching as Frederick Frankenstein loped up to a tall woman with an extremely complex hairdo. She was rather attractive, with remarkably large, expressive gray eyes. The lady was with three female companions, and was surrounded by young bucks. Apparently she was enjoying her conversation with the young men. She was unaware of the monster who was hurtling her way, his greenish skin touched by pink.

  "I do hope Frederick slows down. He can be so clumsy when besotted, and besotted he is!" Lady Jane worried. "I only wish I knew more about Miss Beal. She appears nice enough, however. Her father is the Marquess of Cleese."

  Asher nodded. "Very high in the instep. Soul of propriety and that sort of thing. Might not look too kindly on a match between a Frankenstein and a Cleese."

  From the earl's private box, they all watched in concern as Frederick approached Miss Beal, his grin wide. But as he made to bow before the cherished lady, his very big feet got in the way and he tripped. He knocked Miss Beal's hand—the hand holding her punch, which sprayed all over her white silk gown. Hissing at Frederick, she fled with two of her female companions, leaving only the young bucks laughing uproariously and mocking Frederick's courting technique. Their mockery was too much for the gentle giant. Frederick fled, his back hunched and his big heart breaking.

  "We must find Frederick at once!" Eve exclaimed. "I can't believe this is happening to him." Knowing the severity of his inferiority complex, she knew she must soothe him before he had an extreme attack of nerves.

  Lady Jane rose to her feet with alacrity. "Yes. Let's go at once. I don't understand why some people must hurt others to feel better about themselves. Why did they all have to laugh at him? Oh, I wish his cousin Clare were here."

  "History repeats itself," Eve replied. Then, seeing Jane's distress, she added, "I never understood why some people kick dogs, gossip to no good, or make others cry. It's a defect in their character—or rather, lack of character. They are missing something vital within, and because of this, I fear they will never truly be happy."

  "If I know Frederick, he'll try to drink himself under the table in some run-down tavern," Lady Jane stated.

  "Can he find a table that big?" Adam asked.

  "Let's just hurry. I must find Frederick," Eve said. "I imagine he is experiencing a rather abrupt case of melancholia." She hurried out of the box, urging Adam with her.

  He caught up, handing her the shawl she had left behind. "Don't worry, Evie; we'll find him. How hard can it be to find a six-foot-eight monster?"

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hooked!

  Their initial search for Frederick Frankenstein was to no avail, though they covered over a dozen paths in the gardens; they'd sent Lady Jane to start searching taverns. Far overhead, the stars were tiny diamonds, glittering. Wisps of smoke from the last of the fireworks still hung in the air, and the golden glow of lanterns and the moon above made the shadows mysterious and romantic. Any other time, Adam would attempt to ravish the lovely woman beside him. But rogue though he was, he also recognized Eve's concern for her patient.

  Wearily Eve shook her head. "I fear Frederick has long left," she said. Her voice broke suddenly, and she lowered her head. "My feet hurt. If I had known I would be walking for hours on end, I would have worn my walking boots."

  "I believe you're right. Frederick's not here," Adam agreed. "Why don't you send a note to Dr. Frankenstein?" He reassuringly patted Eve's hand.

  "I will. And I'll let Dr. Frankenstein know that I must see Frederick as soon as possible. This debacle tonight has probably set back his treatment by months. If I had been able to see him straightaway, I might have been able to defuse some of his embarrassment. He has such a big heart. Unfortunately, his feet are bigger," she remarked.

  In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Adam found himself smiling. "He's lucky to have you. You care quite deeply for your patients. You don't believe in unfair restraints, even for Hugo. You don't put your wards in pits or treat them harshly. So many fear those who are different, but you care for and about them."

  Gazing into his eyes, Eve felt her breath hitch. He had such compelling eyes, which had suddenly had grown heavy-lidded with desire. His compliment might not fix everything, but it certainly lightened her load. "Thank you. I try so hard. Hours of therapy and evaluating—but I rarely am certain of the results."

  Releasing her hand, he paced. "The point is, my dear, your patients can trust that you'll never give up on them."

  Tilting her head, she studied him. It was as though a warm sea breeze trailed over her soul, and suddenly she needed to be held in his arms, to feel secure and warm… maybe even a tiny bit cherished. She nodded, feeling a marvelous sense of safety and comfort, knowing someone cared and understood.

  "Yes, that's it exactly," she said. "And I must confess that you have been rather good with my patients, too."

  "My aunt. She was a gentle lady with a loving soul. She lived with us. In her later years, she suffered delusions."


  "I'm sorry," Eve responded, feeling more of a connection with Adam than she ever had. The man had befuddled, badgered, and butted heads with her, and now he was slowly bewitching her. The hint of true vulnerability beneath his charming façade had touched her soul. "What happened?"

  The expression on his face showed that these memories came with a cost. Watching him, Eve felt the strongest urge to lay her head upon his breast and ease his pain—a most wifely thing to do, she noted absently, and most assuredly absurd.

  "My aunt heard voices. It was not unusual to see her carrying on a conversation with no one, or with a tadpole in a pond, gesturing and grumbling. She would talk to a blank wall, or to a piece of lint on her sleeve. Her favorite conversationalist was a duck in our pond. She died when I was twelve. My mother—her sister—never gave up hope that she would become herself again. She combed my aunt's hair at night while listening to her complain about how the rocks shouted at her. Even after we lost my father, my mother was kindness itself."

  "Your mother sounds like she was a remarkable woman," Eve said.

  "Yes. She was one of the best of ladies. And she knew that love is not bestowed on the basis of merit or wealth. Love endures."

  Eve took a few steps closer and placed her hand upon Adam's chest—her first really spontaneous gesture toward him.

  Adam responded by leaning forward to kiss her lush lips. He felt desire swamp him, as much as when he was a lad of fourteen and had been given his first real kiss by a lusty milkmaid. A grand and glorious tupping had followed, and Adam was still known to look appreciatively at a mug of milk.

  He groaned in anticipation as Eve abandoned her reserve, clutching his jacket and pulling him hard against her, fiercely kissing him back. For once, they were two minds meeting in perfect accord under a star-filled night in a garden of paradise and pleasures.

  He began to deepen their kiss when he found them interrupted by a loud, obnoxious laugh.

  "Why, you sly boots! Lassie, what are you doing out here in the dark corners of Vauxhall, kissing yer husband like any common wench?" Captain Bluebeard asked with a wry grin.

  Both Eve and Adam drew back, Eve with chagrin, Adam with annoyance.

  Repressing the urge to curse a blue streak, Adam clamped his teeth together and tried to ease the ache in his groin. The next time he attempted seduction, he would definitely plan more cautiously. He certainly couldn't call her father out for protecting Eve. And he currently wasn't foolish enough to do it, since the Captain was known to be expert with both pistol and cutlass.

  "Father, what are you doing here?" Eve gasped, watching her father's swagger. Unhappily, he was with one of his more unsavory boon companions. She'd wanted to groan out loud when she recognized the rat. His hair was black and unruly. He had one beady eye—a very dark brown one, the color of sooty walnut—and a black eye patch on the other. His lips were rather sensual, but he had a long blade of a nose with an arched ridge.

  "Hook." Eve gave a curt nod, her facial features tightening, and without really thinking she reached out her hand to find Adam's, giving him a speaking glance as Hook took her other hand and raised it to his lips.

  "Eve, the gods must be smiling on me to find you here tonight. You look enchanting, as always." Lowering his lips Hook softly caressed her hand. He lingered a bit too long, his one good eye lit with desire as his nostrils flared.

  Jerking back her hand, Eve found herself suddenly quite tired of men slobbering all over it. Wrinkling her nose, she addressed the pirate captain by his first name: "Ben." The word was said with an obvious lack of courtesy.

  Adam protectively circled Eve's waist with his arm, sending a challenging glare at the one-handed buccaneer. "I'm Adam Griffin. Dr. Adam Griffin. Eve's husband." His last two words were not only possessive; they were clearly a threat. Hook was said to be ruthless in getting what he wanted. His crews were the dregs of the rodent world, a scurvy sort made up of full-blooded wererats and wereweasels. So Adam's hackles rose along with his combative instinct.

  Hook sent a malicious look at Adam, then stepped back, his one good hand clenching into a fist. His one good eye was shimmering with malice. "Ah, the missing husband. The husband who left his wife alone for, what—more than two years, isn't it? How smitten by her charms you must be."

  Answering the verbal insult with an arrogant tilt of his head, Adam smiled grimly. "Grave responsibilities kept me from my beloved. But now, I'm here and I'm staying," he warned.

  "How unfortunate," Hook snarled, his sharp teeth glistening. "Most unlucky. You see, I've been at sea the past two years, but I too am back. His words were a challenge I've missed you, my Eve. I've thought of you often."

  "I've not thought of you," she replied, glad for once to have a husband by her side, pretend or otherwise. "And with Adam's return, I have been happily involved."

  Captain Bluebeard watched silently, a thick dark brow cocked, his eyes fairly dancing with delight. Resolutely he managed to remain quiet—not an easy feat for one of his nature. His plan was working wondrously. Eve, in spite of her fierce independence, was clinging to her husband, while the great pretender was not pretending at possessiveness.

  Yes, Bluebeard nodded to himself, all was going according to plan. The young privateer was a good man to have for a pirating and drinking mate—and even better as a son-in-law. Hook was a ruthless foe, a man after Bluebeard's own heart, but he was too wild and too much a womanizer to be wedded to his daughter. Evie needed a man who would understand her mind and cherish it, and who would let her dictate to him some of the time. Well, Bluebeard thought, most of the time. Hook would never be that man; his temperament too fierce, his nature too domineering, and his fidelity too doubtful. Adam however, would.

  "Adam, me boy, 'tis good to see ye again. How is married life treating ye?" he asked in his booming voice. "With the grin on your face, I am guessing ye aren't feeling leg-shackled."

  "How could it be anything but perfection with an enchantress like Eve for a wife?" the young pirate replied, caressing Eve's shoulder. "How fortunate that I was able to claim a wife like my Eve. She is everything I ever wanted in a woman, and she's mine alone. Beware, Captain Hook, I'm an ill bird for plucking."

  Captain Bluebeard ignored the tension between the two men, threw back his head, and laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day when me own daughter was brought to heel. Love does work wonders."

  "Why are you here, Da?" Eve asked, glaring at her father.

  "Me and Hook were just in the neighborhood. Course, it took us three fancy carriages to get here," he added with a chortle.

  Eve was not amused.

  "Come, Ben, me boy," he coaxed, grabbing the other captain's arm. "I know when I'm not wanted. Let's leave the lovebirds to their nest."

  His words caused Eve to grimace, while Adam grinned wickedly, which caused Hook to mutter a curse.

  Hook gave Adam the evil eye—an eye as dark and foreboding as the heavens above. "This isn't over by a long shot. I saw her first, when she was barely a girl of fourteen. Even then she was a temptress, with her glorious hair and those lips red as apples. I knew then she would one day be my own."

  "Over my dead body," Adam responded. Deadly menace was written across his features.

  "Exactly," Hook replied, his voice hard. He raised his gold hook to gesture. "Exactly my point."

  Before a challenge could be issued and a duel set up, Bluebeard threw a heavy arm around Hook and began dragging him away. Both Adam and Eve watched silently, half-listening to Bluebeard's chastising. A few threats for Hook were thrown in as well, threats to leave his favorite son-in-law—his only son-in-law—alone.

  Eve stamped her foot. "Oh, how I despise that great hooked lout! I would dance a pirate jig if he'd be lost at sea! The man is a nodcock of the first degree if he thinks I'd ever marry him. I wouldn't have him on a solid gold platter—a hundred platters."

  Watching her stomp her foot in ire, Adam could only be glad that this time Eve's temper wasn't directed at him.
Still, she was a beauty. "How fortunate for you that you can't marry him, because, my dear, sweet wife, you're married to me." And, by God, you're going to stay married to me.

  Before she could say the usual words of outraged protest, he grabbed her and kissed her silly. He was going to tame this woman or die trying.

  Her breath coming in spurts, Eve looked up at Adam, her blue eyes afire with passion. "This can't be happening," she said. She needed to refute him, to rout him, to rattle him—even to riposte him—but not stand here and let him drive her senses mad. His nearness and his hot, sweet kisses made her toes curl to such a degree that she was in danger of tearing her slippers.

  "Oh, my love, it is," he replied, stroking a curl that had come loose from her topknot. "Your hair is like a burst of flame flickering about your soft cheek. Such lovely hair. It begs me to free it." So saying, he snatched the pins from her hair while she stood there stupidly.

  "I prefer it loose," he continued. "You'll have to wear it that way in our bedchamber." And without further ado, he kissed her again, a kiss that was fierce with need.

  Her scent was so tantalizing: a blend of fresh spring breezes, with the heady scent of gardenias mixed in. Her firm breasts pressed against his chest, making him want to rip off her bodice and suckle to his heart's content.

  Again, Eve found herself responding to the passionate possessiveness of Adam's kiss. Her heart beat wildly. It was more than obvious that the scoundrel wanted her, but there was more to his touch than mere seduction. When he wrapped her in his arms, she felt a tender regard. His eyes were large and expressive. They revealed a need for her, and admiration. She felt her universe shift, as if the moon were eclipsed and the earth shook. Adam truly did care for her.