‘Oh, I don’t know; you’re not very interesting in your own right at the moment, are you?’ she said with a contemptuous glance at his wildly disordered sable hair and unshaven chin.
‘No, but I was the bastard I thought I was last night and today I’m only one in spirit,’ he said.
‘I’m sure you’re too hard on yourself.’
‘Oh, go away,’ he told her as if her company was suddenly too much to endure. Yet she caught sight of his reluctant half-smile when he turned away from her with a gesture of pretend revulsion. ‘If I wanted my ears assaulted by the opinions of strangers, I could open the front door and hear them in droves.’
‘I’m not a stranger.’
‘By the opinions of a lady I happen to have met before and who refuses to mind her own business and leave me be when I beg her to, then,’ he corrected himself with exaggerated patience and almost a grin of complicity, but she wasn’t ready to be complicit or meekly go away as he bid.
‘A lady who won’t let you ignore and slight her because you’re not who you thought you were and I won’t be making any more furtive assignations with you so you can pretend I’m virtually a stranger when you happen to meet me in company, Mr Wulf Whoever-you-want-to-call-yourself-now. And if you ever kiss me again, you can do it in daylight with half the world looking on or not bother because I’m done with hiding in dark corners with you, whatever name you settle on,’ she told him brusquely and turned on her heel to leave because this seemed like a good place to start.
It would give him something to think about other than his obnoxious father and she was tired of hiding in corners. If he felt anything real for her, he could follow her into the light and prove it to both of them. She couldn’t stop herself looking back when she reached the door to the kitchens, where Gregory was stoically waiting for her. Wulf’s eyes were blank with shock after her reference to their trysts in front of Magnus, so at least her ultimatum had given his thoughts a new turn.
She finally noticed Lady Carrowe and her younger daughters looking on with eager attention when she wrenched her gaze from him long enough to see them on the last half-landing. She’d been so engrossed in how Wulf felt about her she hadn’t even noticed them creep downstairs. At least she didn’t need to explain the situation to his family next time they met and she refused to let him pretend he hardly knew her. She nodded to say she meant every word and didn’t care if they knew about those kisses because she refused to be ashamed. Even so she hoped they weren’t too shocked and knew she considered them true friends whatever happened from now on.
‘I wish you all a good morning,’ she said and swept out because there were times when there really wasn’t anything else to say and this felt like one of them.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Well, that’s certainly told you, Wulf,’ Magnus said with the once-familiar careless grin he ought to be pleased to see back on his brother’s face, Wulf realised rather numbly.
‘Don’t you think you should go after her?’ Aline put in as she seemed to snap out of the trance she’d gone into after hearing Isabella’s impossible invitation to kiss her in front of them all or leave her alone in future.
‘And do what?’ he said wearily.
‘Well, kiss her again, I suppose.’
‘I thought you didn’t approve of such mawkish nonsense.’
‘I don’t, but I suppose you two must enjoy it, since it sounds as if you’ve been doing it quite a lot,’ Aline said with a puzzled shake of the head as if she couldn’t quite imagine how anyone could, but each to their own.
‘She had no business telling anyone,’ Wulf managed with a defensive frown and wished everyone would go away until he’d got over the self-inflicted pain beating in his head like a war drum now she was gone and he was in no fit state to run after her. He’d probably be arrested for bothering a lady in his present state and he still wasn’t sure he was as ready to throw caution to the winds as she thought he ought to be. After all, his caution was for her, wasn’t it? He might be the Honourable Wulfric Haile now, but he felt like a shabby sort of a gentleman and he still couldn’t offer her much more than himself. What sort of prize was he for a beautiful, clever lady of character like Isabella?
‘It sounds as if Isabella had every right to drag whatever you’ve been up to out into the light, my son,’ his mother told him severely and Wulf groaned and put a hand to his aching forehead and rubbed as if that might make it all go away—as if anything could now Isabella had made that reckless, ruthless and ridiculously brave ultimatum in front of them all.
‘Fresh air is what you need most right now, Little Brother,’ Magnus told him sagely. ‘Well, that and a shave. Oh, and probably a bath as well because you might as well begin clean and tidy. After all that I know just the place where you can hire a fast horse and you’ll get as much fresh air as you can handle on the road to chase away that headache,’ he added helpfully and grinned despite Wulf’s best frown to tell him what he thought of his misplaced humour.
Dorrie exchanged a puzzled look with her twin. Theo mouthed something at her and she gasped, then nodded as if she was fool not to have got the meaning of Magnus’s ridiculous insinuation straight away. ‘Oh, yes, Derbyshire; of course,’ she said wisely and as if that clinched things. He wasn’t going to gallop all the way to Wychwood on a wild goose chase when the Earl of Carnwood was likely to set the dogs on him when he got there, third son of an earl or not.
‘I’m going home,’ Wulf said dourly, then stamped out the back way because he didn’t care what his family or Isabella said about the value of openness, he wasn’t risking the front one in this state. He might hit somebody if they got in his way and that would never do, now would it? ‘And there’s plenty of fresh air to be had at my house on the Heath, thank you very much, loving family of mine,’ he muttered under his breath as he slipped through back alleys in Isabella’s wake. ‘Women!’ he confided in a startled groom from the next-door mews, then stamped off into bustling, busy London to walk off some of his temper and most of his headache and try very hard not to think about anything at all.
* * *
‘Gres! Well, I never. We thought you’d quite forgotten the way to London,’ his next brother-in-line greeted the new Earl of Carrowe not very enthusiastically as soon as he’d managed to shoulder his way past the crowd of still-hopeful onlookers outside Carrowe House a few days after his father’s startling announcement from beyond the grave that Wulf was his get after all.
‘I tried to, Magnus; believe me, I tried,’ Gresley said wearily as soon as he was safe inside the house and out of earshot of those interested spectators.
‘I wager he’s actually telling the truth, for once,’ Wulf muttered from where he stood in the shadiest corner of the hall, watching the family reunion with a cynical eye.
In a way it was his fault his family were still being besieged by the curious, so it felt like his duty to pretend to work here instead of at home today and take his turn at keeping the curious at bay. It wasn’t as if he’d got much done since the latest set of bombshells blew his life apart, so no matter if Gresley’s arrival shot any chance of concentrating on the article he was supposed to be writing out of the water.
His mother shook her head reproachfully as she picked up on his cynical comment. She had been doing that a lot since Isabella made her startling statement, then marched out of the house to leave him to deal with his family’s feelings as well as his own. With a last look to say If you can’t be pleasant, be quiet, Lady Carrowe stepped forward to receive her eldest son’s dutiful kiss on the cheek. ‘You should have sent word you were coming, my dear, so we could put on a better welcome,’ she rebuked and hugged Gresley before stepping back to survey his travel-worn appearance with a frown.
‘This house would have to be knocked down and rebuilt before there’s much of a one to be had here,’ he responded gloomily.
Most of his fami
ly had had to endure all this dust and decay day in and day out, so why couldn’t Gresley hear how crass that comment sounded? He lacked the imagination to put himself in someone else’s shoes, Wulf decided and perhaps that was the real reason he seemed most like his father out of all of them. How odd to be one of seven instead of one of one and Wulf wasn’t sure how he was going to like being Gresley and Mary’s little brother.
‘It is a wreck, isn’t it? And quite beyond repair, even if you actually wanted to repair it,’ Aline said almost triumphantly, gazing around the dusty and worn marble hall with affection. ‘Thank goodness the state of it usually keeps the ton at bay without us even having to try very hard to fend them off and it would have been good to have some help with that, by the way.’
‘I was busy,’ Gresley blustered.
‘You said that when we begged you to come here to deal with the coroner and magistrates and lawyers,’ Aline challenged impatiently.
Wulf stayed silent so he wouldn’t rage uselessly at his eldest brother because Gresley was so like his father it was almost uncanny. Later, when Gresley was rested and fed after his journey, they would have to discuss Wulf’s dealings with the magistrates and constables, but there wasn’t a great deal to tell. Even Sir Hugh Kenton hadn’t been able to find a clue to who the murderer was or how he got into this leaky old house and out again without being seen by a living soul. Carrowe House, with only two elderly servants and so many rotten old rooms even the family had forgotten about, was the ideal place to slip into, murder a man who expected his family to respect his privacy at all times, then slip out again without being noticed. How anyone wasn’t noticed wandering about this great city covered in blood was beyond Wulf, but there was no trail of it to give them a direction to look in. Had the man been devilishly lucky or simply devilish? Best not add the supernatural to the list of things to worry about when there was quite enough on it to keep him awake at nights already. Wulf thought there must have been more than one person with the Earl when he died—one to murder him in what looked very like hot blood and the other cool enough to make sure they didn’t leave a trail for anyone to follow. Sir Hugh had told him to keep that idea to himself because the less the villains knew about their ideas for catching them the better.
Wulf was glad he’d persuaded the Caudles to move in and paid a couple of heavies to watch the place from the outside every night. He resolved to hammer shut another set of doors and windows to keep his mother and sisters doubly safe for however much longer they insisted on staying here. He had already made an inner core of rooms as secure as possible without rebuilding the place from the ground up. It was locking the stable door after the horse bolted, he admitted to himself, but the very thought of whoever killed the Earl coming back kept him awake at nights even when this endless longing for Isabella in his bed didn’t. The villain could have murdered them all or done other unthinkable things without anyone outside the house hearing a thing. His own wild ride to Herefordshire on a wasted errand left only Gus between their mother and sisters and a murderer. Wulf shuddered at the idea of his brother confronting a desperate man when he was in such a weakened state after his illness. He was furious with himself for being more than a hundred miles away when they needed him most, so how could Gresley leave them to face the world without him when their father was murdered here? He was supposed to be the head of the family, for goodness’ sake.
‘Fell off my horse,’ Gresley finally admitted sheepishly, as if owning up to that was worse than patricide. ‘Sprained my ankle and looked like the loser in a prize fight for a fortnight.’
‘You didn’t want to come here and help Mama cope with our father’s death and all that followed because you looked a little the worse for wear?’
‘No, Magnus, I didn’t. I didn’t want to now, but Connie insisted. Well, at least she and her father and the grandees from the Home Office did. Connie says I can’t ignore what amounts to a royal order to come here and sort things out and I had to admit she was right to get any peace at all.’
‘A royal order?’ Lady Carrowe asked in a hollow voice.
‘Yes, apparently the fuss caused by that nonsensical letter the Earl left behind him was the final straw for the King. He can’t intervene openly for fear of stirring up even more public outrage against him. The Earl was one of his friends and the least said about that the soonest mended, so the King’s cronies sent a messenger to tell me that while they are ready to write Papa’s murder off as an unlucky encounter with a burglar, they can’t close their eyes to his tangled private affairs any longer and insist on knowing the truth of his untimely ending. They sent for some bloodhound the Crown employs to deal with matters they want sorted out discreetly, then quietly lost as only the Home Office can lose things. First they’ve got to find him, however, as they carelessly sent him abroad on another matter. In the meantime I have to take an interest in this old wreck of a house and say bland and soothing things to calm everyone’s nerves.’
‘Oh, dear. Well, never mind, we’ll soon be off to Hampstead and you can hardly be expected to stay here on your own,’ Lady Carrowe said soothingly.
Wulf marvelled how skewed things were when his mother thought that would make Gresley feel better. Since he was looking resentful and defensive and troubled all at the same time, someone had clearly put the fear of God into him. Wulf secretly admired the forcefulness of whoever made Gresley face reality, and if this hunter they set such store by was half as good at his job, the murderer had better watch his step.
‘The King is worried his reputation might suffer because Father was a friend of his? As if he could be more unpopular if he’d set out to make his people hate him,’ Aline said scornfully.
Wulf nodded, although he shouldn’t encourage her to be so outspoken. Aline might yet find a man brave or reckless enough to marry her, but she’d have to mind her tongue if her hero wasn’t to run away screaming.
‘It took royal intervention to get you here?’ Magnus prompted, very likely to stop Gresley scolding Aline and set off a furious argument.
‘Revolution,’ Gresley added sagely. ‘The King is afraid of the mob.’
‘I can’t see why our private disasters would stir them up,’ Wulf said as he stepped out of the shadows as his true self for the first time.
‘It’s not private, though, is it? The old fool made a sensation of us all with that notice on top of everything else.’ Gresley refused to meet his eyes, but the fact he’d replied was an admission Wulf had a right to take part in this conversation and he’d always tried to ignore his very existence until today.
‘Frederick wasn’t to know he would die violently,’ their mother defended her late husband half-heartedly.
‘Then he should have done,’ Wulf muttered darkly. He saw his eldest brother’s lips twitch as if he wanted to agree, but apparently that was going too far.
‘Lucky you were too far off to be accused of his murder,’ Gresley grumbled instead. ‘If anyone had reason to do the old dog to death, it’s you.’ That was probably the only apology Wulf would ever get from his elder brother for years of pretending he didn’t exist.
‘None of my children are capable of murder,’ Lady Carrowe said firmly.
Wulf wondered why Gresley flinched when their mother was asserting his innocence as well.
‘Someone is,’ Gresley said heavily.
Wulf almost wished the men of power had left well alone, but the longer the Earl’s death was a mystery the more gossip and suspicion would do the rounds. Someone had the sin of murder on their head, but he still wasn’t quite sure he really wanted to know who it was.
‘I’d better sleep here, I suppose,’ Gresley said as if to change the subject. ‘It’s more comfortable at White’s, but Connie says it will look bad if I don’t put up here. At least when the formalities are over and the will is read, I can go back to Yorkshire and you’ll all be happier in Hampstead away from this.’
&
nbsp; ‘It is your house now, so you must do as you please,’ their mother told him.
‘Let’s all get our hammers out, then,’ Gresley joked and Wulf chuckled, then noticed Gresley was staring at their mother as if he longed for more than she could give him. How had he missed that need for so long?
‘Not until the upholsterers are quite finished with Develin House, if you please, boys,’ she said.
‘No, that would be unseemly,’ Gresley said and he was his usual stiff and insensitive self again, so maybe Wulf had imagined it. ‘When you are ready to move out, then, Mama,’ he added and went off to hurry his valet and grooms.
Again Wulf had an odd feeling of kinship with his eldest brother he’d love to crush to powder and wondered if he’d ever get a firm hold on who he really was. He wasn’t who he thought, but how could he be an earl’s third son when the old man had denied him at birth? Add the burning regret and hunger and sheer bloody-minded stubbornness roiling away inside him since he’d refused to chase after Isabella and accept her terms and it was little wonder he hadn’t slept properly for days. If only she would break through the wall he’d built round his privacy and demand he marry her again, he could give in and pretend he wasn’t too much of a coward to admit he couldn’t live without her. Well, he could live, the last half-year proved that, but it wouldn’t really be living, would it? Existing was the best he could look forward to.
Meeting Isabella opened him up to a whole world of feelings he hadn’t wanted to know about, but had he got so used to living in the shadows he couldn’t see the sun? It hurt to feel, so he hadn’t let himself. Until he met her and her breathtaking beauty and energy and sheer love of life demolished the walls he’d built round his inner Wulf as a boy. What he was going to do about all these untidy, unsafe emotions he wasn’t sure right now, but her ultimatum meant he couldn’t go on trying to pretend he didn’t have them much longer. But if he couldn’t bring himself to beg her to marry him when he was Wulf FitzDevelin, how could he now he was the legitimate son of a lord? A lord he cursed every time he closed his eyes, then woke to the memory of who he really was stark in his mind.
A Wedding for the Scandalous Heiress Page 18
