He laughed and kicked the blanket lower. “Good night, Miss Jardine.”
***
Closing the study door behind him, Wesley watched as Colonel Roulet circled behind his desk. Roulet clenched his teeth and pushed down on the tabletop with all his strength as the wolf threatened to pull from his body.
“Colonel, speak to it. Remind it that everything is all right. It’s safe.”
“But it isn’t,” he replied in a harsh whisper between his teeth. “I can’t.”
“Listen to me, we have to do something about them, but we aren’t going to do what they say.”
“What are they, Bisclavret? What are they? I don’t feel the same thing I feel around you. I don’t sense them that way.”
Wesley licked his lips and slowly released a breath in hopes that he could keep his own wolf calm against the tension rolling off the other man. He had worked with him long enough to create a tenuous connection to the wolf within him, to see through its eyes and speak to it, but it wouldn’t stop it from coming out if he was truly afraid. It was self-preservation that the wolf couldn’t be blamed for. Wesley would make the colonel’s wolf submit if he had to, but at what cost to both of them?
“Colonel, tell your wolf to back down. I don’t want either of us to get hurt. There are enough predators in this house, and they’re far more dangerous than I am. I’m going to lock the door and make sure no one is outside. Do you understand me?”
After a moment of silence, Roulet nodded. Wesley stuck his head out of the door and listened. There were voices coming from the upper rooms and the billiards room down the hall. The scents of magic and weargs lingered, but they were faint enough that Wesley could confirm they weren’t nearby. He drew in a longer breath. Something was missing that he couldn’t put his finger on. Shutting the door again, he locked it with a firm click and gave it a tug to show the colonel that it was shut. When Wesley met Roulet’s gaze, his eyes had lost their wild edge, but Wesley could still sense the wolf close to the surface.
“What is going on, Wesley?”
At the sound of his name, Wesley faltered before sitting in front of him. “We have reason to believe the other men aren’t werewolves. They’re a creature called a wearg.”
“A heoruwearg? That’s what you asked about before.”
“Yes. I had my suspicions at the beginning of the party that they weren’t werewolves.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
The note of pain in the other man’s voice caught in Wesley’s throat. “I thought they were delusional men. There are plenty of people who play act or perform pagan rituals in wolf skins. I thought perhaps that’s who they were. I could sense you were a wolf, too, but no, I didn’t sense it with them.”
“How do you know they’re weargs? Weargs are fantasy creatures, aren’t they? They’re folklore.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Magic like that isn’t real.”
“Sir, no disrespect, but that’s rich coming from a man who turns into a wolf.” Averting his eyes from the stricken look on the other man’s face, he continued, “Look, my job is to root out and get to the bottom of weird stuff like this. I work for Les Meutes and the Pinkertons, and my assignment was to see what was going on because there were reports of werewolf sightings in England after centuries of only whispers. Trust me when I say there are things in this world I wouldn’t believe exist, except that I’ve seen them, touched them, and nearly been eaten by them. Magic exists and it’s far scarier than you could imagine.”
Colonel Roulet swallowed hard before putting his head in his hands. “What have I brought into my home?”
“You didn’t know, but we can prepare ourselves now. They’re dangerous creatures, and I trust you to treat them as such. You are only as dangerous as you allow yourself to be. These things kill without mercy and have already.” The words hung in his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to say what he knew about Doughty and March. He didn’t need Roulet to break into a rage and do something stupid right now. “The crime I was falsely arrested for in London was a murder perpetrated by a beast. There were three prior crimes before that one, and I’m now certain they were committed by a wearg.”
Roulet reached for the decanter but thought better of it. “What do I do now? They want to overturn the government. If someone finds out I’m connected to any of this, they’ll put me to death. Caroline will— I need to get Caroline out. We need to warn someone.”
“We will, but not now. If we make a move now, we will be exposed. We’ve been lucky so far. They aren’t werewolves, and their senses aren’t nearly as keen,” he said, motioning toward the sound of billiard balls clacking. “Tonight, I want you to stay with your wife. Do nothing to show that we’re going to falter, but arm her. I assume you still have a service revolver somewhere. If not, I can lend you mine.”
“That won’t be necessary. I still have it.”
“Tell her enough to keep her safe but not enough to make her become a liability. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “Caroline can handle it. She’s seen me turn into a wolf. Little frightens her now.” Releasing a tired laugh against his will, a smile crept across Roulet’s features. “I will speak with her and tell her she was right. This whole party was a terrible idea.”
Wesley stood in time with the colonel and followed him to the door. When the man reached to open it, Wesley said, “I promise you that we will put this to rights. I’m not letting either of us go to gaol, Colonel.”
The colonel looked at Wesley for a long moment. “You’re a good man, Bisclavret. I wish I had met you first. If I had, I never would have sought the others out.”
“How did you find them?”
“I didn’t. Elsworth found me. I got a letter after buying St. Herve, but I think it came from buying all the books. I bought a lot of Medieval books in Scotland. The letter asking if I was one of them came a few weeks later.”
“May I see these books?”
“Here.” Unlocking his desk drawer, he handed Wesley a small key on a ribbon. “It unlocks the cabinet in the library. The books are on the bottom shelf to the left. The bindings are dry rotted on some of them, so handle them with care. I’m going to see to Caroline.”
With a final clap on the shoulder, Colonel Roulet left Wesley in the empty hall. Following the scent of food and cleaning tonics, Wesley slipped into the servants’ quarters. Roulet had said his staff lived in cottages on the property, so Wesley didn’t have to fear someone would walk in as he disrobed. Fashioning his clothing into a makeshift collar tied with a key, Wesley let the wolf pull him under and disappeared into the night.
Chapter Twenty
Secrets and Confessions
Staring at the fabric canopy, Emmeline tried to block out the presence beside her bed and finally get some sleep. No matter how long she closed her eyes, she couldn’t sleep. Her mind kept swinging back to Nadir Talbot’s form despite that he hadn’t made any more noise than the occasional sigh or shuffle of fabric.
“Nadir, are you asleep?” she asked before she realized she had said it aloud.
“Sort of. Why?” he murmured with a stretching grunt.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Not as much as I should be. I mean, I am. I just…”
She just what? She wanted to talk. She wanted to tell him so many things she had never told anyone before. Perhaps she was just tired and should go to sleep, but Nadir had become so much more than she had intended.
“I never would have imagined being here with you.”
“What? Do you mean being in a house infested with monsters or just sharing a room?”
“Neither. I just mean being here with you.” She laughed and threw an arm over her face. Oh god, this was painful. “I was so enamored the first time I met you that I could barely speak. When I saw you walk into the Spiritualist Society and realized I was the one giving your cousin’s reading, I had to step away and calm down.”
The boards beneath Nadir’s makes
hift bed creaked as he sat up. Emmeline could feel his gaze on her and imagined his amused grin through her eyelids.
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did. I was beside myself.”
“I can’t believe you never told me. I didn’t think you had read any of my books. Which have you read?”
When she didn’t respond, his hand gently snaked around her wrist and lifted her arm until her face was visible. Her cheeks heated at his narrowed eyes and lopsided grin. She couldn’t look at him without feeling a giddy laugh forcing its way up her throat.
“Come on, out with it. What book?”
“All of them,” she replied pulling her hands over her face.
“All of them?”
Emmeline nodded. “I read all of them when I moved in with my aunt and uncle. Lady Dorset’s brother brought me some books to read. You’re a favorite of his, you know.”
“I know. I signed a copy of Lotus on the Nile for him.”
“Well, a lot of those books were yours. It hadn’t been long since my mother died, and your books made me feel like anything was possible. The women in your stories do things, they get love and power, and they did what I wished I could have done, what I wish I could do now.”
“What you are doing now.” Watching her from beside the bed with his head cocked, Nadir’s eyes roved over her face in the dark. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
She released a tired laugh. “When I saw you in Europe, I was tempted. I had one of your books with me, but I was afraid to. I didn’t want you to get annoyed at me and leave. Then, when I got to know you, it seemed too late, and I didn’t want you to think I was silly or that I was spending time with you for your celebrity.”
Nadir scoffed. “My celebrity. That is the last reason I would think you of all people would want my attention.”
“I couldn’t believe you liked me. Nadir Talbot, my favorite author, is my friend. I thought it must be a mistake. Then you showed up with flowers and books, and—” Meeting his gaze in the dark, Emmeline drifted to his lips and swallowed. The words came out as a rasp. “I still don’t understand why me.”
“Neither do I,” he replied, his voice a warm whisper in the dark. “I like interesting people, and you’re a mystery wrapped in an enigma. To this day, I have no idea what will come out of your mouth. You can be feisty, take-charge, bordering on outlandish at times, but even if you don’t like to show it, you’re a good person. Even if you can cut to the quick sometimes.”
I’m not, she wanted to say. Biting her lip, she suppressed the urge to tell him all the awful things she had done and said since her mother’s death. She hoped he would take her silence as modesty or awkwardness and not press her. When he rested his head against the side of the mattress and closed his eyes, she released a tight breath.
“The Queen’s Heir is my favorite,” she said to the ceiling. “I’ve read it so many times, I could probably recite whole passages.”
“Really? That isn’t within the top three I thought you would like. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to ask you to read my manuscript to see what you thought?”
“Probably as many times as I’ve wanted to ask to see it.”
Emmeline bit back a smile at the thought of getting her hands on Nadir’s story before anyone else could see it. She would be the first to read the next Talbot novel. To most that would be of no importance, but she would have to stitch her own mouth shut to keep from telling everyone about it.
“Then, if we get out of this in one piece, I will give it to you. I would appreciate your opinion before I give it to my editor.” The mattress shifted beneath his back. “I still can’t believe you have read them all.”
“Every last one.” Nibbling her lip, Emmeline debated what she wanted to say. What was the etiquette for something like this? “I read the other three, too.”
For a long moment, Nadir Talbot remained silent, but she could feel his eyes on her. He was appraising or reappraising her now that he knew, though he should have suspected she would have read explicit books. She was moving among the Aesthetes after all; it was hardly uncommon.
“How did you know I wrote those?”
“Ned Faroh wasn’t exactly subtle if someone knows you like I do. Honestly though, it was your writing that gave you away. I’ve read The Queen’s Heir so many times that The Lily and the Pearl just felt like you. There was something about it that made me think it was you. Then, I read it again and compared some of the phrasing and the timeline of when they were published. The last two were during gaps between your books. Are you writing a lewd book right now?”
“I—” Nadir opened his mouth to speak but fell into laughter. “Of course you read the erotic books, too. Oh, god, I never expected that. No one besides you has ever admitted to reading them. At least not to my face. I don’t know if I can ever look you in the eye again.”
“I still can’t believe you used Faroh. Why didn’t you just call him Ned Egypt while you were at it? Despite the awful pseudonym, I thought your lewd books were very good. I enjoyed them immensely.”
“I’m scared to ask, but what was your favorite?”
“Well, I’m partial to The Lily and the Pearl, though The Gilded Sphynx was enlightening in some areas. My favorite passage of all of them was page 164 of The Lily and the Pearl. I think I read that page at least twenty times.”
“Is that the scene at the hot spring?”
“Yes,” she replied sheepishly, her cheeks reddening.
“Really? I was curious what a woman would think of that scene, but I was afraid to ask for an opinion on the matter.”
“My copy opens to that page now.”
Nadir laughed again, the sound high and clear in the nighttime stillness. “I have learned so much about you tonight that I don’t know what to do with it all. I still can’t believe you read my books and I had no idea. What am I going to do with this information?”
“You are going to take your blankets and come sleep up on the bed next to me because I’m sick of talking over the side of the bed.”
Sitting back on his heels, Nadir gave her a questioning look. In the moonlight, his gaze was soft and his skin luminous. Clearing her throat, she wriggled further to the other side of the mattress.
“I can’t stand the thought of you sleeping on the cold floor and being nibbled by mice. While I’m not fond of sharing, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Tonight. Tomorrow, you’re on your own,” she replied, nestling deeper into the covers.
“Are you certain?”
Nodding, Emmeline raised the edge of the blanket for him to slide under. He cast her one more hesitant glance before the mattress dipped under his added weight and Emmeline had to scramble back to not roll into the depression. Heat radiated off of him, prickling along her skin and concentrating in her palms. The effect he had on her magic was aggravating. Even though they weren’t touching, she could still feel his presence loudly at her back. Below, she could sense the lingering afterimage of the spirits in the crypt. When he was close, it was as if someone had cranked her powers up to their highest levels, yet her walls remained. Was it just him or was it anyone she was drawn to? She certainly didn’t feel this way around Lord Hale, and when she was with Mrs. Richmond, she had barely paid her magic any mind until they parted ways.
As Nadir settled in behind her, Emmeline tried to close her eyes and pay him no mind. She didn’t want to think about the kiss they had shared in the hall and in the passage to the crypt. She didn’t want to imagine his firm grip on her back or the way his hair tickled her face as they parted for breath. Pushing away the sensations, Emmeline opened her eyes and stared hard at the wall until the feeling in her abdomen ceased. Apparently he heightened other sensations as well. Slowly turning until she faced toward him, Emmeline was surprised to find she was looking at his back. Part of her wanted to slide closer to him until their bodies touched. She imagined how warm he would be, how solid, but she couldn’t do it.
“How did you get
the scar on your arm?” she asked softly, almost hoping he was asleep.
Rolling over, he sighed and looked at her through one eye. “I thought you said you weren’t going to look.”
“You said you didn’t care if I did or didn’t, so I did both.”
Nadir puffed out a breath. “Of course you did.” He watched her face for something, and in the silence, Emmeline feared he wouldn’t speak or when he did, it would be to change the subject. Instead he took her hand and slipped it inside his robe. He guided her to the ropey scar on his left shoulder, which felt oddly smooth yet she could make out the cord of tissue beneath it.
“It’s a bullet wound.”
Emmeline accidentally jerked her hand back in alarm but quickly put her hand back on the smooth flesh of his arm. “Why did you never tell me? Were you in the army? I don’t remember hearing that you were in a duel.”
“That’s because I wasn’t. Guns are a coward’s weapon, anyway. You know that trial I was a part of, the one where I was accused of murder? Lord and Lady Dorset were called as witnesses to clear me.”
Emmeline had heard about it secondhand from her aunt and uncle’s conversations. Some relation had supposedly been murdered, so Lord and Lady Dorset stayed in Folkesbury at the earl’s ancestral home until the trial and inquest were over. She had also heard the rumors that Nadir Talbot had been a murderer. That he had killed a man in cold blood to maintain his cousin’s virtue, which was why she now lived with him despite having a husband. All of it was preposterous. She could barely imagine him wielding his sword cane, let alone killing anyone.
“Vaguely, why?”
“The man who was eventually convicted shot at me. He hit me twice. That just happens to be the ugliest scar he gave me. I was picking splinters out of my arm and side for a week.”
“Where’s the other one?”
Gingerly taking her wrist, he manipulated her hand until she reached out with two straight fingers. He carefully pulled his hair back with one hand while sliding her fingers along his scalp above his ear with the others. Beneath her fingertips, Emmeline could feel the faint outline of a narrow, hairless scar.
The Wolf Witch Page 21