“I could take my ex-mistress in your place,” he watched anger suffuse her. He acted as if he were carefully studying her. “Yes, it just might work. You favor enough that no one will question her. You haven’t been seen by anyone except your family, and she is greedy enough that with the right monetary offering she would be more than willing to do it. She would definitely enjoy making a fool of the ton. Most especially the Prince Regent’s stuffy younger brother and his wife.”
“You wouldn’t,” she hissed as she spun in the chair to look at him.
“I will do what I must,” he said.
“I despise you.”
“I am well aware of that. The first of the interviewees will arrive in an hour. If you choose to be present, you are more than welcome. If not, that is your decision, but remember, you will not be able to remove them without my approval.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” she replied sarcastically. She heard him retreat within the house. Rebekah sat there for several minutes attempting to gather herself back in control. To anyone looking at her, she seemed calm and enjoying the day. Inside she seethed. How dare he threaten to take his harlot to a society event? The mere thought of him going anywhere near the woman made her so incredibly angry. The thought of him having another woman, his mistress no less, pose as her caused her to want to do bodily harm to both him and the woman.
She called for a maid to watch the children, and she slipped upstairs to her bedchamber. Crossing the room to her desk, she quickly sat and composed a letter to Clarissa begging for her assistance. Once she completed the letter, she quickly checked on her appearance. Deciding she was presentable enough for the interviews she left her room after grabbing the letter. She made her way downstairs as she heard a knock on the door. The butler opened the door to an attractive young woman, dressed very tidily in dull, serviceable clothing. Rebekah felt an instant streak of jealousy shoot through her. She fought it down, refusing to allow jealousy force her to make a decision.
“Please see that this is delivered for me,” Rebekah held out the missive to the butler before following the possible nanny into the study and shutting the door. Thorn quickly made the introductions and then began the interview process. Rebekah was impressed at how he conducted the interview. He was matter-of-fact, asked pertinent questions, and did not spend his time ogling her. As if you would care if he did, she chided herself. Liar, she reprimanded herself in the next breath. She found that she cared much more than she should. Rebekah sat through three more interviews, interjecting questions occasionally, but for the most part content to allow him to do the questioning.
After the fourth candidate had left, this one a stern-looking older woman, Thorn stood and stretched his tall frame. Rebekah remained where she sat across from him.
“So what did you think of these candidates?” he asked Rebekah.
“Do you care?”
“Dammit, can’t we just work together?” He tunneled his fingers through his hair. “I’m tired of fighting you at every turn. Our siblings trusted us to raise their children. We can’t do that if we are constantly at one another’s throats like rabid animals.” He walked across the room and stared out the window. He could not keep the battles going on two fronts. At some point he would have to choose what battle mattered more, or he would be told which one did. If only he could get her to let down her defenses. Never before had he met such a stubborn woman.
“I liked the first one,” Rebekah said.
“Pardon?”
“The first one. I liked her the best.”
Finally, he thought. “Why did you like her?”
“She seemed to be the best of everything. She had some experience, she seemed to be kind, but she also seemed like she could be firm. I also like that she had some experience in healing herbs. Knowing our niece and nephew, it would be good knowledge to have.”
“I’m surprised. Pleasantly so, but still surprised.”
“Why?”
“I thought you would prefer the older lady.”
“She seemed much too sour. The twins need someone who knows how far to let them go before reeling them back in.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“For?”
“Giving me your honest opinion. Look, Rebekah, I know you don’t have much faith in me, but I do care about you and the children. I will do everything in my power to protect you and see that you have whatever you need. You just need to know that all is not always as it appears.”
“I have sent a message around to Clarissa asking for her help in choosing a wardrobe.”
“Excellent,” he said. Somewhere down the hall the chiming of a clock sounded. “I must go to the club.” Thorn crossed the room and held out his hand to her. He felt a tingle start in his hand and run up his arm when she placed her hand in his. He pulled her up into his arms. Wulfe held her against him with one arm and cupped her right cheek tilting her head back just slightly. “Why do we have to fight? Why do you hate me so much?”
She shook her head in the negative.
“Does that mean you don’t hate me as much as you want to, or you can’t tell me?”
“Perhaps both,” she said a bit breathlessly. She watched as he leaned into her and brushed her lips with his. Rebekah found herself responding and enjoying his touch and caress. Her hand ran up his arm and stopped at his bicep, squeezing. She stepped closer to him, and he cupped her face with both hands, deepening the kiss.
“Aunt Bekah, we’re hungry!” two little voices shouted before pushing open the not quite shut door and entering the study. The two adults sprang apart as if guilty of something.
“I’m sure Cook has something ready for you two. Shall we go see?” she asked her niece and nephew. They nodded enthusiastically, each grabbing a hand and steering her out of the room. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the impish grin on Wulfe’s face. It sent a little shimmer up her spine.
***
The next morning they interviewed the last batch of candidates. They had narrowed eight down to two. Deciding they would further discuss it later this afternoon, they both went their separate ways having things that needed to be taken care of. Before they parted, Rebekah found herself wrapped in his arms once more.
Wulfe inhaled deeply and smelled mint. Every time he smelled it, it reminded him of Rebekah and something else. There was some elusive memory that played with him, but when he tried to bring it to the forefront, it retreated once more. He enjoyed having her in his arms. He wanted her to warm his bed, but he knew he had to take small steps. She acted like a skittish horse at times. He often wondered what happened to her to make her act that way. Thorn felt her pulling away from him. He had held her too long.
“I have to get ready. Clarissa will be here soon.”
“Yes,” he said straightening. “Pick the most beautiful ball dress they have,” he instructed before kissing her once more.
Feeling somewhat shocked at his words, she left the room with a bemused look on her face.
***
Clarissa came around in her town coach and picked Rebekah up. Rebekah felt somewhat awkward at first, and then Clarissa began animatedly chatting. She put just the right amount of sympathy on poor Ivy’s broken arm, but also could not keep a giggle at bay. “Can you just imagine how much fun it must be to slide down the banister? It must feel like you’re flying!” She paused a moment and considered her words. “Goodness, I must talk to Justin about doing something to ours. It has the most marvelous curve at the end. I can just see our little scamp climbing up on the rail and sailing off the end. Yes, first thing when I arrive home. Now, tell me what are we looking for.”
“We have a ball to attend tomorrow night.”
“Oh, yes. The Duke and Duchess of Richmond throw quite extravagant balls. It will be difficult to find a ball gown at this late notice, but with the right amount of persuasion anything is possible. What else?”
“What do you mean?” Rebekah asked startled.
“
Let us be honest with one another, shall we? Your husband sent a note around to me as well. He said you were to have an entire wardrobe.”
“How dare he! I need no such thing!”
“Rebekah,” Clarissa reached across the the carriage and gripped Rebekah’s hands tightly in her own, “he cares about you.”
“He cares about his own image.”
“I doubt that. If he did, he wouldn’t be involved in the business he is, and he definitely would not allow women to frequent it.”
“He what?!”
“The point, dear cousin, is that he wants you to be able to go out and be seen with confidence. He doesn’t want you to be mocked behind your back.”
“We should be in mourning. We should be wearing black and not attending any functions, and he won’t let that happen. Yet he doesn’t want people to mock me?” she asked
“Bekah, there are things that you don’t understand about your husband and the people around him.”
“But you seem to know.” Clarissa actually blushed. “Tell me,” Rebekah begged. “If it is so very important, shouldn’t I know?”
“I am sure he will tell you when you need to know.”
“I do not need to know, I have a right to know, Clarissa. I am his wife though it was not my choice. We have been chosen as parents of two precious children. At least tell me if he is involved in something dangerous.” Rebekah watched Clarissa. The other woman said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes. “He brought us to London knowing it would put us in peril.”
“Rebekah, you must know that whatever he has done it has been for the good of you and the children. These times we live in are dangerous. Enemies lie around every corner, sometimes they are in your own family. Trust is a hard thing to have in people thanks to Bonaparte, but you must have faith in Lord Wulfe.”
“Clarissa, you forget, I lost my faith in Thorn years ago.”
“You forget, you were also responsible. Do not give me that look. I am older, married, and know what goes into a relationship. You never had that with him, and what you did have, well, both of you are to blame in my humble opinion.”
“I thought you were my friend.”
“Which is why I am saying this, and Gertie agrees. You have to tell him. Together you must face the past. If you do not, he is always going to wonder why you treat him so callously, and you are going to grow old being bitter and alone. Those two children you are responsible for will grow up and move on. Wulfe will tire of trying to turn you in his favor and find someone else. Tell me, Rebekah, do you want that?”
Conveniently the carriage came to a halt in front of a dress shop. “I believe we are here, are we not?” Rebekah said, grateful when a footman opened the carriage door, effectively ending the conversation.
Rebekah and Clarissa were shown to a private room and were catered to by the owner as well as several helpers. Clarissa had evidently written Thorn which establishments they would be visiting today and he had already set up accounts in her name. She warred with herself being appreciative at his thoughtfulness, but then part of her felt anger that he did not trust her to take care of it herself. Clarissa and Gertie were right. This constant simmering anger she felt was eating her alive and turning her into someone she did not like. Before he had come back into her life, she had been, well not ecstatically happy, but content. Now a darkness was her constant companion that even the twins could not completely eradicate. Then there was the passion he could ignite within her at his mere closeness.
“Rebekah, what do you think of this gown? Rebekah!” Clarissa called.
Rebekah brought herself back to the task at hand. How many new gowns had she agreed to while she was lost in thought? “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“What do you think about this gown for the ball tomorrow?”
Rebekah looked at the gown the modiste’s assistants held up. The sapphire blue silk was breathtaking and the crystal beadwork caught the light and made it shimmer. “It is gorgeous,” she said in awe, “but it is too much.” She shook her head as if she would deny taking ownership of it.
“Psh,” Clarissa waved her hand in dismissal. “Go try it on.”
Rebekah found herself being led behind a pair of curtains and helped out of her current dress into the new one. When she walked back into the front room Clarissa clapped her hands in excitement.
“You are absolutely gorgeous!”
Rebekah looked into a large mirror and found herself speechless. Even without her hair done appropriately, the woman that looked back at her looked to be a stranger. The woman in the mirror looked older and more beautiful than Rebekah. Could all that be accomplished with just one dress?
“With the correct dress, oui,” the modiste said.
Rebekah looked at the other woman in shock, not realizing she had spoken out loud. She turned back to study herself in the mirror ignoring the attendants as they whispered frantically in the modiste’s ear gesticulating at Rebekah.
“Oui, oui, it will be taken care of ,” she said.
“What will?” Rebekah asked curiously feeling as if she were the center of the conversation without having said anything.
“Nothing for you to worry about. Now let me see what needs to be done to this dress.”
“Whose dress is this? I cannot take it from someone else.”
“The woman who was to have it just recently had a child and has no use for the dress anymore. By the time she will be back in society, the style will have changed and this will no longer be the fashion.”
“If you are certain.”
“I would not have offered it otherwise, madame.”
“Very well.” Rebekah stood very still as the older woman placed pins in the dress here and there. After taking the dress off and being put back into her old clothes, she felt plain. Why did it feel so depressing when she had lived with plain every day of her life? She joined Clarissa once more and politely waited as her cousin finished her conversation with the modiste.
“Are you ready?” Clarissa asked.
“I am so very ready to go home,” Rebekah agreed.
Clarissa merely laughed. “Oh, no, we are not for home yet, dear girl. We still must go to the cobbler’s and the milliner’s.”
“No more, please,” Rebekah begged.
“Oh, there is definitely more,” Clarissa laughed and guided her out of the store and into the carriage. The cobbler took the measurements of her foot and agreed to have slippers made in every color fabric that the modiste sent over. She would also have several serviceable pairs of shoes and riding boots. Next, they were off to the haberdashery. Never one to spend her time sitting and embroidering, Rebekah decided they must have stopped for Clarissa. Instead she found herself in awe when Clarissa asked for a length of ribbon in almost every color.
“What are all those ribbons for?” Rebekah asked curiously.
“Your hair. It adds just the right bit of color and having one of every color makes it ever so much easier to match to your dress once you are home.”
Upon leaving with their package, they walked next door to the milliner. They were studying and discussing the various hats when a bell rang over the door. A woman entered the shop wearing a hat with a veil that covered half her face making her appear very mysterious. Rebekah and Clarissa continued to look around the shop, discuss the different hats and try them on, sometimes giggling like schoolgirls. Several other women were also shopping in the store.
“Lady Wulfe, I found this tucked away in the back and thought it would be just perfect for you,” the shop owner came out of the back offering a hat to Rebekah.
Rebekah tried to keep from laughing at the garish concoction the woman tried to pass off as a hat. She gingerly took it from the lady and moved to the mirror and began to adjust it on her head.
“You are Lady Wulfe?” the new woman that had entered the shop asked curiously.
“Yes,” Rebekah smiled at the woman in the mirror. “And you are?” she asked curiously.
“Shocked,” the other woman said.
“And why would that be?” Rebekah asked, feeling herself tense. Something about this woman was definitely off-putting. She took the hat off, handed it back to the owner, and turned to face the other woman. Rebekah watched as the other woman flipped the veil up to uncover her face, allowing both women the opportunity to better study one another. Was it just her imagination or did they eerily favor one another? Her eyes were amber in color, and her hair a deep auburn. Could it be possible that everyone had a twin somewhere? Would hers be as close as London?
“I just find it rather shocking that Thorn chose you.”
“Pardon?”
“Rebekah, I believe we should leave,” Clarissa said, pulling her towards the door.
“No,” she broke free of her cousin’s hold. “I will hear what she has to say.”
“Perhaps a private location would be better.”
“I have nothing to fear from this woman.”
“Of course not. I have no desire to harm you. I just find it shocking that he would choose a plain miss like you over me.”
“And just who are you?”
“I am Aimée Beauchamp, your husband’s former mistress,” she said, a beautifully alluring smirk lighting her face.
“I wish I could say it is a pleasure, but I find telling lies leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth,” Rebekah said before turning to Clarissa. “I thought you said this shop was exclusive, but it seems they will cater to anyone. Shall we?” She held out her arm for the other woman to hook with hers. Together they exited the shop. Once they entered the carriage and it began moving Clarissa erupted into giggles. “What do you find to be so funny?” Rebekah demanded.
“Oh, I wish I had your gumption. That was wonderfully done, and I can’t tell you how many women of the ton would like to do much the same thing. I believe you are going to do extremely well.”
“I can’t believe I did that,” Rebekah said as realization hit her.
“She deserved it. Imagine, confronting you like that in public.”
Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) Page 14
