TO CATCH A WOLF

by Susan Krinard

  "I will leave it to Miss Hockensmith to explain," he said. "Perhaps you will hear from her what you would not accept from me."

  Before she could protest, he turned on his heel and strode into the hall. Brinkley appeared with a tray of hot tea, set it down on the table beside her, and gave her a glance of such sympathy that she wondered what he knew. But he, too, fled just as she gathered the words to ask. She was forced to wait, needles of pain stabbing into her legs, while Niall made preparations to leave and Cecily spoke to him in the hall.

  An hour before midnight, just as the long-case clock struck like a portent of doom, Niall put on his coat and left the house. Only something terrible would drive him out at such an hour, when the darkness would impede travel into the mountains. What could be so urgent?

  Cecily knew. She had been harbinger of the mysterious bad tidings. She had broken Athena's confidence. She was to be Athena's official jailer, at Niall's behest. Athena meant to get an explanation, even if it meant assuming that Cecily was her adversary… or her enemy.

  Gritting her teeth against the discomfort, Athena pushed herself up and focused her attention on getting to the sitting room door, one shuffling step at a time. Once there, she caught her breath, renewed her courage, and compelled her trembling legs to bear her just a little farther.

  Brinkley caught sight of her at the end of the hall, stopped in amazement, and rushed up to support her. She leaned on his arm with some gratitude. If it was not her imagination, her legs were getting stronger… but they were not yet strong enough for the tasks she might have to ask of them.

  "Thank you, Brinkley," she said. "Please take me to Miss Hockensmith."

  His usually stolid face showed a flicker of emotion, and she knew she had not misinterpreted it. "You don't like Miss Hockensmith, Brinkley?"

  "I beg your pardon, Miss Munroe. It isn't my place to like or dislike the lady."

  "But you do have an opinion."

  He assumed a carefully neutral expression and guided her down the hall toward the library. "Miss Hockensmith seems very free about the house, Miss Munroe. I think—" He hesitated.

  "Go on." She pulled him to a stop. "I need to know what I am up against, and you may be able to tell me."

  His mouth tightened. "I believe Miss Hockensmith sees herself as mistress here, very soon."

  Well, that was certainly no surprise. Athena started to move again, anger lending new energy to her muscles. "Thank you for being frank, Brinkley. Will you speak honestly to me if I ask again?"

  He looked down at her gravely. "Miss Munroe—we—the staff hope the best for you. Now that you can walk… perhaps things will be different."

  Different. How had the servants perceived life in the Munroe house? Had they considered it a burden to wait upon her? She had tried to be fair in her running of the household, but Niall was, at best, brusque with the staff and treated them rather like machines. Brinkley's admission made clear that he did not want Cecily Hockensmith as mistress of the house.

  But she would be that, if she married Niall. And suddenly Athena recognized what she had so avoided acknowledging until now—that the life she had returned to would be forever changed if Cecily became Mrs. Munroe. Cecily would arrange the house as she saw fit, give the orders, and take her place above Athena in the scheme of home life.

  A great chasm seemed to open under Athena's unsteady feet. Of course she should have known that everything must alter when Niall married. She had wanted him to concentrate on someone other than herself. She wanted him to be happy. But his happiness meant that she must either live as a dependent in the house she had managed, or strike out on her own.

  That had ceased to be impossible. She could walk. She was getting stronger. But this was the home she had loved, had made the perfect refuge from the world outside. Every detail had been refined to her specifications. It was her sanctuary, and she had seldom felt any desire to leave it.

  Yet, when she had gone to Long Park, it had been a break with the past she had not recognized for the profound event it had become. She had ventured far, not only in miles but in spirit. She had not returned unchanged.

  The Athena-that-was and the Athena of today were sisters, but they were no longer identical. One had been content in a life of service, of holding a secure place in society, even if that place was one of confinement and few surprises. She had believed that correcting social injustice was the only worthy undertaking for one such as herself. One who had nothing else to contribute.

  The new Athena had lost that contentment and sense of purpose. She didn't know who she was, or what she was capable of. But the wolf could not go back in her cage.

  Heaven help her. It was the wolf who hated Niall and suspected Cecily of the basest duplicity. It was the wolf who made her question all the truths she had lived by, who spurned the sacrifices she had made, who tore her apart inside with claws of steel.

  And it was the wolf who howled that she would always be alone.

  Alone. It is Morgan or nothing. There will be no other.

  "Miss Munroe? Are you ill?"

  She opened her eyes at Brinkley's voice and saw that they had somehow reached the end of the hall. "I am sorry, Brinkley. Is Miss Hockensmith in the library?"

  "Yes. Do you wish me to remain nearby, Miss Munroe?"

  "I'll be all right. Thank you, Brinkley."

  He escorted her to the library door, and she released his arm to demonstrate that she could negotiate the short remaining distance on her own. He lingered until she had stepped into the room, and quietly shut the door behind her.

  Cecily was seated in Niall's substantial leather chair behind his mahogany desk, leaning back in a most unladylike pose as if she had a perfect right to claim anything that was his.

  "It is time you told me why Niall left so quickly after you spoke to him," Athena said.

  Cecily bolted upright in the chair and looked genuinely astonished, as if she had expected Athena to remain meekly in the sitting room until the servants escorted her upstairs to bed. Had Niall not told her she could walk?

  "Athena!" she said, putting a hand to her throat. "You startled me. I had thought you would be much too tired to stay up late after your long journey." Her gaze swept the length of Athena's body. "My dear, how very wonderful! How long have you been able to walk?"

  Athena had no intention of allowing Cecily to escape the question. All of her senses boiled with anger and distrust. She chose, against the habit of many years, to listen to what they told her.

  "Niall is returning to the ranch," she said. "He made clear that you were to be my caretaker in his absence, and prevent me from leaving the house without your chaperonage. I presume that is why you are still here."

  Cecily's expression changed from one of feigned pleasure to a much more honest wariness. "Your brother is concerned for your welfare, as I am. It is unfortunate—"

  "Yes. Something is most unfortunate if he felt the need to leave almost as soon as we arrived… but it was also unfortunate that you told him where I had gone when I trusted you to keep my secret."

  "Why, my dear…" Cecily rose and walked around the desk, brushing her fingertips along the burnished wood. "I had no choice but to tell him where you had gone when he asked me. I did not wish to break your confidence, but your brother is not easily denied."

  "No, he is not. But because you prefer his regard to my friendship, I find myself a prisoner in my own home. And you have not suffered by it, have you?"

  Cecily's eyes sparked with affront. "I beg your pardon. I have always wanted only what is best for you. I have the experience that you do not, and that is why Mr. Munroe trusts me to look after you while he is gone."

  "And why has he gone, Cecily? You haven't answered my question." She took a step forward, careful not to grab for the doorframe. "Kindly tell me the truth."

  The pleasant curve of Cecily's lips grew thin and hard. "Is it the truth you really want, my dear? The truth of what I think of you, and of your lover?"

&n
bsp; Athena braced herself against the blows to come. "Yes."

  "Very well." Cecily smiled, a look as cold and calculating as it was triumphant. "But first you must sit down, dear child, or you may fall down. I do not believe you are quite steady on your feet."

  "I prefer to stand."

  Cecily leaned against the desk and folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, I informed your brother of your location when he arrived earlier than you had estimated. He would have discovered your absence soon enough." She sighed and shook her head. "You will recall that I made you no promises—quite deliberately. I prefer not to break my word if it can be helped."

  "What else did you tell him?" Athena demanded when she fell silent.

  "Why, merely that your judgment was not sound, and that you should perhaps live elsewhere for a time to gain much-needed experience and become detached from your various… obsessions. I am happy to say that your brother agreed with my judgment."

  "Obsessions?"

  "Your charitable causes, of course, which drive you to such excess. And also your infatuation with Holt—for is he not the real reason you went to the ranch? To be with your wild-man lover?"

  A week ago she could have answered in the negative with complete sincerity. Then she had told herself that

  Caitlin's welfare was her sole reason for the unprecedented journey. That willful naivete was dead.

  "Morgan is not my lover," she said calmly. "But I love him. He has an honesty you would never understand."

  Cecily laughed. "Indeed. Is he the knight in shining armor come to rescue you from life as a cripple?"

  "It is because of him that I can walk," she said. "He gave me the courage to challenge the things I had always believed without question… about the world, and myself."

  "And now you see the truth?" She continued to chuckle unpleasantly. "How amusing. Since you are so devoted to complete honesty, you will be most unhappy to learn that your Morgan Holt is less than the noble savage you believe."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why, have you never asked him about his past? Have you so little interest in the honor and good name of your brother and the respect of your friends?"

  Cecily knew nothing of Morgan's true nature, or of Athena's. Her insinuations bore on some other secret, one that Cecily plainly considered most detestable. And she was right… what did Athena know of his past, except that he had suffered?

  "I know that Morgan is a good man," she said. "What he did before—"

  "Is far worse than your imagination can conceive. You take such pride in helping the destitute and ignorant, the great and needy unwashed, and yet you remain so sadly callow." She put on an air of mock regret. "My dear Athena, it is indeed time that you knew the truth. Your lover is far worse than an uncouth boor who should not be allowed among civilized people. He is a murderer—a convict who spent years in prison. And you, child, are simply another one of his victims."

  Chapter 18

  Athena was hardly aware that she was moving until her back struck the wall. For a moment her thoughts were in chaos, and then she knew exactly how to respond.

  "You are a liar," she said. "You would say anything to further your own cause… whatever that may be. If you think that you can win my brother by tricks and stratagems such as this, you are the one who is sadly mistaken. Once I tell him how far you will go to become his wife—"

  "Do you think that is all I want?" Cecily's lids dropped over her eyes, as lazily vicious as a panther's. "Oh, yes, I do intend to marry your brother. And I do want you out of the way… which will be so much easier now that you must no longer be carried to and fro like a spoiled princess." She laughed again. "No, not a princess. A goddess. The goddess Athena, always ready to condescend to the unfortunate of any rank, and bestow her vast wisdom and generosity upon an unenlightened world. Yet all the time you perched so high upon your throne, you have had no idea how society regards you."

  "But you will tell me, won't you, Cecily?"

  "As your friend, I have no choice." Cecily toyed with the cuff of her sleeve. "You fancy yourself a leader of Denver society, and I suppose you are—if only because your brother is one of the most important, influential, and wealthiest men in the West. No one wishes to offend him by offending you. But when the ladies come to your house for meetings and bully their husbands and brothers and fathers into making donations… do you think they do it out of sheer admiration and devotion? Oh, no. They pity you, Athena… and they have come to resent what you force them to do with your 'gentle' persuasion. You make them suffer guilt for not feeling as you do. And so they allow you to rule them in small ways—and go about the rest of their lives without you quite happily."

  All the breath squeezed from Athena's lungs. "You are new to Denver society. You cannot know—"

  "I am not such a newcomer anymore, dear girl. You have helped with introductions, and your brother's partnership with my father has done wonders for my position here. The crowning touch was in giving me control of the Winter Ball which I have perfected in ways your dull sensibilities would fail to grasp. It will be a triumph, I will take the credit, and Denver will have a new princess to adore."

  Athena's legs had gone beyond the point of mere pain and felt like blocks of ice. "I do have friends in Denver. They will come to realize what you are, and so will my brother."

  "Will they?" She clucked sadly. "Your brother is already convinced that I have been right all along in my warnings about you. He has had the evidence that you cannot be trusted to run your own life, especially not in Denver among so many unprofitable memories. I always knew that having a cripple underfoot would be annoying, but you have a will strong enough to oppose mine. Soon you will be gone to New York, and Niall will ask me to marry him. And as for your lover… I doubt that you need be troubled by him ever again."

  The doorframe bit into Athena's palm. "Why did Niall return to Long Park?"

  "It should be obvious. Once I told him what Holt is, he knew he must personally see to it that such a foul criminal—a man who killed his own father—is driven from Colorado. Permanently."

  Athena allowed her weight to sag against the wall. Morgan had killed his own father? It was unthinkable, inconceivable. One might as well accuse Niall of killing his beloved mother.

  And yet Morgan was a werewolf. He was impelled by urges an ordinary man could not understand. Was it so impossible that a man with a wolf's nature might kill more easily than one fully human, could lose control to the beast within him?

  She shook her head violently, sickened by her doubts. Morgan was no murderer… and even to consider that he had committed patricide was absurd. Ludicrous.

  Niall had gone after Morgan, believing such stories, already driven by rage. It would not be a simple matter of protecting Athena or society from a supposed murderer. Oh, no. This would be personal. How much of an excuse would he need for his hatred to become lethal? And how much would it take for Morgan to strike back with the same fell purpose?

  "Do you know what you have done?" Athena whispered. "You've not only endangered Morgan but my brother as well."

  "Come, now. Do you have so little faith in your brother?"

  Think, Athena. "Who told you? Who passed on these lies about Morgan?"

  "They are not lies, I assure you. I have had the information from very reliable sources. As for who alerted me to the grave danger Holt presents… you remember that horrid snake-woman from the circus? It seems she has no more love for you than I have for that red-haired hussy who set her cap for Niall. We found ways to be useful to one another."

  Red-haired hussy. Who could she mean but Caitlin? Athena thought back on the times she had seen her brother and Caitlin together. If there had been an attraction there, she had been too caught up in her own problems to see it. But Cecily had not been so oblivious.

  Niall and Caitlin. It was almost as mad a notion as branding Morgan a killer. And Tamar… she had always seemed to resent Athena, but why would she betray Morgan? What did she know about h
is hidden past?

  Cecily was right about one thing: Athena could not trust her own judgment, which had been so horribly flawed from the beginning. She had put her faith in false friends, underestimated her brother's guilt and resentment, and complacently believed herself to be a respected and useful member of society. Cecily might exaggerate the opinions of the women of Denver, but there was a grain of truth in that particular claim that Athena couldn't ignore.

  I wanted to see, in myself and everyone else, only what made me feel important and needed.

  She met Cecily's eyes. "You have taught me a valuable lesson, Cecily. From this moment on, I will not unquestioningly accept what others tell me. I will discover the truth for myself, with my eyes open. Morgan will give me the truth, and Niall will listen to what I have to say."

  "Even if he would—which I strongly doubt—you will not have the opportunity to speak to him, my dear. You are to remain here, safe and sound. Remember?"

  Cecily's smile filled Athena with such rage that she hardly perceived the emotion for what it was. "How do you intend to stop me?"

  The older woman's mouth dropped open, as if she had seen a wolf rise up on its hind legs and speak.

  "Do I shock you?" Athena asked. "Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think you do."

  Cecily's mouth closed with a snap. "You will remain here as your brother ordered, or…"

  "Or you will… what will you do, Cecily? Are you prepared to restrain me yourself?"

  "The servants. Niall left strict orders—"

  "You assume that all the servants will obey without question."

  Cecily took a step back, her gaze flashing to the door behind Athena and then to the bellpull in the corner of the room. She rushed around the desk to yank the cord.

  Brinkley stepped into the room so quickly that Athena knew he must have been waiting very nearby. "Miss Munroe," he said, "how may I be of assistance?"

  "I called you here," Cecily said sharply. "Mr. Munroe left clear instructions that Miss Munroe is not to leave the house unchaperoned. Miss Munroe may not be inclined to cooperate. Please escort her to her room, and lock the door."