To Catch a Wolf (38 page)

Once they were settled in the sitting room, she fawned over Niall—elegantly, of

course—and acknowledged Athena with a brief nod. She did not mention the ball,

though it was only four days away.

Athena hadn't the heart to ask. For the first time she saw something in the older woman

she neither liked nor understood. She had assumed that Cecily was her friend and

confidante, but Niall had said she'd warned him about Athena "taking on too much"

some time before. How long had Cecily been talking behind her back? Did she see

Athena as a hindrance to her social ambitions—the crippled sister who would only be in

the way?

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Athena had misjudged so many people. Could she have been so wrong about Cecily's

friendship? And if she had been wrong about that, how much else had she also

misjudged? How would her society friends respond to her ability to walk again? Would

they be happy for her? Would they welcome her as an active, mobile member of their

elite circle?

She had always been safe in the assumption that she was one of them, regardless of

her inability to shop or take luncheon at the Windsor or waltz at a dance. Not merely

one of them, but a leader, an impeccable hostess able to persuade the wealthiest

Denverites to attend her gatherings, join her charitable societies, and donate liberally to

her causes.

She should have been eager to resume her work and her place as founder of one the

grandest balls of the year. Yet all the things that had once seemed so important had

become more duty than pleasure, responsibilities that must be seen to no matter how

much she wished she could crawl into a cave and hibernate until the heartache had

passed.

Morgan had become a part of her. It was more than love, more than any longing she

had ever suffered. She could almost feel him across the miles, sense his anger and

confusion and pain, as if their very emotions had merged into one. One heart, one

being, one soul. A soul denied any hope of solace.

Niall's raised voice drew her out of the pit into which she had fallen. He was still

speaking to Cecily, and his expression told Athena that he had heard some news he did

not like. He looked up and stared at her as if she were Morgan himself.

"Niall? What is it?”

He jerked his head aside and gave Cecily a terse command. She nodded, glanced at

Athena with a too-blank expression, and left the room.

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"I am returning to Long Park at once," he said, as soon as they were alone. "You will

remain here in Cecily's care. I have asked her to make certain that you are confined to

the house this time, and will instruct the servants accordingly. Remember that if you

break your promise—”

"Returning?" She gripped the armrests of her chair so hard that her fingers ached.

"Why? I have done what you asked—”

"You do not need to know my reasons. Do as Miss Hockensmith tells you—she has the

wisdom and experience you so obviously lack—and I may explain when I come back to

Denver.”

"No." She tensed the muscles in her legs, preparing to face him on her feet. "That is not

good enough, Niall. Your reasons may have bearing on our agreement, and that gives

me the right to know.”

Never before had he looked so ready to strike her. She refused to retreat. After a

moment he drew back, fists balled at his sides.

"I will leave it to Miss Hockensmith to explain," he said. "Perhaps you will hear from her

what you would not accept from me.”

Before she could protest, he turned on his heel and strode into the hall. Brinkley

appeared with a tray of hot tea, set it down on the table beside her, and gave her a

glance of such sympathy that she wondered what he knew. But he, too, fled just as she

gathered the words to ask. She was forced to wait, needles of pain stabbing into her

legs, while Niall made preparations to leave and Cecily spoke to him in the hall.

An hour before midnight, just as the long-case clock struck like a portent of doom, Niall

put on his coat and left the house. Only something terrible would drive him out at such

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an hour, when the darkness would impede travel into the mountains. What could be so

urgent?

Cecily knew. She had been harbinger of the mysterious bad tidings. She had broken

Athena's confidence. She was to be Athena's official jailer, at Niall's behest. Athena

meant to get an explanation, even if it meant assuming that Cecily was her adversary

or her enemy.

Gritting her teeth against the discomfort, Athena pushed herself up and focused her

attention on getting to the sitting room door, one shuffling step at a time. Once there,

she caught her breath, renewed her courage, and compelled her trembling legs to bear

her just a little farther.

Brinkley caught sight of her at the end of the hall, stopped in amazement, and rushed

up to support her. She leaned on his arm with some gratitude. If it was not her

imagination, her legs were getting stronger

but they were not yet strong enough for

the tasks she might have to ask of them.

"Thank you, Brinkley," she said. "Please take me to Miss Hockensmith.”

His usually stolid face showed a flicker of emotion, and she knew she had not

misinterpreted it. "You don't like Miss Hockensmith, Brinkley?”

"I beg your pardon, Miss Munroe. It isn't my place to like or dislike the lady.”

"But you do have an opinion.”

He assumed a carefully neutral expression and guided her down the hall toward the

library. "Miss Hockensmith seems very free about the house, Miss Munroe. I think—"

He hesitated.

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"Go on." She pulled him to a stop. "I need to know what I am up against, and you may

be able to tell me.”

His mouth tightened. "I believe Miss Hockensmith sees herself as mistress here, very

soon.”

Well, that was certainly no surprise. Athena started to move again, anger lending new

energy to her muscles. "Thank you for being frank, Brinkley. Will you speak honestly to

me if I ask again?”

He looked down at her gravely. "Miss Munroe—we—the staff hope the best for you.

Now that you can walk

perhaps things will be different.”

Different. How had the servants perceived life in the Munroe house? Had they

considered it a burden to wait upon her? She had tried to be fair in her running of the

household, but Niall was, at best, brusque with the staff and treated them rather like

machines. Brinkley's admission made clear that he did not want Cecily Hockensmith as

mistress of the house.

But she would be that, if she married Niall. And suddenly Athena recognized what she

had so avoided acknowledging until now—that the life she had returned to would be

forever changed if Cecily became Mrs. Munroe. Cecily would arrange the house as she

saw fit, give the orders, and take her place above Athena in the scheme of home life.

A great chasm seemed to open under Athena's unsteady feet. Of course she should

have known that everything must alter when Niall married. She had wanted him to

concentrate on someone other than herself. She wanted him to be happy. But his

happiness meant that she must either live as a dependent in the house she had

managed, or strike out on her own.

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That had ceased to be impossible. She could walk. She was getting stronger. But this

was the home she had loved, had made the perfect refuge from the world outside.

Every detail had been refined to her specifications. It was her sanctuary, and she had

seldom felt any desire to leave it.

Yet, when she had gone to Long Park, it had been a break with the past she had not

recognized for the profound event it had become. She had ventured far, not only in

miles but in spirit. She had not returned unchanged.

The Athena-that-was and the Athena of today were sisters, but they were no longer

identical. One had been content in a life of service, of holding a secure place in society,

even if that place was one of confinement and few surprises. She had believed that

correcting social injustice was the only worthy undertaking for one such as herself. One

who had nothing else to contribute.

The new Athena had lost that contentment and sense of purpose. She didn't know who

she was, or what she was capable of. But the wolf could not go back in her cage.

Heaven help her. It was the wolf who hated Niall and suspected Cecily of the basest

duplicity. It was the wolf who made her question all the truths she had lived by, who

spurned the sacrifices she had made, who tore her apart inside with claws of steel.

And it was the wolf who howled that she would always be alone.

Alone. It is Morgan or nothing. There will be no other.

"Miss Munroe? Are you ill?”

She opened her eyes at Brinkley's voice and saw that they had somehow reached the

end of the hall. "I am sorry, Brinkley. Is Miss Hockensmith in the library?”

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"Yes. Do you wish me to remain nearby, Miss Munroe?”

"I'll be all right. Thank you, Brinkley.”

He escorted her to the library door, and she released his arm to demonstrate that she

could negotiate the short remaining distance on her own. He lingered until she had

stepped into the room, and quietly shut the door behind her.

Cecily was seated in Niall's substantial leather chair behind his mahogany desk, leaning

back in a most unladylike pose as if she had a perfect right to claim anything that was

his.

"It is time you told me why Niall left so quickly after you spoke to him," Athena said.

Cecily bolted upright in the chair and looked genuinely astonished, as if she had

expected Athena to remain meekly in the sitting room until the servants escorted her

upstairs to bed. Had Niall not told her she could walk?

"Athena!" she said, putting a hand to her throat. "You startled me. I had thought you

would be much too tired to stay up late after your long journey." Her gaze swept the

length of Athena's body. "My dear, how very wonderful! How long have you been able to

walk?”

Athena had no intention of allowing Cecily to escape the question. All of her senses

boiled with anger and distrust. She chose, against the habit of many years, to listen to

what they told her.

"Niall is returning to the ranch," she said. "He made clear that you were to be my

caretaker in his absence, and prevent me from leaving the house without your

chaperonage. I presume that is why you are still here.”

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Cecily's expression changed from one of feigned pleasure to a much more honest

wariness. "Your brother is concerned for your welfare, as I am. It is unfortunate—”

"Yes. Something is most unfortunate if he felt the need to leave almost as soon as we

arrived

but it was also unfortunate that you told him where I had gone when I trusted

you to keep my secret.”

"Why, my dear

" Cecily rose and walked around the desk, brushing her fingertips

along the burnished wood. "I had no choice but to tell him where you had gone when he

asked me. I did not wish to break your confidence, but your brother is not easily denied.”

"No, he is not. But because you prefer his regard to my friendship, I find myself a

prisoner in my own home. And you have not suffered by it, have you?”

Cecily's eyes sparked with affront. "I beg your pardon. I have always wanted only what

is best for you. I have the experience that you do not, and that is why Mr. Munroe trusts

me to look after you while he is gone.”

"And why has he gone, Cecily? You haven't answered my question." She took a step

forward, careful not to grab for the doorframe. "Kindly tell me the truth.”

The pleasant curve of Cecily's lips grew thin and hard. "Is it the truth you really want, my

dear? The truth of what I think of you, and of your lover?”

Athena braced herself against the blows to come. "Yes.”

"Very well." Cecily smiled, a look as cold and calculating as it was triumphant. "But first

you must sit down, dear child, or you may fall down. I do not believe you are quite