Big Bad Wolf

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “Almost.”

  She sighed against his chest. “I think we should go back to Vanora Point. I think I prefer the company of that uncanny Mr. Larkin to most any of the men you introduced me to tonight.”

  “I have business here, and besides, Vanora Point gets dreadfully monotonous after a while.”

  “I like monotony,” Molly muttered as she closed her eyes again.

  “I suppose you could stay at the hotel tomorrow evening, and I could go to Phil’s without you.”

  She lifted her head slightly and opened one eye. “I don’t think so. Those women were entirely too . . . too familiar.”

  There was a hint of petulance in her voice. Wolf could almost convince himself that his wife was jealous, but it was a ridiculous thought.

  “What are you going to do with your winnings?” He slipped one finger into the bodice of her gown and withdrew the cash.

  “I don’t know,” she said sullenly. “He wouldn’t take it back.”

  “What do you mean,” Wolf lowered his head so it was close to Molly’s, “he wouldn’t take it back?”

  “I didn’t want it, so when you finally allowed me to leave the table I tried to give it back to that rude young man. He seemed very upset when he lost.”

  “It would have been dishonorable for him to take that money, darling,” Wolf droned. “You no doubt embarrassed him greatly. Very good,” he added.

  “Wolf,” Molly said, and from the sound of her voice she was almost asleep. “Don’t call me darling.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed once and placed an arm across his midsection, making herself quite comfortable. “Because you don’t mean it.”

  Within seconds she was asleep.

  The literature Wolf had provided was most interesting, but Molly couldn’t possibly sit still all day. After a delivery of several new dresses, Molly put on one of the simpler outfits and laced up her walking boots.

  There were throngs of people on the street, so it would certainly be safe for her to take a short walk. Wolf had told her to leave the suite only for lunch in one of the dining rooms downstairs, and while Molly was quite sure he had meant for her to return directly to the suite, he hadn’t actually ordered her to do so.

  The dress she wore was lightweight and simple in design, and the color was a pleasant blue, not a pale pastel and not dark, but the color of a robin’s egg. Unlike her silk gowns, the neckline was decent, and she could leave the suite with her head held high.

  She took the stairs briskly, slowing to a more sedate pace when she passed another resident.

  She ate lunch as quickly as was proper. She watched the other diners, some families, some single diners like herself, and wished that Wolf were with her. Even when he didn’t say a word, she was comforted by his presence. She had always enjoyed her quiet time in the forest, but she’d never wished to spend an entire day alone.

  Her view from above, from the window of their suite on the third floor, had protected her from the noise, but as Molly walked down the promenade she couldn’t help but make note of the riot of sounds. Horses’ hooves against the road accompanied by the turn of well-oiled wheels was rather rhythmic, while the shouts that came from all around punctuated the rhythm irregularly.

  She took in everything, turning her gaze up to the tall buildings, behind her to the awning at the entrance to the Waldorf, and even occasionally ahead.

  Molly was looking up when she bumped into a woman who was peering through a shop window. She apologized profusely to a sour-faced lady who didn’t seem inclined to forgive the infraction.

  In order not to get lost, Molly stayed on the same street, even though she glanced longingly down unexplored avenues. Perhaps one day . . . .

  She was looking up when the boy ran into her, almost knocking her down. She grasped his shoulders, even as he tried to spin past her, mainly to keep either of them from falling to the ground.

  A whistle sounded, a shrill intrusion to the sounds Molly was becoming accustomed to, and a second later a burly policeman in a wrinkled blue uniform grabbed the boy by the collar and dragged him backward and off of Molly.

  The child squealed, and the policeman, a brutish looking man who was taller even than Wolf and twice as wide, lifted the boy so that he stood on tiptoes to keep from being choked by the grip at his throat.

  “Excuse me,” Molly called. The policeman ignored her and turned away, and she called again, louder this time.

  A crowd was gathering.

  The policeman turned slowly, and there was no hint of patience at all on his round face.

  “Let me go!” the child screamed, struggling fruitlessly against the firm grip. The child’s struggles didn’t affect the policeman at all.

  “What do you want, miss?” the policeman snapped, ungracious and impatient.

  Molly stood tall and stared up into the policeman’s face. Goodness, Wolf would be furious if she were arrested, but she couldn’t allow that child to be manhandled.

  The boy was filthy, his hair too long and matted, his clothes no better than rags. His screams had turned his face a bright shade of red, and he was clearly terrified.

  “What are you doing to my brother?” Molly asked calmly.

  The child stopped squirming, and turned inquisitive green eyes up to Molly.

  “Your brother,” the policeman repeated, obviously unbelieving as he looked up and down her expensive dress.

  “Yes. You see,” Molly turned her gaze to the little boy and smiled sweetly. “It’s been just Ralph and me ever since the accident.” She whispered mysteriously when she said the accident, and allowed the policeman to wonder at the circumstances. “Ralph ran away several weeks ago, and we’ve been so worried. I was recently married, you see, and poor Ralph was afraid he wouldn’t be welcomed in my new home, but that’s not the case.”

  “He’s a thief,” the policeman thundered.

  Molly tsked loudly. “Ralph! I’m so ashamed.” She turned her gaze back to the policeman, and tried to look properly contrite. “I’ll be glad to pay for anything Ralph stole, and for any damages that might have resulted from his crime spree.”

  “It was an apple,” the boy said, angry and beginning to struggle again. “And I only took it because I was hungry.”

  Molly reached out and took the boy’s arm, and the policeman reluctantly released his grip. “You may send the bill to me at the Waldorf,” she said calmly. The child and the policeman stared at her as if they were seeing her in a new light. “Molly Trevelyan, and please have the bill sent directly to me,” she said, thinking of the fortune she’d won. “There’s no need for Wolf to know about this.”

  The policeman grudgingly turned over his prisoner to Molly, and when the boy tried to break free she tightened her own grip.

  “What did you do that for?” he asked, struggling, but just a little. “Are you crazy?”

  “Of course not. I just couldn’t let that angry policeman carry you off, and all for an apple!”

  “Well, thanks,” he said, every bit as grudging as the policeman had been. “But you can let me go, now.”

  Molly didn’t let go. “What’s your real name?”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “I suppose I shall have to continue to call you Ralph,” she said with a sigh.

  “Arthur,” he muttered.

  “How old are you, Arthur?”

  Again, he clammed up.

  “Ten?” she guessed.

  “Fourteen!” he said indignantly.

  She wanted to launch into a lecture on stealing, but his excuse rang in her ears. He’d been hungry.

  Maybe he’d rather have a meal than a lecture.

  Before she could make the offer. Arthur broke free and took off down the street. Molly thought about calling out, but she knew it would do no good. Arthur was quick, and Molly held her breath as the child crossed the street, barely avoiding being hit by a carriage.

  Exhausted, Molly turned and started back toward the hotel
. Children shouldn’t be living like that, but she knew that many did. Hungry, dirty, with perhaps no one but a make-believe sister to protect them from the world.

  On the way back, she didn’t glance up once.

  Chapter Twelve

  Molly stared in dismay at the gray dress that was spread across the bed. This was Wolf’s idea of a joke, the reason he had smiled so widely when he’d given in to her request for just one gray dress.

  First of all it wasn’t exactly gray. It was more of a pewter, and was shot with silver threads that sparkled when the light shone on the fabric. And she could tell very well that the neckline was every bit as low as the emerald gown, though it was more square than rounded.

  The lines of the ball gown were simple, the skirt full but not flowing, and the bodice free of decoration. The pewter sleeves looked as if they would fit her tightly, from shoulder to wrist.

  She was supposed to wear the monstrosity tonight, to a ball that was being held in this very hotel. Wolf had commanded it.

  At least they wouldn’t be going to that gambling hall Wolf insisted on frequenting. On occasion, Wolf would demand that she play a quick game of high card, and her luck had been good. There were several thousand dollars stashed in a new pair of shoes, money Wolf forced on her.

  She didn’t need it and didn’t want it, but he wouldn’t allow her to give it back. Of course, she’d used a bit of her initial winnings to pay the man who’d called on her to pay for the apple Arthur had stolen, and when he’d declared that he was sure the boy had stolen from his market before, and not been caught, Molly had paid him again.

  That had been a very expensive apple.

  She’d walked down Thirty-third Street several times since her encounter with Arthur, but she hadn’t seen him again.

  They’d been in New York less than a week, and already they’d fallen into a routine. Wolf was gone when Molly woke in the morning, and stayed away until late afternoon. Molly slept late, because Wolf kept her up half the night. She smiled as she fingered the pewter fabric that covered half the bed.

  At night, when Wolf loved her, Molly knew that he needed her more than he would ever admit. He lost himself, forgetting to scowl, and he even smiled on occasion, a real smile, not his familiar wicked grin.

  And Molly forgot herself, as Wolf did. She forgot that this marriage was a business deal, that her husband’s obvious intentions were to corrupt her totally. He proved that every day with the shocking books he provided, the scandalous clothes, the late evenings in his gambling hall.

  But what happened between them when all that was forgotten, when Wolf took her in his arms, was much too beautiful to be corrupt.

  So Molly slept late, usually missing breakfast. She had a noon meal in one of the many dining rooms in the Waldorf, and spent the afternoon reading or stitching on a sampler she was making for Wolf. It was a wedding sampler, with their names and the date of their marriage embroidered in silk, and with a border of flowers in yellow and blue. Most afternoons she took a short walk. It was impossible for Molly to sit all day long.

  When Wolf returned later in the afternoon, they changed clothes, dined in one of the smaller, more private rooms, and then the evening of debauchery began.

  Well, to Molly their evenings at the gambling hall were debauchery. To Wolf they were business as usual.

  Knowing it was scandalous, Molly donned the gray dress. She had known that the neckline was horribly low, but she wasn’t prepared for the sight of her breasts pushed up and together until they practically spilled over the top of the square neckline.

  “Wonderful.”

  Molly spun around at the sound of her husband’s supremely satisfied comment. He was ready himself, clothed in black evening dress that made him look dashing and civilized, with just a hint of the Trevelyan pirate in his eyes and the set of his mouth to contradict the image.

  “Wolf,” Molly groaned. “I can’t possibly leave our room in this gown. It’s positively disgraceful.”

  “I know,” he said with a grin. “And you’re beautiful in it.”

  “Must we shock everyone in the city of New York?” It took all Molly’s control not to stamp her foot like a displeased child. “Can you not leave me just a single grain of dignity?”

  “Not a grain,” he said casually, stepping forward with a predatory and wicked gleam in his eyes. “But there is something missing.”

  “You mean besides the top portion of my gown?”

  His grin grew. “Besides that,” he said lowly, reaching into the pocket of his dress jacket. “Turn around.”

  Molly did as he commanded, turning her back on that insolent grin.

  “I like your hair twisted up this way,” Wolf said, lowering his mouth to the back of her neck. “It makes this so easy.”

  Molly shivered. “This is what I was missing?”

  She felt the cold weight of the jewels against her throat before she realized what Wolf was placing around her neck.

  “Diamonds,” he whispered against her ear. “Nothing else would do for this gown, don’t you agree?”

  Molly laid her fingers atop the cold stones that dangled against her skin. “It’s too much —”

  “You can never have too much, Red.” Wolf spun her around and dangled matching earrings in front of her eyes. “Tonight, all eyes will be on you.”

  “And therefore,” she said cynically, “on you.”

  “You know me too well,” he admitted, fastening on one earring and then the other. When he was done, he stepped back and studied her with open admiration. “Splendid. You do dance, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she shook her head at him, making the diamonds at her ears sway. “Believe it or not my life was not a complete wasteland before you came along.”

  “Come here.” Wolf reached out and captured her hand, and pulled her against him solidly. In his arms she felt safe, and warm, and happy. “You do look shockingly magnificent, Red,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers.

  She couldn’t help but respond, as she did whenever he touched her. Her anger and frustration evaporated when Wolf molded his mouth to hers and teased her with his tongue.

  Molly wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her body against his. When he kissed her like this she felt it to her toes, to the very center of her body and her soul. Maybe they could forget the ball and stay right here.

  Wolf pulled away from her abruptly, and grinned down at her wickedly. “That’s better,” he whispered.

  “What?” she whispered dully as he stepped away from her. “What’s better?”

  “You were looking much too pale, but now there’s a nice glow to your cheeks and color to your lips.”

  “You’re despicable,” Molly said as he took her arm.

  “I know.”

  Normally, Wolf avoided these occasions like the plague. Society accepted him because he had the Trevelyan fortune, but he’d always been just on the outside. He heard the whispers that followed him wherever he went, the rumors that had quieted over the years but had never died.

  So he flaunted his unconventional life-style, threw their silly rules right back in their faces.

  Just as he was throwing Molly in their faces tonight.

  She clung to his arm as she had when they’d first entered Phil’s. Did she look to him to protect her? Surely she knew better by now.

  There was not another woman in the room to rival Molly. In the gray dress that matched her eyes, she cut a striking figure. And with that fabulous red hair piled high on her head, the bare flesh beneath it pale and soft, she would take the breath away from any man.

  The jeweler who had sold him the diamonds had tried to sell a hair ornament to match, but Wolf had declined. He wanted nothing in the curls. Molly’s red tresses needed no adornment.

  All eyes turned to them as they entered the Grand Ballroom, and Molly’s grip on his arm tightened.

  “Don’t be afraid, darling. I’m the only one here who bites.”

  His comment brought
a smile to her lips, and Wolf was struck with the sudden urge to kiss her again. An urge he denied, because it revealed too much.

  “Shall we dance?” he asked softly as he led Molly onto the dance floor. The crowd parted for them, and heads craned to get a better look at Wolf Trevelyan’s unfortunate wife.

  “I’m not very good,” she revealed in a whisper when he took her in his arms for a waltz. “If I step on your toes will you let me fall?”

  “Never,” he answered in a voice as soft as her own, and she smiled up at him. Brilliantly. Beautifully. Bright as a summer day.

  And he wished for a moment that he had forgotten his purpose for tonight. That on this evening he was alone with his wife in the solitude of their suite. And he wished, for a moment, that he knew how to love her.

  Only for a moment.

  “Wolf, darling.” The husky, syrupy and insincere voice came from directly behind them, and Molly turned her head as Wolf did to see a tall, dark haired woman with a false smile on her face bearing down on them.

  And she called Wolf darling.

  “Adele.” Wolf took the woman’s outstretched hands and kissed them, one and then the other. “You’re gorgeous, as always.”

  Molly noted the emeralds around the woman’s neck, at her wrist and her earlobes, and she wondered silently if Wolf had given the jewels to this Adele. If he had kissed her neck and placed the jewels around her throat.

  Adele turned her wide brown eyes to Molly. “And this must be your bride.” She all but gritted her teeth when she spoke, and Molly knew that this woman had been one of the mistresses Wolf had so casually spoken of.

  “You’ve heard,” Wolf said casually.

  “Of course I’ve heard. The entire city is agog with the news.”

  Adele stood several inches taller than Molly, and her height, along with her striking black gown, provided her an imposing presence. The woman looked at Wolf as if she intended to kiss him right then and there, and made it clear with her proprietary stare that she wouldn’t think twice about shoving Molly aside and taking her place.