The Wolf Duke

by K. J. Jackson

  Vicky’s swaying stopped and she looked directly at Sloane, her eyes serious. “Oh yes, the quadrille and the cotillion and the reels and most of all, the waltz.”

  Sloane started. “You have seen people waltzing?”

  “Oh yes.” Vicky went back to swinging. “I watch all the parties from the alcoves looking down into the ballroom from the upper level. I have a chair and a blanket and everything. Sometimes I fall asleep watching the ladies and gentlemen dancing through the balusters.”

  A smile came to Sloane’s lips. She remembered that feeling well, the fancy of youth when everything of the years ahead of her glittered in romantic possibilities. “I am surprised you’ve seen the waltz—I understand it is not at all proper in the most respectable establishments.”

  “I don’t imagine Miss Gregory thinks Wolfbridge is at all respectable. She mutters it all the time when Uncle Reiner leaves the room. But it is hopeless—Miss Gregory will not have it.”

  “I could teach you all of those dances.”

  Vicky stopped her swinging, her jaw dropping. “You can?”

  “Of course.”

  Vicky’s eyes narrowed at her for a long second. A mirror image of the same suspicion that crinkled Reiner’s eyes when he looked at her. “Why would you do that?”

  “I am bored to tears in this room—is that a good enough reason?”

  “I guess so.” Vicky looked around the room and her nose scrunched. “I would be bored in here as well.” The distrust in her eyes slipped away as she looked at Sloane. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Sloane.”

  A sweet smile, almost shy, lifted her plump cheeks. “Then I am most happy I snuck in here, Miss Sloane.”

  ~~~

  Night had settled and the door opened. For one brief second, Sloane hoped it was Vicky again. The girl was sweet, and they’d spent an hour going through the steps of the quadrille this afternoon. Real conversation with Vicky had been beyond welcome and it had kept her mind off her current predicament.

  The second of hope passed.

  She wasn’t so lucky.

  Reiner walked through the door with a tray of food balanced on one arm and he closed the door behind him. The aroma of seasoned grouse and roasted rosemary potatoes wafted into the room. She sat on the foot of the bed with her bare feet tucked under her and Reiner gave her only the quickest glance as he moved across the room to set the tray on the small round table in the corner by the fireplace.

  “Did you have anything to admit to me this eve, Sloane?”

  “Nothing new since you last asked this morn, Reiner.”

  Both his question and her answer deliberate and calm—cordial—as it always was.

  He turned toward her, his gaze on her curious. “No? I understand you had a rogue visitor today.”

  His words sent a spike of fear through her heart—not for herself but for little Vicky.

  But for once his golden brown eyes weren’t weighed down with grim distrust as he looked at her. Suspicion still laced his gaze, but the cold irate glare had tempered.

  “I did.” She moved to the edge of the bed, straightening her skirts as she draped her legs off the side. “I do hope you do not blame Vicky. She was only curious—odd noises were coming from a locked room. It was actually quite brave of her to venture in here.”

  His eyebrow cocked. “Brave?”

  Sloane nodded. “She had no inkling what she would find beyond the door, yet she entered anyway. That is brave.”

  Reiner offered a slight nod and moved to the center of the room, standing before her. “You did not try and escape past her. Why?”

  “She’s an innocent child. She didn’t deserve to be blamed for my escape were I to push past her.” Her look skewered him. “If I’m going to escape past anyone, it is to be past you, Reiner.”

  The smallest smile lifted the right side of his mouth. “Be that as it may, the guests that I have had here at Wolfbridge have departed and I have decided something.”

  She eyed him cautiously, gaining her feet. Her palm went to the front of her dark dress to smooth the impossibly wrinkled fabric. “Which is?”

  “I have decided to let you out.”

  “You’ve decided to set me free? Tell me where I am so I can go home?”

  A caustic chuckle left his lips. “That is not about to happen, Sloane. You know exactly what you need to tell me for that to happen. I merely meant I will let you free of this room.”

  She folded her arms in front of her. “So I can assume there are conditions?”

  “Yes. You’ll have two of my men shadowing you at all times. You cannot speak to the staff as to why you are here. You are welcome to the castle interior and to go on strolls in the south garden. That is the extent of your freedom until you tell me exactly who you are, who you work for, and what you were after in my room.”

  She had to stifle a sigh. Those same, constant demands he made of her grated on her nerves. But she wasn’t a fool. She would trade almost anything for fresh air after days in the stifling room.

  “Why now?”

  “Simple. I was entertaining guests, as I’m sure you noticed when you snuck onto my grounds. I couldn’t set you free in the castle without questions I’d rather not answer being asked by my guests.”

  “Such as why you’d decided to hold an innocent young woman captive?”

  “Something akin to that.” His shoulders lifted. “Though I doubt your presence here would have made anyone blink twice. The people I consort with know exactly who they are dealing with.”

  “So you’re a well-known savage?”

  “I’m a well-known cold-hearted knave.” His look pinned her. “Take the offer, Sloane.”

  For as much as it riled her pride, she wasn’t in a position to refuse. She nodded.

  “Good. I’ll have a bath and fresh garments brought up for you. You can wear them while your clothes are being cleaned, since it appears you are determined to stay here for a spell.”

  A kindness she didn’t expect from him—even if her presence here was not by her choosing and he well knew that fact. She chose not to argue the point. “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head. “I will unlock the door in the morning.” He moved to the doorway, pausing as his hand wrapped around the door handle. He looked back to her. “You should know that my niece has taken quite a liking to you.”

  “She has?”

  His look dropped to the floor and he half nodded, half tilted his head to the side as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of his own statement. “I have not seen her this happy since…well…never. You can thank her for your freedom—she was most insistent on it.”

  “You consider this freedom?”

  His look lifted to her, his golden-brown eyes amused. “Freedom from the shackles of this room, then. Do you wish to rescind your acceptance of the terms?”

  “I would be a fool to do so.”

  “Or stubborn beyond reason.” A small grin carved into the corners of his mouth. “I did consider your refusal of the offer a distinct possibility.”

  “Then this proves how very reasonable I can be—how very honest I can be.”

  His eyebrows cocked. “Honesty can be a most slippery line depending on who’s casting it, Sloane. I don’t trust. It’s the only thing that’s kept me alive and whole. And I don’t intend to start.”

  He stepped out of the room, clicking the door closed behind him.

  Sloane stared at the door.

  Insufferable. Truly insufferable.

  { Chapter 5 }

  Sloane hid a smile as Miss Gregory left the spacious library.

  Vicky was right. The woman did have the sourest disposition.

  She held in her grin until Miss Gregory’s footsteps echoed away along the stone corridor, the sound disappearing as she withdrew up the stairs to her chamber.

  They’d been dancing—rather, practicing the steps to the dances Sloane was teaching Vicky. Miss Gregory had been disapproving, but w
illing to woodenly supply the music for the dances on the pianoforte with a chastising gleam in her eye. That was until Vicky had insisted it was time to learn how to waltz.

  That, Miss Gregory could not stand for. With a condemning grunt, she’d exited the room to retire for the evening.

  The last three days had been delightful—if she could consider being held prisoner in a far-too-large castle delightful. It was the prisoner part that rankled all her sensibilities. Beyond that, the days had been inordinately pleasant—the food the cook made was extraordinary and the castle had been thoroughly modernized as far as she’d seen. So very different from Vinehill, with its twisty stone corridors and drafty nooks. There wasn’t a spot in the Wolfbridge that she hadn’t felt the warm embrace of comfort.

  It was unnerving, almost, this much opulence surrounding her. The duke was beyond wealthy. That much was obvious. Her home at Vinehill Castle in Stirlingshire was grand—but grand in the way only a six hundred year old castle could be. Ancient stones. A labyrinth of hallways. Cold that could sneak up upon her and freeze her to the bone. Her grandfather had rebuilt much of the castle, but it still held tight to ghosts of the past.

  The governess’s footsteps long since faded, Sloane finally looked at Vicky and could not help the laughter bubbling up from her throat. Vicky looked like a cat that had just eaten a canary—the only thing missing was froth foaming from her mouth.

  “Do not look so pleased with yourself. Poor Miss Gregory is in serious straits over worrying on your immortal soul,” Sloane said.

  “She can worry on her own soul—she has no say in mine.” Vicky walked away from the area in the middle of the library where they had rolled the rug up and cleared the furniture to make room for dancing. She stopped next to the pianoforte, picking up the sheet music she’d pulled and set in front of Miss Gregory. “I thought I could get her to play it before she realized what it was.”

  “She’s a prude, not a lackwit, Vicky. I had a governess or two which were the exact same way.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. My brothers and I used to play a particular game—Valor of Vinehill—that would drive them each batty.”

  “Valor of Vinehill? That sounds exciting, how did you play it?”

  “It involved climbing the vines that ran up the side of our grandfather’s castle and then storming in through the windows. The one that could climb the fastest and quickest would win. And we had at least—”she paused, counting on her fingers—“six of our governesses quit after not being able to get us down from the wall. We were quite terrible rascals now that I reflect upon it.”

  Vicky giggled. “Terrible, maybe—though it does sound exciting—I wish I had brothers.” Vicky set the sheet music back onto the pianoforte.

  “Yes, I didn’t ken it when I was younger—they thought I was a pest and I thought they were mean for not always including me—but now I would move heaven and earth for either of them.”

  “They sound like princes—are they handsome?”

  Sloane chuckled. “I suppose some ladies are enamored with them—I’ve been looking at their faces for far too many years to be able to tell if they’re handsome. Though if it feeds the fantasy of them, they are both big men—warriors.” Her eyes darkened for a moment. “Warriors that will be out for blood once they discover I’ve been held captive here.”

  Vicky’s eyes expanded to saucers. “They won’t hurt Uncle Reiner, will they?”

  “I don’t ken what they’ll do, Vicky.”

  “Well, then he should let you go. And apologize. That will stop them, won’t it?”

  “Possibly. I do agree with you—he should let me go.” Her lips puckered into a frown. That was too much to hope for at the moment.

  Claude and Lawrence—the two guards Reiner had ordered to follow her every step—sat just outside the library in the corridor. It’d been that way since the morning she’d found her door open when she awoke. They were always just outside the door—just ten steps behind her. It was clear Reiner had no intention of letting her go until he got answers.

  Answers she wished she had for herself.

  The most important answers she needed being what had happened to her arm and then, how did she get here?

  Wiping the sourness from her face, Sloane clapped her hands and motioned for Vicky to come to her. “But let us not dwell on that, for it is something we cannot change at the moment. Let us start on the waltz—from what I can remember of it. Since we have no music I can hum a tune, if it will help.”

  “I thought you said you knew how to dance it.” Vicky walked toward her.

  “I do, but only from seeing it afar at a country ball and with an imaginary partner in my arms as I copied the steps. As I said, my governesses and chaperones were staunch protectors of my virtue and in London I was whisked away from any ballroom the moment the word ‘waltz’ was whispered. My grandfather had high, high standards of the poor women meant to keep my reputation impeccable.” She chuckled to herself. “If it wasn’t climbing vines, it was my penchant for being drawn to scandal at parties that did them in. I fear I owe all of them apology after apology.”

  Vicky grinned. “And I fear I will be much like you, Miss Sloane.”

  “Why? Is Miss Gregory not your first governess? How many have you gone through?”

  The mischievous smile widened on Vicky’s face. “She’s my third.”

  Sloane chuckled. “Your third? My, you do put them through the paces, don’t you? I always had my brothers to blame for the governesses throwing up their hands and leaving. It is unfortunate you don’t have someone else to condemn as I did—it is entirely convenient to do so, whether they deserve the blame or not.”

  Sloane studied the girl for a long moment. Her thick dark hair and dark lashes set off the spark of her blue eyes. “You will be something to behold when you join the marriage mart in London in a number of years. So we best get to perfecting those steps. By the time you arrive in London, the waltz will be very proper, I imagine.”

  Vicky nodded, stepping in front of her.

  “I will try and lead, though I never imagined myself in the role.” Sloane set her right hand around Vicky’s torso, just below her lower shoulder blade. “Your left hand will rest above my arm, just wrapping the outer tip of my shoulder.” Vicky’s hand went in place. “And then we clasp our other hands. I do believe they are held rather high.”

  Sloane centered their bodies and looked at Vicky. “It is three steps. You will go backward and I will go forward. One step, one to the side, and close the feet. Then we repeat starting with the other foot.”

  Vicky nodded. “It sounds simple.”

  Sloane cleared her throat, then a lilting hum bubbled from her throat. With a nod at Vicky, she started forward. Her knee instantly bumped into Vicky’s thigh. Vicky giggled.

  “Apologies. We’ll start again.” Sloane reset her feet and started the tune once more. Another nod, and she stepped with her left foot toward Vicky. Her right foot went out to the side and her left foot closed the gap as she dragged Vicky with her. The girl hopped a step to catch up to Sloane just as she started forward with her right foot. Sloane banged into Vicky, tumbling atop her.

  Hopping and tumbling were definitely not a part of the waltz.

  Their arms tangled awkwardly and set Vicky into a fit of laughter. Sloane could do nothing but join in. “That is definitely not how it is done. It is hard to hum and think about my feet at the same time, much less consider where your feet are.”

  “Perhaps I could assist in that.”

  Sloane’s gaze snapped to the library entrance.

  Reiner filled the doorway, the width of his shoulders almost touching both sides of the wooden casing.

  “Oh, yes, Uncle Reiner. Please do. We tried to convince Miss Gregory to play the pianoforte for the music, but she would have nothing to do with it. If you could play it, Miss Sloane could concentrate better on her feet.”

  A half smile lifted his cheek as he looked from Vicky
to Sloane. “Shall I give it a go?”

  Sloane’s head tilted toward the pianoforte. “It may help.”

  “Then I am happy to oblige.”

  He strode across the room, passing Sloane and Vicky on the makeshift dance floor, and settled himself in front of the pianoforte.

  After shifting the sheets of music in front of him, he studied them for a moment. His thick fingers spread atop the keys and without the slightest hesitation he worked through the first sheet in perfect tempo.

  Thick fingers that had no business being that light upon the keys.

  He paused and looked up at her and his niece. “Are you to begin?”

  She jumped from her stare, and spun to Vicky. “Same as before—you are backward and I am forward.” She set her hand onto Vicky’s back and grabbed her hand. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Sloane nodded to Reiner.

  He started playing again and after several beats, Sloane started forth. Left foot. Slide with right. Close. Right foot forward. Slide with left. Close. Left foot forward.

  On that beat, Vicky went back with her left foot as well, and they collided. Vicky hopped back on her right foot.

  With both of their heads bowed to concentrate on their feet, they went through the steps five more times, bumping into each other every other step.

  The music ended with a chuckle coming from Reiner as Vicky bumped into Sloane once more.

  She stepped away from Vicky with a sigh. “It would seem I am not as adept at leading as I had hoped. In my mind it went much better than that.” She looked to Reiner. “Am I not doing it correctly? I do feel as though I have it down, but I do not lead very well—I cannot guide her into the next step as I should.”

  A grin set onto his lips. “No, it does lack some…finesse.”

  “Finesse?”

  “The kind only a man well-versed in the dance could bring to the steps.”

  Vicky bounded over to the pianoforte, her fingers tapping on the rosewood. “You should show her, Uncle Reiner, so she can show me. I will play the music—I have been practicing the sheets for it.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You’ve been practicing? Willingly?”