The Wolf's Pursuit (17 page)

"Good for you." She scowled.

He chuckled. "My grandfather has been
collecting evidence against our three suspects for quite some time.
I was reading through his notes this afternoon and came upon the
smuggling bit, wanted to have a bit of fun with Trehmont and see
how he reacted."

Gwen stopped and laughed. "The grandfather
who hates you?"

Hunter growled. "Yes. From hence forward, let
us refer to him as the one who hates me. Makes one feel so
valued."

"Sorry." Gwen nodded to another passing
couple. "What else did the evidence say?"

"Apparently, Lainhart has been doing some
research of his own. He's been having Wilkins, Trehmont, Redding,
and Hollins followed for the past ten years."

"But why? And why has it been recorded? And
why Wilkins?"

"That, my dear, I believe I can answer.
Lainhart invented many of the codes used for the ciphers."

"So?"

Hunter looked down at the ground, his
shoulders slumped. "So, my dear, the only men in the world who know
how to decipher the codes — the only men privy to that information
— are the ones we are investigating. Surely Wilkins told you
this?"

"Th-the mole." Gwen paced in front of him.
"The mole is one of the three and has been leaking top secret
information to the French? Locations of units, battle plans… Am I
right?"

"Whoever said sheep weren't intelligent?"

"Funny, I thought I was a nut."

"Oh, silly me. I had forgotten already."
Hunter winked. "And yes, you are correct in your assumptions. It is
imperative that we discover who is selling this information."

Gwen chewed her lip and nodded. It truly was
up to her to discover which of the men were deciphering the codes
for the French. The only way to figure it out was to either break
into their homes or follow them. There was of course seduction.
Many a man would tell secrets for sex, wouldn't they? But was she
truly willing to give that part of herself for the greater
good?

Her thoughts troubled her as Hunter led her
to his ducal carriage.

"Tonight, we shall discuss matters in
earnest, where we will not be watched. I will, of course, make my
return debut at the masquerade, sweep you off your feet, and take
you into a darkened corner as is my custom. And you will, of
course, sigh longingly into my chest, and people will assume I am
trying to seduce you. It will be the perfect ploy so we may talk."
He chuckled as if what he was saying wasn't ridiculous and as if
the entire world wasn't crashing down around them. Why did
everything have to be laced with sarcasm? Could he never be real?
And if he lacked the ability to truly be himself, how could she
ever trust him?

The carriage stopped in front of her
house.

"Mary, you may go inside and see to having a
pot of tea ready for when I return. It seems his grace and I have a
few things to discuss." She waited for her maid to exit the
carriage and turned her full attention to Hunter. "So that is all?"
Gwen said. "You refuse to explain to me what will happen to
Trehmont? Why you finally decided to visit your grandfather after
all these years?"

Hunter's lips parted revealing a shy smile.
"Apologies, you lost me when you mentioned Trehmont. Suffice to
say, all I could think about was that silly hat. It shall get
rained on, no doubt about it."

"Hunter!" Gwen raised her voice. "Be serious
for once in your life."

He moved so fast she didn't have time to
brace herself as he gripped her arm and pulled her against him.
"You know nothing about my life."

Gwen trembled beneath his touch. "I know more
than you think."

"Enlighten me." His teeth clenched. The
muscles in his face tensed as if they too were holding their
breath.

"You aren't as stupid as you appear."

"Bravo. It seems you just paid me a
compliment, however passive-aggressive it may have been."

He swallowed and pulled back but Gwen wasn't
ready for the conversation to be over with. "How can I trust you,
really trust you, when you hide behind a mask, even with me."

"I have no idea to what you are referring."
He looked away, a smirk on his lips. "Kindly exit the carriage, I
have an appointment."

"Not until you tell me why."

"Why?"

"Why are you like this? What happened to
you?"

Hunter cursed and looked down at his hands.
"I was late."

Gwen waited for him to elaborate and when he
didn't, she was at a loss for how to respond.

"Go." Hunter's voice trembled. "I shall see
you tonight."

Confused, Gwen did as he said, but vowed to
herself that she would find out what he tried so hard to hide from.
Being late? The answer made no sense whatsoever. But then again,
Hunter rarely made sense.

Tonight. Tonight she would use everything
she'd learned as a spy to find out his secret.

Why was it that when she thought of seducing
the Wolf, warmth spread through her body? Perhaps he was a risk
worth taking — perhaps with him, she could give that part of
herself. For regardless of how he saw himself, to her he was not
only a worthy opponent, but the type of man worth fighting for.

Red—

Wolves are by nature very intelligent
creatures. Take for example the fact that they are feared amongst
humans and beasts alike! My dear, if as a wolf, I do not cause you
to tremble with that same fear, perhaps you will tremble with
something else entirely when our partnership is through. One can
only hope, and you, my dear, give me great cause to hope.

—
Wolf

After his exchange with Gwen, Hunter
immediately went to Wilkins' residence. The house looked dead as
usual, dead except for the fact that Hollins was exiting in a
hurry, a note clenched in his hand.

It would have seemed normal, but it was not
the correct day for any sort of code to be transferred; that is,
not unless it was an emergency, and they were losing horribly, and
Hunter would have been the first to know that.

Leaving his carriage, he followed Hollins
down the street. After a few blocks or so, Hollins took a turn and
disappeared.

Fantastic.

He searched the area for a while but found
nothing. With a curse, he walked back to the house and knocked.

Wilkins himself answered. "Hunter, my boy,
how is the investigation? Did you need something?"

Wilkins' demeanor was so vastly different
than before that at first Hunter thought he was foxed. "Er, yes, I
was going to continue my investigation and the trail has lead me to
Hollins. Have you seen him recently?"

With a laugh, Wilkins shook his head. "No. It
is very rare for me to see Hollins when there are no codes
scheduled for transfer."

"That is what I thought. Well, thank
you."

Hunter walked back to his carriage more
confused than he'd been in a while. Wilkins was clearly lying,
Hollins was delivering notes on the wrong day, and he still had to
go to a blasted masquerade that evening!

****

Hunter waited in the shadows. True to his
word, he'd dressed as a wolf. Donning all black was not stretching
his current style too much, but wearing a cape truly did have its
advantages. It was covered in fur and made him feel like an
oversized rug. He also had a sneaking suspicion that, if he stood
near the wall that was currently painted a ghastly brown color, he
blended in quite well.

His eyes greedily searched for Gwen.

Hah! Gwen. The same woman who caused him so
much emotional turmoil, he had nearly run his horse into a tree
during his afternoon ride. After their discussion in the carriage,
he wanted nothing more than to take the first ship out of port and
find himself in a foreign country.

She could not get too close.

He would not allow it.

Everything he touched seemed to wither away
and die. And everyone he ever loved left him.

Trusting a woman was akin to inviting death
into his life again, and though he hadn't a care for his own soul,
he would not stand by and be responsible for Gwen losing hers.

He circled the ballroom twice, had his cape
caught underneath at least four different slippers, all belonging
to females who looked as if they wanted to devour him, and drank
two glasses of wine.

All before he found her.

Had he been holding anything, he would have
dropped it.

Trouble. Her entire costume bespoke trouble.
If that costume was true to a shepherdess, well, he would eat his
cape. Fur and all.

Gwen's fluid movements caught him off guard.
He tried to clear his throat, but found it was too dry, due in part
to the fact that his mouth was gaping open.

Well, at least he was breathing.

Though he did have an inkling that his heart
had in fact stopped around ten seconds ago.

"Gwen," he croaked.

Her hair was piled high above her head,
giving him a delightful view of her neck and high cheekbones. Her
costume, while all white, had him forgetting his name.

The dress was by all standards proper, except
for the fact that her sleeves fell effortlessly below her
shoulders. Exposing so much skin his eyes hurt.

To stare at her was certain blindness. For
everywhere he looked, he saw pure white skin, skin that had never
been touched by any man, skin that invited him in by its very
essence.

He reached out to touch her creamy white
shoulder, but was immediately hit with a cane.

"Ah, the shepherd's crook. I forgot." He
rubbed his shoulder where Gwen had tapped him.

They both wore masks, but hers did nothing to
hide the beauty of her eyes, crystal blue eyes looking directly
through him. Perhaps he should avoid staring at them lest he become
entranced in their spell.

She hooked her arm into his. "Now, where
shall we do this?"

Hunter tripped and cursed. "Sorry, the cape
has a mind of its own." He looked away and rolled his eyes, quite
certain that he had, in fact, just blamed his inability to walk in
a straight line on an inanimate object.

Hunter touched his own mask to make sure it
was still secure. "Now, what exactly did you have a mind to do?" He
pulled at his cravat as it choked him even more, and waited.

"Our little talk, of course. I wish to know
what you know. No more secrets."

"Dance with me," he said, quickly pulling her
into his arms.

Soon they were matched up for a quadrille.
"Really, your grace, must you be so dense?"

The man to Hunter's left coughed.

When he and Gwen touched hands again he
whispered, "Have a care, we are in public."

"Thank you for reminding me."

Hunter nodded emphatically, and took a step
back only to join her once more.

"Had you not reminded me," Gwen continued, "I
would have accosted you where you stand for being such an
idiot."

"Tell me," Hunter murmured as they turned.
"Would that have been before or after you kissed me?"

Gwen gasped and stepped back.

Amused, Hunter winked and continued the
dance.

When their hands met again, however, Gwen
made a point to step on his toes harder than one ought, earning an
earsplitting curse from him.

Ladies gasped.

Gentlemen chuckled, but the dance
continued.

The minute it ended, Hunter grabbed Gwen's
elbow and led her down the hall and up the back stairway.

Without speaking, he went to the first door
and ushered her in, nearly pushing her to the ground in the
process. "Is this a game to you?"

"Of course not!" Gwen leaned against her
crook. Fire blazed behind those icy blue eyes. "I am your partner!
If you keep things from me, how am I supposed to help?"

"I should ask you the same thing." Hunter
said, his voice cool and detached.

"You. Are. Impossible. I do not even see why
you are so special. What makes you the great Wolf of Haverstone?
You haven't done a thing! While I've been thrust upon society like
a tart!"

"Sweetheart, please do not compare yourself
to such delicacies. At least tarts do not have fangs."

"Wolves have fangs."

"Believe me, I know." Hunter tilted his head
to the side. "What is it you desire?"

"I want you to be real."

"And yet I stand before you, flesh and blood.
I admit, you have me confused." Even as he said the words, he felt
himself pale, felt the blood drain from his face. She asked too
much of him. Women always did.

"For once." Gwen swallowed and walked toward
him cautiously. "Leave the Wolf behind, take off the mask. Allow me
to see you."

He cursed. "Why?"

"Because you are asking me to blindly trust a
lie."

"And if the lie is better than the truth?
What will you do?"

"Then I will have no choice but to trust the
man."

"And the beast within?"

Gwen sighed. "Him as well."

It was one of those moments Hunter wished he
could run away from. He could count on his one hand how many he had
had in his lifetime. And they all had to do with his job as a spy
and his role as a failed husband. They were moments that when one
was held at gunpoint, one's treacherous mind replayed. Telling you,
if only, and what you should have said, what you should have
done.

With shaking hands, Hunter slowly reached up
and pulled the mask away from his face.

"They are a joke, you know." He tucked the
mask into his pocket and faced her head on. Allowing her to see the
man few ever saw anymore.

"What are?"

"The idea of masks."

Gwen reached up and touched his face. He
closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist.
She gasped. "Why is that?"

"I tell myself it hides reality, when in
fact, I lost touch with reality long ago. The mask and I are one
and the same, never to return to the shell of a man I was before. I
am the Wolf, the Wolf is I, and Hunter… he died ten years ago."