To Catch a Wolf (23 page)

injuries may not be obvious to the eye.”

The dwarf, Ulysses, stepped forward. "You need not worry, Mr. Munroe. We will take

care of her until the doctor arrives.”

Niall nodded. "I'll be back within the hour. Athena—”

"I will stay here, with Caitlin," she said. Her quiet conviction promised a lengthy

argument if he protested.

"Mr. French, please get my sister her chair," he said. Belatedly he remembered Cecily

Hockensmith and the other ladies. Miss Hockensmith stood safely beyond the ring of

circus folk, her face set in a frown. The expression quickly transformed to one of worry

when she caught his glance.

"Miss Hockensmith," he said, getting to his feet, "will you stay with Athena? I would be

much obliged.”

"Of course." She smiled tentatively as he made his way through the crowd. "I will do

whatever I can.”

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"Thank you." He pressed her hand in passing and strode toward the tent's wide

entrance. Once there he paused, half afraid that Caitlin would not be where he had left

her.

But the crowd had dispersed enough to reveal her figure, covered now by a blanket as

well as his coat. Harry French brought Athena's chair, and Holt settled her into it.

Ulysses knelt beside Caitlin, speaking in his soft, pleasant Southern drawl.

Niall turned on his heel and headed for the carriage. The doctor would see to Caitlin.

Now that the performance was effectively ended, time and distance would take care of

Morgan Holt, whatever his interest in Athena, and dispose of the very unwelcome

complication the circus had caused the Munroes.

He couldn't wait for life to return to normal again.

Cecily stood with her hand resting on the back of Athena's chair and cursed Niall

Munroe for the hundredth time.

Damn him. Damn him for giving in to his sister and her whims, damn him for making

eyes at this crude snip of a girl, and damn him for leaving her here with these horrible

people and their nauseating sentiments.

"Thank you for remaining," Athena said. "I know that this is not a pleasant situation, but I

am grateful.”

Cecily smiled. "You know that I would do anything for you and your brother, my dear,"

she said. She looked with distaste upon the red-haired devil's imp, whose flat chest

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seemed even less substantial when she lay on her back. What in heaven's name did

Niall see in such a creature?

For he had seen something, of that she was sure. Her senses were remarkably keen

where her own interests were concerned. She had noted how he ignored her while he

watched the girl perform. He had failed to respond to several of her comments. He had

left her sitting on the hard chair without a word of explanation and gone running off to be

with his new flirt just because she had taken a little fall.

"There, now," the fat old man, Harry French, said to the girl. "It will be all right.”

"Of course it will," Athena said. "Niall will get our own doctor. He is the best Denver has

to offer.”

Caitlin made much effort to return the smile, doubtless basking in the attention. "It is

very kind of you, Athena.”

Athena. Cecily shuddered. How could Niall's sister allow the whore to call her by her

Christian name? Cecily scowled and felt a prickle sweep up her spine.

Morgan Holt was watching her. He stood too close to Athena, on the other side of the

chair, like some black-haired watchdog. It was if he could see right through Cecily and

into her thoughts. She had disliked him instantly, but his low status made it possible to

dismiss him. That was not so easy when he was a few feet away.

This was what came of Niall's permissiveness. She had thought that battle all but won.

Now she must regroup, and consider new strategies to pave the way for Athena's

departure from Denver.

She met Morgan Holt's stare and smiled with sure knowledge of her own superiority. So

he found Athena attractive, did he? Niall must have observed the way he clung to

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Athena, and Cecily could easily make Holt's stubborn and inexplicable dedication to the

girl sound much more ominous than it actually was.

And as for Miss Caitlin Hughes

"You should go," Morgan Holt said.

Cecily started. "I beg your pardon?”

"Athena is with us. We don't need you.”

Her amazement at his brazen command held her silent for several beats. Athena,

talking to Caitlin, hadn't heard. Cecily curled her hand around Athena's shoulder. "I will

do no such thing.”

Incredibly, he bared his teeth at her. She managed to keep herself from stumbling away

to some illusory safety. "How dare you," she whispered.

He took a step toward her. She gasped and placed an equal distance between them.

All at once it seemed that every eye was upon her. The dwarf with his curling golden

locks looked up as if he were her equal in height and every other way. One of the

clowns leered, and the strong man in his animal skin tunic worked his fists. Hostile, alien

gazes met hers everywhere she turned.

The walls of the tent threatened to collapse upon her if she remained another second

inside it. She hurried toward the exit. Once outside she was able to breathe again. With

safety came sense, and righteous anger.

Who did they think they were to send her scurrying away like a frightened rabbit? What

must Athena be thinking at this moment

if she had even noticed?

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Ignored. First Niall, and now Athena. It was insupportable. And yet, when she set her

feet to return to the tent, she found them rooted to the ground.

Morgan Holt was a madman. There was no telling what he might do if provoked, and he

had plainly taken as much dislike to her as she had him. It might be best to wait until

Niall returned.

She looked about for a place to sit and, finding none, folded her arms and prepared to

endure. After far too long, she glimpsed the welcome sight of Niall's carriage turning into

the lot. The coachman drove it up the midway and stopped close to the big tent.

Niall jumped out of the carriage, followed more sedately by a bearded and white-haired

gentleman. Cecily went to join the men at the fastest pace her dignity allowed.

"Oh, Mr. Munroe," she said. "I am so glad you have returned quickly.”

"Why are you not inside with Athena?" Niall demanded, scarcely sparing her a glance.

He urged the doctor along with a wave and headed at a blistering clip toward the tent.

Cecily could not keep up. She slowed and allowed the men to precede her. She would

not be made a fool of or treated in such a way, not by the Munroes or anyone else. She

ought to leave, now, without a backward glance.

And jeopardize your future here? All she need do was swallow her pride and the

situation could yet be salvaged and turned to her advantage. Clenching her fists, she

prepared to try once more.

"How sad a thing it is to lose a lover.”

She spun about to face the one trouper she had not noticed among those hovering over

Caitlin—the snake charmer, Tamar. Cecily recoiled. The woman had the usual snakes

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draped about her shoulders like some grotesque necklace, but it was not that which

alarmed Cecily. There was something inhuman about her dark, slanted eyes.

"I

I do not know what you mean," Cecily stammered.

"Oh, but you do." The snake woman smiled. Her teeth were white and slightly pointed at

the tips. "This man you want, this Niall Munroe, is slipping through your fingers.”

"What do you know of me or Mr. Munroe?”

"I have eyes." Tamar tickled the underside of one serpent's satin jaw with a red-nailed

fingertip. "I know that you want this Niall Munroe. I know that our Caitlin also wants him,

though she does not admit it. And I have seen how he looks at her and does not look at

you.”

Hearing her own thoughts laid out so plainly was a considerable shock. This woman, a

stranger, had seen the sordid attraction between Niall and the little slut. She might not

be the only one.

"Why do you tell me this?" Cecily demanded. "What possible reason—”

"You wish to be rid of your rival, do you not?" Tamar blinked, and Cecily realized with a

chill that she had not seen the woman do so since the conversation began.

"Maybe there is something that I also wish. Maybe we can help each other.”

"You must be joking." Cecily glanced with disgust at the snake charmer's patently false

hair, the garish cosmetics, the gown that concealed so little of her generous figure.

"How could you possibly help me?”

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"You dislike me, no? Maybe you think I am too low for you, like my snakes?" She

smiled. "Never mind. You will agree, because you want the circus gone, as I do. And if

Athena Munroe gets her wish, the circus will not go away for a very long time.”

"What do you mean? You are to leave Denver now that the performance is over.”

"I think not. Because our Caitlin was hurt, your friend Athena has said that she will ask

her brother if the troupe may stay at his ranch in the mountains until she is well again.

And that may take all winter, no?”

"Preposterous. Niall would never agree.”

"Would he not?" Tamar shrugged. "He looks at our Caitlin as if he has never seen a

woman before. Do you think that he will let her go so easily?”

The swift and obvious answer died on Cecily's tongue. She became as cold as Tamar

and her snakes, examining all the possibilities with calm rationality.

As repulsive as she found the circus folk, and this creature in particular, Cecily had no

allies against Caitlin and her tawdry charms. Tamar had presented herself as a fellow

conspirator, with keen powers of observation and a cool sense of purpose. She would

make a daunting enemy. She doubtless had resources Cecily could not hope to

duplicate

if she could be trusted. And if she did not demand too high a price for her

services.

"You said you can help me," Cecily said. "What do you propose?”

Tamar licked her lips with a flicker of her tongue. "I know the circus as you cannot. I can

hear what is said, and tell you as I have told you of Athena's plans. There are many

ways that I can

make difficulties for your lover and our Caitlin when they wish to be

together.”

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Cecily had little doubt of that. "And what do you want in return? You said you wish the

circus gone. Why?”

"I, too, have a lover," Tamar said, her eyes growing as cloudy as those of a snake about

to shed its skin. "There is one not of our troupe who casts a spell on him, as the girl

bewitches your man.”

Thinking quickly, Cecily cast through her memory for characters who might fit such a

vague description. Who on earth would take such a creature as Tamar for a lover?

Whom would she pursue?

Who but one equally as bizarre? Not the dwarf, surely. The albino clown, perhaps—

No. The answer was evident. Which trouper had taken such a strangely personal

interest in Athena that first day on the lot? Who had been standing so close, so

protectively, to Athena's chair as if he had some special right?

"Morgan Holt," she said. "It is him, isn't it?”

Tamar hissed. "He is my wolf. Mine alone. She will not have him.”

Her wolf? Of course. The Wolf-Man. Morgan Holt is the Wolf-Man!

And he had set his sights on Athena.

Cecily smiled. "Let me be sure that we understand one another. You will act on my

behalf to keep the girl away from Mr. Munroe, and I will do what I can—within reason, of

course—to do the same with Athena and Morgan Holt.”

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"Then we understand each other." Tamar glanced toward the tent. "Use what I have told

you. You will tell me where to send messages when I learn that which is of interest to us

both. And you will help me when the time is right.”

"Unless, of course, I persuade Mr. Munroe to do as he originally intended, and send

your circus away. Then we shall both have what we want with no further trouble.”

Tamar inclined her head. "I shall be most curious to see if you succeed.”

Cecily found a bit of paper and a pencil in her chatelaine bag and wrote out her

address. A definite risk to trust this creature, but she was confident that she could