by Lavinia Kent
“So it happened during the ball.” Wulf spoke to himself, his eyes staring into space.
Anna’s small voice rose from the bed. “It was a monster. He was all black. He was rustling all the books on the shelf. I thought he was going to eat me.”
Wulf moved across the room and sat on the bed, his huge form dwarfing Anna, who immediately melted into his arms.
“What did the monster look like?”
“He was big, almost as big as you. He had big long teeth and huge horns.”
“You saw big teeth and horns?”
“No, but monsters have huge horns and teeth, so he must have.”
Wulf pulled the child fully onto his lap, his large hands stroking through the silken curls. Rose moved to stand beside them, her heart caught by the carefulness of his touch. How could such a rough man be so gentle?
He laid his head atop the small golden one. “Tell me, precious, can you tell me exactly what happened?”
“I was sleeping – dreaming about a puppy. Did you know I want a puppy?”
“No, I didn’t know. Can you go on?”
“I heard a scratching, at first I thought it was the puppy trying to get in. Then I opened my eyes and everything was dark, everything but the corner by the window. The moon was shining there.”
“Did you see something in the corner?”
“The monster.”
“And what did you see when you looked at him?”
“When he moved I saw his eyes, they glowed at me. I wanted to be a brave girl. I was going to take down my swords and run him through.” Rose’s eyes glanced up at the wall where Burberry had hung the swords four years ago. They would have to come down. They might not have posed danger to a baby too small to reach, but to a child intent on climbing and claiming her world . . .
Rose could not contain herself, “Did you try to get them down?”
Anna looked down at her hands, twisting and turning them. “No, I am sorry. I wanted to be brave like the soldiers in the stories you’ve told me.” Her gaze turned up to Wulf, full of adoration. “But, I screamed. Before I could even think, I screamed.”
“That was a good response. Even soldiers must know the time to scream.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Now what happened when you screamed?”
“Nanny came rushing in and when she lit the candle he was gone. I think he must have disappeared.”
Rose moved and sat on the other side of her daughter. She patted her daughter’s arm, intensely aware of Wulf’s presence. Even in the midst of this mess, being near him pierced her like a saber through the chest. She looked up, met his glance, and as he nodded at her unspoken question, pulled Anna into her lap. Her daughter curled against her like a kitten.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now, poppet?” She feathered Anna’s brow with kisses. “It’s very late and I know you wanted to ride your new pony tomorrow.”
“You said I had to wait until all the guests left and you had time to go with me.”
“I think maybe I will have time tomorrow.” Rose clenched her eyes shut and breathed in the magic scent of childhood, fresh air, warm milk, and intangible sweetness. She didn’t know what had happened this evening, but something had and it shook her to the core. These last days had reminded her of the fragility of children. “Yes, I am sure tomorrow would be just perfect for a ride. If we go early then all the guests will still be sleeping after dancing through the night.”
“Is there room for one more on this wonderful ride?” The warmth of Wulf’s breath caressed her as he spoke.
Rose could just see Wulf’s large gelding next to Anna’s tiny pony. He could probably step on it without noticing.
“Yes, I imagine you could come along. I should warn you it may be slow going.”
Anna peeked her head up from where in burrowed in Rose’s bosom. “But I want to gallop.”
The poor pony at full gallop probably couldn’t keep up with the gelding’s walk.
“We’ll see in the morning, love,” Rose said. “Now you have to get some sleep and dream only sweet dreams. I’ll stand guard against any more monsters.”
“Will you sleep with me, then?”
The desire to lie down curled around her daughter was almost more than Rose could bear, but memory of Wimbrely announcement stopped her. “Yes, poppet, I will, but first I have to go and see to the guests. I’ve not been a good hostess leaving them with no explanation. But, as I said before I’ll always be there when you need me”
“As will I.” Wulf’s deep voice reverberated in the small room with solemnity of the promise.
“Always.” Anna clearly picked up the important word.
He reached out and took Rose’s hand in his, the thumb sweeping her palm sending frissons of awareness shooting up her arm. He squeezed it once, tight.
“Yes, always.”
His words bestowed the reassurance Anna needed and she scooted out of Rose’s arms and settled herself among the pillows.
“You will be back, Mama?”
“Yes, I promise. I was sleeping in the nursery anyway. Remember I gave up my bed.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Nanny will sit beside you until I am back.” Rose glanced at Nanny who nodded and went to fetch the rocker from along the wall. She positioned it near Anna’s head.
“Sweet dreams, poppet. I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes, precious, have wonderful dreams and tomorrow we will make them all come true.”
Why did it feel so right to have Wulf’s voice echo her own? She had expected to resent his presence here and instead it warmed her deep within, in so many different ways. Her glance met his, full of question.
He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it softly. Whatever spell spun around them as they stood there with their daughter, he felt it too.
Her hand still clasped in his, he pulled her to the door and down the stairs. He paused there and turned to her.
“You should have a footman stationed here.”
“I planned on it.”
“You should also have all the footmen questioned to be sure none went up. I trust Nanny to know, but you can never be too careful, not with a child.” His voice broke as he spoke and Rose knew he thought of that other child, the boy he’d never seen.
This time it was she who squeezed reassurance and care.
He turned and looked down the main stair, towards the guests who must still dance below. He straightened his shoulders and withdrew his hand.
“I gather you still wish Anna’s true paternity to remain undiscovered.”
Each word chilled her like the heavy first droplets of an early summer rain. She knew that what she wanted was best for Anna, best for them all, but as she watched this proud wounded man withdraw from her she dreamed things could be different.
“It must.” She stared at his feet.
“Then let your wish be my command. I will leave you to your other guests. Tomorrow will be soon enough to discuss the full happenings of this night. It was probably only a guest who’d imbibed too much wandering without purpose, or a footman on some unknown errand.”
“A drunken guest in my daughter’s bedchamber, hardly reassuring, but a likely answer.”
“We will discuss it in the morning when I’ve had time to consider.” Had he used that tone with the soldiers under his command? If so, she understood his success.
“Yes, sir.” A full mocking undertone filled her voice letting him know she was not so easily ruled.
For a moment their eyes caught and held, she thought he almost smiled with warmth, then like a cloud over the sun the chill grew again.
“I should tell you, my lady.” Damn his snide use of the title. “That should the license come, the wedding will proceed. No drunken fool will keep me from my purpose.”
He turned and left, leaving her alone to manage the house full of curious guests. Chin in the air, she trod down the steps, with each stride planning the words she would say
, listing the facts to cover.
Wulf rolled in the bed as the first hint of dawn crept through the window. The pressure in his head felt like he’d drained the brandy, when in fact he hadn’t touched a drop. He pulled a pillow over his face, pretending that morning was far off. He did not know if he could face this day.
For a man used to the stress of war, for never knowing if each day might be his last, this should have been easy. Why should the knowledge that a child he’d never met lay dying curl his insides tighter than a sailor’s knot? Why should knowing the daughter he’d loved so recently had faced danger alone slice cleaner than the sharpest saber? And why should the knowledge of his impending matrimony, a marriage based on finance and need, fill his loins with lust while leaving his heart aching? He had achieved his goal. Rose had agreed to be his wife, what more could he want?
He was a simple man and these were the questions of a sphinx. Even his past debate on whether to accept Holly House had not troubled him to this extent. Despairing that further rest would speed the answers, he forced himself to get up. He would face the challenges of this day as he’d faced every other battle, shoulders back, fear hidden only in the deepest corners of his soul.
Rose paced back and forth across the garden. A thorough examination of the servants had given no clue to the identity of the intruder. Wulf was probably right, it had been some misguided guest wandering lost in the dark. What other explanation could there be? It wasn’t as if a thief would seek valuables in the nursery.
Still, the whole affair troubled her. Maybe it was just easier to concentrate on it than on her coming marriage or Wulf’s son lying near death. She could work on solving who had ventured into the nursery and so distressed Anna.
At least her daughter had seemed herself this morning, her usual sunny, if willful, disposition was back in place. A night spent beside her mother and Wulf’s brief good morning hug had put her world at rights. Her only disappointment was having to wait until afternoon for her promised ride. The bridle paths were still drying and remained covered in puddles. A tramp down to the lake with Nanny to look for frogs had returned the smile to her face. Although, this activity, Rose had been informed, would have been much more fun with a puppy to help on the hunt. Nanny had not looked so sure.
Marguerite walked up from the far garden and hurried over to Rose. “Oh here you are. You must be so disappointed.”
“Disappointed?”
“Yes, I know you were so excited to announce your betrothal and then you got called away – all for such a trivial matter.”
Rose knew she’d presented it as such to the party, but still her mother’s heart could not relax. “Even if it should only be a nightmare, my daughter’s concerns are never trivial to me.”
“Oh, Rose, sometimes you are just too frustrating. Why can’t you just say that you were upset at not having time to enjoy the announcement? I know I would be. I’d probably go into a decline or faint dead away. It would have been such a perfect circumstance and now it’s ruined.”
“Oh Marguerite, sometimes you are just too much.” Rose deliberately echoed her sister’s words. “There’ll be another chance, or if there’s not, it will be because we’re wed first.”
“How could you be married first? The first banns haven’t even been read.”
“Wulf has arranged for a special license. He wants to be married as soon as possible.”
“I didn’t realize he was such a romantic. I wouldn’t have thought it of him.” Marguerite studied her fingers as she contemplated this. Even without seeing her eyes, Rose watched her brow furrow and release as each thought crossed her mind.
Wulf, a romantic? She’d never had the thought before, but there was a core of truth to it. Her hand slipped into her inner pocket rubbing the frayed ribbon. Some might laugh at the thought that a giant of man could be described as a romantic, but Rose had the feeling that was why he’d been so easily wounded.
Before she could find the right words to answer Marguerite, an all-too-familiar voice hooted from the doorway.
“Lady Burberry, aren’t you coming to say farewell?” Lady Smythe-Burke stood with her usual perfection of posture.
“Are you leaving? Surely, the roads . . .”
“Oh, I must agree with you. I’d never travel when there was still mud about. Why risk a stuck carriage? But Lady Clarington and Sommerton evidently disagree. Clarington, himself, isn’t expressing much of an opinion. He’s following Minerva, as usual, though.”
Rose glanced at the sun. It must be about 11:00. “Are they leaving now? I am surprised Lady Clarington is even up.”
“After last night she seems eager to be gone. Daresay the announcement ruined her hunting, didn’t it? And Sommerton, evidently he’s brains enough to know he missed his chance, not very happy about it, though. Still, not quite sure why you decided as you did. Sommerton seemed to be everything you said you wanted, unlike Major Huntington. But, then I never did understand the young. In my day it was so much simpler. Maybe it was the fans – let people say what they wanted without having to speak. When people use words they never do say what they mean. Should have parties where nobody’s allowed to talk. Great idea, that.”
“Are the Clarington’s and Sommerton leaving now?”
“Well, they’re working on it. Evidently, Sommerton never leaves until he’s seen that all his bags are packed. Very uncharacteristic of the man. Doesn’t seem to understand that you have the luggage sent separately so you don’t have to wait. They’re standing in the front hall ready to go, but their trunks are still being readied.”
“Oh dear.” It sounded like a horrid situation. Did her hostess’s duties demand that she stand there with them? She’d hardly shared a friendly word with Lady Clarington since her arrival, and Sommerton . . . her flesh still crawled at the thought of that fish kiss. She should be glad he’d realize there was no understanding. He must have more brains than she’d given him credit for.
“If it were my house I’d go and say how sorry I was they were departing and then offer to check on the packing. It can take a good three-quarters of an hour to check with all the servants. Also gives you the chance to see what’s going in those trunks – I was once walking by the guest rooms on the last day of a house party and saw a maid packing up the washstand. I think she dumped the water first. Too bad they can’t make trunks out of glass – although then we’d all know each other’s secrets. Can’t think the gentlemen want us to see their corsets.”
“You’re right, I should go check on my guests.” She gave a quick nod to Marguerite who stood almost swallowed in the garden greenery. Marguerite looked from her to Lady Smythe-Burke and back. Rose just raised an eyebrow and headed in. It was time Marguerite learned how to handle some dragons by herself.
Once she was in the house, she slowed. The troubles she’d been trying to outpace in the garden descended around her. Nothing was turning out as she had planned. The worst part was she no longer knew if that was a problem. She could dismiss Wulf for the qualities he lacked – manageability and too great a desire for control – not to mention a simple affection for her.
No, those were definitely not things she could expect from the man. Still – she paused in a stream of sunshine, letting it warm her – he did have good qualities too. He was loyal, and steadfast. He’d be a wonderful father to Anna. She didn’t doubt his competence, and the passion . . . she was glad there was no one here to see her blush.
But something was missing, some niggling thing she couldn’t put her finger on. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. If only she could understand what it was she wanted from him, then she could plan how to achieve it.
She knew that she didn’t want title and estates. That was, perhaps, one of the biggest flies in the ointment. How was she to watch over her own lands if she was being dragged all over his? And a title. That probably meant society and London. She swallowed, hard. She didn’t know how large the Earldom of Falmouth was, but she imagined it was more than large
enough to occupy a man – maybe he’d be content to manage his lands and leave her to hers. He’d have claim to Anna and that was what he wanted. No, he didn’t seem the man to leave a wife behind regardless of his feelings for said wife.
The thought filled her with both hope and despair. Why were her thoughts so tangled? Why did she ache so for the man and what lay ahead as he awaited word of his son? She should hate him for what he forced her to, but all she could remember was the gentle kindness he’d showed to Anna and those few seconds that she’d seen the same look turned on her, before he remembered his contempt for her actions.
“Ah, Lady Burberry, I was hoping to find you before I left.” Sommerton swung through the door and paced towards her.
“Lord Sommerton, I was sorry to hear you were departing so soon. I was just coming to say my farewells. Are you sure the roads are dry enough?”
“Lady Clarington certainly thinks so and who am I to doubt a lady?” He turned and met her gaze. “I am smart enough to take what I can get rather than reach for what’s moved beyond my grasp.” He took her hand and laid a light kiss across its back.
Then standing straight he arched his shoulders back and looked down at her from his full height, his eyes veiled with hauteur. “Besides, you really weren’t well enough bred for me. The funds helped, but I should have known you weren’t born to the blood. Not at all what I am looking for.”
He headed for the door. Standing in its frame he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Good-bye, Lady Burberry. I hope you’re happy with your choice. I know Huntington should be. I’ve seen the size of the wagers that he’ll win your hand. I imagine he’s placed a few himself and is due quite a fortune.”
She stood struck for a moment. Her first impulse was to set him straight on a number of points, but – oh, what did it matter? Had Wulf wagered funds that he would win her hand?
Did it matter?
She would have expected anger at the thought, but found only sympathy. If he’d been so in need of funds, then it might have been foolish, but she certainly understood choices of necessity.
It had certainly governed the choices she made. She ran her hands down her skirts, straightening them, lifted her chin fully to the sunlight and drew in a deep breath. She followed Sommerton into the hall.