Secret of the Wolf (9 page)

did not look as oversized on his lanky frame as she'd expected, nor did they detract

from his naturally elegant bearing
.

Or his handsomeness—though he was in need of a good shave. And a haircut. But the

longer hair and the reddish beard starting on his chin only gave his features a more

roguish appeal. That slight roughness, combined with his aristocratic air, created a most

intriguing combination

She cleared her throat sharply
.

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 59 of 455

"What are you doing out of bed?" she demanded. "I do not remember giving you

permission to wander about the house.”

He uncrossed his arms and stepped into the room. "You never did arrive with my

breakfast.”

"I am sorry. I shall see to it shortly.”

"I can manage it myself, if you'll point the way to the kitchen." He glanced at her father.

"I didn't mean to intrude, but I couldn't help overhearing

This is the elder Dr. Schell, I

presume?”

Positioning herself to block his view, Johanna stood protectively by Papa's bedside.

"Yes. Now, if you will kindly go back to your room—”

With flagrant disobedience he came closer, gazing at her father's face. "I'm very sorry,"

he said. His expression was serious, as if he truly meant it. "It must have been a terrible

loss for you.”

Was it possible that he had experienced such losses? Something had driven him to

drink. Every one of their patients had suffered; such suffering could lead to madness, or

make a mild case of insanity worse
.

"He is not dead," she said stiffly
.

"But he needs care, and you have the other patients." Quentin looked past the bed to

the window, with its view of the small vineyard. "This place has a certain serenity that

must benefit your residents a great deal. It would be a pity if you had to sell any more of

it.”

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 60 of 455

He'd come just a bit too close—close enough for the small hairs to rise on the back of

her neck. She moved nearer to the bed
.

"Eavesdropping is not the act of a gentleman, Mr. Forster." She lifted her chin. "How

much did you overhear?”

"Enough to know that you could benefit by an influx of capital." He looked about for a

chair and, finding none, leaned against the wall. "Earlier, we were discussing the

possibility of your treating my

propensity for excessive drinking. As it happens, I can

pay you well for such treatment. Enough, I believe, to help in your current

circumstances.”

Johanna's skin grew hot. So he had overheard something she'd meant no one, not even

her father, to know. And he spoke with such

such presumption, as if he couldn't

imagine her refusing his offer
.

"We are doctors. We can't turn away those who need our help." Papa had been

completely lucid when he spoke those words. He'd lived by them, and she believed in

them as much as he did. Even if Forster had been unable to pay, she would have

considered attempting treatment. But she hadn't decided. Now he was forcing her hand
.

"If you've any doubts," Quentin Forster said, "the money is in my room. Over one

thousand dollars in cash and coin.”

So much? She'd never counted it, of course. The sum was considerable from her

current perspective
.

"I won it quite honestly, in a game of cards." He looked up at her from beneath his

auburn lashes, unconsciously—or consciously—seductive
.

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 61 of 455

She turned her back on him and gazed out the window. He had made it extraordinarily

difficult for her to say no. The need for money was very real, for the sake of the Haven's

residents. With such an incentive, she could think of only one reason to turn him down
.

A personal reason. He made her uncomfortable, uncertain. In his presence, she felt a

little of her normally unshakable confidence waver. And, at the same time, she was

drawn to him, woman to man. He unsettled her, and nothing was nearly so dangerous

to a woman of science
.

It would not do, not if she was to be his doctor. That would have to be made very clear
.

"I could not charge you so much," she said, "nor promise a cure without further

consultation.”

"You haven't dealt with my particular brand of insanity.”

She glanced over her shoulder. "Inebriety is not always equivalent to insanity," she said.

"Do you claim another affliction?”

His face closed up, all the easy poise vanished. She'd seen that look before: Panic.

Denial. Fear. The sudden realization that he did not wish to uncover the secrets in his

own mind and heart—secrets he was not even aware existed
.

But no one was forcing him to stay. He was not, like the other residents, incapable of

living in the world. He might be at considerable risk to his health—even of death—but if

he chose to leave, she could not stop him
.

"I have treated many forms of insanity," she said. "Very seldom have we failed to see

some improvement. But the rules of conduct here are strict. No alcohol. You must get

along with the others. And you must also contribute to the daily work of the farm.”

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 62 of 455

You make it easy on yourself, Johanna, she thought. He's not the sort to remain

steadfast in the face of a challenge. Frighten him enough, and he will leave. He will not

be able to unsettle you any longer
.

Repulsed by her own cowardice, she faced him again. "Do you understand, Mr.

Forster? I will do my best to help you, but I can make no guarantees. I must retain the

right to decide if the treatment is not working. But I will not demand an unreasonable

fee—no matter how much I may be in need of funds. I do not ask for charity.”

The pinched look on his face cleared, and the tension of his mouth eased into a wry

smile. "You wouldn't. But you nearly have me fleeing in terror, Dr. Johanna. I wonder if

I'd rather face a herd of charging elephants.”

She found herself relaxing as well. "Have you ever faced a herd of elephants, Mr.

Forster?”

"Quentin," he corrected. "I've seen my share of elephants. Some were even real." He

stood up straight. "Are you afraid of me, Johanna?”

The question was startlingly direct and perfectly sober. He'd sensed her unease. Or

perhaps it was another warning

"Aside from the fact that you are a stranger, which in itself calls for caution, I've seen

nothing to fear in you.”

She didn't think she'd ever seen eyes so compelling. Beneath their veneer of laughter

was layer upon layer of ambiguity, a guardedness that might conceal any number of

darker emotions, just as he hid his fear
.

Finding and healing the source of that fear would be further proof of the Schell

technique's validity—possibly even substantiation of her own theory, if the opportunity to

test it presented itself in the course of his treatment. She could finally complete the

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 63 of 455

paper she and Papa had begun

and the payment she received from Quentin would

keep the Haven going for another few months, at least
.

"Well?" he asked. "Will you take on my case, Johanna?”

She folded her hands at the level of her waist and nodded briskly, as much to convince

herself as to answer him. "We shall begin work as soon as you've been introduced to

the others and it's been established that you will—”

"Fit in?" He grinned. "You'd be surprised just how adaptable I am.”

Somehow she wasn't in the least surprised. He seemed so at ease, in spite of his

obvious problems and the way he'd raved in the throes of his delirium tremens. It was

sometimes difficult to remember how very ill he'd been
.

He was a mystery, and like all scientists she could not resist such a paradox
.

"I would introduce you to my father, but as you see he is sleeping. He will not be very

communicative; it is a result of his attack.”

"I understand." Quentin came to the side of the bed and looked down at her father. His

mobile expression changed again—to one of real compassion. Of knowing
.

"I lost my own parents when I was fairly young," he said. "My grandfather raised me, my

twin sister, and my elder brother." His mouth twitched. "He was something of a tyrant.

Very strict.”

Johanna hadn't grown up under such conditions, but she'd seen the damage that could

be done to children in such households. "I'm sorry," she said
.

He shrugged. "Long ago. And I gave Grandfather as good as I got.”

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 64 of 455

"Were you often in trouble?”

"I'm that transparent, am I?" He chuckled. "Frequently. I was incorrigible, in fact. I doubt

that any figure in authority would be tempted to spare the rod in my case.”

Had he been beaten, then? "You were not

unloved.”

"I had my brother and my sister. They could be jolly good companions—but they were a

little more conventional. Braden often lectured me to be more upright and dependable."

He pulled a face. "Elder brothers, you know.”

She didn't; she'd been an only child, and often wondered what it would be like to have

siblings. But Quentin didn't speak as though his childhood experiences had contributed

to his drinking. That was something she wouldn't be able to determine until she put him

under hypnosis
.

Yes. She wanted quite urgently to know more about Quentin Forster, childhood and all
.

"Well," she said, "the others should be coming in from the garden and vineyard in an

hour or so. We generally do outside work in the mornings and early evenings." She

examined him critically. "Since you seem steady enough, I'll give you a brief tour of the

house, and then introduce you all around.”

"I look forward to it," he said. But the twinkle in his cinnamon eyes suggested that he

was much less interested in the other patients than he was in her
.

That was very likely to change soon enough
.

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 65 of 455

Whatever possessed you? Quentin had asked himself that question several times since

he'd made the impulsive and reckless decision to remain at the Haven
.

The deed was done now. And when he looked at Johanna, with that serious and oddly

attractive face that hid so much from the world, he remembered what had driven him to

it
.

Yes, driven. It certainly hadn't been an act of logic. But then again, so little of what he

did could be attributed to anything remotely like common sense
.

He'd told himself he should leave. He still could, none the worse for wear, if things

became complicated. But he believed that Johanna, alone of all people in the world, had

the ability to keep him away from the bottle—and from the consequences that he feared

came with it. As long as he didn't drink, he was in control
.

At the very least, Johanna would have his money for her good works. She deserved it

far more than he did
.

He sat on one of the two ancient horsehair armchairs in the room Johanna called the

parlor. It was the largest chamber in the house, scattered with mismatched chairs of

every size and design, a large central table and several smaller ones, shelves of books,

ancient daguerreotypes, an antique mirror that might have survived from better times,

and well-worn rugs on the wooden floor. He'd noticed at once that there were no real

breakables or fragile items on the shelves or tables—no china figurines, nor decorative

plates and delicate china—nothing that a patient of uncertain temperament might smash

or use as a weapon. The house, as embodied in this room, was worn, snug, and well

lived-in, with nothing of luxury but much of safety
.

The house matched Johanna herself. She was not beautiful, and her clothes were plain

and much-mended, but no one could doubt her sincerity or her complete acceptance of

herself and the world around her
.

Secret of the Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 03

Page 66 of 455

He'd already toured the roomy kitchen, where he'd been offered a late breakfast of

coffee, bread, and eggs, left by the housekeeper, Mrs. Daugherty. After the meal,

Johanna had shown him the smaller room she called her office. The remaining rooms