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Authors: Rebecca Kelley

The Wedding Chase (21 page)

BOOK: The Wedding Chase
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“There you are again giving me lessons in propriety.” She eyed him warily. “You need not sit on my lap.”

Wolfgang laughed. “Perhaps I’ll sit on your lap until I’m sure you won’t try to get up.”

“I will not get up.”

“I’m not convinced.” He pushed his hip more firmly against her hip, wedging her into the pillows. “Now, why do you need to talk to me?”

“This is very awkward.” She closed her eyes, averting her face. “I need to request your help.”

“Request away.” He flashed her a broad smile. “I’m always at your service.”

Zel opened her eyes, piercing him with a hard, metal-flecked stare. “Be quiet and listen, this is difficult enough without you taunting me.”

Wolfgang met her glare silently, looking deeply into those tip-tilted eyes. Eyes that could belong to a cat or an elf. He swallowed another chuckle, certain that at this moment she would be displeased with either image.

“This is all your fault anyway.” She challenged, while he continued his stoicly soulful look. “You took the last of Robin’s money at the gambling house, his last chance to come about. Now the creditors are calling in his notes. If we do not find the money immediately he will be in debtors’ prison before the week is out.” She waited for his reply, but he continued to quietly regard her. Her voice rose half an octave. “You have ruined me. I could not make a decent marriage now if I was the queen of Egypt.”

Wolfgang couldn’t stop that telltale twitching at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her anger, some of it was well justified. But she looked so damn appealing when she was furious. And he wanted badly to kiss her. He sighed. He’d help her first and save the kissing for later.

“Do not dare laugh at me!” Zel positively raged now, as much as one can rage reclining on lush Chinese cushions, while trying to keep as far from her tormentor as possible. “If you had any honor at all, you would buy his notes!”

“I’ll buy them tomorrow—”

“I have no idea why I ever thought to ask you for help.… You … what?”

“I said I’ll buy them.”

“Thank heavens, I knew you would help.” She smiled, with no small amount of bewilderment glazing her eyes, and took his hand, squeezing his fingers in her own.

“Rrrowrr.” Hecate appeared suddenly at his elbow on the settee back, hair on end and back arched, eyeing Zel as the mistress of the house would eye any other female who dared to breach her realm. Zel gasped and jumped, nearly toppling Wolfgang from the sofa. The cat held her balance, claws gripping the upholstery, golden eyes never leaving Zel.

“What is that?” Zel leaned into Wolfgang, eyes wide and glued to the battle-ready Hecate.


That
is my cat.”

“Cat! That is a huge beast straight from the jungles.”

“Hecate, I believe you have been insulted.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the only call the haughty feline ever deigned to answer.

“Hecate. Goddess of the dark of the moon.” Zel shifted, stiffly, still watching the cat. “Witch. Sorceress.”

“Don’t listen to her, Hecate, now she’s attempting to turn your head with flattery.” Wolfgang clicked again and the cat leaped over Zel, plopping onto his lap. Her long, gray coat had flattened, diminishing her still considerable size. Wolfgang scooped the animal into his arms, one hand stroking her silky head, her purr rumbling against his chest. “Hecate is no more ferocious than that horse you call a dog. Pet her, be friends.”

Zel gingerly laid back on the pillows, raising a tentative hand, which he grasped, pulling it toward the cat. Hecate hissed, a soft, sibilant warning. Zel growled, tugging her hand free.

“Girls, excuse me, women, can’t we learn to get along?”

“Captain.” McDougall’s form filled the doorway. He showed in the short, balding physician, whose unusually dishelved appearance bespoke his haste. “Dr. Evers.”

Wolfgang rose, cat still perched on his arm, and took the
doctor’s thin hand with his free one. “Thank you for coming.” He nodded dismissal to McDougall. “Keep the coach waiting. Dr. Evers, this is Miss Fleetwood. She was attacked by footpads outside my home.”

“Another attack?”

Wolfgang flashed a swift warning, effectively silencing the other man. “She received blows to her ribs and jaw. I believe nothing is broken.”

“Miss Fleetwood, please remain on the cushions.” Dr. Evers pulled a chair next to her as she settled back into the pillows. He took her jaw gently in his delicate fingers, turned her head, then rubbed roughly along the bruise. She groaned, yanking free of his hand. “Sorry, but I had to check the bone. It appears fine. My lord, you must leave. Miss Fleetwood will need to disrobe to enable me to examine her ribs.”

“I’ll stay.”

“Indeed you will not.” Zel frowned at Wolfgang, then addressed the doctor. “Please have a blanket brought, and we will dispense with this quickly.”

Wolfgang put the cat down and rang for Mrs. Soames. “You need not disrobe completely. He only needs access to your chest.”

“I will need you to lower your gown enough to remove your corset.” The doctor looked to Wolfgang rather than Zel for an answer.

“She doesn’t wear a corset.” He surveyed the smaller man, unwilling to leave him alone with Zel, displeased at the idea of him seeing or touching any part of her. Wolfgang shook his head. Hounds of hell! What was wrong with him? The man was a doctor.

Mrs. Soames’s square bulk hovered at the door. “My lord?”

“Mrs. Soames, bring a blanket, then assist Miss Fleetwood.” The gray-haired woman tipped her head and hurried from the room.

Dr. Evers now addressed Zel. “Do you have any pain?”

“Yes, my jaw hurts, but it hurts here too.” She indicated her chest below her left breast.

When Mrs. Soames returned with the blanket, Wolfgang led the doctor from the room, Hecate winding around his ankles. He glanced back at Zel. “I will send the doctor back in a few minutes.” Zel nodded as he shut the door. He ushered the little man into his study. The room was dimly lit by a few candles scattered about the room. “May I offer you a brandy?”

“Yes.” Evers sank into a deep chair. “Northcliffe, what really happened?”

Wolfgang walked to a carved teak side table and poured the amber liquid into a glass. “You surmised correctly. I was attacked again. Miss Fleetwood leaped to my rescue, pummeling the villains with her reticule.”

“You surely jest?” A half smile hovered at Evers’s lips.

Handing the doctor the drink, Wolfgang grinned. “Oh no, she fears nothing, certainly not a footpad double her size.” He poured a few fingers of brandy into another glass, astonished at the note of pride in his voice.

“But she knows nothing of the other attacks on you?” Evers surveyed Wolfgang speculatively, sipping at his drink. “Who is she to you?”

“You may be my physician, but you have no business delving into my private life.” He downed the liquid in one swallow.

“Did I strike a soft spot?” Evers’s black eyes seemed to miss nothing.

“She’s a friend. You may return and complete the examination.” He splashed more brandy in the snifter, then slipped into a chair, Hecate settling on his lap. “I’ll remain here until you finish.”

Why had he so easily agreed to buy young Fleetwood’s notes? Was it guilt, philanthropy, desire, or an ungodly combination of each? He stroked the cat, nursing the drink and
his thoughts until he heard the library door open. He caught Evers in the hall. “What took so long? Is she badly injured, after all?”

“Miss Fleetwood’s rib may have a slight fracture. I cannot tell for sure, so I thought it wise to wrap her chest. I’ll call at her home day after tomorrow.” Evers smiled. “Get her to reduce her activities for at least a week. She’ll stay home until that bruise heals, won’t she?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “I gave her some laudanum for the pain, but she’s as stubborn a patient as you and does not seem inclined to use it. I expect you to take better care of her.”

“She’s not mine to take care of.” Hecate jumped free, as Wolfgang escorted Evers down the hall. “I’ll see you to the carriage.”

With the doctor on his way, Wolfgang quietly reentered the library, eyes on Zel as she lay motionless on the settee, long, dark lashes fanning her pale cheeks, her face very young.

She stirred when he lowered himself onto the chair Evers had pulled near her. “I must go. Please call me a hack.”

“I said I’ll take you home, but after we talk.” Leaning forward, he took her hand in his. “I’ll have my man of affairs buy your brother’s notes tomorrow. But first I’ll call at your home to receive a full accounting.”

Zel nodded. “I will have the names and amounts ready for you.” She turned her head to meet his eyes. “What are your terms?”

“Terms?”

“Of course, terms.” Her voice rose a few notes. “You cannot just give us money.”

“I can’t?” He smiled at her impatience.

“We will pay you back if it takes the rest of our lives.” A small fire backlit her eyes as she pulled free her hand.

“It might.” He frowned, ready for a fight over his next words. “But I do insist on handling your money.”

“You wish to manage all our money?” Zel’s eyes narrowed, her mouth tight.

“Yes, anything that comes in or goes out will do so through myself and my man of affairs.” He had her full attention now, bruised jaw and rib momentarily forgotten. “I intend to have your brother trained in proper money management.”

“But I have my own income.” She moved on the pillows, gasped, and clutched her ribs. Wolfgang hovered over her but she waved him away. “Are you sure that doctor knows his business? It hurts worse now than before he examined me.”

“You’re noticing the pain more. You were stunned earlier.” Wolfgang grasped her pointed little chin between his thumb and forefinger. “That bruise is darkening rapidly.” He released her chin, winking at her with his own faintly discolored eye. “We have matching wounds. Mine’s just a bit yellow.”

Zel scanned his face. “And nearly gone. But I believe mine was more nobly obtained.”

“Touché, Gamine.”

“Gamine?” She stiffled a smile. “You are too familiar. And I told you earlier, I am not at all elflike.”

Wolfgang laughed, staring at her until her pale face flushed bright pink. “I’m pleased to see your color return.” He glanced about the room. “Where’s the laudanum Evers gave you?”

Zel gestured toward a corner table. “I will not take it.”

“You’ll take it before you leave.” He strode to the table and grasped the bottle. “Don’t be so stubborn.” Turning back to her, he pulled out the stopper, waving it threateningly. “You won’t leave until you take it. You’ll need it to sleep.”

“I will do fine without it.”

“We’ll battle over the laudanum later.” He dropped into
the chair beside her again. “You said you have your own income. Who handled it and the family finances?”

“I handle the family’s income.”

“Not effectively, if your brother is on his way to debtors’ prison.”

“I have done the best I can.” She spoke softly but distinctly. “I have not always been able to lay my hands on the money. Most is directed back into the estate by the executor, any my father gets is gone the moment it touches his fingers.” She looked fixedly at the ceiling. “Being a woman I could not ensure that the money came directly to me. Robin and I have small incomes from my mother’s father. But Robin’s, like Father’s, goes to the gaming tables. My income has often been the sole support of the family.”

“Forgive me.” Wolfgang tapped his foot against the sofa leg and toyed with the medicine bottle. “I’m sure you handled the money as well as humanly possible. But as you said, a woman’s monetary control can be easily circumvented. I intend to get agreements in writing that all Fleetwood money goes through me. Every expenditure will be documented and justified, and a certain amount will be earmarked to pay me for the loan.”

“So I cannot buy so much as a ribbon without your approval?”

Wolfgang grinned. “Nary a chemise or petticoat.”

“I do not like this.”

He leaned forward. “But you’ll agree to it.”

Zel sighed deeply. “I suppose if Father and Robin sign over their incomes to you, you will have more control than I could ever hope to have. I cannot afford to disagree.” She continued, her voice so low she appeared to be talking to herself. “This is all happening too easily. What about interest?”

“I do have one condition.” He laughed at her moan. “I would request a favor of you in lieu of interest.”

“A favor?” Her mouth tightened. “What favor?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Wolfgang paused before meeting her gaze. “But I promise it won’t be anything you can’t do.”

“Fine, we will work it out later.” She looked oddly relieved. It was his turn to think this was happening too easily.

“Now you’ll take your laudanum and I’ll take you home.” He stood, pushing the chair back noisily. “Do you need a little tea or brandy?”

“No, just get me a glass and I will drink it straight.”

“Brave woman. I’m glad you decided not to fight me. It would have been a bit awkward to force the stuff down your throat.” Wolfgang took the vial, poured a small amount into a goblet, and handed it to her. “Bottoms up.”

Zel drank quickly and pushed herself off the cushions, snorting indelicately. “I do not know which is worse, the medicine or the pain.”

He took the goblet, placing it and the vial on the table, then helped her to her feet. “The coach should be back now, but first we must seal our bargain.”

“Oh?” She surveyed his face with narrowed eyes.

“With a kiss, of course.”

Zel laughed, then groaned. “You can give me a little kiss if you keep your hands to your sides.”

“Then you’ll have to kiss me.”

She leaned forward and pecked his cheek. “There.”

“No. That won’t do. I want a real kiss. Put your hands on my shoulders and kiss my lips.” Seeing her hesitation, he added, “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Her hands went slowly to his shoulders.

“Now that doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Zel shook her head. Standing on tiptoe, she met his lips with a pressure both gentle and firm. Expecting her to pull away immediately, Wolfgang felt a wave of pleasure when she softly nibbled at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t move or breathe as her hands slid up his neck and into his hair where it hung loose at his nape. A shudder coursed through
him when her tongue touched his lower lip. She stopped, stepping backward, hands falling to her sides. Her voice was low and shaky. “You are impossible.”

BOOK: The Wedding Chase
10.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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