The Wolf's Betrothed (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 5)

by Patricia Blackmoor

  The skirt of my gown swished across the snow as Adam guided me, his arm around my waist, to the shoveled walkway. The gown I wore had been one of the dresses we’d picked up from the shop the day I tried on the muslin of my wedding gown. The taffeta was dyed a deep emerald that shimmered in the candlelight, and was embroidered with swirls of black velvet along the skirt. The neckline was cut to a sweetheart style that accented my collar bones, and the thick sash made my waist appear much smaller than it actually was. I didn’t mind. It was Christmas, the time for miracles, after all.

  I’d chosen the green gown on purpose. It caught the color of my engagement ring, a beautiful emerald stone flanked by a circle of diamonds. Weylyn was a small town, and most people already knew of my engagement to Adam, but I wanted to show it off a bit, if I was being honest. I paired the ring with a set of diamond and emerald earrings that didn’t quite match, but wouldn’t be noticeable unless I held the two pieces of jewelry next to each other.

  My mother had spent the whole day getting ready, hair in pincurls, creams on her face. I hadn’t gone that elaborate, but I had spent a fair bit of time making sure my hair was set just so and that my face was powdered to get rid of shine. The men, on the other hand, had been ready to go as soon as their suits were on and a brush had been run through their hair. That didn’t make Adam any less attractive, of course, and his green eyes lit up, reflected by my emerald dress, and he reached back to tuck a stray lock of blond hair behind his ear as he grinned at me.

  Now we walked arm-in-arm into the massive manor belonging to the duke. This was where we had come when the duke was searching for his bride, and I’d been here a few times since for various parties, always on the arm of Adam, or for visits with Christine. My burgeoning familiarity with Wolf’s Peak in no way prepared me for the sight when we entered the mansion. Annabelle had mentioned that she’d taken the decorating duties on her shoulders, since Christine was forbidden from climbing on ladders in her condition. Annabelle had decorated the home to perfection. Candles flickered in every nook and cranny, accompanied with clusters of pine and birch. Christmas trees stood tall in the main hall and throughout the main level, each covered in tinsel and baubles and a star at the top.

  “My goodness,” I breathed as I shrugged off my cloak and handed it over to Mr. Potter, the very overwhelmed butler.

  As we moved farther into the crowded house, the scents of Christmas wafted through the rooms, a mix of fir and cinnamon and cider and chocolate. My mouth watered.

  “Where to first?” Adam asked.

  “Could we get something to drink?”

  “Of course,” he said, taking me by the elbow so we wouldn’t get separated. We weaved our way through to the dining room, where a sideboard was set up with all sorts of cookies and confections. I took a plate and added a few little chocolates and a gingerbread cookie shaped like a Christmas tree. Across the rooms were stations for various drinks. I waited by the table until one of the servers waved me over.

  “Hello, miss,” said the man. “Hazel, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said, speaking louder than usual over the din of the crowd. “How did you know?”

  “A friend of your brother’s,” he answered. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Cider please.”

  He moved to pour me a glass when he frowned. “Looks like I need to refill. I’ll be back in a dash.”

  “No rush,” I said with a warm smile.

  A few moments later he returned with a new pitcher and a glass with the golden drink.

  “Thank you,” I called out to him as Adam moved over to me with a cup of hot cocoa and together we squeezed out of the dining room and over to the ballroom. The room held much more open space than the rest of the level had; a few round tables were scattered around, and on the far side of the room, a pianist was playing carols. It seemed an eon ago that I had sat on that very same piano bench with the duke as he implied that Adam and I were meant to be together.

  I caught sight of my parents at one of the tables, and they waved us over. Careful not to spill, we twisted around a few inebriated guests and sat down with them. My father was animatedly talking to a few of the duke’s councilmen, Roderick Melle and Peter Rollins. I set my cider down first as Adam pulled out the chair for me. I sat down, breaking off a piece from the gingerbread cookie, but when I looked up to take a drink of my cider, it wasn’t there anymore.

  “What the—” I murmured. I took a look next to me to see that Roderick had taken it. Whether he had mistaken it for his or had taken it on purpose I wasn’t sure, but it was an inconvenience either way.

  “You all right, love?” Adam asked.

  I leaned in so he could hear me above the carolers across the room, but no one else could listen in. “Roderick stole my cider.”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Wait here. I’ll go get you another.”

  “Actually, would you mind getting me a hot cocoa? I think this gingerbread would go better with that.”

  He pushed his mug toward me. “Take mine, and I’ll get another.”

  My hands closed around the warm ceramic. “Thank you.”

  He stood up and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll return in a moment,” he promised.

  What I didn’t know was that his leaving would leave me vulnerable. The moment he disappeared into the crowd, Peter’s wife Bernadette swooped in and took his spot.

  “Hazel!” she exclaimed, taking my hand. Her chubby hands were surprisingly cold and clammy, and her long nails pierced my skin. I noticed that yet again she hadn’t managed to keep her lipstick within the lines of her lips.

  “Hello, Lady Rollins,” I said, extracting my hand.

  “Please, call me Bernie. Everyone else does, and soon enough, you’ll be one of us!”

  I gave her a polite nod. I suspected that when it came to the councilmen’s wives, I’d prefer to spend my time with Christine and Annabelle rather than Bernadette. I might get caught up in the tornado of red hair piled on her head.

  “Now,” she said, “between girls, you must tell me everything that happened.”

  I feigned ignorance. I knew what she wanted, but perhaps if I asked her to explain she’d realize the rudeness of her request on her own. “What do you mean?”

  “Lillian Hilton, of course!” Her excitement was unabashed. “You must tell me what happened!”

  “Surely you’ve heard by now.”

  “Only rumors,” she said with a wave of her hand. Funny since rumors were her bread and butter.

  “I’m sure they’re mostly true.”

  “But I need to hear it straight from the source! I’ve heard she was insanely jealous, is that true?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘insanely’—”

  “But she did try to attack you over Adam, isn’t that true?”

  I shifted in my seat. “Well, yes.”

  “I knew it!” she cried, not bothering to hide her delighted smile. “She attacked you because she was in love with him, wasn’t that it?”

  My eyes looked over her red hair, scouring the crowd for Adam. “That’s what she claims.”

  “How dramatic! Did you have any idea?”

  “That she would attack me, or that she was in love with Adam?”

  “Both, I suppose.”

  “It was very unexpected.” That might have been underselling it, but with Bernadette, that was probably the way to go.

  “And she seemed like such a sweet girl. No hint of madness at all,” Bernadette sighed. Clearly, she had known Lillian in a far different capacity than I had.

  “It was unexpected,” I repeated.

  I caught eyes with Adam. Finally, a savior. I pursed my lips and tilted my head just a touch toward Bernadette, and he grasped my meaning right away. With his cocoa in his hands, he approached the seat she had stolen from him.

  “Wonderful to see you, Bernadette,” Adam said. “Do you mind if I sit with my fiancée?”

  “Oh, of course not,” she said, shoving back
her chair so she could maneuver her ample rear away from the table. She reached over and put her hand against Adam’s cheek. “You two are so sweet together, I wouldn’t dare stand in your way. Or sit, as in this instance.”

  She waddled over to sit beside her husband, who had taken Roderick’s place beside my father. My father was talking with him, and once Bernadette sat down, she and my mother began to converse. That was probably not going to be in my favor.

  “How is the cocoa?” asked Adam.

  “Oh! I haven’t even tasted it yet, I was so distracted,” I said. I brought the cup to my lips. “As delicious as you might imagine.”

  “You’re right. Much better choice than the cider, I’m betting,” Adam said with a grin.

  Across the table, Peter stood up from his seat. “Come on, Bernie. I need to find Roderick.”

  “Oh, all right,” she said. “I’d love to get some more of those pastries.”

  The two of them wandered away, and I was finally able to relax a bit.

  “Wonderful couple,” my mother sighed when they had left. I’d never trusted her taste in people.

  “They’re something,” I replied.

  “Oh darling, look, isn’t that Annabelle?” my mother asked. I looked up and Annabelle and I locked eyes. Dragging her husband beside her, they sat next to Adam and me.

  “Having fun?” Annabelle asked.

  “It’s certainly crowded,” I said.

  “There hasn’t been a Christmas party here in years. We wanted it to be big.”

  “You’ve certainly accomplished that,” I said, taking in all the people meandering in and out of the ballroom.

  “Have you seen Christine yet?” Adam asked.

  “I saw her a little earlier,” Annabelle said.

  “I haven’t seen her yet,” I said. “I’d like to say hello, see how she’s feeling.”

  “I’m sure she’ll make her way over here soon,” Annabelle said. “Oh, there she is!”

  Christine walked into the room on the arm of Jasper. She was stunning in the candlelight, dressed in a deep red, a stark contrast from her porcelain skin. Her dark hair was twisted back, secured with a sparkling comb. Jasper pointed in our direction, and when she laid eyes on our table, her eyes lit up. Adam and I offered her a small wave to beckon her over.

  The duke and duchess were on their way to our table when they were blocked by Bernadette and Peter. From the animated way Bernadette was talking, and the way she leaned in close, I suspected that she was once again gathering gossip, this time about the duke’s brother and his attack on Christine. I watched as Christine’s expression began to falter and her smile faded. After a moment, she whispered something to Jasper and fled the room.

  Jasper maneuvered around Bernadette and came to sit with us.

  “Is Christine all right?” I asked.

  He offered a tight smile. “Just needed to use the loo.”

  “Not uncommon in the last few months of pregnancy,” Annabelle said, but her smile, too, was worried.

  “All right,” I said.

  “Are you all having fun?” Jasper asked.

  “We’re delighted to be here,” my mother offered up as I forced myself not to roll my eyes.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Jasper said. “I don’t know that we’ve truly, properly met. You’re Hazel’s parents, is that correct? Mr. and Mrs. Ackerman?”

  “Norman and Dorothy are fine, Your Grace.”

  “We’re excited to welcome Hazel into our family here at Wolf’s Peak,” Jasper said. “In fact, I daresay she’s already a part of it.”

  I looked down at my lap, unable to contain a smile.

  “Just take good care of her,” my father said.

  Jasper’s eyes grew serious. “I wouldn’t consider anything else.”

  “It’s just, after the thing with the Hilton girl…”

  “She will be safe whenever she is with us,” Jasper assured him. “We live dangerous lives sometimes, but we protect the ones we love.”

  My father gave a curt nod. “Glad to hear it,” he said, and that was the end of it.

  “Hazel,” Jasper said, turning to me, “I wanted to thank you for helping Christine get accustomed to Weylyn. I’ve thanked Annabelle, but I haven’t really had a chance to thank you.” His gray-blue eyes held an intense earnestness. I could only nod.

  “I believe it’s helped more than you will ever know.”

  “Whatever I can do to help her adjust,” I said. “I’m sure it’s a lot to take in.” Christine’s story wasn’t known by many, but she had shared it with me. She had been destitute when Annabelle found her, and the life of a duchess was a far cry from the life she’d known.

  “Speaking of Christine,” I said, leaning over to Annabelle. “Should we go make sure she’s all right?”

  “She’s been gone awhile. That’s not a bad idea,” Annabelle said. Together we stood up from our chairs.

  “We’ll be right back,” Annabelle called out as the piano music ended and the musician stood up to take a break.

  Annabelle took my arm and we started out into the hallway when Christine’s scream broke through the air.

  Chapter Three

  Annabelle and I froze in place as the scream pierced the air, then we rushed forward, skirts clutched in our hands, to find our friend. The sound had come from the back of the house, so we tried to shove our way through the crowded corridor. Others had heard the sound, but they could only look around confused, unaware of who had screamed. Together we pushed through, desperate to get to Christine. My thoughts raced with terrifying possibilities: had she been hurt? Injured? Was the baby coming early?

  Annabelle and I weren’t the only ones concerned. Jasper almost leapt over the crowd, anxious to find his wife. While Annabelle and I were hampered by our heavy skirts, Jasper was able to maneuver himself through his guests. It may have been his celebrity, too; when his visitors saw that he was rushing down the hallway, they gave him a wide berth. Annabelle and I took advantage of the parting of the guests, following closely behind him, our breathing short and anxious.

  Jasper’s head whipped around as he tried to find his wife. His eyes finally landed on the back door, cracked open slightly, where the continuing scream was coming from. He shoved the door open, a blast of frigid air striking us as we stumbled out onto the balcony.

  Christine was pressed back against the wall, her face pale and her body shaking. Jasper gathered her in his arms and she collapsed into him, sobbing.

  “Christine, what is it? What’s wrong?” Jasper asked, his voice low but urgent.

  We saw it before he did, but when Christine pointed, it caught his eye. Across the balcony, lying in a lump by the railing, was a person. The light from the house didn’t extend this far, but the dark outline was definitely human. My heart raced as Annabelle and I exchanged a look. When Jasper realized what was out there, he let Christine go, rushing through the powdered snow and kneeling beside the body. As soon as Jasper had left, Annabelle and I filled the gap, supporting Christine, keeping her warm in the frosty air. Her eyes never left her husband or the body he was examining.

  I cocked my head as Jasper rolled the body over. All the air left my lungs as I looked into empty eyes and bloodstained snow.

  “Who is it?” Annabelle asked, her eyes searching my face.

  “It’s Roderick,” I murmured.

  Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, God,” she gasped.

  Christine sobbed, and Annabelle and I held her tightly as the crowd on the balcony grew. Tears streamed down her face as she shook. I couldn’t imagine how horrific the discovery had been for her. She was lucky she hadn’t fainted.

  There was a commotion at the door. “Connor, no!” Christine cried out as a man with copper hair pushed through the crowd. I had met him a few times—he was Roderick’s nephew. He froze for a moment before kneeling down to examine the body.

  Christine’s maid, Bridget, came running up to us. “What happened?” she asked. “We were t
alking in the kitchen, and then I saw a bunch of people rush to the door.”

  I looked between the other girls, none of us able to speak. I swallowed before whispering, “Roderick’s dead.”

  Christine pulled her arms around herself, her lips turning blue and her lip trembling. “Not just dead. He was killed.”

  Bridget’s jaw dropped. “You’re sure?”

  “Would have been hard to do that to himself,” she said.

  Annabelle pulled her aside, and the two chatted for a moment, Christine rubbing her arms and glancing continuously over at the men knelt down next to the body.

  “Did you see anything?” Bridget asked me, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. Unlike the rest of us, she hadn’t been outside long enough to start shivering.

  I shook my head. “Last time I saw him was in the ballroom. He seemed fine then.”

  “Christine found him?”

  I glanced over at Christine. “Yeah. She’s pretty shaken up, as you can imagine.”

  “Poor girl. That’s horrifying.” Bridget’s eyes were full of concern as she gazed over at Christine and Annabelle.

  Jasper stood up from the body, brushing the snow off of his coat, but most of it had already soaked through. “Everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight,” he said. “Unfortunately, there’s been a medical emergency, and we’re going to have to bring this party to a close.”

  Someone from the back of the crowd yelled, “Is he dead?”

  Jasper’s mouth twitched. “Unfortunately, yes. It appears he’s had a heart attack.”

  A heart attack? I had seen the blood splattered on the snow. The men were covering something up.

  “We truly appreciate you coming to celebrate the holidays with us,” Jasper continued. “Please have safe travels home. Merry Christmas.”

  Jasper quickly crossed to Christine and wrapped her in his arms. Behind us, people had turned to go back into the house. We lingered just a moment longer, giving Annabelle time to catch up with us, before we followed suit.