Wolf Who Loved Me (26 page)

Wes watched Madeline from across the room. One gentleman after another drew her into his arms for a dance, touching her waist where
his
hand should have been. Looking into her eyes, where he only wanted his own gaze to land. Smelling her rosewater scent, which should have been his alone to devour. He swore beneath his breath.

“Go ask her to dance,” Grayson grumbled beside him.

“I’m going home,” Wes informed him.

“You can’t. You haven’t spoken to Hythe yet.”

“Hythe can go hang.” Wes raised a nasty-tasting orgeat to his lips and took a deep swallow. Being forced to watch Madeline was sheer torture. And he’d been doing it for what seemed like hours. “Wish I had some bloody whisky.”

Archer stepped up beside them. “Did someone say ‘whisky’?” he asked beneath his breath.

Gray gestured to Wes with his head.

“How can you drink that?” Archer asked. “The punch is foul.”

The orgeat was the least of Wes’ problems. At that moment, Lord Chilcombe led Madeline from the dance floor toward the refreshment table. “I can’t stay here anymore. Hythe can find me in the morning. I’m going home.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Archer growled. “Dash says I can’t leave until Lady Sophia says it’s time. So if I have to stay here, you have to accept the torture as well.” He grimaced as the orchestra began a new set. “I believe I’m partnered with the lady of my brother’s affection, myself, on the very next set.”

Wes’ eyes shot back to his brother’s. “You’re dancing with Lady Madeline?” he croaked.

Archer sighed. “The esteemed Lady Sophia arranged the dance cards herself, from what I hear. Apparently she asked all of her acquaintances from before her fall from grace to put the Hadleys on their dance cards. I’m not certain what hold she has over them, but they agreed.”

“He’s right. I’m partnered with Miss Pritchard.” Gray shivered lightly.

“Watch your toes. Her feet are a little unwieldy,” Archer warned.

“If you had feet that big, they’d be a little unwieldy, too,” Gray laughed.

“I haven’t been assigned any dances.” Wes looked across the room to where Lady Sophia was watching them beside Cait.

“She must like you best then,” Archer complained.

Wes was certain that had nothing to do with it. Archer had been assigned partners and so had Gray. But neither of them would frighten Lady Sophia’s delicate friends. Automatically, he touched a hand to his scar. Madeline, too, had been afraid of him once. “What’s the next dance?” he asked.

“A quadrille, Lady Sophia says. Why?” Archer gazed at him with a curious glance.

Gray smirked. “He doesn’t want you waltzing with Lady Madeline.”

Damn his twin to hell. He always knew what Wes was feeling, which was bloody inconvenient sometimes. “Go to hell, Gray,” Wes snarled.

“Already there, brother,” his twin replied, his voice droll and unconcerned as he gestured to the ballroom at large.

Dash appeared at Archer’s side. “Are the three of you behaving yourselves?”

“Yes, Dash,” they said in unison.

“Good. Continue on then,” he said, shooting them each a heated glance before he crossed the room to claim Cait for a dance of his own.

“How long do you think he’ll torture us with this training?” Gray asked with a heavy sigh.

“Until you’re respectable,” Archer said as he punched Gray’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “So, get respectable quickly, gentlemen. I can only take so much.” Then he placed his glass on a tray as a servant walked by and tugged at his jacket. “My turn with Lady Madeline,” he said with a smirk.

“If you touch her…” Wes began, stepping in front of him.

“You gave her away, Wes,” Archer said playfully. “She’s fair pickings.” His brother let his gaze roam up and down Madeline’s body from across the room. “Quite fair, if I do say so myself.” He looked into Wes’ eyes. Wes was startled by the intensity he found there. “I think she’d like wearing my mark. More than she liked the idea of wearing yours.”

“Arch,” Gray warned softly.

“Don’t make me kill you,” Wes growled as he laid a hand on Archer’s chest to keep him from advancing toward Madeline, who was now looking around, as though waiting for her next dance partner. Then she looked down at the card dangling from her wrist and scowled.

“What’s the matter? Too close to the full moon for you, Weston? Perhaps you should retreat with your tail between your legs.” He pushed Wes, who stumbled on the dance floor from the force of the shove.

Wes righted himself and started toward Archer, fully ready to rip his brother’s head from his shoulders. But Gray’s arms wrapped around him and he hissed in his brother’s ear. “Don’t do it. You’re causing a stir.”

Wes glanced around, and indeed, many gazes had swung in their direction. But, he didn’t particularly care. The thought of Archer touching Madeline had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He could barely see his older brother standing before him through the rage-red haze that clouded his vision.

“What’s the matter, Wes?” Archer taunted. “You gave her away. You were content to let every other man here dance with her tonight. Am I not good enough for her, either?” He straightened his jacket again and looked over at Madeline, who was even now on her way across the ballroom toward the lot of them.

Good God, Wes had done it again. He’d disgraced himself and hadn’t even planned to.

“Do you still want her, Weston? Or do you want to let someone else have her? Because if you don’t want her, I’ll give her a go myself. Maybe I can take her back to the duke afterward and he’ll accept her back into the family fold.” Once again, Archer’s lascivious gaze dragged up and down Madeline’s body. “It would probably be worth it.” Then he looked into Wes’ eyes. “Was it worth it, Wes? Having her and then giving her away?”

“You’re going too far, Archer.” Wes heard Gray on the periphery, once again warning their brother.

But the eldest Hadley paid him no heed. “Oh, but I plan to go farther still,” Archer said with a smirk. Then he started toward Madeline.

“Archer!” Wes yelled to his retreating back. The orchestra stopped and all the movement in the room came to a quick halt. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were suddenly focused in their direction.

Archer looked over his shoulder at Wes, still smirking. Wes would take great pride in wiping that look off his brother’s face with his fist.

Archer turned around to face him, his voice rising. “What’s the matter, Weston? If it’s not me, it’ll be someone else.”

It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be anyone else. Not while Wes lived, breathed, and loved that lady. No one else would have her. No matter what he’d said to Hythe. He couldn’t bear it if she chose another.

The crowed twittered, nervous women whispering behind their fans and men making crass remarks under their breath. Wes heard it all. He scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration, wishing it was possible to tamp down the beast inside him.

“Gentlemen,” a quiet voice came from beside Wes’ shoulder. He looked down to find Lady Sophia scowling at them all. “What’s going on?” she hissed.

“It appears as though you have failed, my lady,” Archer taunted. “Once again, the Hadley brothers breach the bounds of propriety.” He bowed sarcastically in her direction. “You have outdone yourself in our training, sweetheart.”

Dash stormed across the room, looking like a great avenging beast bent on destruction. He outpaced Lady Madeline, who was still walking slowly in their direction. Only the fools headed toward them. The rest pulled back so that they had a wide circle of open space around them. Madeline stood on the outside of the circle and watched them with a curious stare.

Dash stormed into the circle, looking like he was ready to shake the whole lot of them by the scruffs of their necks. “Out,” he snarled, nodding toward the door.

“Can’t,” Archer said with a quick shake of his head. “I have a lovely lady waiting for my attention.” He turned toward Madeline and bowed lower than Wes had ever seen. His nose would hit the floor if he dropped any lower.

“This is not amusing,” Dash snarled.

“No, it’s not amusing at all,” a quiet voice said from the edge of the crowd. Madeline. Madeline had spoken. He hadn’t heard her voice in almost three weeks. And there she was, her dulcet tones stroking across his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“I’m sorry, Lady Madeline,” Wes said. “We were just leaving.”

“The devil we were,” Archer chuckled. “I plan to dance with the lady.” He tilted his head at Madeline. “If she’ll have me.”

She smiled softly at Archer. “Why not? Your brother doesn’t want me.”

Wes choked. That couldn’t be further from the truth. He wanted her more than he wanted air. More than he wanted sunshine. More than he wanted anything. More than his own life.

Dash wrapped a strong arm around Wes’ shoulders. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

With more strength than Wes knew he possessed, he disentangled himself from Dash’s grasp. He bowed at Lady Madeline. “I’m sorry to have disgraced myself once again.” Then he turned to leave. He would walk out under his own power, if it was the last thing he ever did.

But as he slipped into the throng of people, he heard her call out. “Weston Hadley,” she said crisply. He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut again because he couldn’t look at her. “Wes, please don’t walk away from me,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word. His eyes flew open and he spun to face her. Tears brimmed over her beautiful lashes, threatening to fall.

“Lady Madeline,” Wes began.

“Is that who I am to you now? That’s not what you called me when you held me in your arms,” she said, her voice ringing out in the quiet of the room like the bells at St. George’s. “That’s not what you called me when you were inside my…” Her voice trailed off as she laid a hand over her chest, smiled, and said, “heart.”

The ladies in the room began whispering behind their fans. Wes didn’t know what to do. She’d ruin herself. She’d ruin her future. She’d ruin her life. Wes looked at the Duke of Hythe who suddenly stood beside his daughter, his hand on her elbow. Thank God. His Grace would keep her from doing irreparable damage to herself.

“What are you doing, Madeline?” the duke asked, his voice low to keep other guests from hearing.

But she didn’t answer him. She just gazed at Wes. And the pause between her words became pregnant with expectation. He waited. Then he said to her father, “Perhaps you should take her to bed. She might be feverish.”

“The only person I want taking me to bed is you, Weston Hadley,” Madeline’s voice echoed through the room.

Nervous laughter from those assembled followed. The duke leaned down and asked, “Are you certain this is what you want?”

But she ignored him again. “Take me to bed, Wes,” Maddie asked softly, but loudly enough that everyone could still hear her. More laughter ensued. But it wasn’t humorous to Wes. Not at all.

“Well, when a lady asks for someone to take her to bed, and the object of her affection refuses to step up…” Archer said as he started toward Madeline.

Damn his jackass brother! Wes would kill him for sticking his snout in where it didn’t belong.

Wes turned and started toward Madeline. Then he stopped. His head warred with his heart.

But Madeline started to talk. She said her words loudly and crisply so they could be heard by one and all. “You see, everyone. What you don’t know is that Weston Hadley is my husband.” She took a dramatic breath. “But then he decided he didn’t want me after all, and he returned me to my father.” She reached for her father’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “And my father has done his best to end the marriage. And I have tried to end the way I feel about Mr. Hadley, but it seems to be an impossible task.”

“What are you saying, Madeline?” Wes asked from where he stood several feet from her. The two of them were the only ones in the center of the ballroom, as everyone else moved back.

“I’m saying I want to be your wife, Weston Hadley.” She raised her nose in the air. “And I want you to bite me, too.” She took another fortifying breath. “And I want you to hold me in your arms. I want you to tell me you love me again. I want you to keep me.” She smiled broadly. “I want you to do that thing you did, when you made me feel…” Her voice trailed off. “You were there. You remember.”

He remembered. He’d never forget the smell or taste of her.

“I want you beside me day and night. I want you to hold me while I sleep. I want to have your children.”

Was that what this was about? Was she forced to make this declaration because she was with child? Wes hadn’t even considered the ramifications. “Are you?” he breathed out.

“Not yet.” She shook her head. “But I want to be,” she softly.

“You don’t know what you’re saying…” Wes began.

She held up one finger. “On the contrary, I know exactly what I’m saying.”

“But you can’t,” he hedged. She couldn’t. Could she? Dare she? Would she?

“I do,” she said succinctly. Then she dropped to her knees in the middle of the ballroom. She held her hands up as though pleading. “Do you want me to beg you?”

“Get up, Madeline!” her father hissed. But she didn’t. She stayed there on her knees, probably getting her gown all dirty in her quest to… do what?

“You said if I wanted you to kiss me, all I had to do was ask.”

***

If he didn’t accept her soon, Maddie would be forced to rip her clothes off and stand there in the middle of the ballroom naked. She hadn’t realized until she’d gotten her monthly courses how disappointed she was not to be with child. It had come as a complete shock, the utter loss she felt when she’d realized she lost her only tie to Wes. He’d cut all the rest of the strings. What else was she to do?

She inhaled deeply, wondering if he would abandon her again. If he truly didn’t want her after all. “Wes?” she asked softly. “Will you kiss me?”

Wes sank down on his knees before her and took her face in his strong hands. He caressed her jaw with his thumb as he gazed at her, his eyes brimming with… tears? Certainly not. He coughed gently to clear his throat. “You’ve always been too good for me, Madeline,” he said.