Wolf Who Loved Me (15 page)

How did this outlandish woman know Weston?

“I think,” the blonde replied, tipping back her chin as though she was the queen, “it has more to do with the fact that you look like an unkempt farmer.” She gestured to his attire. “Have you fallen on even worse times since we last… met? Never mind. Don’t answer that. You are damned lucky you stopped. If you hadn’t, I’d have plagued you to the end of your days. Still if you think you’ll ever crawl your sorry arse back in my bed—”

Wes stood up straight, suddenly at full attention as he began to speak in an obvious attempt to shut the woman’s mouth. He dropped an arm around Maddie’s shoulders. “Hardly. I already have a wife to plague me until the end of my days, dear,” he said quickly.

Dovenby bent in the middle he laughed so hard.

“Or I soon will,” Wes amended, shooting the earl a harsh glance.

The woman looked startled. Obviously startled. Yet she stopped talking.

“Which part are you referring to, Hadley? The ‘plague you’ part or the ‘I’ll never let you into my bed again’ part?” Dovenby asked.

“Shut up, Dove,” Wes growled.

Maddie must look like a complete ninny. She was certain of it. But her brain was racing as she tried to make sense of the scene. If there was one thing Maddie knew how to do, it was be polite. She extended a hand to the lady. “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said softly, in the voice she’d practiced for years, the one that made people think she was serene and naïve. And at this moment, she’d never felt quite so naïve.

The woman’s gaze swept over Maddie’s body. Then she sneered, “You usually don’t like them skinny, Hadley,” she said.

“She’s not skinny,” Wes started. But he dropped his chin to his chest and inhaled deeply before he continued. “Lady Madeline, this is Lucy Reed.”

Lucy Reed? Why did that name sound familiar? Maddie would have let the name roll around in her mind until she had the answer, but she had just been slighted by the girl. So she leaned close to Wes’ ear. “Did she really just call me skinny?” Maddie murmured.

But Dovenby answered before Wes could reply. “She did, indeed, dear.”

“There are worse things you could be called.” Wes winced.

True. Lucy Reed, whoever she was, had said something even more disturbing. “And did she say she has shared your bed?” She still spoke softly to Wes, but Dovenby was bending at the middle again.

“That was a long time ago,” Wes tried as he took her shoulders and turned her to face him. Or at least attempted to. “I can explain, darling.”

Oh, she had no doubt he would try. But Maddie didn’t want to hear one word of it. Not one. “Renshaw!” She called loudly as she stomped to the front of the carriage, ignoring every pebble that found her un-slippered feet. “Are you still in possession of some funds?”

“I have enough, milady,” he replied. A grin tugged at his lips, too. Blast them all. None of this was humorous in the least.

“Perfect. Take me somewhere. Anywhere,” she said. “I don’t care where.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a quick nod.

“Madeline,” Wes began, “we don’t have time for theatrics.”

But Maddie paid him no heed as she yanked open the coach door and stumbled inside. Blasted bruised feet. She must look completely ridiculous. She scrambled to a seat, trying to maintain whatever dignity she could, smoothing her tattered and worn skirts out with her hands. Before Weston or Dovenby could follow her, the coach lurched to a start, causing the door to flop open. Blast. She hadn’t closed it properly.

Maddie stuck her head out the open door and watched, astounded, as Lucy Reed stuck her foot out and tripped Weston. Then Dovenby stumbled across him in his haste to reach the coach. And while it all occurred, the daring blonde hiked up her skirts and jumped in through the open door of the moving carriage. Maddie had to scramble once again to get out of the way.

Lucy Reed fell heavily onto the seat across from Maddie. “Well then, now that it’s just us,” she panted, “it’s nice to meet you.”

Maddie could only gape at her stowaway for a moment. “I suppose I can’t toss you out.” No matter how much she would like to.

The blonde had shared Wes’
bed
. Her Wes. It made no difference that he hadn’t been her Wes whenever the interlude or interludes had taken place. He was her Wes now. Though she wasn’t certain when that had happened. Perhaps when she’d decided to leap out that inn window and run away with him. And this is how he thanked her? By cavorting with this Lucy Reed person before Maddie even knew she wanted him? She realized how ridiculous her thoughts would sound aloud and was glad she didn’t have to mutter them to anyone who would think she had gone mad.

“You could try.” Lucy Reed shrugged. “But where would be the fun in that?”

Fun? Maddie somehow managed not to choke on a sob. But she refused to let the blonde see her at her worst. So she straightened her back and glared at the other woman.

“I know who you are, you know?” Lucy shook her skirts out, making dust float in the streaks of sunlight that filtered through the window. “You went to
The
Taming
of
the
Shrew
this last Season.”

Maddie coughed and swiped at a dust cloud that threatened to envelop her. Everyone had gone to
The
Taming
of
the
Shrew
last Season. What did the woman mean by that? “Just how do you think you know me?”

“You’re Lord Robbie’s little sister. I saw you in Hythe’s box with him.”

Lord
Robbie?
Maddie frowned at the blonde. No one had ever called Robert such a ridiculous thing in his life. “And just how do you know my brother?”

Lucy folded her hands in her lap. “He’s a very generous patron of the arts.”

Patron
of
the
arts?
Speaking with Lucy Reed made Maddie’s head pound, and she had more pressing things to think about. After all, she had just ridden off without her wolfish fiancé, hadn’t she? She probably should have thought that through better, but she’d been so flustered standing in the road in her bare feet, listening to how
her
Wes had shared his bed with the blonde who now sat across from Maddie, that she hadn’t been thinking clearly. She still wasn’t.

And then it hit her.

Maddie leaned forward in her seat and peered at the woman opposite her. Not Lucy Reed. “You’re
Lucinda
Reed.” Suddenly the outlandish walking dress made sense.

“So nice to be recognized even in this backwater county. How I let Dove talk me into this excursion is a mystery. I must have been foxed when I agreed to it.”

“You played Bianca on the stage.”

The blonde actress inclined her head. “I would have done a fabulous job as Kate, but Henry said my
ingénue
presence was better suited for Bianca.” She rolled her eyes dismissively.

Maddie held in a snort. If Henry, whoever he was, had seen Lucinda Reed pummel an earl with her fists, trip two grown werewolves, and leap into a moving conveyance, she would have been cast as
the
shrew
in an instant. “I’m sure you would have been a marvelous Kate.”

Lucinda Reed smiled for the first time since Maddie had laid eyes on her. “That’s what Robbie said, too. He’s so adorable, your brother. Sent me roses every night of the show.”

Patron of the arts. Madeline didn’t want to know more. So both her brother
and
her fiancé had a taste for actresses. She could have gone her entire life without that knowledge. Now if only she could forget it. “Oh, yes, adorable. That’s what I always say about
Robbie
.”

“But your husband is wonderful, too.”

“I’d really rather not discuss him at the moment.”

“I can see your point.” Lucinda agreed with a nod. “If I never lay eyes on Dovenby again, it will be too soon. Black-hearted scoundrel. What did Hadley do to
you
?”

Turned into a wolf before my very eyes. Rolled me in mud. Abducted me. Made me sleep in a hovel crawling with vermin. And kissed me… All things considered, it was best not to think about that kiss. That kiss was what most likely what had propelled her to leap out the inn window that morning. “It’s too complicated to explain.”

Lucinda Reed laughed. Loudly. “Complicated? Men?” Then she shook her head. “You really are the naïve sort, aren’t you? How long have you been married?”

Madeline had no idea how to answer that, so she just stared at the actress.

Not that it mattered. Miss Reed could carry on a conversation with herself. “It can’t have been very long or you’d know men are the most uncomplicated creatures on the earth.”

“I’ve always thought them to be perfidious.”

“Oh, they’re scoundrels, the lot of them.” The actress nodded in agreement. “So as long as you know not to trust them, they’re easy to understand. They want full bellies and a woman warming their bed. That is it. The whole secret to men’s happiness. Quite uncomplicated.”

Maddie’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly closed it. She couldn’t believe the words that fell from Miss Reed’s lips. What a thing to say!

“But Weston is a sweet one, for the most part. Radbourne, on the other hand, would scare the devil himself. And Lavendon—”

Maddie held up a hand to stop the woman. “Please.” It was bad enough knowing Lucinda Reed knew Robert. If Nathaniel was a patron of the arts, too, Maddie would rather not know. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“I should say so. Where are we headed? Somewhere I can catch a mail coach going south, I hope. Dovenby, damn his eyes, can forward my portmanteau on to me in London. I have no intention of spending even one more night in Cumberland.” She snarled the last word as though to show her disdain. “The rustics are quaint for about five minutes, and that is all. You can mark my words.”

***

“However did you catch such a marvelous creature, Hadley?” Dovenby asked as the Eynsford coach grew smaller in the distance.

“Perhaps you’ve noticed I don’t have her in my possession at the moment,” Wes grumbled as he started after the carriage.

“Bad bit of luck there, Lucy mentioning your bed and all.”

Which Wes didn’t need to be reminded of. All men had pasts. What a sad excuse of a man he’d be if he didn’t have one. But no man wanted his past exploits laid out before the girl of his dreams. And certainly not in front of an audience. “Can you shut your muzzle?”

“What does Eynsford think about this mad dash north? Is he aware you took his coach? Or will you face his wrath when you return to Kent?”

Wes stopped in his tracks and shoved Dovenby with all his might. The Lycan stumbled but didn’t fall. “Go back to whatever hole you escaped from, will you? You’ve got both a bay and a gig needing your attention.”

“A simple ‘No, Eynsford doesn’t know I’ve absconded with his carriage’ will do next time, Hadley.”

Wes growled. What he wouldn’t give to put his fist though Dovenby’s face, but every moment he stood with the Lycan, the farther Madeline got away. But she couldn’t outrun him. He’d meet her at the next village, where Renshaw was certain to need a fresh set of horses.

Of course, he could follow along like a good little pup and run behind the coach. But that smacked at his pride harder than any ruler his tutors had ever struck him with. She couldn’t get but just so far ahead. He started to walk. Dovenby fell in beside him.

Wes shot him a look. “Don’t you have a carriage to retrieve?”

The earl shrugged. “It’ll be there when I send someone for it.”

“What about the bay?”

“She’s lame. That must be why Lucy was walking her.”

“So, you plan to accompany me to the next village?” There was no way he could tolerate the arse that long.

Dovenby arched a brow at him. “Do you think I’d miss the look on your lady’s face when she steps from the carriage after riding for hours with Lucy Reed?” He shook his head dramatically. “Absolutely not.”

He was right. Wes should probably start running, if he wanted to be there to soothe any ruffled feathers. Madeline’s. Not Lucy Reed’s. He didn’t give a damn about Lucy’s feathers.

Wes wasn’t sure if he was angrier at Dovenby for admitting himself into Eynsford’s coach in the first place or Lucy Reed for opening her big mouth. Either way, he’d have some serious explaining to do.

Wes could just imagine the things that Lucy was telling Madeline. He bit back a curse. Surely she wouldn’t speak of specific bedroom behavior, would she? She might. He muttered an expletive.

“I’d be worried if I were you,” Dovenby sang.

“What were you doing with Lucy, anyway?” The last time he’d seen Dovenby, he’d been engaged to a pretty little heiress with a huge dowry. “What happened to your fiancée?”

“She’s with her family.” The earl looked none too pleased. “They hate me and the feeling is mutual. I only agreed to the match to please my grandfather.” He picked up a stone and sent it skipping along the path. “What about your lady? How on earth did you land Madeline Hayburn? That is who she is, isn’t it? Hythe’s daughter?”

“It’s a long story,” Wes murmured.

Dovenby scoffed and made a motion that pointed to all the open space around them. “It’s not as though we don’t have time.”

“It’s not important.”

“Oh, come now, you can’t leave me hanging like this,” Dovenby teased. “Or I’ll simply make up my own story and be forced to spread it around.”

The jackass would do it, too, Wes had no doubt. Still, he doubted the earl could come up with something worse than had actually occurred, at least for a Lycan. “She stumbled upon me on the night of the full moon,” Wes admitted.

“All fur and snout?” Dovenby whistled dramatically, the sound long and loud. “Rotten luck, there,” he said. But then he got a contemplative look on his face. “So you spent the night of the moonful with her? And now you have to marry her.”

“Something like that,” Wes prevaricated.

“But you didn’t claim her,” the earl pressed.

Wes stopped walking and glared at him. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Pardon me. I’m simply trying to get hold of the events in my mind.”

That would be the only time Dovenby had ever arranged his mind. He wasn’t exactly known for his acumen.

“Well, you didn’t sleep with her. So, I’d imagine your blasted honor is what’s pressing you to marry the chit,” the earl groused. “What is she thinking, settling for you? She could still do better.”

She could, but Dovenby didn’t have to be so callous about it. “Go to the devil, Dove,” Wes said as he started to walk again. “And she’s not a chit.”

“Been to the devil already. Her name is Lucy Reed.” Dovenby shivered. He poked at his cheek. “How does my eye look? Did she blacken it? She got in one solid punch in the carriage.”

“Healed already. You look positively ravishing,” Wes said drolly.

“Don’t get any ideas. Next thing I know, you’ll feel led to marry me.”

Wes chuckled. Dovenby might be an arse, but he did make him laugh on occasion. “What did you buy for Lucy to get her to come with you?”

“Necklace,” Dovenby said crisply. “A big one.”

“I’m surprised she settled for that.”

“She didn’t. She wants a house.”

“You mean to make her your mistress?” Wes gasped.

“
She
means for me to make her my mistress. I mean to ditch the spoiled bit of baggage as soon as I return her to her home.” He snorted. “Besides, I’m about to be married, for God’s sake.” His face looked a bit green at the thought.

Wes doubted a little thing like marriage would change Dovenby’s outlook on taking a mistress. But perhaps Lucy had doused his ardor with her temper tantrum in the carriage. “She’s a nice chit. A bit dramatic.” Lucy had once tossed Wes’ clothes out the window when he refused her a bauble. He’d had to ring for a servant bare-arsed and ask for his clothes to be retrieved. “What do you think she’s saying to Madeline?”

“I’m sure she’s telling her every dirty little secret you have, or at least all the ones she knows about.”

Wes’ head swiveled so that he faced Dovenby. “She wouldn’t be that ruthless.”

“You think not?” Dovenby laughed. “You underestimate her.”

Damn it to hell. Lucy Reed would ruin any chance Wes had of winning Madeline’s heart. Good God, if she told him even a quarter of the things he’d done, or the women he’d entertained, Madeline would never speak to him again. “I better get to the next village.”

Dovenby nodded and fell into step beside him as he began to run. As Lycans, they could both run for hours and might even meet the coach about the same time it arrived at the next coaching inn. Or he hoped so, at least.