Regency Wolfe: A de Wolfe Pack Connected World collection of Victorian and Regency Tales

by Mary Lancaster

  Marcus had no desire to be stabbed again. Using his weight to pin down Culbert, he grabbed Culbert’s wrist with both hands to keep the damned blade at a safe distance. Then he smashed the man’s wrist against the cobbles to force him to release it.

  Tessa rushed forward and pulled on Culbert’s free hand only to be shoved back.

  Marcus’s anger spilled over. He slammed Culbert’s hand against the ground once more, and the knife clattered loose. Marcus sat up to plow his fist into Culbert’s face, leaving the man limp.

  “Criminy,” Sally declared. “You knocked him senseless.”

  Marcus kept an eye on Culbert as he glanced at Tessa then Sally. “Are you ladies all right?” he asked as he stood and offered a hand to Tessa.

  “Yes,” Tessa said. She rose with his assistance then brushed off her skirt. “Are you?”

  “Fine.” He shook his hand. The thing throbbed like a toothache.

  “You saved us.” Sally stared wide-eyed at the knife that glinted dully on the street.

  “What happened?” Samuel said as he approached.

  Tessa explained as Marcus reached for the weapon and tucked it into his pocket. “Perhaps you might find a policeman to take him away,” he said to Samuel.

  Despite knowing the danger had passed, disquiet filled Marcus. It would take some time to erase the image of that knife threatening Tessa. He didn’t care to reflect on why it bothered him so much.

  “Are you certain you’re all right?” Tessa asked Marcus as they rode in his carriage after escorting Sally home.

  He’d been acting oddly since the altercation with Culbert. His peculiar behavior had continued even after the police hauled off the man.

  “It’s you I’m worried about.” That golden gaze held hers until she had to look away.

  “Why? I’m fine.” She kept her hands clasped tightly in her lap to hide the trembling. In truth, her entire body shook.

  “Liar.”

  Her gaze tangled with his again. What she saw there had her drawing a shuddering breath.

  With an oath, he gathered her into his arms and drew her head down on his shoulder. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. That was a frightening situation, and it’s only natural to have some residual shock.”

  Shock? Was that what made her want to hide her head in the curve of his neck and cry?

  Perhaps. But that wasn’t the only reason temptation filled her. Her feelings for Marcus were growing quickly out of control. If she allowed herself to lean on him now, she might never stand on her own again. It would be far too easy to become used to relying on him, to have him ease some of her burden.

  But no. She had to gather herself. He would be returning to Northumberland soon. Already she worried what her life would be like after he was gone. A fragile shell no longer as strong as it once had been.

  Despite all that, for one brief moment, she allowed herself the indulgence. She lay her head in the crook of his neck and breathed in his woodsy scent. His warmth heated her. She reveled in the feeling of his strong arms around her, comforting her. When he nuzzled her ear, she smiled, enjoying the shiver of desire that coursed through her.

  “I nearly lost my mind when I saw him pointing that knife at you. Why didn’t you wait in the carriage?”

  “I saw a girl who used to work for us speaking with Culbert. I wanted to warn her.”

  “They wouldn’t take her on board yet as the ship doesn’t leave for a few more days. We can send a message to her explaining the situation.”

  “Yes, that’s an excellent idea. I’ll speak with her personally if necessary to explain the scheme.” It relieved her mind to think they could still save Molly.

  “You’re going to get yourself hurt if you don’t take greater care.”

  “I couldn’t watch without trying to do something.”

  “Of course, you couldn’t.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Tessa. So strong. So lovely.”

  Her breath caught. Did he truly think so? To have this man admire her in any way was a heady experience.

  He pressed kisses along her jaw, and desire bloomed deep inside her. She shifted to better fit against him and offered her lips to him. With a groan, he kissed her deeply, his mouth angling to tease hers. Then he reached inside her cloak and held her, his hand warm on her waist. Overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her, she hardly knew what to think. Nerves danced beside desire, but desire won out.

  She reached up to touch his shoulder, moving her hand to the softness of his hair that curled along his collar.

  When his hand eased up to touch her breast, she couldn’t help but arch forward, stunned at the passion flowing through her. Then he covered the orb with his palm, massaging it gently. Her body throbbed with pleasure.

  “Christ, but I want you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses along her jaw.

  “You do?” The idea amazed her.

  He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “I ache for you.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly.” With a sigh, he drew her closer still.

  Never had she felt so treasured, so wanted. Or so frightened of where the next step might lead. He gently squeezed her breast then his thumb teased the tip. Tessa moaned as desire, hot and liquid, poured through her. She hadn’t realized she was capable of feeling like this. She’d always considered herself more of an intellect than a creature of passion. But Marcus turned her world on its side in many ways. Was she ready for it?

  The carriage drew to a halt, jarring both of them back to their senses.

  Marcus rested his forehead against hers, drawing a long breath as though to calm himself. Then he moved aside the curtain to glance out before turning back to her.

  “Tessa, I can’t help but worry about your safety.”

  “But the police took Culbert.”

  He took her hand in his. “He’s not working alone. There are others. Many others involved in this.”

  The men at the dock near Molly came to Tessa’s mind. “Yes. I suppose that’s true,” she acknowledged reluctantly.

  “Culbert could easily get word to them about your involvement. You might be in danger.”

  The thought made her heart skip a beat, but she lifted her chin. “I will be careful.”

  “I would like you and your aunt to close the shop for a few days.” He said the words softly as though she’d be more likely to agree.

  “We can’t possibly do that. There are orders to fill, and the girls—”

  “All of that can wait until I can resolve the situation. Now that the police are involved, it shouldn’t take long. Perhaps no more than two or three days. I would like you both to come and stay with me. Your aunt can act as chaperone. At least then I know you’ll both be safe.”

  “No.” Tessa swallowed hard. “It’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  She tried to think of a proper excuse, a reasonable one, rather than the truth—that she couldn’t possibly be in proximity to him and emerge with her heart whole. Or her maidenhood. Temptation had been so easy to resist in her life thus far. But not today, and certainly not if she stayed with Marcus. She was mature enough to know that. “My aunt would never agree.”

  “Shall we speak with her now? I’d be happy to explain my concerns and reassure her that—”

  “That’s not necessary. Thank you,” she added belatedly, avoiding his gaze. She reached for the carriage door, desperate to escape before he found some way to entice her to agree.

  He placed his hand on her arm. “Your aunt might also be in danger.”

  Tessa closed her eyes at the thought. While she liked to think she could protect herself, Aunt Betty could not. Her shoulders sagged even as her heartbeat accelerated. What choice did she have?

  Yet the idea of spending more time with Marcus frightened her. How could she shore up her defenses before she lost her heart and her innocence to this man?

  Marcus stood as Tessa entered the drawing room that evening befo
re supper. Her eyes grew wide as she glanced about the room, making him try to see what she did. His home was vastly different than hers, but he hoped she would still be comfortable here.

  Her simple blue gown with a hint of a bustle might not have matched the elaborateness of a debutante’s, but it complimented Tessa’s curves. “Are you settled?”

  “Yes. Thank you. The room is charming, my lord.”

  He frowned at her form of address. “Surely we’re beyond such formalities.” He took her bare hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “I like the sound of my given name on your lips. I rarely hear it.”

  “What do others call you?”

  “The Wolf. ’Tis a name passed down through the generations since my ever-so-many-great grandfather’s time. He is said to have had a terrifying reputation, causing other men to tremble in their boots.”

  “Oh?” She smiled up at him. “Do you resemble him?”

  “I am told my eyes are similar to his. Of course, that’s all based on family stories. He was a legendary knight feared by many, especially on the battlefield.”

  “A knight?” She leaned back and studied him from head to toe. “I could certainly envision you in chainmail with a sword strapped to your side. You would be fierce in battle. Of that, I have no doubt.”

  “Sir William de Wolfe was a man like few others. He fought the Scots many times until he married one.” He released her hands to pour a splash of sherry into a crystal glass and a brandy for himself, handing her the sherry.

  “He married his enemy?” She held the glass carefully as though not certain what to do with it.

  “The Lady Jordan was first his healer, then his lover, then his wife.”

  Tessa’s eyes went wide. “That’s the name you called me. The night in the alleyway.”

  Marcus realized his mistake too late. Why had he told her the story? He took a sip to give himself a moment to respond. “You have the same coloring my great-grandmother was said to have had. Green eyes and hair the color of warm honey.”

  She raised one of those honey-colored brows. “You must’ve thought her ghost had come to aid you when I appeared in the alley.”

  He chuckled, unwilling to admit which part of her assumption was wrong—that he’d thought his own de Wolfe angel had arrived to save him. With a frown, he glanced at the doorway. “Is your aunt joining us soon?”

  “She asked to have a tray sent to her room. I’m afraid the day’s events were overwhelming, even though she didn’t experience them firsthand.”

  Marcus did his best to hide a smile of satisfaction at the idea of having Tessa to himself for the entire evening. If all went as planned, he intended to ask her to consider a future with him.

  He escorted her to the settee where they conversed for several more minutes before a footman announced supper was ready. He offered his arm, drawing her close as they walked side-by-side into the dining room. As he’d requested, her place was next to his rather than at the end of the long table. The evening promised to be an enjoyable one.

  Tessa stopped short at the sight of the elaborate place settings and candelabra, dismay filling her. Since the moment she’d entered his home, she’d been overwhelmed and felt completely out of place.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’m hardly dressed for such a fine meal.” While she’d worn her best gown, it was nothing compared to what a lady would wear to such a meal.

  He waved away her concerns as he pulled out her chair. “Nonsense. You look beautiful. I’m honored to dine with you.”

  Tessa drew a long breath, trying to relax. It had been easy to forget he was an earl earlier in the day, but here, it was impossible. “Your home is lovely.” Amazing. Ornate. Fancier than her wildest dreams.

  Still, the tasteful elegance of the furnishings suited Marcus. But she’d never in her life felt so out of her element. Every item, from the intricate gold knocker on the front door to the hand-painted wallpaper in her room to the crystal and china sitting on the table, reminded her she didn’t belong.

  “I fear I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Marcus advised her as one footman poured their wine, and another began serving them. Another oddity that would take some getting used to.

  Her gaze leapt to meet his. Was this it? Would this be the moment he told her a wife awaited him at his castle in Northumberland?

  “I have reason to believe one of my ships might be involved in hauling girls to the continent.”

  Relief made her knees so weak that she was grateful to be sitting. As Marcus explained his suspicions about what his ship’s cargo hold was being used for, her feeling of being out of place fell away. The information he shared appalled her. To think of such a terrible fate coming to Sally or Molly made her ill. They discussed the information they knew with what had recently been reported by social activists.

  To her surprise, he knew Josephine Butler, a social reformer who had recently started fighting for the welfare of prostitutes. The terrible descriptions of the white slave trade and poor treatment of prostitutes she shared at public meetings had caught the interest of many.

  “She lived in Northumberland for a time before moving to London. I have followed some of her reports on the poverty here.”

  “I admire her fortitude,” Tessa said. “I’m certain she’s made many enemies in her effort to reveal the travesties that occur on a daily basis.”

  “The wealthy in the city need to play a larger role in solving the problem. Fair wages have been something I’ve tried to implement in the coal mines my family owns. While some profit must be made in order to keep a business viable, it is equally important for the workers to earn a living.”

  Tessa felt her heart swell as he spoke. To hear a successful lord say such things rather than declare the issue someone else’s problem touched her deeply. While she and her aunt might make a small difference in their efforts, a man like him would make a big difference. Not only with the workers in his employ, but to influence other members of the ton.

  The meal passed quickly and so enjoyably. The food was delicious—a savory soup, roasted pork with potatoes, and freshly baked dinner rolls. The wine was light on her tongue. She couldn’t help but compare the evening to her normal routine of a simple supper with her aunt. There were too many differences to count, so she did her best to enjoy the experience. After the meal, they returned to the drawing room with Marcus guiding her to sit beside him on the settee again.

  “Have you always lived in London?” Marcus asked as he held her hand.

  “Yes. My mother died when I was eight. My father was a clerk at an assurance company but, without Mother to berate him, he made one unwise decision after another with what little money he made. He died when I was fourteen. Aunt Betty had recently started the seamstress shop and invited me to join her.”

  The memories were far from pleasant. She’d feared that she’d be forced into a workhouse as all their belongings had been taken to be sold by the creditors. Her anger at her father had not died with him. The fear she’d lived through in the dark days after his death before Aunt Betty had rescued her were something she’d never forget.

  “What are you not telling me?” Marcus placed a finger under her chin, so she looked at him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can see the pain in your eyes. What happened?”

  The concern in his voice touched her. But she didn’t want his pity. “My father left me in rather dire circumstances. If not for Aunt Betty, I might not be any different than the girls who apprentice in our shop.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

  Her mind filled with the images of the creditors who’d pounded on the door, demanding payment. One had even suggested they sell her to pay her father’s debts. The hatred she’d felt for her father at that moment had been a living, breathing thing. A cloud of darkness that had taken months to cast off.

  “It was unpleasant.” She drew a breath to try to push b
ack the memories again. Unleashing them was never a wise idea as it filled her dreams with too many scenes she’d rather forget. Nor did she think he could truly understand given the world in which he lived.

  “I wish you’d tell me more.”

  The guilt and shame she’d felt flooded back, heating her cheeks. “Let us say that all our things had to be sold in order to pay our debts.”

  “His debts.”

  She looked up at Marcus in surprise.

  “They weren’t your debts. They were his. I think that’s an important distinction.”

  She nodded. She hadn’t realized the words she’d used until now. “Yes, well, some of the creditors believed I should’ve done more to alleviate the debts.”

  His brow furrowed as though he didn’t understand.

  She choked back the shame she still felt at the thought of what had nearly happened. Maybe this would make him truly grasp from where she came. “It was suggested that I be sold to help pay them.”

  “Tessa. No.” The dismay in Marcus’s voice couldn’t come close to matching what she’d felt at the time. What still returned to haunt her in the dark of the night.

  That was why she’d vowed never to leave her future in the hands of anyone else ever again, especially a man. She was determined to make her own decisions and pick her own path. With a deep breath, she blinked back her tears. She’d shed far too many all those years ago.

  “Thanks to Aunt Betty,” she continued, “I was spared from such a fate. Since then, I do all I can to keep others from facing that.”

  “I can’t imagine what you went through. But I understand why you want to help others. I admire your courage more than you could ever know. You are amazing.”

  He pressed his lips to hers then leaned back, their gazes locked. “You are very special to me.” He looked at her as though he truly wanted her to know that then kissed her again, longer this time, his tongue moving with hers. His hand cupped her face while his other pulled her tight.

  Tessa hesitated, surprised he’d still want her after what she’d shared. All the emotion that her memories had brought to the surface flooded her, leaving her vulnerable. But Marcus’s arms held her tight, anchoring her, making her feel cherished and safe. Perhaps he was a man who could be trusted.