Wolf Who Loved Me (25 page)

“She always does.” Archer rubbed his chin. “I still wouldn’t have told her.”

“Cait can be trusted.”

“You’d better hope so,” Archer replied. “Because I don’t intend to say one word to Dash about any of this, not until things are set in motion in any event.”

That meant he was in. Wes smiled at his brother. With Archer’s new fortune, he didn’t have to participate in this venture, but it warmed Wes’ heart that his brother was willing to do so anyway.

“In fact,” Archer continued, “I have the perfect plot of land in mind.”

“You do?” Gray asked.

Archer nodded. “I own a nice spot in Sunbury along the Thames. We could ferry fellows in from London. Charge for rooms. Provide entertainment.”

A plot of land Wes was certain Archer had obtained from the late Lord Postwick. “I’m guessing Lady Sophia won’t be happy about the location, among other things.”

A flash of something crossed Archer’s face but it was gone just as fast. “I can’t imagine that she would.”

“What would she care about that?” Gray asked, completely bewildered.

Archer growled low in his throat. “We haven’t been gone half an hour yet. What could she possibly want now?”

And then Wes noticed the soft essence of violets. How interesting that Archer was so attuned to Lady Sophia’s scent. A soft knock at the door heralded her formal arrival.

“Go away,” Archer groused.

But Wes strode to the door and opened it, revealing their tutor in the flesh. “My lady,” he said.

Lady Sophia swept into the room, holding a ledger in her hands. “We have work to do.”

“You gave us half an hour reprieve from your presence, or have you forgotten?” Archer grumbled.

“No.” She shook her head. “I said you needed to be back in the music room in half an hour. It’s not the same thing.” She tapped her ledger with her fingers.

“What the devil is that?” Gray asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

Wes was almost afraid to ask himself.

“A listing I put together of all the exhibits at the British Museum.” She perched on the edge of the settee. “I’d like for you all to be familiar with each and every piece.”

“Why on earth would we want to do that?” Archer asked, cursing beneath his breath.

“Because it will show Lord Eynsford and others how cultured you’ve become, my lord.”

Archer snorted. “Cultured? You are destined for failure, Lady Sophia. We are Hadleys. Culture is not a word in our vocabularies.”

“Then you’d better learn it,” she said primly. “I’m to make gentlemen out of you, and
gentlemen
know a thing or two about art and culture.”

“They know more about gambling,” Gray muttered under his breath, only loud enough for his brothers to hear.

Archer laughed.

“Something amusing, Lord Radbourne?” Lady Sophia lifted one imperious brow in his direction.

“I find a great number of things amusing, my lady.”

She smiled at him, though there was an icy chill behind her eyes. “I am so relieved to hear it. When conversing with a lady, you should always strive to engage her with witty conversation.”

“I’ve never had a problem engaging a woman, sweetheart. And I’ve never heard any complaints.” Archer let his gaze roam down Lady Sophia’s body, and for the first time ever, that made Wes more than uncomfortable. He felt a sudden urge to protect the lady.

“She’s trying to help us,” Wes said placatingly.

Archer smirked. “But we’re just fine the way we are.”

No. No, they weren’t. Their unruly and unconventional upbringing had left Wes less than worthy of the woman he loved. By quite a long shot. “I want her help,” he said softly.

Lady Sophia smiled at him, and he could see the sweetness in her gaze. “You’ll make a fine husband for her.”

Wes wished he could be as certain as Lady Sophia was. If he learned everything there was about every object inside the British Museum, if he read
The Times
every morning to be knowledgeable of current events, if he was a master waltzer or fencer, would that really make the difference to Madeline? To Hythe? To himself? He would always be Weston Hadley.

Archer tsked at him. “Which will it be, Wes? Business ventures or artifacts in museums?”

“Business ventures?” Lady Sophia asked.

“I’m afraid our new business venture will take us far from Kent for a while, my lady,” Archer said with a superior gleam in his eye. “So perhaps you can instruct Lord Eynsford on the intimate goings-on at the British Museum in our absence.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of a business venture.” Lady Sophia frowned. “I’m certain I don’t have to tell you that gentlemen don’t dabble in business, my lord.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to explain to you, my lady?” Archer winked at her. “We’re
not
gentlemen. We’re Hadleys.”

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be better. Wes offered a conciliatory smile to the lady. “When we return from our trip, I’ll look forward to your instruction.” He’d look forward to doing anything that might make Madeline see him in a better light. But the Hadley brothers’ gambling business wouldn’t grow itself, and
if
Madeline was stuck with him, he needed to ensure that he could take care of her. That had to be more important than learning all the details about the Elgin Marbles, didn’t it?

If Maddie wasn’t wearing gloves, she’d be biting her fingernails, which wasn’t like her at all. But she was such a bundle of nerves that she could barely sit still.

“Appear serene,” her grandmother ordered as their coach stopped on the circular drive before Eynsford Park. “You want him crawling back to you, Madeline. You don’t want him to have the upper hand.”

Maddie would be happy to have any hand at all. As it was, she had nothing. But if only she could catch Wes’ eye, she might see something in his depths that would confirm her deepest desire. He’d professed to her father that he was in love with her. She’d heard him with her very ears. He’d told her himself that he’d wanted her for years. Could all of that have disappeared because she hadn’t wanted him to scar her? To appease the duchess, Maddie nodded her head as serenely as she was able. “Of course, Grandmamma.”

“And keep your distance from Sophia. That gel is a bad influence on you.”

Somehow Maddie managed to keep from snorting. Her life had been turned inside out and upside down. How could Sophie’s influence possibly make things any worse?

The driver opened the coach door, helped the duchess alight from the conveyance, and then offered his hand to Maddie. She linked her arm with her grandmother’s, and together they strode down the white stone path to the grand front door that opened before either of them could knock.

Eynsford’s stoic butler bowed. “Your Grace, Lady Madeline.”

“Lady Eynsford should be expecting us,” the duchess replied regally.

“Of course, madam. Her ladyship is awaiting you in the white parlor. This way.” He led them just a short distance, then cleared his throat before a doorway. “The Duchess of Hythe and Lady Madeline have arrived, my lady.”

“Wonderful,” the marchioness gushed from inside the room. “Thank you, Price.”

The butler gestured Maddie and the duchess over the threshold, and at once, Maddie’s eyes flew around the room in hopes of finding her husband there. But he was not. Sophie, however, was. Her old friend smiled and gestured to the spot beside her on a white damask settee. Ignoring her grandmother’s directive, Maddie quickly crossed the floor and took the seat beside Sophie.

The duchess harrumphed but took a spot in a high-backed chair a few feet away.

Immediately, Sophie grasped Maddie’s hand and squeezed. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried.”

Only some miracle kept tears from forming in Maddie’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. When she
did
see Wes, she would not have tear-stained cheeks. “I am fine, all things considered.”

“I am so glad ye’ve come ta call,” Lady Eynsford said warmly. “I’ve already ordered some tea and biscuits, but in the meanwhile, I’d like ta ken how ye’re gettin’ along.”

Maddie cleared her throat. “Castle Hythe is calm.” It was almost like a graveyard, but Maddie wouldn’t dare say such a thing. “If it isn’t too much to ask, Lady Eynsford, I should like very much to see my husband.”

Sophie hand tightened on Maddie’s, and the smile vanished from Lady Eynsford’s face. “I am sorry,” the marchioness replied. “Weston is no’ in residence at the moment.”

Maddie hadn’t known her heart could plummet even further, but it did. “Where is he?” she breathed, terrified of the answer. Had she made him so angry that he’d fled Kent to avoid her?

“Working on some secretive business venture.” Sophie frowned.

“Business venture?” the duchess barked.

Lady Eynsford shrugged. “Alas, I really canna say any more than Sophia has. Weston has no’ confided his plans ta me.”

Maddie closed her eyes, hoping for strength. She’d spent the entire previous evening planning what to say to her husband. She’d imagined his every response and her every counter. She hadn’t planned on him not being in residence. “Wh-when will he be back?” she asked, her voice small to her own ears.

“I’m certain he’ll be back as soon as the time is right, Lady Madeline.”

The duchess cleared her throat. Loudly. “Do you suppose, Caitrin, he could be compelled to return to attend my birthday ball a fortnight from now?”

Maddie opened her eyes and stared at her grandmother. Birthday ball? What was she talking about?

“I’m certain Eynsford could be compelled ta ask him ta return, Eugenia.”

“Splendid.” The duchess’ cane tapped the floor in mild agitation. “As I’m finally inviting him into my home, I’ll expect him to be on time.”

Lady Eynsford’s blue eyes twinkled. “I doona foresee any problems with punctuality.”

The duchess harrumphed again.

At that moment, the butler returned with a tea tray and Lady Eynsford directed him to place it on a table near the window. Then she turned her gaze on Maddie. “Will ye help me pour?”

Maddie rose from her spot and crossed the parlor to the table where the tea service awaited. As the duchess began to question Sophie on her living arrangement at The Park, Maddie poured the first cup. But then Lady Eynsford stilled Maddie’s hand with her own. “Doona fret, my dear.”

Maddie blinked back tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I ken ye are aware of what Weston is,” the marchioness whispered. Then she tugged at the collar of her gown to reveal a crescent-shaped scar, the size of a man’s mouth, where her neck met her shoulder. If Maddie hadn’t been staring at the blemish, she wouldn’t have even noticed it. “There is nothin’ ta fear. Ye may trust me on that.”

Maddie nearly dropped the silver teapot to the floor. With shaky hands, she somehow managed to return it to the tray without spilling a drop. “Lord Eynsford?” she asked quietly.

Lady Eynsford nodded. “Aye. And it is wonderful, Madeline.”

And from the dreamy expression on the marchioness’ face, Maddie believed her instantly. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she confessed.

“Ye’ve both hurt each other, though I ken neither of ye meant ta do so. Neither of ye were placed in the best situation, but that’s all in the past. It’s the future we need ta look toward.”

Maddie nodded. The future. But could she have a future with Wes? He’d fled Kent, for heaven’s sake.

“I want ye ta ken, Madeline, ye can come ta me with anythin’. I ken a thing or two about these creatures and how ta best manage them.”

Maddie swallowed nervously. “What if he won’t forgive me? What if he won’t have me?”

“Ye are in charge of yer own destiny. I’m certain ye can think of somethin’ ye can do ta make him see reason.”

But she’d tried all the way from Scotland. Maddie stared out the window before her, as though the answer would appear in the sky. What could she do to make Wes see reason? What could she do to make him see that she loved him? That she accepted him the way he was?

***

Wes stared blankly at the invitation in his hand. The Duchess of Hythe was requesting
his
presence at her birthday ball? That could only mean one thing. The duke had been successful in his quest to annul the marriage. Dread washed over Wes and a pit formed in his stomach. He doubted he’d ever feel right for the rest of his days. He tried to shake off the feeling. This was what he’d asked for, after all. An opportunity for Madeline to get a fresh start, to pretend that their union had not occurred.

“What are you doing?” Archer’s voice interrupted Wes’ thoughts.

“Nothing.”

His older brother scoffed as his fork scooped up a helping of baked eggs. “Nothing? You’re crumpling that invitation so much it won’t be recognizable. Who is it from, anyway?”

Wes dropped into a seat at the breakfast table across from his brothers and tried to remember how to speak.

“Wes?” Gray prodded. “I know it’s rare for us to receive invitations.” He grinned. “But we have received some a time or two.”

Wes heaved a sigh, then looked across the table at his brothers. “It’s from the Duchess of Hythe.”

Archer’s brow lifted and Gray sat a little straighter. “Well, we’ve never received one of those before,” his twin replied. “What does it say?”

“That I’m to attend her birthday ball at the castle next week.”

“If I was you, I wouldn’t step over that threshold. Robert’s likely to have a dueling pistol aimed at your heart.” Archer placed his fork back on the table.

“He has to go,” Gray said. “I imagine Hythe wants to tell you in person…”

“That he’s had my marriage annulled,” Wes added. “Yes, I know.” He tossed the invitation to the table and raked a hand through his hair. “What bad timing, since we’re so busy with architects and hiring laborers.”

Gray snorted. “Don’t be a coward now. You’re the one who asked for this.”

He
had
asked for it. But that didn’t mean the idea didn’t turn his stomach. “She’ll be better off now.”

“And what about you?” Gray asked quietly. “Will you be better off now?”

His brother knew the answer without asking, Wes well knew. Being twins, Gray could sense Wes’ heartache and suffering more than anyone in the world. “I want what’s best for her.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t really need to, do I?”

Archer chuckled to himself. “I suppose you could always talk her into eloping again. I doubt even Hythe could have two marriages annulled.”

Wes glared at his older brother. “You are a jackass.”

Archer agreed with a nod. “Family trait.”

Gray leaned forward and rested his elbows on the breakfast table. “He has a point, Wes. Not the eloping part, but she does care for you. All might not be lost.”

Wes’ chair legs scraped against the floor as he quickly stood. “We’ve been over this, Grayson. Madeline doesn’t belong in our world. She’s…”

“Too perfect?” Gray supplied with the roll of his eyes.

“Unblemished,” Wes corrected. “Everything about who we are would destroy her. I won’t be a party to that.” Doing so would hurt just as badly as he was hurting now.

Archer sighed. Loudly. Then he dropped his napkin to the table. “If we are through with this maudlin conversation, we have work to do today, gentlemen.”

“Arch!” Gray complained.

But their older brother rose from his seat. “Leave it alone, Grayson. He’s made his decision. He has to live with it.”