The Wolf's Betrothed (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 5)

by Patricia Blackmoor

  “What did she say?” I murmured to Annabelle as we brought up the rear of the crowd.

  “She thinks a wolf did it,” Annabelle answered, keeping her voice low.

  Foolishly, my first thought was of Lillian, but I knew that didn’t make sense. Lillian was locked away and had no reason to want to kill Roderick. There was another, though, even more dangerous. “Seth?” I asked. Who else but the duke’s nefarious brother?

  “It would surprise me if it were anyone else,” Annabelle said.

  “How did she know it was a wolf?”

  “She said his stomach was torn open.”

  I hadn’t had enough of a view to see that, but the thought made my stomach turn. “Poor girl. She’ll have nightmares for weeks.”

  “As if she didn’t already.”

  We’d made it into the parlor, standing in the doorway as guests gathered their coats and left en masse. Down the hallway the councilmen were gathered, keeping their voices low but obviously discussing the tragedy.

  Bridget put her arm around Christine’s shoulders, guiding her up the mansion stairs. Christine’s shoes and the hem of her dress were soaked with melted snow, and her lips had turned blue from the cold. While we waited, concerned, for her return, Annabelle and I took a seat in the parlor.

  My parents had filtered through from the ballroom.

  “Such a shame the party had to end early,” my mother sighed.

  “Yes, terrible that someone died,” I said.

  She stiffened. “Well of course, that’s not what I meant. Do you know who it was?”

  I exchanged a glance with Annabelle, and her expression told me to keep my mouth shut for now. “I haven’t heard,” I said. “Christine was too shaken to say much.”

  “Oh, well,” said my mother, more disappointed that she didn’t have gossip to spread than who the deceased might be. “Are you coming with us?”

  “I’d rather stay here. I’m worried about Christine.”

  My mother offered a simpering smile. “Of course, if you’d like to stay with the duchess, you’re more than welcome to. Adam can give you a ride home?”

  Adam had come over to where my parents stood. “I’d be happy to,” he answered.

  “You two behave,” my father warned.

  “I wouldn’t dare do anything,” Adam swore. Not tonight. We were all too shaken for that sort of play.

  My parents shrugged and followed the rest of the crowd out of the mansion. For the first time that night, things were still and quiet. Adam had returned to the men, who had shut themselves into the library.

  Dressed in a softer, flowier, more casual gown, Christine came down the stairs. Her face held an expression of profound exhaustion, with a downturned mouth and weary eyes. Without even looking she flopped down on the loveseat between Annabelle and me. Moments later, Bridget returned, handing Christine a cup of tea and placing a blanket over her shoulders. Christine kept her eyes down, staring at the teacup clasped in her hands.

  We didn’t say much. Christine didn’t seem in the mood to talk, and it was almost certain that anything we said would make things worse. Instead we sat with her, my arm threaded through hers and Annabelle’s arm around her shoulders. Bridget sat nearby, ready to attend to anything the duchess may have needed.

  A knock sounded through the house and the butler opened the front door to let the police officers in. They spoke briefly and Mr. Potter led them toward the back of the house. Jasper left the library to join them outside.

  Christine leaned back in the seat, her eyes surveying the remnants of the party. The guests hadn’t been neat, leaving behind cups and plates scattered about and decorations that had wilted or been knocked over.

  “I should—” Christine started.

  Annabelle reached over and pushed her back gently. “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve had a shock. I’m surprised you didn’t swoon.”

  Christine’s expression grew dark. “I’m lucky I didn’t. In that cold, I would have frozen quickly and no one would have found me until it was too late.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “That’s a bit macabre. Are you sure you’re all right, Christine?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” she said, bringing the teacup to her lips. “The whole thing has my head spinning.”

  “I believe it. I can’t even imagine.” The thought of it made my stomach churn, if it was really as bad as Annabelle had said. His stomach torn open...what a horrid and painful way to die.

  We heard the sounds of thumping and clanging and scraping from the back of the house and turned to look. After a few moments the officers appeared in our view, carrying Roderick’s body on a stretcher between them. He was covered in a sheet, but his blood had seeped through, leaving a scarlet stain on the white cotton. I swallowed, averting my eyes, trying not to look as they carried him out. Beside me, Christine shifted, rubbing at her temple. If possible her face had become even paler, devoid of all color. She looked ready to faint.

  “Are you all right, Christine?” I asked as Bridget moved to stand up.

  Christine put a hand up, and Bridget sat back down. “I’m all right. Sorry.”

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Annabelle said, rubbing her back. “We’re just concerned about you is all.”

  “I’ll be all right.”

  Jasper appeared in the doorway. His usually composed countenance was beginning to fray, his dark hair mussed as if he had been running his fingers through it, blood splattered over his jacket and dress shirt. He still kept his composure, but he looked like he could use a nap or a drink or both.

  “Christine, Annabelle, please come with me,” he said, beckoning to the two of them before running his fingers through his hair.

  The two stood up without a word, leaving Bridget and me behind. I frowned. I had been right by Annabelle’s side when Christine was upset. I knew that as I wasn’t married to a councilman yet, technically I wasn’t privy, but it seemed unfair to leave me out in the parlor.

  “I hope she’s all right,” I sighed.

  “She will be,” Bridget said, watching them as they shut themselves into the library. “She’s resilient, that one.”

  “You knew her before she came here?”

  “Only briefly. We met the evening she was evicted from her home. I lived on the streets with some other girls. We invited her to stay with us. Unlike most girls who end up on the street, she found a home before long. Her story ends better than most.”

  “Yours seems to have ended all right. You’re here, after all.”

  She glanced back down the hallway, where Conor and Adam were talking. “I can’t complain,” she said with a faint grin.

  The two men came over to join us. Conor’s face was drawn, his eyes full of sorrow. Bridget reached out to touch his arm with an unexpected tenderness. “How are you holding up?”

  He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall near her chair. “This was certainly unexpected.”

  “No chance this was natural causes, then?”

  He shook his head. “His torso was completely lacerated, torn open. His organs had spilled out into the snow. Whoever did this did it violently. It almost certainly was a wolf.”

  I watched in curiosity; I wasn’t sure how much Bridget knew about werewolves, since she wasn’t from here. She merely nodded. “Jasper’s brother, then? Seth.”

  “Almost certainly,” Conor repeated.

  Adam came and sat down beside me. “I should probably bring you home now. We’re probably going to be up all night trying to sort this out.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “As if this was your fault!” I shook my head at him. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t stay away from the violence, even for the holidays.”

  Adam leaned in and kissed me on the forehead gently. “I’m just glad you weren’t the victim this time.”

  Chapter Four

  “This color is stunning on you,” my mother said as she buttoned up my
satin gown. It wasn’t a normal color I would choose—a sort of golden pink that shimmered in the light—but it did have a way of warming my skin so I couldn’t complain.

  “It doesn’t go with your ring,” my mother said, “but I suppose that makes it stand out.”

  “I think they look fine together.”

  “You would.”

  I swallowed my annoyance as she latched the top button. Without asking, she reached into my jewelry box and pulled out a strand of pearls. She looped them around my neck, and the cool beads rested against my skin, the pink of the dress warm in the pearls. She selected a coordinating pair of earrings and handed them to me, a nonverbal command to slip them into my own ears. As I did, she reached over and picked up my hairbrush, pulling it through my hair.

  The bustle of servants could be heard from downstairs as they set up for Christmas. The decorations had been up all month, but this evening our family was coming over to celebrate the holiday with us. We had the biggest home, and that made it perfect for family gatherings.

  Of course, having her in-laws over always made my mother a bit erratic. She had been up since the early hours of the morning overseeing setup and cooking, ensuring that things were perfect. Every plate and napkin had to be perfectly in place, every speck of dust wiped off the mahogany. The windows had been washed so not a single streak was visible through the glass, and all the silver had been shined until it glistened.

  We’d gone to church that morning, and though my mother loved her services, she was distracted throughout. As soon as we got back home she went through everything again, though nothing had been touched since she left. As soon as my mother was satisfied that things were in order, she focused her attention on me.

  Guests wouldn’t arrive for another hour, probably, but my mother wanted to make sure I was acceptable before she focused on herself. I sat still in my chair, hardly breathing as she wove and twisted and braided my hair back, choosing a pearl-edged comb to sparkle in my hair and match my jewelry. She used a fluffy brush to powder my face, followed by a little color for my cheeks and lips.

  “Fantastic,” she said, stepping back to take a look at me. It was the closest to a compliment as I was going to get.

  “Will you go downstairs and make sure everything looks good?” my mother asked me as she started out of my bedroom.

  “Mum, you know the house looks perfect.”

  “Make sure the candles are lit and the table is organized,” she said, seemingly ignoring me. I sighed and obeyed her orders, heading down the stairs to appraise the already-immaculate decorations and table settings. The table settings were all in their places, candles glimmered, and the tree was dressed and sparkly. The house was perfect.

  Soon it was filled with family. We sat around the long table in the dining room, forks clinking against plates, chatter and laughter filling the room. I sat with Lisbeth on one side and Adam on the other. Adam didn’t have much family left. Both his mother and father had passed, and he had been an only child. His last remaining relatives were too far north to visit while Wolf’s Peak was in chaos.

  From across the table, my aunt turned to Adam. “So, Adam, how do you like working for Duke Wolfric?”

  He gave her a small smile. “I enjoy it very much. He’s a wonderful employer.”

  My uncle scoffed. Adam gave him a tight smile. “Something wrong?”

  “He doesn’t seem like a wonderful employer. Certainly not good for our duchy.”

  I tensed, not wanting to discuss politics at dinner.

  “Why would you say that?” Adam asked. He kept his voice mild but his fist was clenching on his lap.

  “Well, we’ve had two wolf attacks in the last six months,” my uncle said.

  “You think that’s the duke’s fault?”

  “No one knew that Lillian Hilton was a werewolf. Isn’t the duke’s job to control the wolves in England? How could he not know all the werewolves in his town?”

  “Lillian’s parents claimed they didn’t know she was murdered,” Adam reminded him.

  “And you buy that?”

  “I don’t know how much they knew, but it was a surprise to us all.”

  “Then there’s the issue with the duke’s brother. He can’t even keep his own family in line!”

  “Oh, yes, I heard about what happened at the duke’s Christmas gala,” my aunt said. “You were there, weren’t you, Dorothy?”

  My mother gave a solemn nod. “Oh, yes. It was terrible.”

  “What happened? I’ve only heard rumors.”

  Adam and I exchanged a look. “Well…” I started.

  “It’s was just tragic,” my mother said, putting her hand to her chest. “We were sitting in the ballroom. You should have seen it, Maude, it was decorated just beautifully. And there we were, sitting inside, no idea that anything was wrong! But then,” her face grew dark as she recounted the tale, “we heart a horrid scream cut through the air. It was the duchess! She had found Roderick Melle’s body outside on the balcony. What she was doing on the balcony, I don’t know, but it was certainly a shock to her.”

  I pursed my lips. My mother was only regaling the story for the attention, and I felt a fierce need to protect Christine even if she wasn’t here.

  “And it was the duke’s brother?” my aunt asked, playing into my mother’s need for gossip.

  “The evidence has been inconclusive so far,” Adam spoke up.

  My uncle scoffed again.

  “At least you know it wasn’t that girl,” my father’s great-aunt said. “The one who attacked you.”

  “No, she’s locked away still,” my mother said. “Good riddance. It’s too bad you didn’t know about her madness, Adam. You could have shut it down.”

  Adam squared his jaw, and I put a hand on his leg to try to calm him, feeling guilty for the way my mother was speaking to him.

  “Mum,” I protested as Adam pushed his chair back from the table.

  “I’m going to go get some air, if you don’t mind,” Adam said. “Problem with being a werewolf, you’re warm all the time.”

  “Hear, hear,” my father said, raising a glass to toast.

  Adam left the room. I moved to follow him, but Harry held a hand up. “I’ll go,” he murmured to me across Adam’s empty chair.

  “Mum,” I hissed as soon as both boys were gone.

  “I’m only saying what we’ve all been thinking.”

  “No one has been thinking that except you!”

  “Not from what I’ve heard.”

  Frustrated, it was my turn to push back from the table. I had lost my appetite anyway. I left the dining room with my mother calling after me, and to regain my composure, I went to sit in my bedroom.

  A few moments later there was a knock on my door. I looked up, hoping it wasn’t my mother, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Lisbeth poked her head in. She gave me a small smile.

  “You all right?”

  “Annoyed,” I sighed.

  “I understand. May I come in?”

  I gestured to the empty spot on the bed beside me. “Of course.”

  She sat down next to me, her sapphire dress bright next to my soft pink one. “I’m sorry our mums are terrible.”

  I gave a halfhearted laugh. “They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

  She leaned her head back against her headboard. “If my mother mentions finding me a man one more time this week, I might just run away.”

  “Run away? Where?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s all silly talk, anyway. I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

  I leaned my head on her shoulder. “Thanks for that.”

  “Don’t mention it. Should we go back downstairs?”

  I took a few deep breaths. I was probably calm enough to join the family, but I needed to find Adam and offer my apologies. Lisbeth climbed off the bed first and held out her hand to me. I took it, and together we stepped down the stairs to meet everyone in the parlor.

  My family had ac
ted like nothing had happened. Dinner was being cleaned up, and while dessert was being prepped, everyone was sipping tea and chatting. I wasn’t oblivious to their glances and looks, but I tried to shake it off, and forced a smile.

  “Glad you could rejoin us,” my mother said. I bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything into response. I passed through to the kitchen and made a cup of tea, letting the liquid soothe away the anxiety my family had caused me. I sat quietly in the parlor, Lisbeth by my side, focused on the crackling fire, waiting for Adam and Harry to return.

  When they finally did return, I practically leapt up from the couch to meet them in the doorway.

  “I am so sorry,” I told Adam.

  “Love, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said.

  “My mother—”

  “Is your mother. She has nothing to do with you.”

  I was still hesitant. His demeanor was calm, a small smile playing at his lips, his shoulders relaxed, his hands by his side. Still, I felt terrible that my family couldn’t hold their tongues long enough for him to leave before they began their insults, however “well-intentioned” they may have been.

  “You know what would make me feel even better, though?” Adam asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “If I could steal you away to give you my gift.”

  “I don’t see how that could be a problem.”

  “Well...it’s at my home.”

  I turned to my brother. “Cover for us?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop his smirk. “I suppose I can do that. You two behave.”

  “Never!” Adam snickered.

  I laughed. “I have to run upstairs to get your gift. I’ll meet you at the back door?”

  “I’ll be waiting,” he promised.

  I crossed back through the parlor and started toward the stairs when Lisbeth grabbed my arm. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  I lowered my voice so my family couldn’t hear. “I’m going to Adam’s for a bit to exchange gifts. Will you be all right?”

  She waved a hand at me. “Go, have your fun. Harry and I will make sure no one asks too many questions.”