Wolf Who Loved Me (10 page)

“Then at least you’re in good company.” He could think of worse things than to be compared to a dog.

“I want a bath.” She said it with feeling. Like it was an order.

“Shall I have Renshaw ring for a maid as well? And perhaps someone to dress your hair?”

“That would be lovely.” She smiled through her tears. It was the most radiant smile he’d ever seen.

“I’ll have him do that right after he climbs off his perch and makes us a dinner of pheasant and lamb.” Surely she knew how absurd her request was.

Her stomach growled loudly. A most pretty blush crept up her cheeks. “I love pheasant and lamb,” she said softly.

His heart ached a bit of the thought of destroying this fantasy she was living in. But certainly, she had to realize how dire their situation was. He didn’t even have a pocket to let. He was wearing borrowed clothing. And hadn’t a shilling to his name. And he had Lady Madeline Hayburn imprisoned in his poor state of affairs. He’d brought her along for a very impoverished ride. Certainly, he was accustomed to doing without on occasion. To tying his own cravat and fetching his own drink. But she wasn’t. Hell, he didn’t think she’d ever been dirty before now. She’d just told him as much.

And it was all his fault. Lady Madeline’s fall from grace was on his head. “I don’t think you understand how dire our situation is,” he began softly as he leaned forward and took her hand in a gentle grip.

She pointed to her hair, which did look more than a bit bedraggled. “I think I understand quite well how dire my situation is.”

She had no idea that to go along with her dirty state and her wild hair, she could also run the risk of being hungry. “There’s more at stake here than the state of your hair.”

“Can’t we stop? Just long enough to have a good meal and a bath?” Her eyes pleaded with him. The tangles in her hair pleaded with him even more loudly.

“If we stop, then anyone they’ve sent after you could catch up to us,” he told her truthfully.

“But they’ve probably not even risen from their beds yet,” she cried. “You said so yourself,” she reminded him.

“Let’s see how far we get today, and then we can make a decision,” he offered, merely to placate her. But then she started to sniffle again. “Oh, all right. Fine. We’ll stop at nightfall. Renshaw will need to sleep anyway.”

“Thank you,” she croaked out as she swiped at the fresh wave of tears.

The tears did him in. He could take some whining. And he could take some griping. He could even take some grumbling, because his brothers had conditioned him well to that and he’d learned to ignore it through the years. But every time Madeline wrinkled up her pretty little nose to sniffle, it wrenched at a piece of Wes’ heart. It was like someone reached inside his chest and squeezed the air from his lungs every last time she spoke with a rasp because she’d been made to cry.

And yes, he’d made her cry. He was well aware that it was all his fault. If he hadn’t lingered quite so long over the whist table, he could have been well away from Castle Hythe before his transformation from man to beast took place. Then they could have avoided this trip. He never would have gotten her dirty. And she never would have been forced into this disgrace. For that was what it was, a disgrace. He’d been told enough times throughout the day. It was a total disgrace that Madeline was being treated so shabbily.

Wes cursed beneath his breath and rapped on the roof of the carriage. “We’ll stop at the next inn,” he told her.

Madeline’s head shot up and her eyes met his. “Really? Do you mean it?”

“I do. Renshaw needs to sleep. And I could stand to walk around a bit. We all need some food.” The apples and currants from the morning had long since left him empty.

“And a bath,” she sighed with a dreamy expression on her face.

“That depends on how much it costs,” Wes said beneath his breath. He was wearing borrowed pockets, for God’s sake.

“Why does that matter?” she asked, her head tilted at him in question.

“Money matters to us normal folks, Madeline,” he reminded her. “We need it in order to survive.”

“I’d hardly call you a
normal
man,” she remarked absently.

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered.

“No, I don’t mean that,” she rushed on. “I mean you’re a gentleman. Your brother’s a viscount.”

“A penniless viscount, until recently,” he reminded her.

“Hmm. Until he absconded with Sophie’s fortune,” she added dryly.

Was
that
what Archer had done? No wonder Lady Sophia would like his head on a platter. How had his brother managed such a nefarious feat? And without Wes or Gray finding out. Wes shook the thoughts away. “That is neither here nor there at the moment. Archer
isn’t
here and neither are his funds. It’s just you and me on this trip.”

“And Renshaw.” She folded her arms across her middle. “Let’s not forget the fellow who is funding this little excursion.”

The way she said that grated a bit. Wes rubbed his brow. “Just so you’re forewarned, I’m not certain we can get a bath for you, but we should be able to get some warm water so you can get cleaned up.”

“That will never do.”

“It’ll have to do, Madeline.”

She smiled softly at him. “It’ll all work out perfectly,” she said. “You’ll see. Once they find out who I am, they’ll jump to bring me anything I want.”

He leaned forward and speared her with a glance. “That’s just it. They can’t know who you are. They can only know that we’re Mr. and Mrs. Hadley. And we might not even tell them that much.”

“I could be your sister,” she offered.

He could never look at her like she was a sister. The ruse would be up in an instant. “You’ll be my
wife
. We may as well practice.” Thankfully, the coach rumbled to a stop just as he said those words.

A moment later, Renshaw, looking more than a bit exhausted, opened the coach door. Wes bounded out and offered his hand to Madeline.

She stepped from the carriage with his assistance but instead of looking at Wes, her eyes landed on the coachman. “I understand Mr. Hadley has written you quite a number of IOUs during this journey.”

“Madeline,” Wes growled.

The coachman frowned at the lady, which had little, if any effect on her. She tossed back her filthy hair and stood as regally as a duchess, or at least as regally as any duke’s daughter. “I want a bath, Renshaw. I believe I am owed one. And I’ll thank you and your funds for seeing that I get one. And when we return to Kent, I will see that you are reimbursed for any monies spent in that regard.”

“Is that before or after you see me hanged?” Renshaw asked, a bemused smile lingered on his face.

“Before, naturally. What would be the point in seeing you reimbursed afterward?”

Wes grabbed her arm and began to tow her toward the shabby little coaching inn. “Do not antagonize him, Madeline.”

She gasped as the ramshackle establishment came into her view. “Good heavens. I’m not sleeping here!”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much of a choice,” Wes began.

But she dug in her heels and shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. The place looks as though it is crawling with vermin.”

She had to be a spoiled duke’s daughter, didn’t she? His secret couldn’t have been discovered by a pious vicar’s daughter or a quiet chambermaid, could it? “Madeline, our options are limited. I’ll keep any vermin away from you. I swear it.” He felt like the worst sort of blackguard for even uttering those words. He was making the lovely and usually pristine Lady Madeline Hayburn spend the night in the most wretched inn he’d ever laid eyes on. Of course she’d balk at the idea. He wasn’t all that excited about it himself.

“Weston, no.” She clutched his arm. “It looks like the sort of place that caters to highwaymen.”

Indeed it did. “Darling, didn’t you see the look on Renshaw’s face? If we don’t stop, he could drive off the road and kill us all. We’ll just stay here long enough for him to rest a bit and then we’ll leave.”

“But—”

“You’ve seen what I am,” he whispered only loud enough for her to hear. “Believe me when I tell you that no harm will come to you. I am stronger than any man inside those walls, and no one will ever hurt you.”

She blinked back tears and Wes’ heart nearly broke. “I want a
bath
, Weston.”

“All right, Madeline.” He draped his arm around her shoulders. It was the least he could do. He already owed Renshaw a tidy sum for driving them to the border, for food, for clothes, for shelter. Why not add a bath to the list? He just hoped the coachman’s funds didn’t dry up before they returned to Kent. “I’ll see that you get your bath.”

She sniffed back a tear as she nodded.

Wes directed her closer to the taproom doors and squeezed her arm when raucous laughter spilled out into the night air. “You are safe with me,” he reminded her. “But do me a favor and let me do all the talking, will you?”

Silently, she nodded once again, a bit of fear flashing in her green eyes.

As soon as they stepped into the taproom, all sounds of jocularity came to an abrupt halt as every gaze seemed to settle on them. The interior was just as Wes had suspected, filled to the brim with swarthy-looking fellows, who might, as Madeline had suggested, actually be highwaymen. He didn’t meet anyone’s eye except for that of an older man with thinning grey hair who was standing behind the long wooden bar.

“My wife and I are hoping you have a room this evening,” Wes said softly, guiding Madeline closer to the bar.

The innkeeper looked them both over, from top to bottom. “Did ya take a tumble from a horse?” he asked, his Yorkshire accent slow and rumbling.

“Fell into a bit of mud earlier,” Wes replied. “Have you got a room, sir?”

The man nodded. “Ma-ry!” he called, letting each syllable bleed into the next as the room at large began milling about, once again.

A portly woman in a mobcap emerged from the back room, wiping her hands on a grimy apron. “Ya bellowed?”

The innkeeper gestured toward Wes and Madeline with his head. “Take this couple up to nine, woman.”

Mary smiled at the pair of them, her yellowed teeth flashing in the dimmed light. “Well, come on wit’ ya.” She started for a set of steps in the back of the taproom. “We don’t get many overnight visitors.”

“You don’t say,” Madeline mumbled.

Mary turned back to face them, her gaze traveling up and down Madeline’s form. “By gum! What happened to ya, dearie?”

“Fell into a bit of mud.” Madeline echoed Wes’ previous words to the innkeeper. “I was hoping I could have a bath.”

The old woman nodded her head. “I should say so. I don’t think I’ve seen a woman in worse shape.”

Madeline squeaked in horror, but Mary paid her no heed and began climbing the stairs. “We’ll have a tub brought up for ya and some hot water.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Wes replied, saving Madeline from having to respond.

A moment later in the tiny corridor, the woman turned a key into a lock and pushed open a bedroom door. She quickly lit a small lamp in the corner of the room, bathing the small quarters in a warm glow.

A mouse ran across the floorboard.

Madeline screamed and hurled herself at Wes. He’d never been fond of mice until that very moment, and he scooped his bride-to-be up in his arms.

She buried her face against his shoulder. “You said you wouldn’t let any vermin near me.”

“My dear, I will hold you all night if you’d like.”

“A bit squeamish, is she?” Mary clucked with disapproval as she slid back into the hallway. “One wouldn’t think it with the way she looks.” Madeline dug her face deeper into the curve of his neck. As the woman stepped out the door, she said, “I’d worry more about the vermin out there than the vermin in here.” She tipped her head toward the taproom.

“Thank you,” Wes replied. He shut the door behind the woman with his foot. Then he crossed the floor and sat on the edge of a small bed, careful not to jostle Madeline too much in the process for fear she’d jump right out of his arms. He found that he liked holding her, particularly when she was feeling so compliant. “It’s all right, my dear. I’ve got you.”

She pulled back from him, staring into his eyes. “She said she’d never seen a woman look worse than me.”

Wes winced. What could he say to that?

“I must look even more frightful than I thought. Did you see her? Have you taken a look around this hovel? And she’s never seen anyone look worse than
me
?”

“I’m certain she was exaggerating, Madeline.”

“This is the worst day of my entire life. I want you to know that.”

He didn’t doubt it for a moment. Rolled in mud and abducted, with no choice but to marry him. “I am sorry. I will make it up to you.” Someday, somehow. If it took the rest of his life.

She arched one golden eyebrow in disbelief.

Wes couldn’t help but laugh. She was adorable, all covered in dirt, leaves, and an occasional twig, yet still as imperious as she’d always been. And she was all his, or she would be very soon. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

Something flashed in her eyes, but West couldn’t quite name the emotion. “If you tell me even the sun pales in comparison to my beauty, I will cast up my accounts right here. I might even do it on your shoes.”

“Do that and I might have to go barefoot the whole way to Gretna. I’m not certain we could afford another pair.” Then Wes scoffed. “I would wager that I am more skilled at flirtation than Dewsbury. Thank you very much.” Her brow rose in disbelief once more, which only made Wes scowl at her. “You needn’t look so surprised. A number of females have found me to be quite charming, I’ll have you know.”

“And did you kiss each of
them
?” she asked tartly before a delightful pink stained her cheeks.

What he wouldn’t give to kiss
her
right now. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” She blinked at him.

How was he to remember anything, anyone but her, as she sat on his lap, so close that he could feel her heat through his clothing? Wes shook his head, his eyes focused on her delectable, tempting mouth. He swallowed. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

Her lips parted on a breath. “I—”

A knock sounded on the door. Wes set her down beside him as the door swung open. The innkeeper frowned at the pair of them, sitting on the bed. “Mary said ya wanted a bath.”

“Yes, please.” Madeline scrambled off the bed.

The innkeeper eyed Wes warily. “Ya want ta help me haul the tub in here, sir?”

“Of course.” Wes pushed to his feet and followed the old man into the hallway. Then he hoisted the tin tub over his shoulder, without any assistance, and placed it in the middle of the bedroom floor. Thankfully, the tub appeared clean. It might be the only clean thing in the entire establishment, in fact. Wes nodded to the innkeeper. “Thank you, sir. Now if we might have some hot water.”

“The lad’s on his way up with a bucket right now.”

***

Maddie kept a keen eye on the floor, watching for any more mice, as the last bucket of water splashed into the tin bathtub. Now if only all the men in the room would disperse, she could finally wash the dirt and grime from her hair and skin. She didn’t think she could completely relax in the room, not having seen that first mouse—but she also didn’t think anything would bother her once she was submerged in the water.

“Thank you, for everything.” Weston gestured the innkeeper and a shabby-looking young man from the room. Then he shut the door after them, locked it, and leaned against it as though he alone could bar them from re-entry.

Certainly he didn’t think he was
staying
while she bathed. Maddie waved him toward the door with her hand. “You may go, Weston.”

“And leave you to your own devices?” He shook his head. “I think I’ll just lie on the bed, if that’s all right with you.”

“It’s not all right with me,” she scoffed. Yet all he did was reposition a wobbly screen between the bed and the area where the tub lay.

“There. Now I won’t be able to see a thing. More’s the pity.” Weston sighed.

“That won’t be nearly enough,” she complained.

“We’ll be in Scotland tomorrow, my dear. We’ll be married
tomorrow
. There is no need to stand on ceremony. Take your bath, please. I’ve heard about nothing else the past hour.”

That was perfectly fine for him to say. He didn’t look as though he should be planted in a garden somewhere. “It wouldn’t be proper for you to stay.”