Wolf Who Loved Me (9 page)

Wes scoffed. “You weren’t born to be compliant.” He
tsked
beneath his breath. “A shame, really, that you have been trained to be so obedient.”

“Since when is good breeding a shame?”

He chuckled again. “It’s only a shame if you don’t get to do any good breeding.”

She gasped. “That’s what you want to do with me? Breed?”

The very thought made his heart beat faster. “More than anything,” he said honestly. “And I really want to kiss you again.”

She didn’t look up at him as she murmured to herself. “So, what’s stopping you?”

“I’ll kiss you again when you ask me for it. And not before.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Begging is not necessary, Lady Madeline. You need only ask me nicely.”

She pressed her lips together and didn’t utter a sound.

Wes had more pressing matters to think about. He glanced down at the blanket covering his lap. What irony: for the first time in a long while he had full pockets. Unfortunately, those pockets were folded neatly with his clothes in the stables at Castle Hythe. He wondered how long it would be before the Hayburn men decided Lady Madeline had run off with him. Hopefully Renshaw could drive like the wind.

A bright light invaded Maddie’s darkness, and she blinked her eyes open. She closed them quickly again and covered her face with her arm. “The drapes,” she muttered. Why were the dratted things open? And why did her head throb?

“You snore,” a very male voice remarked, from just a few inches away.

She knew that voice. Didn’t she? “I do not,” she insisted.

“You do.” Maddie’s pillow moved beneath her head when the man laughed.

Heavens! That wasn’t a pillow. And she wasn’t even in her bed. Or her room, for that matter. Maddie bolted upright, cracking her head against the fellow’s chin in the process. Her eyes flew open once more to find her maddening captor, Weston Hadley, seated beside her. The previous evening’s memories washed over her. Blast, it wasn’t a bad dream.

“There’s no reason to injure me.” He rubbed his chin where she’d bumped into him. “I find your snoring delightful.”

What a wonderful sentiment to wake up to. “I do
not
snore.”

One dark golden brow rose in mild amusement. “Indeed? And do you often listen to yourself sleep?”

Maddie glared at him.

“You may take my word for it that you do. Snore, that is.”

Infuriating man or wolf or whatever he was. She couldn’t be doomed to spend her days with this cretin, could she? Finally, their surroundings began to sink in to Maddie’s awakening mind. Where had he gotten clothes? “You’re dressed.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Very astute for so early in the morning.”

That was it? He didn’t plan to elaborate? “When did you… Where did you… How?”

Mr. Hadley gestured to the top of the carriage. “Luckily Renshaw is as good at playing cards as he is at driving.”

Was that supposed to make some sort of sense to her? “Cards?”

Mr. Hadley shrugged. “Well not on this journey, but his pockets were fairly plump when we left Kent. He bought these off an innkeeper at one of the stops to change horses. I had to give him my vowels in exchange for them.”

Now that Maddie took a good look at him, the clothes were rather shabby. Just the sort of homespun one might expect to be an innkeeper’s discards. Still the tattered shirt and slightly too-short trousers were better than no clothes at all. “I slept through all of that?”

He inclined his head once more. “And you slept through breakfast, my lady. But I did save a few apples, currants, and a hunk of cheese for you. Cost me more vowels, I’m afraid, but we’ll get all of that sorted out once we return to Eynsford Park.”

Whoever heard of borrowing funds from one’s coachman? Practically disgraceful. If she wasn’t in such an awful predicament, she would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Where are we?”

“We’re just past Cambridge.”

That far? “And you’re still alive, I see. So no one has caught up to us.”

“With everyone keeping Town hours at the castle? They probably don’t even know you’re missing yet.”

She hated to think he might be right, but his assessment did seem sound. It might be hours from now before her father or brothers finally roused themselves awake. She was a third of the way to the Scottish border, and no one even knew she was missing.

“They’ll know soon, however.” Mr. Hadley interrupted her thoughts. “I posted a letter to the duke a couple stops back. I didn’t want him to worry about you and wanted him to know you’re safe.”

She must have misheard him. Maddie’s blood turned to ice in her veins. “You sent a letter to my
father
?”

“I didn’t want him to worry,” he repeated. “It seemed a bad way to start off with him, making him worry unnecessarily.”

“What did you tell him?” she bit out. Heavens, her father!

Mr. Hadley sighed, and for the first time that morning, he looked distressed. “An enormous lie, of course.”

“Well, I would love to know those details.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, a slight blush stained his neck. “I, um—” He glanced out the window to avoid her gaze. “Well, I told him—”

The suspense was maddening. “Pray tell me, for pity’s sake.”

He finally looked back at her, frowning a bit. “I wrote him that we were madly in love.”

Her father was going to kill her.

“However,” Mr. Hadley continued. “I wrote that I knew he would never approve of our match. And since I couldn’t stand by and let you marry another, I took matters into my own hands. Then I promised him that we would return from Gretna posthaste and I would accept any punishment he wanted to bestow upon me at that time.”

Maddie’s mouth fell open. What a thing for him to say! A small part of her wished his words were true, which was silly. She wasn’t eloping with Mr. Hadley because they were madly in love. She was eloping with Mr. Hadley because she’d stumbled upon his secret and he didn’t trust her to keep it to herself. “No mention of abductions or of your wolfish traits then?”

His frown deepened. “It would be best for you not to mention my peculiarities, Madeline. As soon as you’re my wife, your future will be linked to mine. For better or worse.”

’Til death would they part. There would be no divorce. If the King couldn’t procure one for himself, Maddie didn’t have a prayer in that regard. And there would be no annulment. Not after traveling all the way to Scotland and back with the Lycan. Her reputation would be forever tainted. Her father would never seek an annulment. There would be no point. No decent man would have her after this little excursion north with Weston Hadley. No, as soon as she said, “I do,” her fate would be sealed. Though in actuality, it had been sealed the moment she saw her husband-to-be transform into a wild animal before her eyes.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” she muttered.

“That would be best for all involved.” He retrieved a knapsack from the carriage floor and opened the top. “Apple?”

Maddie’s stomach groaned in response. When had she last eaten? Sometime yesterday. She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Hadley.”

“Weston,” he replied, polishing a red apple against his sleeve.

“I beg your pardon?”

He handed the fruit to her and grinned. “My name. Weston. If we’re to be married, I’d rather you not call me Mr. Hadley anymore, Madeline.”

She turned the apple over and over in her hand, a little nervously. Weston. She rolled the name around in her mind. “You said it would be best for
all
involved. Did you simply mean you and me?” He had mentioned protecting other people last night, hadn’t he?

Weston released a long sigh.

“There are others like you, aren’t there?” she pressed.

He pierced her with his dark gaze. “I’ll be happy to answer any question you have on the trip back from Gretna.”

Meaning he didn’t intend to confide in her until she was safely his wife with her future linked to his. Until she had as much to lose as he did, if she told. “Weston.” She said his name slowly and batted her eyes the way she’d seen Lady Eynsford do with her husband when she wanted something.

Weston’s breathing hitched a bit and Maddie bit back a smile. How nice to know she affected him in some way. She thought back to the kiss he’d bestowed upon her the night before. She wasn’t the only one who’d wanted more, was she? He’d said as much, but she hadn’t quite believed him until this moment.

She nearly shook her head, remembering why she’d gone in search of him by the stables to begin with. She’d thought to blackmail him into telling her about Lord Gelligaer, which meant very little at this point. But, she wondered, would blackmail have been necessary to begin with? Could she have flirted the answer out of him?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Maddie bit into her apple, savoring the tangy juice as it hit her tongue.

“You looked as though you had some Machiavellian scheme hatching in your mind.”

Maddie laughed. “Heavens! I had no idea you were such a suspicious man.”

“You’re not planning on bolting when we stop to change horses, are you?”

What would be the point in that? She’d already spent the night with him. He’d already sent that damning letter to her father. No, her future with Weston Hadley couldn’t be altered, but she would dearly love to know exactly how she affected him. Maddie leaned forward on the bench and placed her hand on his knee. “I’ve accepted my fate.”

His eyes narrowed, but she heard the noise his throat made when he swallowed hard. “I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” She
knew
she affected him. Why wouldn’t he believe her? Lord Eynsford never seemed to question his wife’s motives.

“Because last night you broke my nose trying to escape me. You threatened to have Renshaw hanged. You swore Lavendon and Robert would see me dead.”

Well, there was that. But… “You
had
just chased me across my father’s property, snarling and growling at me like a rabid animal,” she defended herself. “Anyone would have tried to escape you under those circumstances.”

“But
now
you’ve accepted your fate?” he asked dubiously.

“I am a realist, Weston.”

“Indeed?”

Maddie nodded. “Besides, can you blame me for wanting to know more about the man I am to marry? I know very little about you, after all.”

“You know more than most,” he grumbled. “More than you should.”

“Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

“I suppose you’re saying that it’s my fault?”

“Well, I’m not the one who turned into a beast and chased a lady into the forest in the middle of the night, now am I?”

“No. You were the one skulking about the stables in the dead of night.” He folded his arms across his chest. “What were you doing in the stables anyway?”

Maddie shrugged. “I suppose I’ll tell you after we’re married.” Then she took another bite of apple, relishing the fact that Weston didn’t seem able to keep from watching her lips. He wouldn’t kiss her until she asked him to?
That
she doubted. He wanted to kiss her right now. She could see it in his eyes. His eyes fastened on the drop of apple juice that slid across her chin. She swiped at it with the back of her hand. A lady didn’t do that, did she?

But then Maddie looked down at her clothes and realized that she didn’t resemble a lady at all. Her dress was covered with mud. It had dried while she slept, and was now crispy and scratchy. What must she look like? “I suppose I look a fright,” she began. Then she reached one hand up to smooth her hair and encountered a feeling she’d never felt before. Gone were her well-placed curls. Gone was the jeweled comb that had held her hair back from her face. Gone was any semblance of beauty whatsoever. What she was left with must look absolutely hideous.

Maddie let the apple drop into her lap and reached both hands up to pat her hair. “Oh, dear,” she breathed. She always took such great care with her appearance. Yet here she sat, her gown a mess and her hair sticking out every which way. She felt a lump in her hair and dug her fingertips into the mess, recovering the end of what she assumed must be a leaf. But she tugged and it didn’t come free.

“Allow me,” Weston said as he leaned forward, his gaze on that object that protruded from her hair. He tugged and tugged and finally gave a jerk, and pulled a twig from the top of her head. “Got it,” he said as he held it out to her. Her hand trembled a little as she reached for it. Tears burned at the backs of her eyelids when she saw a few delicate strands wrapped and knotted around the tree branch that had taken root in her hair. What an awful day.

“Oh, dear. You’re not going to cry, are you?” he asked, just before she dropped her head into her hands and proceeded to do just that.

***

Wes had never felt more out of place. Madeline, in all her faded glory, sat across from him and sobbed into her hands. Her shoulders shook with the sheer force of it. He reached out one hand and gently squeezed her shoulder, like he would with one of his brothers if they were worried, but it only made her cry harder. Of course, his brothers would never sob if he’d dragged them from the forest, muddy and bedraggled, and forced them to race for Gretna. They’d simply tell him to go to the devil, kick his arse and be done with it. But she couldn’t do that, could she? He wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t allow it, not if he wanted his family’s secret to remain safe and secure.

Well, she could kick his arse. In fact, he’d prefer it over the sheer torture of seeing her shoulders shake with unhappiness. “Madeline,” he said softly. But he quickly realized there was no possible way that she could hear him over the sound of her own sobbing. “Madeline,” he said a little more loudly.

“What is it?” she wailed at him.

“Come now, it’s not as bad as all that, is it?”

Her head jerked up and her sobbing stopped. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her cheeks were soaked. Her eyes were even puffy. Dear God, what had he done?

“Not as bad as all that?” she cried. She held out her hands and said, “Look at me! I’m a mess! I’m…” She stopped abruptly as though she was looking for the appropriate word.

“Dirty?” he supplied.

She flopped back against the squabs. “Dirty,” she sighed. “That’s what this has come to. I’m dirty.”

“Just a little,” he tried. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Do you have any idea how much I detest being dirty?”

“Quite a bit, if the crying is any indication,” he supplied.

“I was raised to be clean, Mr. Hadley,” she informed him. He cringed when he realized he’d been reduced to being Mr. Hadley again.

“Weston,” he reminded her.

She narrowed her red-rimmed eyes at him. “Do you have any idea how much trouble I got in when I was younger if I even dreamed of getting dirty? It’s simply not done.”

“You did quite well, in this instance,” he couldn’t keep from saying.

“
I
did?” she shrieked.

“Well, we did,” he corrected.

“We did,” she sighed. “
We
got me dirty. Filthy. Completely unattractive.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Wes said. “I think you’re pretty adorable either way.”

“Adorable is a good description for puppies, Mr. Hadley.” She sighed heavily. “I’ve been reduced to being compared to a
dog
.” Her voice broke on the last.