Wolfishly Yours (5 page)

Livi settled deeper into the feather ticking of the most uncomfortable bed she’d ever had the misfortune of sleeping in. They simply did not make beds on this side of the Atlantic the way they did in America. They were harder and lumpier, and they smelled as old as the villages did. She balled her pillow up under the side of her face and tried to will herself to sleep. But sleep was elusive. All she could think about was her conversation with Lady Sophia and the blasted musicale that she would be forced to attend the following night. One night to acclimate herself to Bath, and then her grandfather planned to thrust her into this world he lived in without any thought of her wishes on the matter.

Livi rolled to her side, adjusting her pillow with a fierce growl. That was something her grandfather would highly object to, as well. Evidently, ladies were not supposed to grunt or growl, even when they were annoyed. She supposed she would have to stop making Lycan noises if she wanted to fit in with society. But it was really difficult to drop a lifetime of learning. She’d grown up with Lycans, for goodness sake. It was impossible
not
to pick up some of their mannerisms, even if she didn’t grow a tail and howl at the moon when it was at its fullest.

There was so much she didn’t know. So much she couldn’t possibly hope to understand. She sighed heavily and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Perhaps some warm milk would help. They did have warm milk in Bath, didn’t they? She was certain she could find some. Livi slid her feet into her slippers and turned toward the door. She had no idea where the kitchens were, but certainly someone would be about who could direct her.

The servants in England never seemed to sleep. They prowled the corridors, waiting for a command. The complete opposite of what Marie did at home. They’d probably try to force her to allow them to get the milk for her. But she could get her own milk. Back home, she and her father met often in the dead of night to have a glass of warm milk and to steal the treats Cook left out just for them. Longing for home pierced her heart, but she stiffened her shoulders and left the room, sliding quietly into the dark corridor as she closed her door behind her.

Lady Sophia would hear her if she wasn’t quiet, so she tiptoed past her door and didn’t dare breathe until she was at the top of the stairs, far from the lady’s realm. Lady Sophia would probably turn her nose up as though she smelled something foul just before she gave Livi a lesson about comportment. Livi searched the quiet of the night for sounds, but no one was about, aside from the aged servant who slept by the front door. So some of them did sleep, after all. At their posts, of course. The Hadley men must not have returned for the night yet, if the poor butler was still up this late. Blast those brothers and their late-night carousing.

Why did it bother her that they were out in the wee hours of the morning? Probably because they were allowed the freedom she would never see again, not if her grandfather had his way about things.

She stepped softly past the servant until she was out of his line of sight and smiled when he mumbled to himself. She stopped hesitantly, trying to make out his words. But they were unintelligible. She turned and headed toward where she assumed the kitchens must be.

***

Gray cursed as he dropped his coins on the cobblestone walk. It was much too dark to find them, and the lights from the hack he’d hired simply created more shadow. He dug into his pocket for more coins and tossed the fare to the driver. The man snagged the coins in the air and looked at them appreciatively when he realized the sum was more than he’d expected. “Do you need some help getting to the door, sir?” he asked.

Did he look like he’d had that much enjoyment this evening? Gray shook his head, the action causing his world to unbalance, and he reached out for the corner of the coach to steady himself. “I believe I can make it,” he grunted.

“Are you certain?” the driver asked, a grin lurking about the corners of his mouth. Damn his hide. He was enjoying this.

“Quite,” Gray grumbled. Typically, he and Archer would lean on one another until they reached the safety of their quarters. But Archer was otherwise occupied, damn his eyes.

Gray tugged at the lapels of his jacket and smoothed his hair. “Do I look respectable?” he asked absently, as though he was talking to one of his brothers.

When the driver chuckled, he knew he’d made a mistake. “You look beautiful, sir. Shall I right your bonnet before you go into the house?”

Bonnet? The sun wasn’t even out. Oh, dear God, he must have had more to drink than he’d thought. The earl would kill him if he found him in such shape on his doorstep. Gray scrubbed at his face. The driver chuckled again. Then he climbed back up into his seat and put his pair in motion.

Gray swayed in the wind produced by the departure. A stiff wind would most likely blow him over. He steeled himself and took a hesitant step forward. He could do this. He could get inside, fall into bed, and wake up on the morrow with no one the wiser. Couldn’t he? Well, he’d done so before. Of course, he’d never spent one night under Holmesfield’s roof before.

The doorway looked like it was fathoms away. But he trudged forward once he willed his feet to move. When he reached the door, he settled his palms against it, and then his forehead, leaning heavily into it for support. If it wasn’t so late, the door would be formally attended. It was his own damn fault that he had to make noise at all. He was an idiot. But that was neither here nor there, not at this point.

He gently rapped upon the door. Within moments, he heard the light clip of footsteps and the door was flung open. Unfortunately, it did so while Gray was still using it for support. Within seconds, he found himself stumbling forward with all the finesse of a charging bull. And the butler, rather than waiting to be bowled over, stepped to the side to avoid being flattened instead of reaching out to stop Gray’s fall. Back home, they had burly servants who could handle a crisis. Evidently, the Earl of Holmesfield employed skinny servants who couldn’t handle a gentleman in his prime. Particularly not one of Lycan nature—tall and broad.

The butler did scurry forward as soon as Gray hit the floor. Gray landed on his elbow and rolled to cradle it. “Are you all right, sir?” the man whispered harshly.

Gray raised his head from the floor and glanced up at the butler, then lowered it back to land with a thud on the rug. It really was difficult to judge how hard a rug would be when one was foxed. “Do I look all right?” he grunted in response.

“Indeed, you look as though you have thoroughly enjoyed your evening, sir,” the man said. “Can I help you to your feet?” He held out a hand.

Gray raised his head again and groaned. “You and who else?” he muttered. The butler could not possibly help raise him.

“I’m stronger than I look, sir,” the butler said as his chest puffed up.

If that was the case, Gray wouldn’t be lying on the floor. He rolled to his side and climbed up on his hands and knees, then toddled to his feet. The room spun around him, and Gray reached for the butler. Wiry little thing, he was.

Suddenly, the scent of summer hit his nose, assaulting him almost as harshly as the floor had a moment ago. “Was Miss Mayeux recently here?” he asked.

“The earl’s granddaughter? Not that I’m aware of, sir.” He avoided Gray’s gaze.

“Ah, sleeping at your post, huh?” That made perfect sense. “If you’ll keep my little secret, I’ll keep yours.”

The man smiled broadly. “Bargain accepted,” he said.

Gray gestured down the hallway. “What’s down that corridor?” he asked.

“His lordship’s study.”

Gray couldn’t see Liviana Mayeux cavorting about her grandfather’s study at this time of night. “What else?” He made an impatient move with his hand.

“The yellow parlor.” The butler shrugged. “The kitchens.”

Gray nodded. “You may go,” he said. He had most definitely caught her scent. And despite his state of inebriation, he had a desire to find out why on earth Miss Mayeux would be wandering the corridors at such a late hour.

The butler looked somewhat relieved at being dismissed. “Shall I wait for Lord Radbourne?” he asked.

Gray highly doubted that Archer would find his way home that night. When he’d left Archer, he’d been heavily engaged in a game of cards. He was winning. Gray, on the other hand, was not. Once the liquor had begun to flow, he’d lost hand after hand. Archer, however, was quite the opposite sort. So, his older brother had taken a break long enough to put Gray in a hack before returning to the tables—at least Gray assumed he’d returned to the tables. There were a few pretty bundles to be had, as well. Either way, it didn’t matter. Gray was here and Archer was not.

“No need,” Gray replied.

After the butler bowed and backed out of the entryway, Gray looked down the looming corridor and took a step. It couldn’t quite be as long as it looked, could it? Certainly not. He picked up a candle from a table by the door and headed down the corridor. He followed Miss Mayeux’s summery scent all the way to the end but stopped when he heard soft humming from the kitchen. It had to be her. He pushed the door open slowly and poked his head inside.

The vision that met his eyes nearly took his breath. Liviana Mayeux stood by the cookstove in nothing more than her nightrail, a flimsy one at that. If Gray hadn’t been able to smell her scent, he would have assumed he was dreaming. Her virginal gown billowed around her shoulders and dragged along the floor. A lamp was lit behind her, casting her in shadows that outlined her body. A sudden and intense longing spread throughout his body. “What the devil are you doing in the kitchen?” he barked.

Miss Mayeux’s hand trembled with surprise, and she nearly jumped from her skin as the spoon in her hand clattered to the floor. In the silence of the night, the sound was nearly deafening. She sighed heavily and looked down at the utensil, then back up at him. “What the devil does it look like I’m doing?” she asked.

It looked like she was trying to get herself mauled by a foxed, overly amorous Lycan. But Gray certainly couldn’t say that. “Attempting to catch your nightrail on fire? Surely there must be easier ways to escape the social scene in Bath.”

“I wanted some warm milk, if you must know,” she said tartly.

“Trouble sleeping?” He could probably be more eloquent if his tongue didn’t feel like it had grown hairy and unwieldy.

Her gaze drifted up and down his body as he stepped fully into the kitchen. “Trouble holding yourself upright?” she returned.

Not really. He was doing well there propped against the wall. Wasn’t he?

“I have brothers, Mr. Hadley,” she said with a laugh. Then she pointed a spoon at him. “Don’t think that I don’t know where you’ve been.”

A sudden chagrin seeped into his mind. “And where might that be?” he asked.

Miss Mayeux stepped closer to him. The fabric of her nightrail rustled with each step. He couldn’t help but wonder if she wore anything beneath it. Such thoughts would only bring him trouble. But her hair hung in heavy, unbound waves over her shoulders, falling all the way to her waist. He wanted to bury his face in it and let her scent wash over him. He’d never smelled anything quite so decadent as her mix of flowery scents. She leaned close to him and inhaled deeply.

“You smell like a brewery,” she said, scrunching up her pert little nose. Then she leaned even closer. Her nose touched his jacket, and she leaned back with a harsh noise.

“Visited a lot of breweries, have you?” he asked.

She didn’t even look at him when she replied, “Visited a lot of whores, have you?” Then she stalked past him, back toward the cookstove.

“Wait,” he said. She didn’t stop, so he reached out to catch her elbow. If she were a wolf, she’d have snapped his hand off, if the look on her face was any indication. “I haven’t been with a whore.” He didn’t know why he wanted to tell her that. Truly it was none of her concern. He couldn’t even believe he was engaging in such a conversation with an innocent girl.

“I can smell her all over you,” Miss Mayeux said. Again she avoided his gaze as she spoke. Was she bothered by the fact that he smelled like a whore? How interesting.

Well, a whore, more than one actually, had perched herself in Gray’s lap that night. One had even lingered there for much longer than necessary. But he hadn’t taken her up on her offers. He’d been much too deep in his cups by then to do so. “I wasn’t with a whore,” he said again.

“Perhaps you’re too foxed to remember.” She shook her head and tugged her arm, but he didn’t release it. “Let me go, Mr. Hadley.”

Gray heard soft footsteps in the corridor and winced. “Lady Sophia,” he whispered as he released his grasp on Miss Mayeux’s arm.

“Oh, dear God,” Miss Mayeux groaned, tossing her head back in frustration. “All I wanted was a cup of warm milk.”

The door opened slowly, and Lady Sophia’s head popped around the corner. She took in the scene before her with a critical and appraising eye. “Miss Mayeux,” she said with a nod. Then she speared Gray with a glance that would have dropped a lesser man to his knees. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Warm milk,” Miss Mayeux said, retrieving a cup from beside the cookstove. She didn’t even attempt to explain.

Lady Sophia kept her gaze leveled on Gray. “Long night, Mr. Hadley?” she asked.

“Quite.” He refused to go into any detail. Who knew what lessons she’d dream up for him and Archer after this little conversation.

“Mr. Hadley might need someone to help him upstairs,” Miss Mayeux said softly.

“Volunteering for the job?” he asked. If he wasn’t quite so foxed, he would never have let that slip in front of Lady Sophia. Damn it to hell.

“Mr. Hadley,” his tutor scolded.

But Miss Mayeux cut her off. “Not with the way you smell,” she said as she turned on her heel and started for the door. She may as well have skewered him with a blade as with her sudden lack of interest.

If Lady Sophia wasn’t there, Gray never would have let the chit walk away. He would have chased after her and ensured that her interest was piqued. But he didn’t have that luxury tonight, so he just let her leave.