Wolf Who Loved Me

by Lydia Dare

  ***

  Maddie found herself furious with Sophie most of the day. How dare her friend abandon her to a castle full of men with more hair than wit? She’d had to suffer a stroll in the garden with the Earl of Steadham who seemed incapable of answering a question using more than one syllable. Then she’d once again been placed beside the strange Earl of Gelligaer at dinner. And she’d been forced to play the pianoforte for the gentlemen who were not interested in playing whist with her brothers and Mr. Hadley. She hadn’t even had Grandmamma’s reliable acidic tongue to rely on, as the duchess had taken to her bed with a fever that afternoon.

  No. Maddie had been completely alone in a castle full of… what had Nathaniel called them? Ah yes, sycophants angling for her hand.

  If only Sophie hadn’t taken up residence at Eynsford Park, this abysmal excuse for a house party could have been bearable. Well, almost. Some people simply weren’t to be tolerated, and Castle Hythe was filled to the brim with them at the moment.

  Maddie couldn’t have excused herself and escaped to the safety of her room any faster if she’d sprouted wings and flown there. But when she reached her chambers, she found herself doing nothing more than pacing, which did nothing to calm her nerves. After the hundredth pass across her Aubusson rug, she decided a change in scenery was needed. A change of scenery or she’d wear a hole in her floor.

  Soon she found herself in the gallery, staring at various portraits of the late Dukes and Duchesses of Hythe. She gazed up at the oldest portrait in the hall, which was of the very first Duke of Hythe. The depiction showed the stoic eleventh-century knight who had crossed the channel along with his good friend William the Conqueror. Tales of the first duke’s loyalty and bravery on the battlefield had been passed from one generation to the next. As children, Robert and Nathaniel had brandished wooden swords and taken turns pretending to be their great ancestor. Such simpler times, when they were children.

  She left the first duke and made her way down the gallery, finally stopping at her grandfather’s portrait. Maddie sighed at the sight of him, strong and virile but relaxed in a chair the color of deep claret. How she missed Grandpapa. Kind and gentle, the exact opposite of Grandmamma in so many ways. “I do wish you were here,” she muttered to the painting.

  If he was there, she could just imagine the guidance he’d give. Before you can decide what to do, you need to know where you are. She’d heard him offer that same advice to Nathaniel countless times.

  So where was she? Maddie began to tick her thoughts off on her fingers.

  One: She was all alone now that Sophie had taken employment at Eynsford Park. Maddie certainly couldn’t trouble Sophie with her problems when her friend had so many of her own.

  Two: Her father had her ensconced in a household of men who wanted nothing more than her fortune. Although with the way Lord Chilcombe’s gaze raked across her breasts every time he spoke to her, he obviously wanted more than just her money. The very thought made her want to cast up her accounts.

  Three: Lord Gelligaer made her more uneasy than anyone at the castle. Also, he was clearly not favored well by Mr. Hadley, and Maddie’s intuition told her Mr. Hadley knew something fairly disturbing about the Welshman. Whatever the secret was, Maddie needed to learn of it if she was to convince her father to scratch the earl off his list of potential suitors. How could she get Mr. Hadley to divulge such information?

  “You would know what to do,” she said to her grandfather’s image. “Of course, you wouldn’t have put me in this situation to begin with.”

  Maddie crossed to the row of windows lining the gallery and gazed out at the full moon, which sat low in the sky. Night had barely fallen and shadows hung like heavy veils over the spacious land below. But then she noticed a glowing ember as it moved across a stone path toward the stables. A cheroot, perhaps? It had to be, but the stable hands knew better than to smoke near the stables. Grandmamma had put the fear of God in them about such behavior soon after the stables at Eynsford Park went up in a blaze.

  Maddie strained her eyes to see the culprit and gasped as the cheroot-smoking gentleman stepped from the shadows into a spot of moonlight. His hair glimmered like freshly polished brass in the darkness.

  Think of the devil!

  Mr. Hadley tossed the cheroot to the ground and crushed it with his boot heel. He turned his face up to the moon and spread his arms. His strong jaw and broad shoulders were made even more prominent by the deep shadows. But then Mr. Hadley spun quickly to face the other direction.

  Another man approached, drenched in shadows, and Mr. Hadley took a step back, raising his hands to fend off the interloper. There was something odd about the interaction, almost as though Mr. Hadley was trying to appease his companion. If only she could recognize the other fellow!

  Her own gasp broke the silence of the gallery when Mr. Hadley ducked to avoid the stranger’s fist. Mr. Hadley was quick, however, and the other man simply stumbled forward.

  Good heavens! Maddie pressed her face closer to the window, trying to make certain Mr. Hadley hadn’t been hurt, but he seemed no worse for wear. In fact, he even smiled at his foe in an obvious attempt to calm him. But then the stranger swung his fist again. This time, Mr. Hadley blocked the blow with his forearm and landed a punch solidly across the man’s jaw. The fellow, whoever he was, sank like an anvil dropped from a great height. Mr. Hadley glanced around cautiously, as though making certain no one had seen the altercation.

  Then he bent and hoisted the man over his shoulder with what appeared to be no effort at all. Maddie had no idea how strong Mr. Hadley was, but he seemed not to even notice the weight of the other fellow. She strained again, trying to see the unconscious man’s face, but he was hidden well by Mr. Hadley’s broad form before they disappeared into the shadows once again.

  Where on earth was he going?

  Perhaps he meant to dispose of his foe and return to the others playing cards. Perhaps this was exactly the kind of leverage she needed to persuade Mr. Hadley to tell her the truth about Lord Gelligaer. She just needed to reach him before he rejoined the others.

  Maddie bolted from the gallery and down a flight of stone steps, not stopping until she reached the drawing room where her brothers were entertaining their guests with whist.

  As she stood sentry, waiting for Mr. Hadley to make his appearance, Robert stepped out of the room and scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be down here.”

  Why did she have to run into Robert? Nathaniel wouldn’t have barked at her as soon as he laid eyes on her. “I live here. Besides, the last time I was addressed on the matter, this house party was for me.” She purposefully raised her nose in the air.

  “And you were dismissed from your duties as hostess two hours ago. Since you were, many of these men are no longer fit company for you. Not tonight.” He turned her by her shoulders and gave her a small push. “Go to bed.”

  “But,” she began, feeling as ineffectual as a child.

  “But, nothing,” Robert scolded. “If you go in there, I’ll be forced to defend your honor when one of them makes a wrong move. You don’t want my death on your head, do you?”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “I could only be so fortunate,” she replied, refusing to budge. “Mr. Hadley,” she started. “I saw him—”

  “You would do well to stay clear of him.” Robert narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t fancy Hadley, do you, Maddie?”

  How ridiculous. Of course, she didn’t. “Is he still here?”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Tell me I’m not going to have call out a good friend, Madeline.”

  “What question?” Honestly, did Robert ever make any sense?

  “Weston Hadley. Tell me you don’t fancy him.”

  Maddie scoffed. “Don’t be a fool, Robert. I only wished to speak with him.” Perhaps blackmail him into giving her needed information.

  “About?” Her brother seemed less than convinced, which was more than a little maddening.

  She certain
ly wasn’t going to tell Robert what she wanted with Mr. Hadley. “Sophie, if you must know.” Maddie waited until her brother winced to continue. “I simply wanted to make certain she was getting along well at Eynsford Park after being treated so shabbily here.”

  She hit her target rather well and Robert took a step back toward the drawing room, recoiling from her unspoken accusation.

  “Has Mr. Hadley left for the evening?” Maddie pressed.

  Robert nodded sullenly. “Yes, and none too soon. He took Chilcombe for all he’s worth. Hope he makes it home without being accosted.”

  Chilcombe. Was that who she’d seen Mr. Hadley haul into the darkness? And all on account of card playing? And Mr. Hadley hadn’t returned. What on earth would he do with the earl? And which one should she worry about?

  Lord Chilcombe appeared to be unconscious, heaven knew where. But in her heart, she was much more concerned about Mr. Hadley, should anyone discover he’d clocked the earl after fleecing him, to use Nathaniel’s words. After all, it was no secret that Mr. Hadley wasn’t regarded well by the gentlemen of her father’s house party. In fact, all the Hadleys, including Lord Radbourne, were bad ton. They were marginally accepted at functions because of Lady Eynsford’s devotion to the trio, but something of this nature could destroy what shred of goodwill the Hadleys still maintained in society.

  “I suppose I’ll have to ask him tomorrow then,” Maddie mumbled, then started back in the direction from which she’d come.

  As soon as she was certain Robert had returned to their guests in the drawing room, Maddie bolted around a corner toward the garden entrance, thankful her kid slippers made no sound. She rushed outside into the chilly garden and started toward the last place she’d seen Mr. Hadley from the gallery window, the path leading to the stables. Perhaps he was still there.

  Maddie lifted the hem of her skirts and dashed across the dew-dampened ground, lit by the full moon above, and didn’t stop until she reached the stables, which were mercifully void of any grooms at the moment. Of course, the houseguests were so deep in their cups that not a single one of them would be calling for a mount any time soon.

  As soon as Maddie reached the stables, the odor of horses and hay hit her nose like rancid smelling salts. The darkness pressed in around her like a heavy counterpane. Not a single light broke the quiet night, but then a match flared as she heard someone shuffle. Maddie stepped farther into the shadows and pressed her back against the wall.

  Seven

  Wes cursed loudly as he dropped Chilcombe’s inert body to the stable floor and looked around the cavernous room. Over the past few days, he’d daydreamed of ridding England of the obnoxious gentleman, but he hadn’t planned to have to haul the earl’s body around on the night of the full moon. Already, the power of the moon tugged at his senses. His ears itched to elongate and his snout tingled, anxious to grow long and pointy.

  Typically, Wes loved the pain of changing, but tonight, he’d lingered a bit too long beyond nightfall. But he’d figured that arrogant earl and his inept partner couldn’t possibly have better cards than his or Lavendon’s. The earl certainly hadn’t had one all night. Wes hoisted Chilcombe beneath his arms and dragged his body into a stall. The earl would remember Wes hitting him in the morning and then there would be hell to pay, if not from Chilcombe then from Dash when he learned of the altercation.

  As Wes straightened and stepped from the stall, the itch of his ears and the tingle of his nose turned to an ache. The moon would take him whether he wanted it to or not. He unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it from his shoulders. Then he proceeded to disrobe right there in the stables. After all, where else could he go? He’d waited too long to leave as it was. Wes folded his clothes and tucked them into the corner of a stall. He’d come back for them in the morning.

  A shaft of moonlight filtered in through the loft and Wes stepped into it, allowing the moonbeams to caress his naked body. The shift from man to beast began, claiming all of his attention. It wasn’t until he stood on four feet that he looked up and saw her standing there in the shadows. Her face was as pale as the moon, and she’d certainly fall over from the lack of air in her lungs any moment if she didn’t run screaming first. It was too bad she chose the latter.

  Lady Madeline didn’t just scream. She had to scream loudly enough to shake the rafters and wake anyone in Kent who was sleeping. The horses in the stalls began to shuffle and prance, the noise was so deafening. It made his own sensitive ears hurt from the very shrillness of it. He approached her slowly, wishing with all his heart that he could say something to calm her.

  She backed toward the door and leaned heavily against it, then cursed beneath her breath when it didn’t open at her frantic shove. Who’d have thought such a delicate lady could have such a curse word in the recesses of her mind, waiting for the day she’d have cause to use it? Planted there for the very day she met a Lycan like him. Wes snorted.

  She held up one hand out in front of her, as though she could will him away with just that simple gesture. On a normal day, she probably could. But not today. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she groped behind her for the door handle.

  I won’t hurt you, he wanted to say. I’ll explain everything as soon as the moon recedes and the sun comes up. I promise. Not that the truth would put her any more at ease.

  A little squeak left her throat as he took a step closer, and her hand on the handle became more frantic. Thank God that door was too heavy for such a little slip of a lady to push it open. Then he heard the latch click and cringed. Tiny Lady Madeline shoved with all her might and tumbled backward out of the door. She landed in a heap of skirts and immediately jumped to her feet. He wanted to call to her, to tell her not to panic. But he was a Lycan, for God’s sake. He walked on four feet. He had no voice. He had no way to soothe her. If he was on two feet, he could grab her in his arms. He’d hold her and tell her everything would be all right.

  He’d never felt more helpless in his life.

  She took two quick steps back and he stepped forward. She cringed and cried out. Then she turned on her heel and ran. Oh, blast and damn. Of course, she’d run. This had to be difficult. He couldn’t call out to her. He couldn’t do anything. But one thing he absolutely could not do was allow her to go back to the castle. One word of what she’d just witnessed would put his entire family in danger. In fact, just being out in the open the way they were was dangerous enough. Someone else could see them, come to her rescue. Then he’d be done for.

  Wes went after her, hoping to stop her before she could reach the castle.

  She tripped on the hem of her dress and tumbled to her bottom. What a stroke of luck for Wes, though he hated to see her in such a state. He stood before her on four legs when a heavy drop of rain landed on the top of his head. Wes glanced up at the moon that had winked at him so playfully only a half hour before to find it was now obscured by dark clouds. Dark clouds that intended to open up and drench them any moment.

  Lady Madeline swiped a drop of rain from her cheek. Or was that a tear? Good God, he’d never forgive himself if that was a tear. Wes sat down and tilted his head, watching her quietly. Perhaps if he sat very still, she’d calm and he could… He could what? He could send her mental messages? Pigs would sooner fly. The only mental message she got from him was that he was a dangerous wolf. Wes snorted again.

  The sound must have frightened her, because she scrambled back to her feet and bolted for the castle, screaming once more. Wes quickly outpaced her, thank God, and he circled around her like the best little herding dog there ever was. She stopped when he got in front of her. He couldn’t allow her to reach the castle. One of two things would happen if he did—either she’d be called the worst sort of idiot or they’d send a watch out to find the rabid wolf that threatened the lady. Neither of those scenarios was acceptable.

  “P-please.” She took an awkward step toward the castle.

  Wes growled low in his throat. What else was he t
o do? He was a wolf, for Christ’s sake. Never had life been more unkind. She stopped where she stood. Keeping a wary eye on him, she tried another hesitant step. He growled again and she halted once more.

  Her gaze flashed toward the castle when he heard a rustling by the garden gate. “Did you hear something?” a voice asked. Gelligaer.

  Oh, damn it to hell! Curse his bad fortune. If Wes wasn’t in Lycan form, he’d drop his head in his hands and sob. As it was, all he could do was whimper. Lady Madeline’s eyebrows pushed together at the noise. Wonderful. She even sent him curious glares when he was a bloody wolf.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” answered another voice from the garden.

  Lady Madeline opened her mouth to call out, but Wes couldn’t allow that, could he? He growled low in his throat, advancing upon her until her lovely peach skin turned pale white with fear.

  The footsteps from the garden grew closer.

  Lady Madeline inhaled deeply, as though she wanted to scream but couldn’t find her voice. Another menacing growl escaped Wes, one that caused the lady to pale even further. But at least she closed her mouth.

  The voices moved even closer. What the devil was Wes to do now? He couldn’t leave her for Gelligaer and his companion to find, not when she knew Wes’ secret. She’d put his entire family in jeopardy if she blathered about it.

  He could knock her down and drag her into the safety of the forest. But that would be a most ungentlemanly move. He couldn’t imagine getting Lady Madeline dirty, for God’s sake. She was always perfect, although she looked a little bedraggled at the moment, with her hair soaked from what was now a pouring rain. He could do it with ease, but the very thought of knocking her off her feet made his heart hurt.

  Instead, Wes did what came naturally. He raised his tail, postured, and growled. He slowly walked toward her, forcing himself to make his steps measured and menacing. It was the furthest thing from what he’d ever imagined doing to her. But his desperation from this dreadful situation left him little choice. Wes growled his most menacing growl and raised his lip. She looked like she would swoon any moment. God, he hated this, but even through the rain, Gelligaer was approaching them. Wes snapped his teeth at her, the clatter surprising even him.