Big Bad Wolf

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “I have what’s considered a small but growing fortune. An estate, a flourishing and expanding business. Surely I need someone to leave it all to when I’m gone.”

  Molly tugged gently, trying to free herself, but Wolf held tight. She looked at his chest, because she couldn’t bear to look into those cold eyes right now.

  “I’m asking you to marry me, Red,” he snapped. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  Molly stopped struggling. “Marriage? You’re teasing me. Wolf, and it’s not fair.” She knew a man of Wolf’s status would never marry someone like her.

  “I’m perfectly serious.”

  When he was this close her heart beat furiously, and it was difficult to think clearly.

  “Think of it as a business arrangement,” he continued. “I’ll provide for your mother and your grandmother, just as I offered, and you’ll give me heirs.”

  She made herself look at his face, and she searched for a hint of emotion. There was none.

  “Why me?”

  His grip tightened slightly, and a look of pure impatience crossed his face. Had he expected that she would accept his offer without question, that she would fall at his feet in gratitude? If that were true, he didn’t know her at all.

  “There are several valid reasons, actually. You have a good nature, and I have no wish to be saddled with a demanding woman.”

  “That would be unfortunate,” Molly said dryly.

  “Yes.” Wolf narrowed his eyes. “There are other advantages as well, of course. When I’m in New York to take care of business, the society mamas who have been trying of late to foist their little girls on me will have no more reason to harass me.”

  “I see.”

  “You can stay at Vanora Point with the children when they come, and I will continue as I have for the past seven years, dividing my time between Maine and New York.”

  Molly took a deep breath. “You have this all thought out, but it seems any number of women would suit your stated purpose.” What did she want? A declaration of love? She knew that wouldn’t happen, but there had to be something more than this.

  Wolf dropped her wrist at last, and backed up a single step. He stared at her so hard she trembled, and she remembered the demanding kiss by the stream deep in the forest, the dreams of Wolf that had come to her for the past several nights. And she knew that no matter how she tried to deny it, she did love him.

  “I have a sudden hankering for redheaded children,” Wolf rumbled reluctantly.

  Finally, Molly was able to smile. Wolf would never admit it, but he did like her, a little, and he did want her, or at least he had that day in the forest when he’d kissed her.

  “Well?” he prodded impatiently. “Do you have an answer for me? I don’t have time to play games, Red. I have to be back in New York in ten days.”

  “That’s not much time . . . . ” Her smile died.

  “Yes or no.” Wolf demanded an answer.

  “It sounds like a negotiation.”

  “Marriage is business,” Wolf snapped. “It always has been.”

  Molly studied him silently for a long moment, wondering if there was love in his heart to be found. If it were there, it was buried deep, under years of hate and distrust.

  If anyone could find it, she could.

  “Yes or no.” Wolf’s teeth were clenched tight.

  “Yes,” Molly whispered.

  She expected that he would move forward and kiss her, but he stood his ground. “I’ll make the arrangements. We can be married at Vanora Point.”

  “I’ll need time to have a dress made,” Molly insisted. “I know exactly what I want, and Mr. McCann has everything I’ll need at his store.”

  “Have him send me the bill,” Wolf insisted. “Get whatever you want.”

  “I have a little money saved. I can buy my own —”

  “Have Mr. McCann send me the bill, Red. Don’t be difficult.”

  Molly smiled. “I forgot. You don’t like demanding women.”

  “Three days,” Wolf snapped, ignoring her jibe. “We’ll be married at the house.”

  “Three days! That’s not enough time!”

  “It’ll have to be. Invite whomever you wish, but please advise your frail and sickly grandmother to leave her weapons at home.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Molly promised, keeping her voice calm.

  When the deal was made, Wolf was finished with her. He turned to his horse, dismissing Molly easily, and mounted without so much as a glance at her before heading back the way he’d come. So distant, so nonchalant. Molly stood and watched him ride away.

  Married to Wolf Trevelyan! It didn’t really matter that he was indifferent about their plans, that he rode away without a smile or a wave or a kind word. There was love in his heart. She knew it.

  “Turn around,” she whispered to herself. “Just once.”

  He presented a stiff back to her, and still she waited. He did care. If he was only interested in preserving the Trevelyan name, he could have married any of a number of more suitable women.

  “Turn around,” she breathed.

  Just as she was about to give up on him, Wolf glanced sullenly over his shoulder.

  Molly turned from him with a smile on her face. Goodness! Married to Wolf Trevelyan!

  The remainder of the walk to Grandma’s house flew by, as Molly’s head was filled with images of her life with Wolf. Of their wedding, and the redheaded children he had a sudden hankering for.

  But when she saw Grandma’s house, her smile died. She was the only one who was going to be happy about this wedding.

  Grandma was happy to see her, as always, and even greeted Molly with more energy that she’d been displaying lately. It was only fitting that Grandma Kincaid be the first to know.

  “I have something to tell you,” Molly said as she emptied the contents of the basket onto the table. “Something very important.”

  When the basket was empty and sitting at her feet, Molly turned to her grandmother. “I’m getting married.”

  Grandma’s eyes lit up, sparkled merrily. “And it’s about time, child. Who’s the lucky young man?”

  Molly took a deep breath, preparing herself for the assault that was, no doubt, to come. “Wolf Trevelyan.”

  Grandma’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. “Not him. Saints preserve us, tell me you’re not marrying Wolf Trevelyan.”

  “I love him,” Molly said softly.

  “That’s terrible.” Grandma emphasized her opinion with the rap of her cane against the floor.

  “I think it’s wonderful.”

  Grandma gripped her hand tightly. “But he doesn’t love you. He can’t. I tell you, Molly, a man like that is incapable of love.”

  Was it true? Wolf had never spoken of love, but that didn’t mean he would never feel the emotion.

  “Well then, he needs someone to love him more than most, wouldn’t you say?” Molly decided not to tell Grandma just yet about the stipend or the live-in companion. She would think that Molly was only marrying Wolf to see her family taken care of, and that wasn’t the case. Not at all. “You told me, in case you don’t remember, that you didn’t love Grandpa when you married him, that the love came later.”

  “That was different,” Grandma grumbled. “And don’t be turning my own words back on me.”

  “Won’t you wish us happiness?”

  Grandma sighed, and the fingers that gripped Molly’s hand loosened greatly. “You deserve the best of everything. Of course I wish you happiness, but you must think this over carefully. Won’t you reconsider?”

  “No,” Molly answered with certainty. “This is what I want.”

  It was much more than that. It was everything she had always wanted, and more.

  She would love Wolf, and give him redheaded children, and one day . . . one day he would return that love.

  Wolf stared at the papers before him, figures he should be studying, but he couldn’t make his mind focus on the
numbers. All around him, the house was alive. There was an incredible amount of activity in the kitchen, and Larkin had been bustling in and out all day.

  Wolf had managed to throw the household into turmoil, with his simple and unemotional revelation. Even the staid Larkin had appeared to be surprised when Wolf made the announcement.

  Surprised because he was getting married, or because Wolf Trevelyan had found a woman who would have him, he didn’t know.

  Since his marriage proposal and Molly’s acceptance, Wolf had remained surprisingly calm. The disorder in the normally quiet house was not at all disturbing, and he hadn’t been plagued by a single doubt.

  He had nothing to lose in this arrangement.

  He wanted Molly, and soon he would have her. When he was tired of married life and his redheaded wife, he would return to New York and the extravagant bachelor life he had enjoyed for years.

  It was a brilliant solution, and he’d congratulated himself several times for thinking of it. With Molly at Vanora Point, and his business and social life in New York, he would have the best of both worlds.

  Marriage, without any real ties. A wife and children he could see when it suited him, and leave behind when they bored him.

  He heard the humming coming from the parlor, but paid no attention as he walked down the hallway from his study.

  Larkin had arranged everything. The minister, the license, the food that was — for some reason Wolf did not comprehend — required. Weddings and funerals were celebrated in much the same way, he’d noticed.

  Wolf stopped as he passed the opened parlor door.

  The maid was hanging ribbons from an arched trellis that had been placed in the center of the room and behind a raised dais. She hummed softly, something bright, as she fussed with a bow that was, evidently, not quite to her satisfaction.

  Wolf didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. It was a simple ceremony. All they really needed was the minister and a witness or two.

  Women were such sentimental fools.

  The maid turned and stooped down to catch another ribbon between her fingers, and when she rose she saw him standing there. The ribbon flew from her hands, and she squealed shrilly, as she often did when she caught sight of him unexpectedly.

  “I’m sorry sir,” she said breathlessly. “You took me by surprise.”

  She never actually looked at him, if she could help it. Her gaze was locked somewhere above his head, and her hands trembled visibly.

  This was the reaction he usually got when he was in Maine. Terror. The maid was a young girl, and not particularly pretty but not ugly either. It wasn’t just the sight of a man that sent her into this panic, it was the specific sight of her employer.

  He should fire her, but it would be damned inconvenient to replace her at this particular time.

  “Carry on,” he instructed with a wave of his hand, but he didn’t move. The girl retrieved her ribbon and tried, with shaking hands, to tie a bow to match the ones she’d already done. This time she didn’t hum, and the bow she fashioned was lopsided.

  Every three seconds or so the fidgeting maid glanced over her shoulder warily, and so briefly it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck when she snapped her head to the front again.

  Oh, well, when he returned to New York Molly could do as she wished with the staff. She might want to expand it, or to let the lot of them go and hire her own servants. If she wanted a staff of fifty servants, he would see that she had it.

  Wolf actually found himself smiling as he walked away from the parlor where he’d be married in less than twenty-four hours.

  The transformation itself would be fascinating to watch, he was certain. He would watch with great pleasure as Molly Kincaid, simple, hardworking girl, became Molly Trevelyan, rich woman of leisure. Someone else would bake her bread and wash her laundry and clean her home. She would sleep all day if she wished, and fill her leisure time with trivial and pleasurable pursuits befitting a Trevelyan.

  Her only duty would be to satisfy him.

  Chapter Seven

  People cried at weddings all the time, but not like this. Molly looked straight ahead at the preacher, who spoke in a monotone, but she couldn’t ignore the wailing that continued ceaselessly behind her.

  The parlor of the mansion at Vanora Point had been sparsely decorated with beribboned vases of roses in red and pink and white. Molly and her groom stood upon a raised platform that was cushioned with a plush rug, and an arch that had been decorated with ribbons that matched the flowers curved above their heads. Several chairs had been set up behind the makeshift altar, but there were only a few guests.

  It was her mother who wailed so loudly, and Grandma’s sniffles were unmistakable. Except for Mr. Hanson, who had escorted the Kincaid women to Vanora Point and would take Mary and Nelda home, the only other witnesses were Wolf’s servants.

  Wolf was wonderfully handsome in his formal black suit and starched white shirt, even though his face had remained emotionless and even cold. Molly reminded herself that to Wolf, this was still strictly business.

  She much preferred the wicked smile and more relaxed stance of the Wolf she’d met in the forest, but the well-dressed and refined man who was her groom had his own charm. No elegant suit of clothes could disguise the strength she’d felt in his arms, or contain the energy he radiated even now.

  Molly was wearing the wedding dress she’d always dreamed of. It was white satin, with pearls and lace and a skirt full enough to thoroughly cover a good-sized ottoman. The sleeves were full, but not grotesquely so, and white silk flowers to match the ones in her hair were fastened to the waist.

  It had been her grandmother, in the end, who had fashioned her hair atop her head. They’d been trying for an austere style, but several strands had already escaped and curled over her shoulder and down her back. Before Grandma had taken over, Mary Kincaid had tried to secure Molly’s hair for her — declaring it a mother’s duty — but her hands shook horribly, she cried so hard.

  Molly had told them of Wolf’s offer, and they thought she was sacrificing herself for their sakes. Nothing she said would change their minds. They trembled when she told them she loved Wolf, and then they reminded her of his first wife’s death. On this one point they finally agreed. Nelda and Mary Kincaid had never, that Molly could remember, agreed on anything.

  They reminded her again and again of the fate of the first Mrs. Wolf Trevelyan, until Molly forbid them to speak of it. It was the only time in her life she’d forbid anything, and she’d been rather surprised to find it so effective.

  Molly smiled as Wolf took her hand and slipped a ring onto her finger. It wasn’t a plain gold band, but a cluster of sapphires and diamonds in a gold setting. His mother’s, he’d said. There had been no time to have rings specially made, though he’d promised her any sort of ring she desired. He’d have it made in New York.

  Looking down at her hand as Wolf placed the ring on her finger, Molly was perfectly satisfied. She didn’t need or want any ring but this one. The one he promised his life with.

  Everything was grand, but it would be nice if the groom would smile, just a little.

  When the preacher pronounced them man and wife, Mary Kincaid sobbed loudly, and Wolf closed his eyes. This had been an ordeal for him, Molly knew. Subjecting himself to in-laws who openly detested him. Holding his temper. She had an urge to take his hand and comfort him, to thank him for his patience. It couldn’t be pleasant to have your bride’s relatives wailing in the background.

  The preacher’s solemnly spoken, “You may kiss the bride,” brought a new howl, which Molly ignored as she leaned forward to accept her first kiss as Wolf’s wife.

  For a moment she thought Wolf would refuse to kiss her. He hesitated before lowering his lips to hers, and when he did finally place his lips against her mouth it was not in a burning kiss like the price he’d demanded in the forest, but rather a cool brush of his lips against hers. She felt a touch of comfort in his mouth on hers, but
it was short-lived and passionless.

  When he pulled away from her she searched his hooded eyes for a clue to his thoughts. In spite of the fact that this marriage was a business deal to him, she wanted to see some joy in his eyes. There was none.

  The magnificent wedding feast went all but untouched. Only Mr. Hanson and the preacher seemed to enjoy the sumptuous spread. Molly was much too nervous to eat, and Wolf was apparently too angry. Mary Kincaid wouldn’t stop crying long enough to take even a bite, and Grandma was just being stubborn, through her own sniffles. Molly couldn’t help but notice that Wolf gave Grandma and her ever-present cane a wide berth.

  Molly had invited no one else. Her friends from Kingsport, especially Hannah and Stella, had been as horrified upon hearing the news as her small family had been, and she would have none of that distrust and anger in Wolf’s own home. There would be no whispers of the first wife or ridiculous notions of mummies on the third floor, and there would certainly be no suspicious glaring at the groom.

  The guests left in the afternoon, so that both the Kincaid women could be home well before dark, and Molly was glad to see them go. The constant sniffles and pitying glances were getting tiresome.

  Mr. Hanson was such a dear, guiding Molly’s mother from the Trevelyan house with a whisper of assurance. He’d been quiet all day, voicing neither his support for this marriage nor his disapproval.

  Molly knew he was only here for her mother’s sake. Perhaps now that Mary had leisure time, she’d spend some of it in Mr. Hanson’s company.

  Wolf closed the double doors on the retreating guests and leaned against them with an audible growl.

  Molly clasped her hands at her waist. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t apologize,” he snapped. “It’s pretty much the reaction I expected.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it has been a perfectly hideous day,” he added.

  Molly had never thought to hear her groom describe their wedding day as hideous. There had been unpleasant moments, of course, but hideous

  I’m sorry.”

  “You’re apologizing again.” Wolf passed her without even glancing down. There was no smile, no softening of his bitter expression.