Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents)

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “What’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” Bekah asked the little girl.

  “Bad dream,” Ivy shyly replied.

  “Come with me,” Rebekah held out her hand for the little girl to clasp. The two walked to the bed and the older lifted the younger onto it before climbing on herself. She gathered the little girl in her arms and pulled her close. “You know I love you so very much, Ivy Rose” Rebekah told Ivy. She felt the little girl nod her head.

  “Why was that man so angry?”

  “He has a lot of hate inside him, and he doesn’t like me very much.”

  “Oh.”

  “Try to go back to sleep,” she urged Ivy, pulling the girl closer to her body. She slipped the wet cloth back over her eyes and soon fell asleep.

  ***

  Later that morning, in the study, Thorn pushed back from the desk. He had worked all night, going through the journals. He found that the estate would run well being overseen by the steward that had reported to Theodore over the years. Now he knew he could take Rebekah and the twins to London and not have to worry about the estate and those that lived on it. He shut the last journal, pushed back from the desk, and stood, stretching his cramped and stiff muscles. He walked to the window and pulled back the heavy drape that covered it. Outside, the two dogs boisterously played with one another. A staff member must have let them out.

  “Papa! Papa!” He heard the clip clopping of little feet before they slid to a stop. “Oh, Uncle Thorn,” the boy said dejectedly.

  “Good morning, Zachary,” Thorn said, turning and letting the drape drop back into place, throwing the room into muted tones. The boy’s lower lip began to tremble. “Come here you rapscallion,” Thorn walked over to the boy, hefting him into his arms. “What’s this about?” He asked, wiping away tears as they escaped from the little boy’s eyes.

  “Thought it was a bad dream,” the boy mumbled.

  “I know you did. I want it to be a bad dream as well. You know I loved your father and mother very much and miss them just as much as you do.” He waited for the boy to nod. “How would you like to go on a trip?”

  “A trip?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where to?”

  “London.”

  “Can Piddles and Smelly come too?”

  “Of course, they can.”

  “What is London like, Uncle Thorn?”

  “Different than here.”

  “How?”

  “It is loud. There are lots of people that live in London. There are parks where other children go and play.”

  “There are other children in London?”

  “Yes. I might be able to introduce you to some.”

  The little boy seemed to think about this a moment before replying. “Will Aunt Bekah be able to go with us?”

  “Of course, she will. Your Aunt Bekah and I are married now. We are a family, you, Ivy, Aunt Bekah, and myself.”

  “Are you and Aunt Bekah going to leave us like Papa and Mama did?”

  “I plan to be around a long time,” he said, then heard the little boy’s stomach growl. “Are you hungry?” Zachary nodded his response. “Let’s see if we can find something to eat.” He walked out of the study and down the hall to the breakfast room from where delicious smells were emanating. He helped Zachary sit at the head of the table. After filling a plate for the both of them, he delivered the plates to the table, and took the chair to the boy’s left. Zachary kept asking different things about London, and Thorn answered as best he could.

  They were half-way through the meal when Rebekah and Ivy joined them. Thorn began to stand, but Rebekah waved him to sit. Thorn watched her assist Ivy in filling her plate and then aid the little girl in carrying it to the table. She then returned to the buffet to fill her own. Once she sat down, she picked up her fork and began pushing her food around on her plate. He noticed she had dark circles under her eyes and her face looked splotchy. Yesterday had been exceptionally difficult on her.

  “Uncle Thorn says we are going to London,” Zachary announced excitedly.

  “When?” Ivy asked, sounding just as excited as her twin.

  “As soon as possible,” Thorn answered before taking another bite of food.

  “When were you going to tell me?” Rebekah asked, placing her fork gently on her plate.

  Thorn watched her movements and knew they belied what she truly felt. He could see the anger shimmering along the surface. “Today. I need to return to London as soon as I can.”

  “You have scarce been here a few days. Can’t your sins wait a little longer?”

  “Not now, Rebekah.”

  “If not now, when? Why do we have to go with you? Can’t we just stay here as we always have?”

  “There are things you do not know about.”

  “Tell me. Explain them to me. I assure you that I am not a stupid woman. I do understand basic concepts when they are explained properly.”

  “I said, not now. Eat your breakfast,” he instructed her as if she were one of the twins.

  “I find I have lost my appetite,” she said, pushing back from the table and standing. Rebekah placed her napkin beside her plate before walking out of the room.

  “Aunt Bekah cried last night,” Ivy announced to the table. “Before I fell asleep I heard her say that more children should have a papa like mine. Did she mean that my Papa was good?”

  “I think she meant he was wonderful. I’ll be right back,” he quickly stood and chased after Rebekah. He caught up with her at the top of the stairs. “Bekah, listen, I’m sorry this seems like it is all happening very quickly, but it has to. There are things you don’t need to know about.”

  “You have no leave to call me anything but Rebekah, and I understand Thornton. You continue living your life while the twins and I will live ours. What I don’t understand is why we can’t remain here. We will just be in your way in London.”

  “I have to have you and the twins close.”

  “Your mistress won’t appreciate it.”

  “What do you know of my mistress?”

  “Do you truly think that your actions stay in London? People travel and people talk. I know more about you than what you probably think I do. I know it is more than I wish to know.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “You mean I do not know that your mistress is the great actress Aimée Beauchamp. I do not know that you operate the most notorious gaming hell in London. I do not know the last thing you ever had planned was to become a father to two children. I do not know that your brother, along with several others, tricked you into signing the documents to see us married. You see, Thornton Wulfe, you should listen to what I have to say, because I know more about you than you think I do, perhaps even more than you know about yourself.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “Like I said, people travel, and people talk. Women love to gossip, almost as much as men do. And those women could not wait to inform me about my dastardly brother-in-law. And now, I’m married to that man. So tell me husband, shall we be accompanying you, or do I know too much? Am I a liability to you?”

  “See that everything you need is packed by the end of the week. We will be leaving then. No more questions. Understand?”

  “Of course,” she turned and disappeared down the hall.

  He watched her go and ran his hands through his hair. She knew too much. What else did she know?

  ***

  The household lived in a state of upheaval the rest of the week. Trying to tell the twins that they could live without this or that for a while was like pulling teeth. Having just fought the last battle she was going to, Rebekah stormed down the stairs in search of her errant husband. He was not in the study, nor was he in any other room downstairs. As she passed a window, she saw him mounting one of the horses. Knowing he was about to escape caused her to burst into action. She ran down the hall and out the front door to the lane that led from the stable to the road. As she approached the drive, she threw her hands up i
n the air and turned. Rebekah had not expected to see the belly of the horse, or the hooves that pawed at the air above her head. She stood frozen.

  “Bloody hell!” Thorn sawed back on the reins as soon as he saw the crazed woman running into the horse’s path. He had an excellent view of the top of her head from where he sat perched precariously on the saddle. The horse danced on its hind legs and pawed the empty air with its front hooves. Wild grunting and neighing sounds came from the beast. Finally, Thorn pulled on the reins until the horse spun just enough to land on all four hooves without doing damage to the crazy woman that still stood like a statue, her hands in the air. He could hear men running towards them. “Approach cautiously,” he called, attempting to sooth the agitated horse.

  A stable lad approached with an apple in hand. “Here, Mercury, look what I ‘ave for ye,” the man said. The horse sniffed the air and lowered his head to receive the treat. The man took the opportunity to grab the bridle while Thorn slipped off the back of the horse.

  Thorn handed the other man the reins and exchanged a few low words with him before he turned his attention on the woman who had caused all the chaos in the first place. Her arms were once more against her sides and her face looked slightly pale. He stomped over and grabbed her arm, spinning her towards the house. She swayed precariously and he took a firmer grip of her upper arm, “Oh, no you don’t. You are not getting out of this by fainting.”

  “I’m not going to faint,” she snarled back, ripping her arm out of his grip. “I merely felt a bit light-headed but am much better now.”

  “Good,” he said, grabbing her arm once more. “Then you won’t mind explaining to me what you were trying to do just then. Do you have a death wish?” He asked as he led her into the study and slammed the door shut behind them.

  “No, I don’t have a death wish,” she argued as she spun away from him and planted both fists firmly on her hips.

  “Then what would you call what just happened out there?”

  With every step he took closer to her, she found she had to crank her head back to look at him. The top of her head came to the bottom of his chin, but still she hated that feeling of superiority his mere height gave him. She quickly looked around the room. In front of the bookshelves, she saw a stool and quickly grabbed it to stand on it.

  “What do you need that for?”

  “I want to be able to look in your eyes when I’m yelling at you,” she answered.

  “Yelling at me? You’re the fool who threw herself in front of a galloping horse!”

  “Fool?!”

  “Yes, fool! What was so damn important that you risked your life?”

  “If you are going to be underfoot, you could at least make yourself useful!”

  “What in bloody hell are you talking about?”

  “You watch your language around the children!”

  “Since they’re not around, I think I am safe, unless you consider yourself a child.”

  “I am not a child, but you must be the way you selfishly flit from here to there without staying and helping.”

  “What are you talking about, woman?” he shouted in frustration.

  “I’m talking about the twins and getting them packed to go to London. Do you know how many fights I’ve had with them over the last few days about what they can and can’t take? I have yet to pack for myself for dealing with them.”

  “Let them take whatever they want,” he shrugged off the answer as if it were nothing.

  “Come with me,” she regally stepped off the stool, crossed the room, and opened the door. She went up the stairs, refusing to look back to see if he followed or not. If he knew what was good for him, he would be on her heels. She opened the door to the nursery. “Do you see that pile over there?” She indicated three small trunks stacked under the window.

  “Yes.”

  “That is what the children and I have agreed they can take. I should tell you that none of those trunks hold their clothes and absolute necessities.”

  “What…”

  “Do you see that pile over there?”

  Thorn looked at the pile of toys, books, knick-knacks, and other items that grew before his eyes. He watched the twins each dump an armful of items on the pile as he stood there. “What is all this?” Thorn swept his hand through the air indicating the large pile of items.

  “These are the additional things they want to take with them. I have tried to reason with them. Again, I am tired of being a single parent. Your brother, for some reason I have yet to understand, thought you would be excellent in a father role. Here is your chance to prove him right. I have a pounding headache and am going to my room. Good luck.” Rebekah’s skirts swished as she left the room.

  “Is Aunt Bekah all right?” Ivy asked worriedly.

  “I think you two rapscallions might have worn her out.”

  “We didn’t mean to,” Ivy sniffed.

  “Hey, now,” Thorn said going to his knee in front of the children. “No need for tears. We just need to figure out how to make her happy again.”

  “How do we do that?” Zachary asked.

  “Well, the first thing we need to do is talk about all this stuff you want to take to London with you.” He looked at the pile that included everything from toy soldiers to a rocking chair. “Did Aunt Bekah tell you that we have furniture in the London house?”

  “We do?” Zachary tilted his head.

  “Yes. So, perhaps we wouldn’t have to take the rocking chair with us.” The children gave a mumbled consent of agreement. “A lot of these things we can purchase in London, if you decide you really need them,” he hinted.

  “We can?” Ivy asked.

  “Of course, we can.” Thorn began picking up each item in the pile. It became a guessing game as to who put the item in the stack. By the time they had gone through every item, long shadows had begun fall across the room. “Damn,” Thorn muttered under his breath.

  “Uncle Thorn, you said a naughty word,” Ivy remonstrated.

  “Forgive me,” he bowed low to her after standing. “Why don’t you two go wake your aunt and tell her it is near supper. I have a meeting to attend.”

  “I want to go!” Zachary announced.

  “Me, too!” Ivy said.

  “You can’t go. You’re not the Duke of Wulfecrest,” Zachary told his sister, looking down his nose at her and sounding very imperious.

  “You can’t go, either, young man,” Thorn told Zachary. “This meeting has nothing to do with you or your estates.”

  “You can’t tell me no. I’m the Duke of Wulfecrest.”

  “Ivy, go to your aunt. The Duke of Wulfecrest and I have a few things that we need to discuss.”

  “Yes, Uncle Thorn,” the little girl slipped through the door, but not before sticking her tongue out at her little brother. Ever since Papa had died, he had been bossy, trying to tell her what she could and could not do. He had even been rude to Aunt Bekah as well. It served him right to get in trouble. She walked down the hall to her aunt’s room and lightly knocked on the door.

  “Go away,” she heard from the other side.

  Ivy grinned. Aunt Bekah always sounded grouchy when someone woke her up. Ivy twisted the doorknob and slipped into the room leaving the door open. She tiptoed across the room and climbed on the bed. “Aunt Bekah, wake up,” she singsonged as she lifted one of Rebekah’s eyelids.

  “Is it morning?” The woman asked the little girl.

  “No,” the little girl answered, then her stomach growled loudly.

  “Oh, it’s that time,” Rebekah rolled over on her back and stretched.

  “What happened to your arm?” Ivy asked, her little hands flew to her mouth.

  Rebekah looked at where the sleeve of her dress had ridden up her arm. A circle of bruises in the shape of fingers served as a bracelet above her elbow. “It’s nothing.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “It’s tender,” she answered, as she gently probed the area.

  �
�Let me kiss it!” Ivy exclaimed her blonde curls bouncing about her head.

  “Kiss what?” a deep voice asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Aunt Bekah’s hurt,” Ivy answered.

  “What happened?” Thorn asked as he crossed the room.

  “Nothing,” she repeated as she fought with her sleeve and tried to sit up at the same time. She failed in both areas. She tried to hide her reaction to the warm, callused fingers that grabbed her arm. When he touched her, she could feel her pulse quicken.

  “I apologize,” Thorn said, and brushed his lips over the bruises on the inside of her upper arm.

  Rebekah felt the tingle from his lips shoot up and down her arm. She pulled her arm free from his grip.

  “My turn!” Ivy said and placed a gentle kiss on the outside of her arm.

  “Don’t you want to help your aunt get well?” Thorn turned to look at the little boy who had entered the room behind him.

  Zachary started to answer with a petulant no, then thought better of it. He grudgingly crossed the room and gave his Aunt Rebekah a kiss. Papa had spanked him on many occasions, it had been his job. But Uncle Thorn was supposed to be fun and let him do all sorts of fun things, not spank him. He shot the man that stood across from him a glaring look.

  “Oh, sweetheart, it is all right,” Rebekah said, misunderstanding Zachary’s glassy eyes.

  “I believe he is more concerned with his own physical discomfort rather than your yours,” Thorn said.

  Rebekah watched the unspoken byplay between Zachary and his uncle. The boy was gingerly rubbing his bottom, and trying valiantly to keep tears from falling. She propped herself up and started to mouth a silent question to Thornton, but Ivy interrupted and answered her question.

  “I don’t want to kiss Zachary where he hurts,” she broke into giggles.

  “Young lady, if you tease your brother, you will be in the same predicament he finds himself in,” Thorn stopped the teasing immediately.

  “Yes, sir,” she mumbled, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Children, why don’t you go see if you can beg Cook to make you something to eat,” Thorn prodded. The children slipped from Rebekah’s bed and out the room.