Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) (51 page)

Once mounted, he guided the horse through London.
 
He went past Walsh’s residence and searched out Barkley.

“Nothing to note, my lord.
 
He left a while ago.”

“And the giants?”

“Took them with him.
 
I see one’s still not walking too well,” Barkley referred to the one that Rebekah had shot.

“No, no he’s not.
 
Keep watching.
 
I can’t get a read on this one, Barkley.”

“No, sir.
 
Reminds me a bit of an eel—slimy and difficult to keep in your grasp.”

“Yes.”

“Where are you going, if I might ask.”

“I don’t know.
 
I can’t go home, not without Rebekah.”

“The children must be missing Lady Wulfe.”

“Yes.”
 
Thorn prodded his horse’s flanks, and he began to move.

“Be careful, my lord.
 
I wouldn’t want to have to train another.”

“Barkley, you would be hanged for being insubordinate by anyone else,” Thorn laughed before leaving the man behind.
 
He traveled the streets of London thinking over the last few days.
 
A group of the
ton
wanted to kill the Prince Regent.
 
The director of the War Office had almost been beaten to death, and now Rebekah had been kidnapped to ensure he would comply.
 
He dared not think about what else might happen.

Twilight was falling on London
 
Thorn let the clip-clop of the horse soothe him as they traveled through the streets.
 
He absently guided the horse, not paying attention to where he led him, until he finally came to a stop.
 
Wulfe looked over to see the entrance of the cemetery where their son had been buried.
 
This was the last place Rebekah had been.
 
Why?
 
What had she been doing here?

He tied the horse to the gate and then entered the burial ground.
 
Thorn strolled the paths until he came to the memorial for his son.
 
His chest tightened at the loss.
 
Were he and Rebekah ever going to have the opportunity to be a family?
 
“Aaahhhhh!” he railed at the sky, his hands fisted in his hair.
 
When he came back to himself, he thought he heard a faint echo and a tinkling of glass.
 
He shook his head and noticed that someone had laid fresh flowers on the baby’s grave.

“Help!”

Thorn stood, drew his gun, and looked around in concern.
 
The voice sounded weak and raspy.
 
“Hello?”

“Please help!” A sob broke at the end of the plea.

“Keep talking,” he instructed.
 
He moved slowly, keeping his gun drawn should someone be waiting in the shadows.
 
The voice was wafting from the far back corner of the cemetery where several marble mausoleums stood.

“There are rats.
 
I can’t abide rats.”

Thorn paused.
 
Though raspy and weak, it sounded ever so familiar.
 
“Rebekah?” he called out tentatively.

“Thorn?” she sniffed.

“Yes.
 
Thank God I’ve found you!
 
Where are you?”

“Look for my petticoat flying from the window.”
 

He paused and saw a long white petticoat unfurl and get caught up in the wind.
 
“I see it!
 
I’m coming.”

“Be careful.
 
I don’t know if he has guards set about.”

Thorn reached her prison without any problem.
 
He stowed his gun and said, “Stay back from the door,” he ordered.
 
It took several times of him setting boot to lock, but he finally broke through.
 
He heard the squeak and pattering of rats’ feet as they moved further into the darkness. Wulfe sensed Rebekah flying through the air at him moments before he saw her.
 
He quickly put up his hands and caught her, bringing her close.
 
He walked backwards out of the marble building and lowered her to her feet on the ground.
 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Now I am,” she said, stepping away from him, and trying to suppress a shiver.
 
She pulled her cloak tight about her and the hood over her head, to cover most of her face.
 
“Can we go home?”

“What is this?”
 
He tipped her head back, bent to kiss her, but she turned her head so that his lips brushed her cheek.
 
“What’s going on?”

“This is not something I want to argue about in the middle of a cemetery.
 
I want to go home.”

“Well, you can’t go home.
 
Not yet.
 
I don’t want Walsh to know that I have found you.”

“Where do you propose to take me?”

“The
Lady Luck
.”
 

“Of course.
 
You know, I think you love that gaming hell.
 
Are you sure you aren’t married to her?”
 

“What happened to you being grateful that I rescued you?
 
In fact, where is the Rebekah I’ve come to care for?”
 
He lifted her up on the horse and climbed up behind her.

“That woman has had her eyes opened to the reality of what you do and who you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.
 
Take me wherever you must.”

Thorn led his horse through the streets of London.
 
People were giving them strange looks with her sitting in the saddle in front of him.

“People are staring,” Rebekah whispered.

“They’re not used to seeing such a beautiful woman,” he countered.

“I’m not playing your games any more, Thorn.”

“I’m not playing games, Rebekah.
 
I mean every word I say when it comes to you.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Did that brute giant do something to you?”

“No,” she whispered.
 

They traveled in silence the rest of the way.
 
He led the horse into the mews behind the gaming hell.
 
Thorn dismounted and then turned to help her down.
 
Her hood slipped back at the same time a light from a window illuminated her face.
 
It was extremely swollen and bruised on one side.

“Who did this to you?”
 
He took her chin in his fingers and tilted her head so that he could see better.

“It doesn’t matter.
 
I’ll see myself inside.”

“No, you won’t.
 
I have a few minutes to spare.”

“That is so kind of you, husband,” she spun on her heel and let herself into the back door of the gaming hell.

He caught up to her, grabbed her upper arm, and steered her down the hallway to his suite of rooms.
 
Thorn and Rebekah were immediately assailed by the smell of perfume.

“You bastard,” she turned to swing her palm at him, but was brought up short.

“That is not my cologne,” he bent so that he could look in her face.
 
“Come with me.”
 
He led her to the office.
 

She took a deep breath.
 
It smelled of leather and wood, a much more pleasant odor.
 
She began pacing the confines of the office, rubbing her arms.

“Now, what is the matter with you?”

Chapter 27

Rebekah opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
 
What was the matter with her?
 
She had come to terms that the past was in the past, but then events had spiraled out of her control.
 
Instead of having the upper hand and confronting her half-sister, it had been the other way around.
 
Then the woman who had claimed to have been helping her aided in her kidnapping.
 
Oh, and she could not forget the part where she was locked in a mausoleum for who knew how many hours with a dead body and rats as her only companions.
 
And he wanted to know what was wrong with her?

Her tough exterior began to crumble.
 
She felt her lips tremble and the tightness develop in her chest.
 
Her head pounded with every move, remnants of the blow the giant had dealt her in the carriage.
 
She began blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.
 
Rebekah backed away as he moved towards her.

“Let me hold you,” he said.

“No.
 
I can’t do this Thorn.
 
I can’t live in this constant fear that something will happen to the twins or to me.
 
I won’t do it.”

“Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

“No.
 
I am just telling you what I can’t do.
 
I also can’t live with a connection to this,” she flung her arms wide to encompass the gaming hell.
 
“I know it is not real, but sometimes I think you enjoy it more than you should.
 
Tomorrow, whether you are done with this aspect of your life or not, the twins and I are returning to Wulfecrest Manor.”

“With or without me?”

“That is your choice.”

“Well, I guess that says it all.
 
I will send someone to see that you and the twins travel safely.”

“Thank you.”

“Lock the door behind me.
 
Only answer for Barkley.”
 

The door closed and Rebekah crossed to lock it.
 
She moved to sit in the chair behind the large desk.
 
Unable to stand the scattered papers, she began working her way through them, putting them in various piles.
 
She came to a piece of paper that had
Walsh, Glandingham, Aimée
scrawled across it in a masculine hand.
 
Their names made a triangle with lines drawn connecting them, as if someone tried to determine how the three were joined.

Someone was wiggling the doorknob.
 
She heard muffled cursing on the other side of the door.
 
Rebekah tucked the note in a deep pocket in her cloak and crossed the room.
 
Long red velvet drapes covered the few windows there were.
 
She slipped behind one just as the door opened.

“I am so tired of his damn shady behavior,” a gruff voice said.
 
Rebekah jumped when the door bounced off the wall.

“Would you like to see the end of Lord Thorn Wulfe?” a smooth familiar voice queried.

“Of course I would.
 
If he were out of the way this could be all mine.”

“Consider this then.
 
An England where Prinny is no longer in control.
 
Where we bring back the beliefs of our fathers and grandfathers.”

“And how do you propose we do this?”

“Oh, we are not going to do anything.
 
We are going to have front row seats for the event.
   
No, Lord Thorn Wulfe is going to take care of this for us.
 
You see, I have someone that he cares for a great deal.
 
However, what he does not know is that I will be watching from Green Park, not St. James's Park as he insisted.
 
And who do you think will be waiting for him in St. James's Park?”

“The authorities?”

“Yes!
 
Bow Street Runners, will be surrounding him on an anonymous tip that there is going to be an assassination on the Prince Regent.
 
Wulfe will be surrounded by Runners just as his explosion goes off.”

“What about this person you have?”

“Oh, yes.
 
Well, you see, I promised her to one of my guards.
 
Afterward, I don’t care what happens to her.”

“Why are you including me?”

“Because, Uncle William, you have paid enough penitence and have done a bloody fine job of restoring the family coffers.
 
I believe Mother would have wanted me to share this moment with you, her only brother.”

“I only wish she had lived long enough to see them restored.”

“I don’t know that her delicate constitution would have dealt well with you being part owner of a gaming hell.”

“There is that.
 
I did love my baby sister.”

“I know, and she loved you.
 
Now, what do you say?
 
The fireworks start at Midnight.”

“That is four hours away.”

“Yes, but I have to make an appearance at the party.”

“Of course.
 
Let’s go…” the voices grew muffled after they shut the door and began moving down the hall.