Wolfishly Yours (11 page)

Archer snorted. “Don’t ignore me, Grayson.” So much for imagining his brother away. “Perhaps you don’t mind having your arse handed to you by Dash, but I don’t enjoy it. And particularly not when I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Who knew Archer was such a whimpering pup? “Dash isn’t even here,” Gray protested.

“Not yet. But if you don’t think he’ll show up after the blistering letter Sophia Cole is sure to send him, you’re a bigger idiot than I ever imagined.”

“Don’t you think you’re making too much out of this? It was an accident, Arch. I didn’t mean to trip. I didn’t mean to dump that drink on Livi. I didn’t mean—”

“Did you mean to use her Christian name?” Archer growled. “Two times, Gray! You called her ‘Livi’ two times in there. How long do you think that will take to get back to her grandfather?”

Had he? Gray’s mouth fell open. He wouldn’t have done that. He’d counseled her against doing so herself. He… He
had
. Gray thought he might be sick.

“Having an association with you is the last thing that will help her, you know.”

“I know!” Gray roared, louder than was necessary, but it felt good to roar.

Archer stomped forward and grabbed Gray by the lapels of his coat. “And now you’ll bring Dash’s wrath down on both of us. And Cait’s.”

And truly their sister-in-law’s wrath was worse. Cait would furrow her pretty brow and tell Gray how disappointed she was in him. Disappointing her was worse than disappointing their mother, because for some reason, Cait actually believed they could be welcomed by society if they just learned to behave. Hiring Lady Sophia had even been her idea. It was all a bunch of nonsense.

Gray shoved his brother away. “Get off me.” Then he started toward Brock Street, staggering more than he’d like.

Before he knew it, Archer grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hurried him in the other direction. “I may not be the alpha, but I won’t have you ignore me, Grayson.” He pushed him down Marlborough Lane, past Upper Bristol Road, and all the way to the River Avon.

Gray squirmed in his older brother’s grasp. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“Sobering you up. Quickest way I know how.”

With a hard shove to the back, Gray stumbled forward down the riverbank and splashed into the Avon. The chilly waters nearly turned his blood to ice, and he shot back out of the river like a cannonball, spitting out water and sputtering. “What the devil is wrong with you?”

Archer, in his nice and dry clothes, stood on the riverbank glowering at Gray. “You, for one thing,” he sneered.

Gray sloshed onto dry land, shaking the river water from his hair like a wet dog as he went. “I can’t believe you did that. If Lady Sophia had seen that—”

Archer rolled his eyes. “After your performance tonight, I’m sure she would have applauded me.” He heaved a sigh. “Sober enough to talk to me? Or are you still going to act like an indignant pup who needs to be dunked again?”

Gray folded his sopping arms across his chest. “Say whatever it is, so I can get out of these wet clothes.”

Archer nodded once. “Very well. You’ll pack your things and head to London first thing in the morning.”

Gray had never wanted to come to Bath in the first place. But now that he was here, now that he’d spent time with Livi, held her in his arms… “I promised Miss Mayeux that we’d work on the minuet and a country dance tomorrow.” That wasn’t true at all, but Archer wouldn’t have any way of knowing that.

“Then I’ll teach her.”

Gray scoffed. “Send her landing on her arse again? I’ve seen how capable you are of helping her.”

“You’ve hurt her much worse this evening than I ever could have.”

And in the pit of Gray’s stomach he knew Archer was right. Poor Livi. Had he hurt her chances beyond repair? He hadn’t meant to, not at all.

“The chit has you all tied up in knots.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

But Archer paid him no attention and continued, “Who knows what you’ll do next? It’ll be best for everyone, particularly Miss Mayeux and you, if you head to London tomorrow.”

Male laughter from the road caught Gray’s attention and he stared into the darkness toward the street.

“Grayson Hadley?” came Henry Siddington’s voice. “Have you decided to swim the Avon? Or did you decide it was simply time to bathe?”

“Bugger off,” Archer snarled, which only made Siddington and his companions laugh harder.

“There you are, miss.” Marie poured one last bucket of hot water into a copper tub. Then she helped peel Livi’s damp gown from her body. “You’ll feel better after your bath.”

Livi doubted she’d feel better, but it would be nice to wash the stickiness from her skin and the tears from her cheeks.
Bon
Dieu
! She never cried… Well, she rarely cried. Life with Papa and her brothers didn’t leave room for tears, but ever since landing in England, Livi had become something of a watering pot who’d lost control of her life. Though honestly, she had lost that control somewhere on the Atlantic, hadn’t she?

“Thank you, Marie. I can take it from here,” she said as she stepped into the tub.

Her maid nodded and then stepped around the changing screen. “Lady Sophia would like an audience with you.”

Livi sank into the warm water and heaved a sigh. “I suppose you can send her in.”

Marie glanced over her shoulder at Livi. “Listen to her ladyship. I believe she truly has your best interests at heart.”

And though Livi was certain of the same thing, she just wanted to be alone. That, however, was not to be. “I said you can send her in.”

Without another word, her maid escaped into the corridor and Lady Sophia stepped into Livi’s room. Though she couldn’t see the lady with the changing screen placed in front of the tub, Livi could sense her tutor’s unhappy presence. “Well,” she said more brightly than she felt, “I suppose that’s one way to get out of a musicale.”

A large sigh echoed around the room and then Livi heard her bed creak just a bit as Sophie must have sat down. “Heavens, Livi, where did you hear such an expression?”

Livi winced. Her exclamation when she’d been doused with punch had been fairly vulgar. The mere suggestion of one having relations with one’s mother was one for the scandal sheets. She would never live it down. Ever. “What expression?” she asked innocently, hoping against hope Sophie meant something else entirely.

She didn’t. “That has to be the most vile thing I’ve ever heard.”

Livi gulped. “Do you think anyone else heard it?”

Sophie scoffed. “I think everyone heard it, and those who weren’t present tonight will have heard about it on the morrow. I don’t even know how to advise you. How could you say such a terrible thing?”

Livi wasn’t sure. “It just flew out,” she tried to explain. “I don’t know, Sophie. I didn’t mean to. I must have heard one of the sailors on
Vespucci’s Marauder
say it, and it just slipped out.” In truth, she’d heard her brother and cousins yell that very curse at each other most of her life, but she didn’t really want to admit that.

“Well, however you came by that unfortunate phrase, you can count on your grandfather finding out about it in the morning. You may have ruined yourself beyond repair this evening.”

Livi sat up straight in her bath, sloshing warm water over the rim of the tub. “Perhaps Grandfather will send me back to New Orleans, then.”

Sophie gasped. “Liviana Mayeux, did you do this on purpose? Are you trying to get yourself sent away?”

She hadn’t been. But it wasn’t a terrible idea, was it? What if her grandfather and Sophie couldn’t tame her? Would they send her back to Papa?

“Livi?” Sophie demanded.

“
Non
,” she answered quietly. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

The bed creaked again and Livi heard Sophie’s footsteps as she crossed the floor. Her tutor walked around the changing screen and frowned at her. “I sincerely hope not. Because he won’t send you home, Livi.”

“Then what…?” she began.

“He mentioned a convent in Ireland to Lady Radbourne. I assure you, you don’t want to end up there.”

What bit of hope Livi had at seeing home again died a quick but sad death. “A convent?” So she could spend her days around other pious busybodies like Father Antonio? Livi would sooner run away in the dead of night and land a job as a tavern wench. Or perhaps she’d join a band of Barbary pirates. Or maybe she’d swim all the way to Louisiana on her own and confront Papa. How could he do this to her?

“Livi.” Sophie’s frown deepened. “I don’t like that expression. Tell me you’re not thinking of doing something rash.”

Livi forced a smile to her face and shook her head. “Of course not. Rashness would only land me in a convent.”

Sophie took what seemed like sigh of relief. “Good. We’ll sort all of this out in the morning, then. I promise.”

But Sophie’s promise meant very little. Livi believed that her friend would try to help her, of course. But if her grandfather was set on sending Livi off to a convent, she doubted there was anything Sophie could really do to prevent such a fate.

“Sleep well, Livi, because I fear that tomorrow will be a difficult day for you.”

Difficult, indeed. Insufferable. Positively dreadful. She sank lower in the bath until her head disappeared below the water. She stayed there until her lungs were ready to burst. And only then did she come up gasping for air. Why was it that her real life so resembled her bath? Constantly gasping for air.

***

Gray paced back and forth down the corridor, careful to keep his footsteps light since Lady Sophia slept in the chamber just next door to Livi’s. He rubbed absently at his forehead. The ache that was building between his eyes was one of epic proportions. And he deserved every last twinge and pain. What he’d done to Livi was terrible. Awful. He’d never, ever be forgiven. And he didn’t deserve to be.

He stopped in front of her door again and raised his knuckles to knock. Then he halted at the last moment. Was she sniffling inside her room? Certainly she wasn’t crying? He pressed one ear to the door, but the sound stopped. All he could hear was his own rapid heartbeat. He paced back down the length of the corridor. When he turned, he stumbled against a hard body.

“Bloody hell, Grayson. Either go tumble the chit and get it over with, or go to bed,” Archer snarled at him.

Not that the thought hadn’t crossed Gray’s mind, but Liviana Mayeux was not a woman who could be tumbled and then discarded. “What are you doing up here?” he grumbled back. They both had rooms in the opposite wing. There was no reason for Archer to be on this side of the house unless he was visiting someone. “You weren’t paying a visit to Livi, were you?” he asked, trying to keep from ripping his brother’s head from his shoulders at the very thought.

“I came to save your hide, you bloody idiot. I could hear your pacing all the way in my chambers. If you’re caught pacing this corridor, there will be hell to pay.” He growled the words at Gray.

If Gray wasn’t feeling quite so remorseful, he’d take a swing at his brother for good measure. But doing so would only cause a scene, a scene he’d do well to avoid. “I think she’s crying in there,” he blurted.

Archer raised a brow at him. “What makes you think that?”

“Because I’m the idiot who ruined her chance at making a good match,” Gray hissed back at him.

“You didn’t put those crude words in her mouth,” Archer reminded him.

That much was true. But still… “She would never have said such a thing if I hadn’t poured a vat of punch over her head,” Gray said, massaging his forehead again. There was a dull thump just behind his temples that was growing louder and louder.

“It was hardly a vat,” Archer chided. “And you splashed her with it. You didn’t pour it on her.”

“Same thing,” Gray grunted.

Just then, Archer cocked his head to the side and stepped closer to Livi’s door. “Did you hear that?” he asked softly.

Gray moved closer to him and listened intently. He didn’t hear anything. But then a muffled sob reached his ears. “Oh, dear God,” he groaned. “She
is
crying.” He reached for the door handle but Archer’s hand covered his.

“Don’t do it,” his brother ordered.

Archer could go to the devil. Gray wasn’t going to leave Livi behind a closed door where she was sobbing her eyes out. Not a chance in hell. Instead, he opened the door a crack and listened. Then he heard it again. One mournful sob. A piece of his heart must have broken in that moment, because that sob shook him to the core. He shoved Archer to the side with all his might and entered her chambers. Then he closed the door and shut his brother out of the room entirely. And shut himself inside with Livi.

“You’re going to live to regret this,” Archer hissed through the door.

He was probably right. Gray would live to regret this. He already did regret it. But he regretted being the cause of her scandal much more. He couldn’t stand on the other side of the door and listen to her sobbing. Not without going to her. He needed to drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

He stood completely still for a moment with his forehead against the door, taking deep breaths in and out through his nose, waiting for the moment to alert her to his presence. He finally turned slowly and came face to face with her bedchamber. Her room was nice and tidy, with a huge bed taking up much of the space. A wardrobe stood open in the corner of the room, her personal items there for him to see. Green garters. She wore green garters. Who the devil wore green garters? Evidently Liviana Mayeux did. And now, every time he looked at her, all he would be able to think about would be green garters hugging the sensitive skin of her upper thighs. He drew in a deep breath. Then he heard that gasping cry he’d heard earlier. A light shone on the other side of a silk screen in the corner of the room. She must be behind it.

“Livi,” he said softly. But there was no sound in return. Dear God, what if she had done herself harm in her delicate state? What if he found something he wasn’t expecting behind the screen? “Livi,” he repeated. He took a few tentative steps closer to the screen. “Miss Mayeux,” he said. Then he heard that gasp again. And a sputter and a splash of water along with it. She was in her bath? “Livi,” he barked.

“Who’s there?” came a watery response.

“Livi, it’s me, Gray,” he said. He stepped closer to the screen when she didn’t reply. “Are you all right?” He peered around the corner of the screen. He would just take a quick peek to be sure she was well.

“Don’t come any closer,” she screeched. He took a step back. Then another.

She jumped from the tub, and Gray could hear water sloshing from the copper bath as she did so. The beeswax candle behind her limned her body in shadow. Bloody hell. She was naked behind that screen. And he could see every dip and curve of her body in the silhouette created by the light and the screen. The light, the screen, and her natural beauty. And there was a lot of it. In minute detail.

She stood there frozen, and he couldn’t draw his gaze away. Her round bottom. Her pert little breasts. Her narrow waist. It was all outlined for him. Gray couldn’t have drawn a breath or spoken if he’d tried. All the blood in his body shot straight down to his manhood. He couldn’t have formed a cognizant thought if his life depended on it. All he could think was
Livi, naked. Livi, beautiful. Livi, curvy where he hadn’t expected it. Livi. Dear God, he wanted Livi.

“Why are you here, Gray?” she asked, crossing her arms across her breasts.

He could do nothing more than grunt. He couldn’t put together an intelligent sound. Not on his life.

“I beg your pardon?” she prodded. Then she sighed heavily. “I hope it’s you and not some prowler in the night,” she said.

One slim arm sneaked out from behind the screen. It was naked all the way up to her shoulder. He followed the line of it, licking his lips as he went. If he moved one inch in her direction, he might even see the side of her breast. Suddenly, her fingers snapped, drawing him from his utmost desire.

“Could you please pass me my wrapper?” she asked. When he didn’t move, she snapped those slim fingers again. He moved as though a gunshot had directed his actions.

“Where?” he finally asked. Evidently, she’d reduced him to monosyllables.

“On the bed?” she questioned. The bed.
Oh, dear God, the bed. The bed was right there and Livi was naked.

“Grayson?” she said.

He picked up the wrapper and very nearly threw it at her. But that could be even more of a mess. Instead, he placed it in her hand. When she had it securely within her grasp, she jerked it behind the screen and shrugged into it. Her doing so made him physically ache, even more than he already was, to see her cover that beautiful body with a robe.

Then she stepped from behind the screen as she pulled one edge of her wrapper to cover the other. She tied it around her waist with a sash. The silky material clung to her damp curves in all the right places.

Gray wanted to grab her tightly and kiss her senseless. So she’d be half as senseless as he was. But with his manhood raging, there was no way he could touch her. “Bloody hell,” he breathed instead.

The door cracked only slightly. “Miss Mayeux,” his brother called. “Are you decent?”

Hell, no, she wasn’t decent. She was decadent. She was naked beneath that wrapper.

“Decent as I can be, considering the situation,” she called back.

The door opened wider and Archer stepped inside. He tried to bite back his grin, but it was nearly impossible. “It appears as though you’ve struck him dumb and speechless, Miss Mayeux,” Archer said. He smothered a chuckle inside a cough in his open fist. Damn him to hell. “It would be best if you called on Miss Mayeux at a more appropriate time, wouldn’t it, Grayson?” he asked. “And a more appropriate place.”

Gray swallowed so hard he could hear it. “Better. Yes, better,” he agreed with a nod.

Archer took him by the shoulders and directed him toward the threshold. “Pardon the interruption, Miss Mayeux. Gray needs a moment to put himself back together.” His brother’s gaze dropped pointedly toward Gray’s trousers, where it must be quite obvious how Livi had affected him. Archer mumbled to him, “You had better put that thing away.”

“I loathe you,” Gray muttered as he let Archer lead him from the room. He didn’t look back at Livi. He couldn’t. He couldn’t look at her at all.

Archer closed the door softly behind him. “Will you ever learn to listen to me?”

Probably not. But Gray wished he had.