Hunter sighed in relief. “Best idea you’ve had all afternoon.”
****
Hunter fidgeted with the glass in his hand as Dominique took another sip. “I imagine you want me to apologize for pointing a pistol at your head.”
“That would be nice.”
“Forget it.” Dominique cursed. “How was I to know the entire story? Is her family aware of her activities for the Crown?”
Hunter set the glass down and leaned back into the plush leather of the chair. “If they did not before, they will soon.”
“Hmm.” Dominique lifted the glass to his lips and winced as he took a swig. “Does she know?”
“Know?” Hunter repeated.
“About Lucy.”
All it took was the mention of his dead wife’s name and the smile, the one that had become a permanent fixture on his face during the entirety of the afternoon, faded away. “Not everything.”
“And Ash?”
“Somewhat. Only that I had a twin brother I thought dead, nothing more.”
Dominique set his glass down and leaned forward. “I imagine I am the last person you would ever think to give marriage advice, but it would be wise for you to tell her of your past, sooner not later.”
The smile had turned into a frown as Hunter thought of his past, of the gory details. Was he ready to be that vulnerable with another human being? Dominique knew all his secrets, but up until a few months ago, he’d had his own demons to face.
Now it seemed that Hunter was alone in his darkness. It would be life’s cruelest joke to find another woman in his life only to bring her down into the pit he so casually resided in.
“And if I cannot tell her?” he finally asked, not wanting to look Dominique in the eyes as he said it.
A sigh escaped Dominique before he picked up his whiskey and took another long swallow. “Then you may as well leave again.”
“Leave?”
“Yes, leave. As in quit the continent. My friend, you do not want to live in a marriage that is one-sided. Where the woman you care about gives of herself until it hurts, where you hold back pieces of who you are. In the end, it will end in the death of her spirit and the death of your soul. Your marriage deserves the best chance it can get. All things considered, by not telling her of your past, you shoot yourself in the foot before you take one step toward that altar.”
“When did wisdom suddenly give you the benefit of its blessing?”
Dominique chuckled. “Easy, I married her.”
“Cheers.” Hunter held up his glass. “To women.”
With a laugh and a clink, Dominique finished his glass. “To women!”
“Huzzah!” a few men shouted behind them.
Conversation shifted to Dominique and his family, as well as Hunter’s upcoming nuptials, but as much as Hunter tried, he couldn’t find the smile that had plagued him before. The pressure of the world seemed to cave in on him. The minute Dominique had opened his mouth and spouted off all that ridiculousness about being honest with one’s wife was the minute Hunter found it not only difficult to breathe but also blasted hot.
It was not fair to keep such things from Gwen, but fear has its way of keeping him from moving forward.
In that moment, Hunter saw everything within his reach. A woman who would both challenge and ignite him. A life filled with the comfort of being around his friends. The life that, not nine years ago, he had lusted after and strived for was once again within his reach.
So why couldn’t he have it? What was causing this panic?
Nine years ago, he had felt happy, free, his smile as wide as it had been today, and in an instant he had lost it all.
When God chose to bless a person, it was both frightening and wonderful. For one had to wonder, when everything was going right, when everything was perfect, were you only one step away from disaster?
Excusing himself early, Hunter left and went in search of the Horse and Hare. He knew what he had to do. He had to solve the mystery of the ciphers now. If not, he shuddered to think of what hung in the balance.
His future happiness and Gwen’s depended on his success and this time, he would not fail.
Chapter Twenty-five
Wolf—
I imagine she is quite content to be in your dreams. Perhaps you should think upon that instead of the blood and death. Think of the very idea that this woman, this love, is in your dreams every night, exactly where she desires to be, for dreams are directly connected to one’s heart. And it seems that her heart is yours for the taking.
—Red
The establishment was poorly lit and filled with more drunks than Hunter cared to surround himself with.
He quickly moved through the crowds of gentlemen slapping one another on the back and belching, and sat down.
“You’re early,” a voice said behind him. Was everyone sneaking up on him these days? Perhaps retirement truly was in the cards for him.
He waited until Wilkins sat down across from him.
Wilkins looked quite normal for having just lost a very important part of his case. “Redding is dead, as you well know.”
“Yes, which only leaves us Hollins, considering we traced a smuggling ring back to Trehmont — nothing there.”
“I would not discount Trehmont.” Wilkins appeared thoughtful. “After all, he is just desperate enough for the money to do it.”
Hunter nodded. “But he has been making quite a lot of blunt from his smuggling. Why would he need more?”
Wilkins shrugged. “Greed. A person always wants more. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Something shifted in the air. Hunter examined Wilkins’ face. He appeared tired, but not upset or even depressed that he had lost Redding.
“I am sorry about Redding. If I would have been there sooner…” Hunter trailed off.
Wilkins waved him away. “It is not your fault. Besides, it is possible that he was the spy in the first place. In fact…” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a few notes. “We found these at his residence.”
“What are they?” Hunter picked up each sheet of paper. Codes littered the front of them. Obviously it was impossible to decipher them without his grandfather’s help.
“Proof.”
“Of?”
“Treason.” Wilkins shook his head. “Though I hate to see Redding take the fall. He was, after all, a decorated hero and a good man. The money must have been too hard to pass up.”
“Right.” Hunter looked closely at the codes and noticed that the tiny symbols did not resemble the first note he’d received. “And you say these are perfect copies of the notes given to the front lines?”
“Absolutely.” Wilkins grimaced and rose to his feet. “Keep them for now. If you would like to have them deciphered, that is fine by me. They are, after all, old news.”
Hunter stuffed the codes into his pocket. “Is that all?”
“This investigation is over, for now.” Wilkins rose to his feet. Hunter grabbed his arm, motioning for him to wait.
“It is about Red.” He scratched his head. “It seems I have compromised her.”
“Her cover is blown?” Wilkins whispered.
“I did not compromise her in that capacity.” Hunter looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “I compromised her, if you get my meaning.”
“Tossed her skirts, did you?”
Oh, how he wished! “Not yet, though I came close.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time someone was interested in that little delicacy, believe me. How do you think the woman was able to infiltrate into Napoleon’s elite so quickly?”
Hunter saw red. He clenched his fist and pounded the table. “Never speak of her in that way again. She is to be my wife.”
“Is she?” Wilkins smiled, and then chuckled, and finally threw his head back and gave in to full-on laughter. “This is more perfect than I could have imagined it.”
“Perfect?” Hunter’s fist was still clenched. He was seconds away from flattening
the man.
Wilkins wiped his eyes and shook his head. “Yes, well. Congratulations are in order, good fellow. When is the wedding?”
“Special license, three days.”
“Are you resigning?” Wilkins asked.
Was he? Why were things so complicated? “Yes, I believe I am.”
“I remember when you resigned the first time, and look how that turned out.”
Hunter jerked to his feet and glared. “Explain yourself.”
Wilkins took a step back from Hunter. His eyes never wavered as he looked him up and down. “Just reminding you of what happens when you allow your emotions to rule your decisions, friend.”
Cursing, Hunter ran his hands through his hair and looked away. “Are we done?”
“More than you know, Hunter. More than you know.” With that, Wilkins walked off, leaving Hunter more confused than ever. Yet the weight on his chest was lifted. He was doing the right thing. His priorities were straight. For the first time in nine years, the guilt that had weighed so heavily on his heart did not seem so heavy. A fresh start. He had been given a fresh start.
He pulled out the codes again. Something wasn’t right about the way the symbols were drawn. They reminded him of the last note Redding had had in his possession. There had been two codes on that note. Redding would have only understood one.
Hollins had led Redding to his death. Hunter was sure of that now. But what did Wilkins have to do with everything? What wasn’t he telling Hunter? He could not be trusted, and now that he was closing the investigation, things seemed more suspicious. Redding could not have possibly been the mole, or could he? Perhaps Wilkins had suspected Redding and Hollins had carried everything out, and then when they had discovered he was bad, they eliminated him. So why go to so much trouble to hire Hunter and Gwen to discover the traitor?
His head hurt. To make matters worse, he was to be married in three days. He only hoped he would make it to the wedding without getting shot or worse, killed.
Chapter Twenty-six
Red—
I think that is the kindest thing you have ever said to me. Care to repeat it? Perhaps you like me more than you did a few weeks ago? Admit it. You care. I’m waiting for the words you’re dying to say. The phrase is something like this, “I am in love with a wolf.”
—Wolf
Gwen stared at her reflection in the mirror and practiced her smile. She had to appear happy instead of afraid. For heaven’s sake, she was a spy! Acting should come naturally, but the minute the last button was fastened on her dress, she began to panic. Her hands shook and everything became fuzzy in front of her.
What was she doing? Willingly walking down the aisle toward the man who had the power to destroy her or save her with one breath? Her eyes gave her away, and Hunter would know it the minute he saw her. He would see her hesitation.
She blinked several times, and tried to think of the benefits of marrying someone who was more beautiful than any man she had ever come across before in her existence.
He kissed well. She laughed to herself. Well did not even begin to describe what that man could do with his mouth.
His eyes were hypnotizing.
His hands, well… she shivered and bit her lip.
His laugh, his easygoing manner, and finally the pain he tried to hide behind every second of every day.
Marriage to Hunter would be the scariest and possibly one of the stupidest decisions she had made yet. At the end of the day, there was no one else’s arms she would rather be in.
“Ready?” Rosalind burst into the room, Isabelle following close behind.
They’d insisted on more than just a private ceremony, but still only invited around fifty close friends.
“As I’ll ever be.” Gwen turned to them and smiled, hoping that she looked convincing and not like she was about to burst into tears at any second.
“You look beautiful.” Isabelle grasped her hands and sighed. “I am so glad you decided to wear a bit of red. It looks like you.”
Gwen laughed. “It will shock him, that much is certain.” She glanced at her reflection again. The dress was ivory, with silver embellishments around the capped sleeves trailing all the way down her back. The silver-encrusted design also twirled about her sleeves and ended right below her breasts, creating a beautiful design of flowers. It was beautiful, gorgeous actually, but it had needed something. So she’d put a red ribbon in her hair.
The ribbon would match her red cape as well as her red roses. Hunter would probably have a heart attack when he saw her, thinking she was getting married in red, but she felt more like herself, more comfortable this way.
In a way, it was a sign for him. She needed him to see that he was not only marrying the woman the ton saw as Lady Gwendolyn, but also the spy Red. She was both people, just as he was both Hunter and Wolf.
“Beautiful.” Rosalind sighed behind her. “Now, you’ve kept him waiting long enough. In an hour, you will be a married woman!”
Gwen swallowed the emotion in her throat and followed her sisters out the door and down the stairs.
The wedding was being held at a small chapel on the back of Dominique and Isabelle’s estate in town. With a deep breath, she walked toward her future.
****
“What the devil is taking her so long?” Hunter paced in front of Montmouth and Dominique.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the great Wolf was a bit nervous.” Dominique chuckled and elbowed Montmouth, who still looked like he was just waiting for the opportune moment to shoot Hunter in the face.
“Oh, do stop glaring,” Hunter mumbled to Montmouth.
“I am not glaring, I am merely…” He cursed and joined Hunter in his pacing. “She is my responsibility. I just need to know I am doing the right thing.”
“Too late to go back now.” Dominique looked at Montmouth and then Hunter. “By the by, when did I turn into the optimistic one of the group?”
This received a much needed chuckle from both Montmouth and Hunter.
Rosalind poked her head into the room adjacent to the main chapel and announced, “It is time!”
Hunter suddenly felt ill.
“Not the best time to lose your nerve.” Dominique grinned. “Now, go, it seems you have a bride waiting to marry you.”
Montmouth and Dominique led the way out of the room. Hunter followed and then took his place at the head of the aisle, next to the vicar.
He should be excited, but memories of his first wedding overwhelmed his brain, making it impossible to focus on anything.
Lucy had worn blue.
Her eyes had shone with tears. Her grandfather had refused to walk her down the aisle on the principal that she was marrying a rogue.
Eastbrook had done the honors.
It had been the happiest day of his life.
How could he have known that their first anniversary would result in her death? That the light that danced in her eyes would be dead in another three hundred and sixty-five days?
His hands shook, and he folded them behind him. The last thing Hunter wanted was for Gwen to think he was regretting the decision to marry her. If anything, it wasn’t regret; no, it was more like fear. No, absolute terror. God had given him another woman, another responsibility, and he would rather die than for her to suffer the same fate as Lucy.
The doors opened.
Gwen emerged.
In a red cape.
He burst out laughing, causing quite a few loud whispers to rise within the small chapel.
With a wink, she took off the cape, revealing a beautiful ivory dress fit for a princess. He did not deserve the way she looked, nor the twinkle in her eyes when she pointed to the ribbon in her hair and grabbed the red roses from the basket Montmouth held out to her.
The music began, she took a step on Montmouth’s arm, and then the doors opened again.
His eyes had to be deceiving him, for the man who came into the chapel was Lainhart.
And his bu
tler was with him, looking as shaggy as ever. Did the man ever shave? Or bathe for that matter? The butler pushed Lainhart’s wheeled chair in front of Montmouth and then spoke in hushed tones.
Montmouth jerked his head back and then asked Gwen a question. She nodded her head yes and kissed Montmouth on the cheek, and then she took Lainhart’s knobby hand within hers and turned toward Hunter.
The music started again.
But this time, it was Lainhart who proudly held his head as high as he could as he gripped Gwen’s hand. The butler pushed the wheeled chair forward. People continued to whisper. Hunter looked to Gwen for confirmation that everything was all right, that she was indeed happy to have Lainhart escort her, a man she knew Hunter did not do well with.
Her smile was bright, her eyes glistened with tears, and then she nodded her head to Lainhart who, with his free hand, pointed at the blackboard in his lap and showed it to the audience as they continued down the aisle.
“My new granddaughter” is what it said.
And Hunter found that the emotions he’d been trying so desperately to keep inside, the ones that had been threatening to overtake him for years, burst free.
And he was again a man broken.
Only this time, his undoing was not death.
But life.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Wolf—
You may be waiting a very, very long time. Perhaps it would be wise to lower your expectations. I know I did.
—Red
Gwen gripped Hunter’s hand. It was sweaty and shaking, and then she saw it. If she had been looking the other way she would have never known, but a stray tear made its way down his chiseled face and dropped onto the floor.
And then he turned his golden eyes to her. Their gazes locked and all she cared about was kissing away his pain, of being his partner in more than one way, of being his savior. His everything.
The vicar announced them husband and wife. People clapped, but she could barely hear anything going on around her. All she was focused on was Hunter’s eyes. He leaned in and touched his lips lightly to hers and then placed both hands on either side of her face, pulling her in for a longer kiss. It was a branding, a burning kiss, and one that showed possession.
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