Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents)

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “Yes, sir. I think it best you not know what we did, just so’s that you know we saved the horses. Otherwise, the team would have been pulled down the ravine as well.”

  “Thank you, Sam.”

  “How’s the mistress?”

  “She keeps losing consciousness. She hit her head pretty hard.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I tried my best,” the driver said.

  “I know you did. I need you men to come with me,” he waved them to follow him as he turned and picked his way down the ravine. When he reached the river, he waded into water up to his knees. With the help of the footmen and the drivers, they were able to right the carriage. Thorn walked around the conveyance, eyeing it carefully. The wheels on one side of it caught his attention. He knelt in the shallow water to take a better look. Several of the spokes on each wheel had a smooth cut more than halfway through, then it was rough where it had splintered the last little bit. “Henry,” he called their driver over.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When we stopped at the inn, did anyone besides one of our attendants get anywhere near the carriage?”

  “Not that I recall, sir. What seems to be amiss?”

  Thorn stood and waved Henry to take a look at the wheels. “Tell me what you see.” He waited while the man inspected both wheels. “Well?” he prodded when he could not wait any longer.

  “Why would someone do this?” Henry asked.

  “So, you’re seeing the same thing I am,” Thorn half asked, half stated.

  “Yes, sir. Who’d want to do this?”

  Thorn merely shook his head, easily making a list of almost two dozen people who would want to see him dead. Most had been fleeced at the Lady Luck. He made certain no one knew about his other life, or had he?

  “Uncle Thorn, Aunt Bekah’s waking up!” Zachary shouted from the top of the ravine.

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” he called back. He watched the little boy wave before running back to Rebekah and Ivy. He turned to the men. “We need to try to get this out of here. One of you take one of the horses and go back to the village we left. See if you can hire some help.”

  “I’ll do that,” Henry said before climbing to the top of the ravine.

  Thorn turned and opened the carriage door. He found most of the items that had been in the basket had been strewn across the inside of the carriage. He pulled the basket close and found a jar still intact with some sort of food inside. After upending the contents on the ground, he stalked over to the river and rinsed the jar out several times before filling it up with cool water. He climbed back up the ravine and saw that Rebekah now sat up, but held her head in her hands. The children were talking and giggling, recounting the events of the carriage flipping, and the dogs were barking. The maid kept raising her voice to be heard over all the noise. Thorn smirked and decided that perhaps he should save his wife from a fate worse than death.

  “Ivy, Zach, why don’t you take the dogs to play over there in the clearing. Don’t run off though.”

  “Yes, Uncle Thorn,” Zachary said, then he grabbed Ivy’s hand and dragged her away from her aunt.

  “Why don’t you go see that they don’t run off,” he said to the maid.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he heard Rebekah whisper.

  “For?”

  “Making the noise go away, or at least lessen.”

  “My pleasure. Here, take a sip of this,” he held out the glass to her. He watched her take a sip of the clear water, and smiled at the little moan she let escape. “Better?”

  She started to nod, but thought better of it when her head began to pound crazily. She put a hand to her temple and tried to open her eyes, but when she saw two Thorns swimming in front of her, she thought better of it, and closed them once more. “What happened?”

  “One of the wheels broke,” he said, evading the truth. “The carriage rolled down a ravine. You seem to have suffered the worst.” He looked at the sky and the sun that had begun to set. “We need to make a decision. Either we go back to the village we left or we push on to London.”

  “How much further to London?” she asked.

  “An hour, perhaps two.”

  “I would rather push on to London. I want the children settled and not have to see to them in an inn.”

  “Would it be easier to ride horseback with me? Less jostling that way.” He saw the look on her face. He knew she was fighting with herself trying to decide which would be the lesser of two evils. Finally, she lifted her free hand towards him.

  “You win. I don’t think I would make it five minutes with the coach swaying, the dogs barking, and the twins talking non-stop. Just thinking about it is making my stomach churn.”

  “All right. Stay here while I gather everyone together.”

  She waved him away and moved to lie on her stomach, resting her head on her arms. She felt the blanket being tugged over her once more and let herself drift off, hoping the pain would go away.

  Thorn gathered up children, dogs, and servants as if he had been doing it his entire life. Just as he was about to wake Rebekah, one of the footmen rushed up to him.

  “Sir, one of the men is missing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The new footman. I don’t know exactly when he disappeared, but he’s gone.”

  Thorn looked out among the trees and hills. His overcoat hung open, billowing out where his hands lay fisted on his hips. “What did he look like?”

  “I couldn’t say, sir. Kept to himself. I just noticed when I was doing the headcount. We were missing two, the driver and the new man.”

  “Do you recall anything at all about him? Anything will help.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he said, disappointed. “Let’s get going.”

  “We aren’t going to look for him?”

  “I believe he is far away and doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Thorn walked to Rebekah. “Rebekah, it’s time we left.” He pulled the top blanket from her and threw it over his shoulder. He heard her cry out when she started to push herself up. “Forgot about your wrist, did you?” he asked before helping her stand. She moaned when he put his arm around her. “You must be black and blue under that dress.”

  “And as I said before, it will not be the first time. Let’s just go.”

  He felt her body stiffen and a change in her demeanor after the exchange. Once he had her in the saddle in front of him and the blanket wrapped around her, the group continued on to their destination. They were thirty minutes down the road before she finally relaxed against him. Once again that feeling of déjà vu swept over him. What spooked him the most was how right she felt in his arms. He had never experience that before with any other woman. Aimée was just someone he could slake his lust with. That’s all women had ever been to him. Why her? Why now?

  “Why do I feel like I’ve had you in my arms before?” he asked the question aloud. She immediately stiffened.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  “Really?” he queried, picking up on her agitation.

  “I think you need to focus on the road.”

  “‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’” he quoted from Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

  “You think so? If I am, tell me where it happened. Can you do that?” There was a pregnant pause. “That’s what I thought. Now, can we stop talking?”

  “Whatever you wish,” Thorn said. The couple shared not one word the remainder of the trip to London.

  Chapter 7

  The twins were settled in their new rooms, and Rebekah escaped into hers as soon as they had drifted off to sleep. She had passed a maid and several footmen leaving her room as she entered and saw their efforts in front of the cheery fire. Although it was the middle of summer, a cold front had moved in the last part of their journey, bringing with it a cold rain and leaving her even more miserable. She studied the lock on the
door for a long while, thinking about the twins in the nursery. What if they woke during the middle of the night? Then her thoughts drifted to Thorn, her husband, who was somewhere in this house. She locked the door.

  Rebekah turned and began stripping out of her sodden clothes. She left a trail of clothes to the bath before crawling into the steaming water. Rebekah inspected her body and saw grotesque purple and blue bruises developing on her left side. She lowered her hands to her flat stomach, remembering that other time. She forcefully lifted her hands and watched as the water dripped from her fingertips, before tightly gripping the lip of the bath. Rebekah forced the memories away, refusing to let them encroach.

  Why had Thorn asked her about being in his arms? She shivered wondering if he had begun to remember. “No,” she said aloud.

  “No, what?”

  Rebekah sat upright, sloshing water all over the floor. She grabbed a towel off a low stool near the bathtub and draped it across her breasts and brought her knees in close to her body. “How did you get in here?”

  He nodded to a door on a wall perpendicular to the hall wall and the door she had locked. “You forgot the connecting door.”

  “Get out,” she growled.

  “Not before I check that knot on your head.”

  “My head is fine.”

  “I’ll be the one to judge that.” He strode the rest of the way across the room.

  “Stay away from me, or I’ll scream.”

  “No, you won’t. And you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

  “Not mine, you haven’t.”

  “Lean forward,” he instructed, ignoring her. He met her glare and held it until she relented and did as he said.

  “I despise you.”

  “Hmph. You have a lot of bruises.”

  “Do you think I can’t feel them and see them?” she asked incredulously. “That hurts,” she snapped as he prodded her tender head.

  “The bump seems not to have gotten any larger.” He pulled his hand away. “It is still bleeding a bit. Be careful if you decide to wash your hair.”

  “Quit telling me what to do,” Rebekah demanded.

  Thorn leaned over her, bracing himself on either side of the bath, effectively trapping her. “I am not telling you what to do. It was merely a suggestion.” They stared at each other long and hard. He started to pull away when he saw the mangled scars on her back. “Who did this to you?”

  “Go to Hell,” she whispered, jerking out from under his probing fingers.

  “Such language to be the daughter of a pastor,” he tsked. He watched as the color leeched from her face. If possible, she shrunk further away from him. “Hey, I was only teasing. Don’t look like that,” he coaxed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Don’t touch me,” she whispered menacingly.

  He pushed up and away, holding his hands out in front of him. “Calm down.” He took several steps back. “This isn’t the last of this discussion. I’m going to the Lady Luck. If you should need anything, send word.”

  “Are you going to see your mistress while you’re there?”

  “That usually isn’t something a wife and husband discuss.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The twins and I don’t need you.”

  “Don’t pull them into this war between us. They don’t deserve it. Whatever you and I feel for each other, I love those children and will do everything in my power to protect them.”

  “Too bad that wasn’t always true.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Just leave. Go to your gaming hell and your harlot.”

  “Good night, wife.”

  She watched him stalk across her room and shut the connecting door with barely concealed fury. Rebekah felt anger still pulsing through her veins after their argument. She looked at the sodden bath sheet and slapped her hands against the surface of the water, splashing herself and the floor. Angry at herself for allowing him to rile her, she roughly scrubbed her body, punishing herself in the only way she knew. The physical pain was cathartic and kept the tears at bay. After carefully washing her hair, she stood in the tub and let the water rush off her body in a waterfall. She twisted her brown hair until it quit dripping water then stepped out onto the wet floor.

  Rebekah flinched as she heard a thud from the connecting room, but she refused to check on Thorn. She walked next to her bed and rang the bell pull before dragging on a robe. Rebekah crossed the room to the door and unlocked it to await the maid. She only waited for a few minutes when a petite, young woman arrived.

  “May I help you, Lady Wulfe?”

  “Yes, I believe I made a bit of a mess while bathing.” She waved to the floor behind her.

  “Oh,” the young maid’s eyes widened. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” The maid returned shortly and handed Rebekah a couple of the bath sheets before taking the rest to the bathing area to mop up the water on the floor.

  Rebekah moved automatically, going through the process of drying her hair and changing into her modest nightgown. At some point, the cold rain had become a thunderstorm. Just as she was crawling into her bed for the night, she heard the faint sound of whimpering that sounded suspiciously like Ivy. When she opened her door, she saw the little girl standing on the stairs above, looking lost. She clutched a doll in one arm and one of the pups stood next to her. She had her fingers threaded through the pup’s fur. When the little girl saw her aunt step into the hallway, she ran toward her.

  “Oh, Sweetheart, did the thunder scare you?” Rebekah asked going down on one knee. She watched her niece nod. “Come on, then.” She held out her hand to her. They had crossed the threshold into her room when she heard the snick of a door. Zachary peeked his head over the rail above. “Did the thunder wake you, too?”

  “No,” he said, before jumping at a loud clap of thunder that shook the floor and walls. The trinkets rattled on the tables

  “Come on,” she nodded in the direction of her room. The twins raced each other and jumped onto the bed. The dogs followed. “Down,” she instructed, pointing to the floor as she shut the door. Whining, the dogs jumped off the bed. After some situating, they were tucked in for the night, Rebekah with a child on each side. The storm continued on and just as she began to drift off, she yelped before realizing the dogs had jumped back up on the bed. They each circled several times, before settling with a snuffle at her feet. Deciding it was too much effort to force them to get down and stay down, she finally fell asleep.

  ***

  Thorn had a footman hail a hack for him as he changed clothes. Anger still shimmered under the surface after his and Rebekah’s exchange. He gave a sigh of relief when he pulled on a pair of fresh Hessians. He picked up one of his old boots and fingered the leather.

  “They’re ruined,” he announced to the room at large. “Just like my life.” He threw the Hessian he held in his hand against the door that connected his room to his wife’s, relishing the thud that sounded. His wife. The reality was still foreign to him. If his brother were alive today, he would pummel him. “What the bloody hell had he been thinking?” he spoke the words aloud, needing to hear them. Teddy had known what he was involved in. He stood and turned slowly, studying the room. This room belongs to the Duke of Wulfcrest, he thought, which I am not, and never will be, he fervently hoped.

  As he left his room, he stopped a maid in the hall. “Please have my clothes moved to another room first thing tomorrow.”

  “Are you not pleased with your room, sir?”

  “It’s not that. It belongs to the Duke of Wulfcrest. I am merely his uncle.”

  “I understand, sir. Should I move Lady Wulfe’s as well?”

  “Yes,” he said, thinking of the words they had just exchanged. He did not care if she was really there whenever he finally arrived home, but just the inconvenience would be satisfying. “Make certain our things are placed in the same room.”

  “Yes, sir,” the young maid said, blushing, be
fore turning away and moving down the hallway.

  He maneuvered down the staircase to be greeted at the door by the butler.

  “Should someone stay up to await you, sir?” the older man asked while handing Thorn his gloves, hat, and cane.

  “No, Grigsby. I have business to catch up on and don’t know when I shall be back.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Grigsby,” Thorn said as a thought occurred to him.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “See that the stable lads and the footmen rotate throughout the night.”

  “Expecting trouble, sir?”

  “I just don’t want to take any chances.”

  “I agree, sir. The children are precious, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are. Goodnight, Grigsby.”

  “Goodnight, sir.”

  A footman held open the door to the hack. Wulfe climbed in, settled himself, and called out directions to the driver. Once the footman shut the door, the hack lurched into motion. Wulfe enjoyed the country, but it felt good to be back in London. He wondered what Glandingham had done to the Lady Luck since he had been away. He also wondered if Glandingham had been behind the cut spokes on the carriage. The man was as slippery as an eel, but he had all the right connections. He would just need to keep his eye on him and make certain the man did what they wanted and needed him to do.

  The hack stopped in front of the Lady Luck, and Thorn disembarked just as lightning lit up the sky and thunder filled it. Raucous noise filtered through the door, greeting him as well. With it being mid summer, London was teeming with people who were in town for the season. He paid the driver and spun his cane as he proceeded to the door. He walked into his gaming hell and stood as if in a stupor. Not only were there men, but there were also women. Women who were dressed in daringly cut dresses. Women who were dressed in wetted dresses that showed more of their bodies than any man should see. He felt his blood boiling. He had come here this evening to relieve his stress, not add to it. After spying Glandingham in the back right corner, he made his way to him.

  “In my office, now,” he snarled and kept walking. He did not even turn to look to see if the older man followed him. He stood at the door of his office and held it open for the portly earl. “Leave us,” he growled at the man who acted as Glandingham’s shadow.