The Wolf Duke

by K. J. Jackson

  He chuckled. “No one with any sense about them. I had to learn that the hard way.”

  She laughed, her look leaving him for a moment to glance about at the many couples around them. “This is so much more…free than during the season. I’ve been passed from one gentleman to another tonight without a blink in between—this is far more attention than I ever received in the ballrooms in London.”

  His bottom lip jutted up in a frown as he looked over her head at the men in the room. “Yes, the men are far bolder here than they are in the London. I’d never considered it before, but then, I never had to keep a wary eye on a wife and the attention she receives.”

  Her hand flipped up from his shoulder. “I am the novelty of the moment, that is all.”

  “And you are also gorgeous. That doesn’t help to dissuade the wandering eyes of men. Nor does the dress you chose—the décolletage is too revealing and the lavender accentuates your eyes too well. And you smile far too easily with them. And I think I’ve seen you laugh with—”

  “Reiner—stop.” She squeezed the cusp of his shoulder. “You set me in this role as hostess, and I don’t think scowling at your guests is what you intended for me to do. Besides, I do believe the majority of them mean to gain your ear through me and they think to use flattery to turn my head.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  A shudder ran through her and she wrinkled her nose. “The amount of business schemes, and investments in merchant ships and in all manners of livestock—swine and sheep and bulls—that has been foisted upon me this eve is laughable. Llamas—one gentleman went on and on about llamas, for goodness’ sake.”

  His eyebrows cocked.

  “Yes, llamas. Just one topic of conversation. I barely even ken what the creature is. So I have either become the most sought after investment consultant in all of Lincolnshire, or each one of those gentleman is hoping I’ll repeat to you verbatim all they think to fill my head with.”

  “Truly?” His head tilted to the side and his next step went further than intended, pressing his body against hers.

  The jolt of energy that hit her when his chest met hers sent tingles along her spine and an aching into her core. She shouldn’t be dancing—of all things, the waltz—with him if she intended to make it to her bedchamber alone tonight.

  The earlier fire in his look reignited and for a breath that lasted ages, she stared at his eyes, transfixed, frozen in time.

  A discordant screech from the bows against the strings of two violins peeled into the air above.

  The shrill sound echoed in her ears and it took another breath to realize the music had abruptly stopped. A commotion at the far end of the ballroom swept in a wave toward them just as Reiner looked up from her, alarm in his eyes as his feet stopped.

  Her hand dropped from his shoulder and she spun around, following his gaze.

  From the main entrance of the ballroom, all the way toward them, people started shuffling, moving to the sides as they parted a path directly down the center of the dance floor.

  With her shorter height, it took a moment before enough people cleared the space in front of her so she could see what was coming.

  Ten burly, raging, swords-clanging Scots.

  Men built for war, charging into the ballroom. Charging at her.

  At the front of them, her brother.

  Lachlan.

  Furious.

  Seething with every step.

  His hard hazel eyes locked onto hers and his gait sped, a ball of fury storming toward her.

  No.

  No, no, no.

  “Sloane, what the hell do you think you’re doing here.” Her brother’s booming voice echoed into the high heavy beams of the ballroom. A command. Not a question.

  Her jaw dropped, her face steaming with a rush of blood into her forehead. “Lachlan—”

  Reiner stepped in front of her, cutting her words and blocking her view of the impending storm that was her older brother.

  Reiner swept his hand out over the silent crush of guests. “Go.”

  A murmur snaked through the crowd, a few people making a half-hearted effort to leave the ballroom.

  “Go.” Reiner’s voice thundered over the cluster.

  Silently, people turned and disappeared out the various exits of the ballroom. Sloane shifted to stand adjacent to Reiner. It took minutes for all the people to amble to the exits while Reiner and Sloane and Lachlan and his band of nine men stood frozen in place, staring at each other.

  The second the footman closed the last door of the ballroom, Lachlan stepped toward Sloane and reached for her arm. “I’m taking you out of here this instant.” His rage had only swelled while people exited the room.

  Reiner moved in front of her again, blocking her brother from grabbing her arm. “You’re not taking Sloane anywhere.”

  Lachlan’s head snapped back, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Reiner. “No?” He drew the one word out with lethal intent and then took another step forward.

  Her brother was huge, but Reiner was just as tall. Just as deadly.

  The two men stood, toe-to-toe, murder in their eyes.

  Sloane jumped from behind Reiner and shoved an arm between the two men. “For the blasted devil’s sake—you two are acting like deranged ogres.”

  “And you’re planning to lie with the man that killed your brother.” The bitter words fumed from Lachlan’s mouth.

  She shoved her body between them with a grunt, forcing each to take a step backward. She pinned her look on her brother. “We were misinformed. I was misinformed,” she whispered in a hiss.

  Lachlan didn’t look down at her, his lethal stare above her head focused on Reiner. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Sloane. I don’t know what he did to get you here. To get you to agree to this, but you’re not in your bloody well right mind and I’m taking you home.”

  “Dammit, Lachlan, no, you’re not.”

  Lachlan grabbed her arm.

  In a flash, Reiner had his dagger pulled, the tip pressed to Lachlan’s neck.

  The swoosh of drawing steel filled the air as the nine Scots standing behind Lachlan pulled their swords, lifting them.

  Her screech piercing the air, Sloane shoved Reiner backward while twisting her arm free from her brother. “You blasted idiots. Stop. Just stop. Both of you.”

  She stepped to the side, glaring at the band of Scotsmen ready to battle. “Dom, go. I’m alive and well and not here under duress as you can obviously see. Get the men out of here.” Her glare swung to her brother. “I want to talk to Lach alone.”

  Domnall nodded, sheathing his sword. “Aye, lass.” He turned to the rest of the men and motioned toward the door. They all spun about, and with boots echoing against the wooden planks of the gleaming floor, filed out of the ballroom through the main entrance.

  She waited until the heavy ancient oak doors were secured behind them before she turned back to Reiner. “You as well.”

  “Me? What?” Reiner shook his head. “If you think I’m going to leave you alone with him, you’re mad, Sloane.”

  “He’s my brother, Reiner. I will be fine. But you—you need to go as well.”

  The hard set of her husband’s jaw told her he wasn’t about to move an inch.

  “Please, Reiner.”

  His glare lifted from her and the steel glint in his brown eyes found target on Lachlan. “You touch her again and you’re a dead man.”

  “And you’re a—”

  “For blasted sake, Reiner—Lach—stop. You’re both big and strong and can kill the other. We all bloody well understand it.” Her hands flew up on either side of her, her palms to both of the men. “This is exactly why you can’t be in the same room together.”

  Reiner’s look dropped back to her. “Fine. I will be on just the other side of the door to the billiards room. No farther.”

  “Yes—thank you.”

  Reiner spun and stalked to a side entrance of the ballroom, through the
door that led to the billiards room.

  Lachlan didn’t even wait until Reiner closed the door before stepping in front of her, his voice a roar. “So you think to now tell me I can’t hate that bastard?”

  Her hand went to her hips, squaring herself to him. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “If not him—then who? Who’s the man that murdered Jacob? Who should I hate?”

  “It was Falsted all along. We had it right to begin with. He was the one.”

  Lachlan’s head swung back and forth, his hazel eyes frantic. “No. You saw the agreement for the purchase of the lands. And I confirmed it.” His arm swung up to point at the side door Reiner had disappeared into, his words lifting into a deafening growl. “That’s the blackguard that ordered Torrie’s family land cleared.”

  “Reiner knew nothing of the fire, Lachlan. Didn’t order anything.” Her arms clasped in front of her ribcage. “Nothing. Nothing of the clearings.”

  “Lies he’s apparently been feeding you.”

  “Not lies, Lach.” Her forehead tilted down and her eyes turned up as she pierced him with her gaze, her words even against his raging. “You cannot hate him for it. Not when you don’t ken the truth.”

  His eyebrows arched. “And you do?”

  “He’s my husband, Lachlan, so aye, I do ken the truth.”

  Lachlan shifted on his feet, his clenched fists banging into his thighs. “He’s not your husband yet.”

  She held steady under his slicing gaze, taking a moment, just one second to breathe before she opened her mouth. “Actually he is. We were married in Scotland. The marriage tomorrow is a ruse meant to goad certain people in attendance into…action.”

  “Bloody hell, Sloane.” His right arm flew high into the air and he advanced toward her, his forehead throbbing red. “Action? What the hell does that mean? What blasted idiocy has been going through your brain? No—don’t even try to explain this lunacy to me. Not when you should be home at Vinehill where you are safe.” His rapid words didn’t cease, every word a shot barking into the air. “Because you obviously haven’t been in London like you said you would be. Did you even go there? All this time and I thought you were safely ensconced in our townhouse and you’ve been tramping about the countryside—for what? And now you’re married? You’ve always been too damn headstrong and this is reprehensible—marrying the damn man that did this to our family when you should be at home. Do you even ken what poor health Torrie is in—and you’re down here getting married—married.”

  The last word thundered into the room, vibrating in her ears.

  For all that Reiner had cleared the room, surely everyone in the castle had just heard Lachlan’s latest tirade.

  She waited seconds until he was merely skewering her with daggers in his eyes and not about to launch into another tirade.

  She opened her mouth, her voice just above a whisper. “I went after him, Lach. I went after Reiner. I wanted to see him ruined just as much as you wanted to see him dead after what we learned from Falsted.”

  A long sigh seethed out his clenched teeth. “What did you even think you could do?”

  “Falsted suggested I come and steal something from Reiner that would ruin him were it to ever see the light of day. I came to retrieve the item. To ruin him.”

  Lachlan’s eyebrow cocked. “It doesn’t matter, the man should die a slow death.”

  Finally.

  The first words that her brother had spoken that weren’t vibrating with rage. They lauded her husband’s death, but at least they weren’t spewed out of control. Small progress.

  She moved forward and set her fingertips on the side of his arm, meeting his unyielding glare. “He didn’t do it, Lachlan.”

  “Like hell he didn’t.” He jerked his arm from her touch. “He duped you.”

  “No, he didn’t. The papers Falsted has from Reiner that order the clearing are false—a forgery of his name. Reiner bought the land, yes, but never with the stipulation that it be cleared. So place the blame back on Falsted if you need to hunt for blood, but you will leave my husband out of it.”

  “No.” His lip curled. “Now I have two bloody Englishmen to hate. To ruin.”

  She stepped closer, her neck craned so she could be as close to him as possible. “You’ll not touch Reiner, Lach.”

  His mouth tightened to a hard line and he refused to answer her.

  “Lachlan—”

  “A duel.” He took a step backward, his head shaking. “For taking you unwittingly—that’s what Milly said. He took you. And when in the hell were you in Scotland? Why didn’t you come home?”

  Her look narrowed at him. “I wasn’t unwitting and you insult me with that comment.”

  “The man is going down, Sloane, one way or another.”

  “Or not at all. You do this and you are no brother to me. This is your bloody anger taking over all of the sane thoughts in your head again. You need to stop and listen.” She grabbed his forearm, clamping her fingers around it. “Listen. Reiner is my husband. He didn’t do this. If ever you were to trust me, now is the time, Lachlan.”

  “Sloane—”

  “No. No more arguments—there is no stopping this, because it’s already done.” She squeezed his arm. “Aside from grandfather, it is just us now, Lach. I don’t want to lose you over this, but if you go after Reiner, you are no brother to me.”

  Shock registered on his face, his eyes narrowing at her for a long breath. Seconds passed.

  He exhaled. Long and tortured. “Aye. Your husband is safe from me. For now.”

  “Lach—”

  “For now, Sloane. I’ll promise no more than that. Now can be a very short amount of time. For the second he so much as sets a hair out of place on your head, he’s mine.”

  “I expect no less of you.” She smiled, warm and genuine. “Now I can be happy you’re here and that my dear brother has travelled all this way to attend my wedding.”

  “We’ll not be staying for this blasphemous event.”

  She twisted, tucking her arm into the crook of his elbow and tugging him toward the main doors of the ballroom. “Actually, you must stay now that you’ve appeared. It will cause quite the scandal if you left before the ceremony.”

  “I don’t give a bloody damn about a scandal.”

  “That is clear for how you ruined the dancing for the evening.” Her feet paused and she tugged him to a stop, looking up at him until he met her gaze. “But you care about me and I do give a bloody damn about not creating an even bigger scandal. So it is settled. You’ll stay.”

  An incoherent grumble came from his lips.

  Agreement. Or as close to it as Lachlan was able to give at the moment.

  “Good. That’s settled. I’ll find Mrs. Flurten and she will find you and the Vinehill men chambers to retire to. The number of rooms in Wolfbridge is ridiculous and there are hallways and rooms I’ve never even seen.” She leaned into his arm, smiling sweetly at him. “Plus there’s a ball tomorrow evening you must stay through, so you may as well make yourself comfortable.”

  His feet stopped.

  She tugged him forward, not giving him a chance to protest. “I am so happy you’re here. I must tell you all of the mischief I’ve been in. Did you ken that Wolfbridge has the most excellent climbing vines?”

  { Chapter 18 }

  Sloane walked along the dark corridor that led from the north wing where her brother and his men were assigned rooms. Sconces along the hallway were lit every twenty feet—enough to see, not enough to banish the many shadows. Rooms on this floor were mostly empty, reserved for the guests who would be arriving tomorrow for the grand ball.

  She needed to find Reiner. He had been cornered by men in the billiards room when she and Lachlan were done conversing. Not wanting to extract him from his guests after the scene her brother had just caused in the ballroom, she sent a footman to relay to Reiner that all was well, and then went to find Mrs. Flurten to have her brother and the Vinehill men
situated.

  As she passed the second to last room before the staircase that led to the first floor, the door opened and Lord Falsted stepped out in front of her, blocking her path.

  “Lady Sloane, it is good that I finally found a moment to speak with you.”

  Sloane glanced over her shoulder. Empty corridor behind her. Falsted in front. The last thing she wanted at the moment was to tackle this snake by herself.

  Where were Claude and Lawrence? Reiner had had them discreetly shadowing Falsted’s every move since he arrived at Wolfbridge.

  Apparently, too discreetly.

  She forced the edges of her lips into a tight smile. “As it was, I was just about to retire for the evening.”

  “Come now, my lady, surely you have a few minutes to spare for the man that knows exactly why you initially came to Wolfbridge?”

  The smile at the corner of her lips wavered. “What is it you wish to say to me, Lord Falsted?”

  He motioned to the open doorway of the room he’d been lurking within. “Come. I believe you would want this conversation to be just as private as I would.”

  Sloane bit her tongue. No matter what, the man mustn’t know what she and Reiner were about.

  She gave a furtive glance over her shoulder one last time. No Claude. No Lawrence. But she would have taken anyone. She just needed one person—any person—to walk into the corridor and she could remove herself from Falsted’s tentacles.

  Not a soul.

  With a slight incline of her head, she moved into the dark room, positioning herself directly next to the door.

  Falsted stepped into the room, his hand reaching to close the door.

  “The door stays open, my lord,” she whispered.

  “As you wish.” His head tilted to the side and he stared at her for long seconds. Then the side of his mouth curled into a sneer. “You’re playing in much larger fields than you should be, little lamb.”

  “What are you insinuating?”

  “You came here for one small purpose, which has morphed into something much, much larger than you realize. Be sure you know where your loyalties should lie, before you commit to one side.”