Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) (2 page)

“On this we will just have to agree to disagree.”

“Teddy, he runs one of London’s most notorious gaming hells!
 
How can you excuse that?”

“I have said all that I will say on the matter.”

“Oh,” she growled, “Sarah said you could be stubborn when you set your mind to something.”

“And I have set my mind to this.
 
Need I remind you what Sarah said when I held her in my arms as she took her last breaths?”

“No,” she bit out, tightening her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
 
She refused to give in to any more tears.
 
It had been two years since they buried her sister, and best friend, but some days it felt like only yesterday.

“She wanted you to be happy.”

“And marrying your wastrel brother is the solution?” she asked incredulously, spinning around to face him once more.

“Regardless of what you think, family is very important to Thorn.
 
He loved Sarah like a sister for most of his life.
 
He loves his niece and nephew.
 
He tolerates you,” he tried to tease.

“I
loathe
him.”

“What really happened between you two?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she huffed and moved across the room.

“Sarah always suspected there was more between the two of you than you let on, but she said you remained tight-lipped about it.”

“It was none of her business and now it is none of yours.”

“Fine.”
 
He held up his hands knowing he would not get anywhere further on that front.
 
He started to say something but another fit of coughing overcame him.
 
This time it lasted longer than before and had him doubling over until Rebekah could assist him to a chair.
 
Once seated, she quickly got him something to drink.
 
She made to stand up when he grasped her wrist.
 
She could not help but notice that his grip had weakened over the weeks.
 
Kneeling beside him, she looked up at him and saw the desperation in his eyes.
 
“Please, Rebekah.”

Those two words were like a death knell sounding over the valley.
 
Suddenly she felt as if someone had put the last nail in her coffin and she could not take in enough air.
 
“Do what you must,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Thank you.
 
You don’t know how this eases my mind.”
 
He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m going outside with the children,” she said, slipping out of his grasp, and escaping from the room.
 
Once she reached the coolness of the darkened hallway, she came to a stop.
 
“Bloody hell and damnation,” she muttered, nerves and anger jockeying for first place position inside her.
 
“This will never work.
 
I’ll kill him first.”
 
She pushed away from the wall and made her way outside.
 
The spring sunshine felt wonderful on her face, a light breeze blew, lifting the tendrils of hair off her neck.

“Aunt Bekah!” Two beautiful tow-headed children called out simultaneously.
 
She began to chase after them, the pups chasing her, in hopes of forgetting her recent conversation with Teddy and the change it would have on her life.
 
The five of them played until Rebekah collapsed on the ground in a most unladylike heap.
 
She lay on her back, her arms flung wide looking up at the cloudless sky wondering when her life had begun to spin out of her control, and then pinpointing it exactly.
 
Rebekah would have cursed her soft heart and that moment in time if it were not for the twins.

All of a sudden, her arms were full of warm, wiggling bodies.
 
Zachary and Ivy lay as close to her as possible, one on each side, their heads resting on her arms.
 
Piddles and Smelly lay close by, keeping watch.
 
Rebekah dropped a kiss on top of the head of each child before looking at the sky once more.
 

“Aunt Bekah, why’re you so quiet?” Ivy asked.

“Are you sad?” Zachary queried.

“A little,” she answered honestly, “but nothing for you two to worry about.
 
Let’s see if we can pick shapes out of the clouds,” she coaxed the twins.

“Snake!” Zachary shouted, laughing and pointing above causing his sister to squeal.

“Giraffe,” Rebekah pointed out, causing both children to giggle.
 
None of them were aware of the man watching wistfully through the window.

***

Theodore Wulfe, Duke of Wulfecrest watched the trio through the window in his study, a smile played on his lips at the same time a lone tear ran down his cheek.
 
They would be fine with Rebekah overseeing their care.
 
He just hoped Rebekah and Thorn would not kill each other before the children were raised with families of their own.
 
He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye.
 
Theodore could see a rider approaching the house from a window that faced the front drive.
 
Hopefully he brought the signed papers he had been waiting on.

His butler delivered the packet of papers.
 
Teddy shuffled through them, finding the ones that he needed.
 
A true, full smile lit up his face.
 
They had done it, by damn!
 
It had taken several individuals’ involvement and subterfuge, but they had the necessary paperwork.
 
He hoped the archbishop would use the money that he had donated wisely.
 
Thorn had signed the paperwork two years ago, not long after Sarah’s death and Teddy’s discovery of his terminal illness. His brother had no knowledge that he was committing himself to a future with a ready-made family.
 
Teddy knew he should feel bad about his trickery, but he did not.

What he regretted was having told his wife about his declining health.
 
If he had not told her, she would not have been upset when she went riding and would not have been riding as if the hounds of Hell were on her heels.
 
He had chased after her but had been too late.
 
He had arrived in time to cradle her in his arms as she breathed her last.
 
Teddy dashed away the tears that lingered on his lashes.
 
He looked out the window once more at his children playing without a care in the world.
 

“Jones, send for the vicar in the village of Brookside.
 
Tell him all is in order, and he is needed right away.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Theodore Wulfe collapsed in the chair behind his desk, weak with relief and illness.
 
They had taken a chance and conspired against his brother, but it had worked.
 
Now he would not have to worry about the twins being raised in the same strict and horrid conditions Sarah and Rebekah had been.
 
Sarah, the meek child, had come away from her parents’ house with both physical and emotional scars.
 
He could not imagine what scars the strong-willed Rebekah carried.
 
Neither he nor his wife knew what had happened to force his sister-in-law to live with them, and he could not even begin to imagine.
 
He just remembered her showing up on their doorstep with just a small bag that held a few special items, looking like a ghost of her former self.
 
He could not remember how long it had taken her to laugh and even now, her laughter was rare.

He pushed up out of his chair, pausing a moment as he waited for a wave of dizziness to pass.
 
Teddy walked to the French-style doors that led outside.
 
He stood on the terrace and soaked up the warmth of the spring day.
 
Best to get this over with.

“Rebekah, the paperwork has arrived.
 
I have sent for the vicar.”

“What?” She exclaimed, sitting up quickly.
 
The twins sat up as well, their pillow gone.

“You are to be married today.”

“Who are you marrying, Aunt Bekah?” Zachary asked.

“Are you going to stay with us?” Worry crept into Ivy’s voice.

“Of course, I am staying with you.
 
I am marrying your Uncle Thorn.”
 
There, she had finally admitted it out loud, and there would be no going back now.
 
Their future was now entwined whether she liked it or not.

“Uncle Thorn’s here?” The children squealed in delight, jumping up from where they still sat.
 
They had seen him less than a handful of times, but his visits were special times for the children.

“No, he isn’t here,” their father answered the question.

“Oh,” Zachary said, unable to hide his dejection.

“Then how are you going to marry him?” Ivy asked.

“Teddy, would you care to answer this?” Rebekah asked, her brow arched at her brother-in-law.
 
She stood up and swiped at the grass and leaves that clung to her dress and hair.

Teddy lowered himself to a chair on the veranda and his children ran to him.
 
They stood patiently in front of him awaiting his explanation.
 
“You see, Uncle Thorn is working on something very important.”
 
He looked up and saw the way that Rebekah stood, her arms crossed.
 
She rolled her eyes at his explanation.
 
“He cannot be here, so I am going to stand in his place.”

“You’re marrying Aunt Bekah?” Ivy queried, her head cocked to one side.

“Yes and no.”
 
The children looked at each other for a few moments as if they were communicating without saying a word, then shrugged at each other.
 
“I will represent your Uncle Thorn since he can’t be here.
 
It is called being married by proxy.”

“Proxy?” Ivy asked.
 
“Who’s proxy?
 
Is that the vicar?”

Finally taking pity on Teddy, Rebekah intervened hoping her explanation would make more sense.
 
“It isn’t a who, but rather a what.”

“Oh,” the little girl said, her nose scrunched up.

“Do you know when we play make-believe?” Rebekah waited for the twins to nod before continuing.
 
“Remember when you have me play a knight, even though I am not a boy?”
 
Again, the twins nod.
 
“This is the same thing.
 
Your papa is pretending to be Uncle Thorn so that we can be married.
 
You see, he is all the way in London, working very hard and cannot be here.
 
Now do you understand?”

Both children nodded their agreement.
 
“Aunt Bekah is going to marry a knight,” the twins chorused.

Rebekah stood up straight, hands on hips, and stared at her brother-in-law.
 
“Well, what have you to say about this?”

“You did better than I did.
 
And perhaps they speak some truth.
 
You could be marrying your knight in shining armor,” he added mischievously.

“I doubt that very much,” she gave an indelicate snort before spinning around and heading inside.
 
“I am going to make myself more presentable since we are to have guests.”
 
Rebekah escaped to her room and shut the door.
 
She thought she had more time to prepare herself for this fate that awaited her -- at least several days, not the hours that she faced.
 
By the end of the day she would be Lady Rebekah Wulfe, wife of Lord Thornton Wulfe, rogue extraordinaire.
 
How had fate led her to this?
 
Her mind attempted to dredge up memories from the past, but she fought them back, refusing to allow them to surface.

She pushed away from the door and walked across the room to study herself in the mirror.
 
A plain woman stared back at her.
 
She had straight dark-brown hair and darker skin from spending time in the sun that most society women would frown upon.
 
Her eyes were perhaps her best feature, rimmed in long, dark lashes they were what one would term hazel.
 
She had a scar that bisected the brow over her left eye, and served as a reminder of that long ago incident that she faced every day.
 
Her eyes tended to change color with her mood, making them mercurial and difficult to hide how she felt about something or someone.
 
Her lips were bow-shaped and naturally lush.
 
Her nose was thin and just a bit upturned at the end.

She slowly undid the buttons of her dress and let it slide down her arms, followed by the chemise underneath.
 
Rarely did she look at her body, but today she studied it.
 
One might describe her as looking virginal, but looks could be deceiving.
 
She walked over to her dressing table and picked up the hand mirror that lay there.
 
She walked back to the cheval mirror.
 
Her breasts were small with pink-tips.
 
Her waist nipped in and her hips flared slightly.
 
Her stomach was flat and she could see the dark hair that peeked from the apex of her legs.
 
She leisurely turned until her back faced the mirror and pulled her silky straight hair over one shoulder.