Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chpater 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
About the Author
Excerpt - ATH
Excerpt - ATL
Excerpt - TLAP
TAMING THE WICKED WULFE
The Rogue Agents, Book 1
by
Tammy Jo Burns
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
To Tame a Wicked Wulfe, The Rogue Agents, Book 1
Copyright © 2014 by Tammy Jo Burns
A Traitorous Heart, The Reluctant Lords, Book 1
Copyright © 2013 by Tammy Jo Burns
A Thin Line, The Reluctant Lords, Book 2
Copyright © 2013 by Tammy Jo Burns
To Love and Protect, The Reluctant Lords, Book 3
Copyright © 2014 by Tammy Jo Burns
Cover design by The Killion Group, Inc.
Prologue
June 1809
“When are the others showing up?” Liam asked in his thick Scottish brogue.
“Any time. Are you certain you’re ready for this?” Thorn volleyed back.
“I have no choice now, do I?” the larger man chuckled.
“Baptism by fire,” Thorn muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“These men want to become partners in our business?”
“Yes.”
“When will they be here?”
“Bloody hell, Liam, do you never shut up?”
“If a man is to find out things, he needs to ask questions,” Liam pulled out a pocket watch. “Half past nine,” he muttered.
“Should be any minute. Nice watch.”
“Thanks.”
“Someone special give it to you?”
“She used to be. I’ll be lucky if she ever talks to me again.”
The men heard approaching footsteps at the same time. They were at the end of the alley, not a great position to take up when fighting an enemy, but they had scouted it the night before and knew the lay of the land. A puff of smoke heralded the entrance of William Thomas, Earl of Glandingham and two of his burly footmen. This man believed himself to be much more important than he was.
“Gentlemen, I’m so glad you could keep the meeting.”
“Nothing would keep us from it,” Thorn said. “Your note said you wanted to buy into the Lady Luck. I’m not certain we are looking for another partner at the moment.”
“It would behoove you to reconsider my offer, Wulfe.”
“Just what are you offering?”
“Fifty thousand pounds and I am your only partner.”
“What the hell?” Liam interjected.
“Shut up, you skirt wearing bastard! Know when you are in the presence of your betters.”
“I won’t take that from the likes of you, Sassenach!” Liam argued.
Glandingham nodded at the two men on either side of him and they moved on Liam. Although the man outweighed each of them by a stone, they cornered him, landing punches on his face and ribs. They dropped him to the trash-littered ground of the alley. The men kicked him in his back, legs, and head.
“Enough!” Thorn yelled, causing the men to fall back.
“We can finish him off for you, Wulfe,” Glandingham needled.
“No.” Thorn Wulfe withdrew a pistol hidden beneath his coat and walked over to Liam. The man lay on the ground, coughing and trying to catch his breath. “Fifty thousand pounds, you say?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“Wulfe?” Liam pushed up off his stomach and looked at Thorn.
“Sorry, old man, it has been a good run, but we must part paths now,” he said, cocking the pistol.
“No!” Liam yelled as Thorn pulled back on the trigger, the loudness ricocheted off of the walls of the buildings surrounding them. The Scotsman fell face down on the ground, dark liquid pooled around him like a lake. Wulfe replaced his pistol and stepped over the body of his ex-partner.
“Glandingham, shall we go to the Lady Luck and finalize the terms of our agreement over a nice brandy?”
“Indeed, and since we are going to be partners, call me William.”
“Shall we?” He held out his hand for the earl to go ahead of him, not offering the same amount of friendliness that Glandingham had. He left the alley, never once looking back.
***
Dawn broke over the city of London when Thorn finally retired to his rooms. He dropped heavily in the chair behind his desk, a bottle of Scottish whisky next to him. Today had been taxing for him on many levels. A knock sounded on the door just as Thorn removed the stopper from the bottle. “Come in,” exhaustion tinged his voice.
“I have some papers for you to sign, sir,” his valet, Barkley, entered the room.
“What are they?”
“I don’t know, sir. Mr. Brown brought them and said they are in regards to various estate matters.”
“Why isn’t Teddy taking care of it?”
“That is a question for Mr. Brown.”
“Give me the damn papers, James. What about the other?” He asked as he dipped a quill in ink and began scrawling his name at the spots indicated, not reading what he signed.
“Taken care of, sir.”
“Here,” he pushed the papers in James’ direction. “Have those delivered to Brown.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“How are you at telling people their son is dead at the hand of his partner?” He looked up and saw the look of disapproval that crossed James’ face. “For God, King, and Country,” he lifted the whisky bottle in the air before drinking directly from it.
“Sir?”
“You’re dismissed, James.”
The valet turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Thorn started the letter three times before he finally found a way to inform a family that their son had valiantly died that night, never once mentioning his part in the whole sordid affair.
Chapter 1
April 1811…
“Theodore Wulfe, I will not do it! I don’t care that you are a bloody duke! Nothing you can say could make me ever want to tie myself to that man. I cannot believe you even have the nerve to ask such a question of me,” Rebekah stormed to the window and looked through it, unseeing.
“Rebekah,” the man behind her said in a gentle tone, much like one would use when attempting to calm a wild horse. “Do you see those children out there?”
“Yes,” she whispered, letting her forehead fall against the glass, welcoming the coolness. She knew what he
would say next, and Lord help her, she could not hate him as much as she wanted to.
“They are my life. They are the best of both Sarah and me, as you well know. You have helped care for them since they entered this world. Do you want them sent to an orphanage? Hell, Rebekah, do you want them sent to Sarah’s parents? Do you want them deciding the future of this dukedom?” the Duke of Wulfcrest queried.
“No!” Rebekah exclaimed, horrified, looking at him over her shoulder. She turned back to watch the two little ragamuffins that played outside with their matching Wolf Hounds, Piddles and Smelly. Smiling, she remembered how she had tried to coax the children into naming them something else, but they were as stubborn as their mother which explained why their names made vague references to bodily functions beyond a young pup’s control. Sarah’s parents would never allow the children to have pets of any kind, let alone the menagerie they seemed to keep. No, two four-year-olds deserved to be allowed to play and be rambunctious, not locked away in a living tomb.
“Sarah loved you. I love you. We could not ask for a better adoptive mother for our twins,” he broke off into a coughing fit.
Rebekah tried to tune out the coughing, but found she could not. She could no longer deny that he continued to get worse. She also knew that if she turned around, the handkerchief he used would have flecks of red on it. She wanted to rage at Heaven about the unfairness of the situation. These two precious children would be orphans in a matter of months. Teddy and Sarah were wonderful people who did not deserve to be taken so young. Especially when his rotten, good for nothing brother still drew breath. A man who could not be bothered to attend his sister-in-law’s funeral. A man who had not shown his face around Wulfcrest Manor in years. A man who if she saw him, there had better not be a loaded gun nearby. A man that Teddy wanted to tie her to for the rest of her life.
“Teddy, I have a wonderful idea,” her face lit up as she turned to look at him. Once more composed, he looked at her expectantly. “Why don’t you and I marry? It would be a marriage of convenience. I could care for you. Why are you shaking your head no?”
“I will be taking myself off to London at the end of this week. I don’t want the children to see me decline. It will not be pretty and if I can spare them, I will. That was one blessing in regards to Sarah’s accident, she did not linger. And besides, if I know my in-laws, they will fight you for the twins regardless. Knowing that Zachary will rule a dukedom, Hezekiah will want to have him close so that he can attempt to turn him into a pious monster. No, Rebekah, you need Thorn’s strength to help you. The two of you will have to provide a united front to fight the Reverend and his wife.”
“That is going to be most difficult when I want to kill him myself.”
“Rebekah, I have told you on many occasions that he has excellent reasons for everything you accuse him of,” Teddy sounded as if he were attempting to patiently talk to a small child.
“So you say. I still reserve the right to despise him. Even now, he needs to be here and where is he? Or should I say whose bed is he in? He is single-handedly destroying your family name, and all you do is make excuses for him. It sickens me.” She turned once more to stare out the window. The children were playing tag with the dogs. Squeals, laughter, and barks filtered into the room.
“On this we will just have to agree to disagree.”
“Teddy, he runs one of London’s most notorious gaming hells! How can you excuse that?”
“I have said all that I will say on the matter.”
“Oh,” she growled, “Sarah said you could be stubborn when you set your mind to something.”
“And I have set my mind to this. Need I remind you what Sarah said when I held her in my arms as she took her last breaths?”
“No,” she bit out, tightening her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She refused to give in to any more tears. It had been two years since they buried her sister, and best friend, but some days it felt like only yesterday.
“She wanted you to be happy.”
“And marrying your wastrel brother is the solution?” she asked incredulously, spinning around to face him once more.
“Regardless of what you think, family is very important to Thorn. He loved Sarah like a sister for most of his life. He loves his niece and nephew. He tolerates you,” he tried to tease.
“I loathe him.”
“What really happened between you two?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she huffed and moved across the room.
“Sarah always suspected there was more between the two of you than you let on, but she said you remained tight-lipped about it.”
“It was none of her business and now it is none of yours.”
“Fine.” He held up his hands knowing he would not get anywhere further on that front. He started to say something but another fit of coughing overcame him. This time it lasted longer than before and had him doubling over until Rebekah could assist him to a chair. Once seated, she quickly got him something to drink. She made to stand up when he grasped her wrist. She could not help but notice that his grip had weakened over the weeks. Kneeling beside him, she looked up at him and saw the desperation in his eyes. “Please, Rebekah.”
Those two words were like a death knell sounding over the valley. Suddenly she felt as if someone had put the last nail in her coffin and she could not take in enough air. “Do what you must,” she said, rising to her feet.
“Thank you. You don’t know how this eases my mind.” He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m going outside with the children,” she said, slipping out of his grasp, and escaping from the room. Once she reached the coolness of the darkened hallway, she came to a stop. “Bloody hell and damnation,” she muttered, nerves and anger jockeying for first place position inside her. “This will never work. I’ll kill him first.” She pushed away from the wall and made her way outside. The spring sunshine felt wonderful on her face, a light breeze blew, lifting the tendrils of hair off her neck.
“Aunt Bekah!” Two beautiful tow-headed children called out simultaneously. She began to chase after them, the pups chasing her, in hopes of forgetting her recent conversation with Teddy and the change it would have on her life. The five of them played until Rebekah collapsed on the ground in a most unladylike heap. She lay on her back, her arms flung wide looking up at the cloudless sky wondering when her life had begun to spin out of her control, and then pinpointing it exactly. Rebekah would have cursed her soft heart and that moment in time if it were not for the twins.
All of a sudden, her arms were full of warm, wiggling bodies. Zachary and Ivy lay as close to her as possible, one on each side, their heads resting on her arms. Piddles and Smelly lay close by, keeping watch. Rebekah dropped a kiss on top of the head of each child before looking at the sky once more.
“Aunt Bekah, why’re you so quiet?” Ivy asked.
“Are you sad?” Zachary queried.
“A little,” she answered honestly, “but nothing for you two to worry about. Let’s see if we can pick shapes out of the clouds,” she coaxed the twins.
“Snake!” Zachary shouted, laughing and pointing above causing his sister to squeal.
“Giraffe,” Rebekah pointed out, causing both children to giggle. None of them were aware of the man watching wistfully through the window.
***
Theodore Wulfe, Duke of Wulfecrest watched the trio through the window in his study, a smile played on his lips at the same time a lone tear ran down his cheek. They would be fine with Rebekah overseeing their care. He just hoped Rebekah and Thorn would not kill each other before the children were raised with families of their own. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Theodore could see a rider approaching the house from a window that faced the front drive. Hopefully he brought the signed papers he had been waiting on.
His butler delivered the packet of papers. Teddy shuffled through them, finding the ones that he needed. A true, full sm
ile lit up his face. They had done it, by damn! It had taken several individuals’ involvement and subterfuge, but they had the necessary paperwork. He hoped the archbishop would use the money that he had donated wisely. Thorn had signed the paperwork two years ago, not long after Sarah’s death and Teddy’s discovery of his terminal illness. His brother had no knowledge that he was committing himself to a future with a ready-made family. Teddy knew he should feel bad about his trickery, but he did not.
What he regretted was having told his wife about his declining health. If he had not told her, she would not have been upset when she went riding and would not have been riding as if the hounds of Hell were on her heels. He had chased after her but had been too late. He had arrived in time to cradle her in his arms as she breathed her last. Teddy dashed away the tears that lingered on his lashes. He looked out the window once more at his children playing without a care in the world.
“Jones, send for the vicar in the village of Brookside. Tell him all is in order, and he is needed right away.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Theodore Wulfe collapsed in the chair behind his desk, weak with relief and illness. They had taken a chance and conspired against his brother, but it had worked. Now he would not have to worry about the twins being raised in the same strict and horrid conditions Sarah and Rebekah had been. Sarah, the meek child, had come away from her parents’ house with both physical and emotional scars. He could not imagine what scars the strong-willed Rebekah carried. Neither he nor his wife knew what had happened to force his sister-in-law to live with them, and he could not even begin to imagine. He just remembered her showing up on their doorstep with just a small bag that held a few special items, looking like a ghost of her former self. He could not remember how long it had taken her to laugh and even now, her laughter was rare.
He pushed up out of his chair, pausing a moment as he waited for a wave of dizziness to pass. Teddy walked to the French-style doors that led outside. He stood on the terrace and soaked up the warmth of the spring day. Best to get this over with.
Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) Page 1