Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) (19 page)

With the aid of Old Chinese, Alanna managed to sneak in to visit Wolf daily. At times the two of them put in brief public appearances wherever she was certain gossips would be, so they would inform her mother. Then she and Old Chinese would hurry to the Thompson home.

She was careful never to enter the premises without Old Chinese. He told her he wasn’t certain if the house was being watched, even though Wolf was kept well hidden.

Alanna grew wearier by the day. She slept little, and the strain of Wolf’s not awakening began to show.

Dr. Choate came regularly to check on his patient—nothing out of the ordinary since the doctor was Martha’s cousin, and it was the holiday season, but only Alanna and Old Chinese replaced the bandages and forced the liquids down Wolf’s throat. These past two days, except for assistance required to wrap his ribs, she’d tackled the burden on her own.

Dr. Choate and Old Chinese observed while she applied the last of the fresh bandages to Wolf’s side. “At least I know his exact degree of healing,” she murmured when she finished.

She wiped a thin film of perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand and, glancing at the clock over the mantel, shed a weary sigh. “Time for my nap, gentlemen. Off with you.”

When they left, she slid the wingback chair close to Wolf, and curled up with a chenille coverlet over her lap. Leaning her head against the chair’s back, she settled in to study his swollen and bruised countenance. This was her favorite time of day with him, quiet and peaceful.

Not a flicker to his gilded lashes. Memories of the night in his room at the Hotel Tremont—when he lay healthy and vibrant on his bed, impishly tempting her into the open crook of his arm—kept her company until she dozed.

When she roused, her neck had stiffened and her hip ached. She wriggled about until she found a more comfortable seat, then let her eyes flutter open. Her blurred vision drifted across the bed, focusing as she went. Her eyes flew wide as she shot forward.

Wolf’s left arm—it was in a different position!

She leaned her elbows on the bed and studied his hand as though it were a piece of fragile art come to life. Blood thundered in her ears. “You moved,” she whispered.

His lashes flickered.

“Wolf!”

Then she laughed while tears spilled freely. She slid onto the bed beside him, not daring to touch him, not daring to disturb his tender body, only near enough to feel his heat meld with hers.

 

 

Alanna’s velvet-soft laughter and her quiet sobbing washed through Wolf like a gentle spring rain.

An image, along with her scent, filtered through his numbed mind. An old, baronial manor house, sitting grand and majestic among tall pines grew clear in his mind.

The warmth of Alanna’s body swept through him.

His mind filled with fresh images of green meadows dotted with pastured horses, rolling hills cut through with the rush of a river, silver-blue ponds, and two graceful, white swans. Her warmth, her scent invaded his senses once again.

Had he returned home?

With all the strength his mind and body could summon, he willed his hand to inch forward until it touched the heat of her soft flesh.

“Oh, God, Wolf. You’re awake. Can you open your eyes? Speak to me.”

He heard tears in her voice, but he could not gather the strength to speak. He managed to squeeze her hand. She gasped and her breath brushed his cheek. She was so very close to him and yet, he couldn’t quite manage to open his eyes.

He tried to move, but pain pricked every part of him, and he grew pathetically weary from the effort. For now, he would sleep. But soon, very soon . . .

 

 

“It’s only been three days since you awoke and already you’re a holy terror of grumbles,” Little Mary chirped, busy tucking the covers around Wolf as though the child had a right to. A cigar box she carried everywhere sat cockeyed on the bed, threatening to spill over with every yank of the blankets.

Wolf tried to smile through split lips and winced. Damn, that hurt. He had an inkling she’d been playing the invisible eavesdropper downstairs again. “You’ve been hiding behind the woodstove again, you little sneak.” He also had a pretty good idea who she mimicked. “Alanna arrived, did she?”

Little Mary nodded and scrambled onto the bed with her legs dangling off the edge and her skirt twisted to her knees. She plopped the cigar box into her lap. “She’s having tea. Earl Grey. Mum’s favorite.”

“What’s in the box?”

“Treasure.”

“Buried treasure?” He winced as he tried to pull himself to a more upright position.

“No, silly. If it was buried, it wouldn’t be on my lap, now would it?”

If that didn’t sound like her father. Wolf winced again. “What’s it for?”

“Alanna’s birthday. I’m buying her a puppy. It’s a secret though, so you can’t say anything.”

Wolf bet no one knew of her little scheme. “Will you tell me all about it if I promise not to utter a word?”

Little Mary nodded. “Miss Malone and I were playing the
if only
game. Today we played ‘If only I had a puppy,’ and that’s when she told me she wanted a great pair of knees.”

“A what?” Wolf winced again at the spread of his grin.

Little Mary heaved an exasperated sigh. “I
said
a great-pair-of-knees dog.”

She rattled around in her cigar box while Wolf racked his brain. “Is that a white furry animal with a head like a bear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You mean a Great Pyrenees, Little Mary, that’s what those dogs are called. Look at me and repeat after me.” He said the name slowly while she studied his lips.

“That’s what I said, a great pair a knees.”

“So Alanna . . . Miss Malone wants a puppy. Do you know where to find one?”

Little Mary’s head pumped up and down. “Papa took me to Mr. Higginson’s store, and when Papa was chatting with another man, Mr. Higginson told me I could buy one of the two Great pair o . . . pyr . . . puppies he had left. It’s a boy one. He’s all preserved for me.”

“You mean reserved. Do you have enough money for this present?”

“Oh, yes! Papa gave me a whole, whole lot of money.” She opened the cigar box and set it under Wolf’s nose.

His gut wrenched at the box’s contents—a bunch of random buttons and a stack of worthless foreign currency. “How do you intend to bring the puppy home if it’s a surprise?”

“I thought you would be pretty much better by Christmas Eve, when it’s her birthday, and . . .” She shrugged and started swinging her little feet.

The idea of the oversized puppy for Alanna amused Wolf. What the hell, he should be up and around enough by then to drive a sleigh to the general store. “All right, but it’s our secret.”

“Done!” Little Mary scrambled off the bed, nearly dumping the contents of her cigar box. “Gotta go before Mum catches me in here.”

A few minutes later, Alanna swept into the room. “Good afternoon.” She grabbed his hairbrush and bent over him.

Wolf sniffed. “Ah, you’ve had tea. Earl Grey.”

Alanna stepped back, a crimson flush flooding her cheeks. “I do apologize. I . . . I usually nap about now, but since you’re awake at such odd times, I thought a little cup of tea would—”

The flush left her cheeks. Eyes narrowed, she bent to the floor and rose with one of Little Mary’s worthless coins between her fingers.

Wolf laughed, and then winced, fingering his cracked lips. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that hurt.”

Alanna continued staring blazes at him, the coin she swept from the floor held in midair. “Tea on my breath, my eye.”

“Have a sense of humor, will you?” He tried to shrug but groaned instead. “I need a little diversion from this hellacious boredom.”

She made her way to the credenza and set down the hairbrush. “What in blazes will you be like a little further down the road?”

Wolf watched the sway of her hips and lust kicked him in the loins. “If I wasn’t incapacitated, you’d be in a heap of trouble about now.”

She dragged the chair over to the bed and sat. A wanton grin tipped her lips. “You mean I can consider myself safe while alone with you in your bedchamber?”

Wolf managed to spread an arm out. “Come lie beside me, Alanna darlin’.”

The color in her cheeks heightened. “Don’t be absurd.”

“What could it possibly hurt in my condition?”

Her bold stare ended with a sweep of her sooty lashes. To his surprise, she stood, gingerly climbed onto the bed, and stretched alongside him, careful not to touch his injured flesh.

“How can I hold you when you’re so very far away,” he murmured. “Come closer.”

“I’m afraid of hurting you.”

“Then inch your way over,” he teased. But his eyes held hers as she followed his command. The scent of her skin, of freshly washed hair, invaded his senses. And then he caught the heat of her body. “I don’t suppose you’ll take your hair down for me?”

“I don’t suppose I will.” She nestled as close as she dared, her voice soft, receptive. With the slightest touch, she ran her finger over his cheek.

Damaged as he was, a part of his body still rose to the occasion. “Am I your knight in shining armor now, Miss Alanna Malone?”

She nodded and her finger traced a cut near his eye. “With a few dents, sir.”

Warmth flowed through him. “The worst of it is that right now I want to kiss you, and I can’t.”

“Shh, close your eyes,” she whispered. “You’re wearing yourself out.” She touched his lids, feather soft, forcing his eyes to close. Her fingers traced his cheek, and then slid to the golden hoop. “At least the bastards didn’t tear this out of your ear.”

Anger ground through him. No, they’d gotten his mother’s earring, and when he was up and around, by God someone would pay. Eyes heavy, he drifted off. Thought scattered as Alanna’s warmth and her sweet scent surrounded and lulled him.

 

 

When he came slowly awake, his first awareness was of the empty space beside him. He’d known she’d be gone, because the day had grown late, but her absence left him feeling hollow.

Still drugged by the impact to his skull and the pain medication he’d been given, Wolf struggled toward consciousness. The soft glow of lamplight filtered through his heavy lids. He must have slept longer than usual. The awareness of another’s presence permeated his senses. He wasn’t alone. His lids fluttered open.

The wingback chair, set farther back from the bed, was cast in a long ribbon of shadow. Booted feet, long, sinewy legs, and broad shoulders barely fitting the width of the chair caught Wolf’s eye. He grunted in surprise when he saw who it was. “Thompson isn’t particular about who he lets in, is he?”

Trevor Andrews, the other owner of the Andrews Shipping Company, sat with his chin propped in one hand. “
Merde
. You look as though you were buried deep and then dug back up as an afterthought.”

Wolf moaned. “Ever the arrogant French Creole.” He winced again. “I thought you sailed to China.”

Trevor shook his head. “Once Celine learned my father had been ill, she insisted we change our plans. We spent two weeks trying to convince him to sell the plantation and move to England with us, but he refused so we had no choice but to leave without him. We settled in Liverpool in late October, where I’m back heading up the main offices.”

“You came all this way to harass me?”

“Actually, I arrived in Boston to meet with our shipbuilder about delivery of another clipper. Thought I might pay you a visit after Thompson told me what happened.” Trevor stood and moved to the bed. “You have a very poor sense of timing,
mon frère
. I was in the middle of the Atlantic during your altercation. At least when I took an arrow in my back, I had the courtesy to invite you along,
Archibald Gray
.”

“You’ve been talking to that detective, haven’t you? That’s my middle name, goddamn it, and if you—”

Trevor chuckled, but reached out and covered Wolf’s hand with his own, his countenance shifting. “Let’s not wear you out. I came to tell you that I’ll do whatever needs doing to get this mess behind us.”

Us?
“Thanks.” An odd emotion wormed its way through Wolf. The idea that people cared about what happened to him was too new to feel comfortable. He looked toward a darkened corner of the room and struggled for a deep breath, the kind that shot arrows of pain through him.

Trevor dropped his hand to his side. “It’s no longer safe for you in this town.” The authority in his voice told Wolf not to bother arguing. “As soon as you’re able to be moved, you should return with Old Chinese to the farm. Once you’re in good enough shape to travel farther, come to England. We’ll work from both sides of the Atlantic to solve your mother’s death. And believe me, we
will
do so.”

“You don’t mince words, do you? Why England?”

“Our men have been able to trace the missing funds as far as Scotland.” Trevor raised a hand, signaling Wolf to lie still. “
Merde
. I hope I wasn’t as unruly as you while I recovered. And don’t speak. I have too much to tell you and you’re already pale.”

“Aw, hell,” was all Wolf managed to accomplish. He must’ve had a double dose of something to ease the pain because his mind was muddled.

“Thompson mentioned you’ve recalled that as a child, you had caretakers of Scottish descent. Do you remember their names, anything about them?”

Wolf managed a small shake of his head. Trevor was right; he wore out fast.

“While you lie around healing, try to remember anything you can. The smallest scrap of information could very well be the missing piece to the puzzle.”

“I’m having dreams,” Wolf said. “You probably know about the ones with the smoky mirror, but now, I’m having strange dreams of a manor house that seems oddly familiar. Don’t get much, just a feeling.”