The Wolf's Pursuit (8 page)

Hunter gripped her elbow and pulled her
toward the dance floor, shouting to Montmouth, "Permission to waltz
with the fair lady?"

"Absolutely not!" Montmouth ground out.

Dominique elbowed him. Montmouth cursed and
finally gave a nod.

"Lovely." Hunter placed his hands on
Gwendolyn's body, nearly swearing as he did so. "I have half a mind
to punish you."

Gwen glared. "And I have half a mind to slap
you across the face."

"Pray tell, what is stopping you?" Hunter
crooned into her ear.

"I do not wish to touch you."

"Have you taken to lying now that you're a
spy?"

Gwen tensed in his arms. "Are you that
confident in your looks, your grace?"

"Not at all," Hunter answered honestly,
pulling her closer than what was considered appropriate. "I was
speaking of my skills in the bedroom, of course."

"I wouldn't know."

Hunter chuckled warmly, his lips nearly
touching her ear. "Would you like to?"

Gwen jerked back, her face flushed. "You're
making a fool of yourself."

"As are you." He assessed her coldly; she
squirmed in his arms. "The way I see it, every person in this room
is straining to hear our conversation. Alas, we are speaking in
hushed tones, so they cannot know what we speak of. But care to
guess what they do know?"

"Not really." She clenched her teeth. "But
I'm sure you'll tell me anyway."

"Good girl." Hunter chuckled and pulled her
body more tightly to his. "At this very moment, the ladies are
commenting on your blush, the way it covers your cheeks and dips
ever so naughtily down your neck into the deep canvas of your
breasts." Hunter hoped what he was doing would work, because if it
didn't, he was going to have to excuse himself and jump into the
Thames in order to cool his arousal.

Gwen gasped.

"The men, however, are another matter
entirely. You see, men notice the blush. That much is true. It
tells them that against popular gossip, you are in fact quite
innocent. And the way your eyes blaze tells them the rest."

"My eyes?"

"Yes."

The dance was nearing an end. Hunter guided
their steps to where she would be most visible by the ton.

"I don't understand. What do my eyes have to
do with anything?"

"They show your spirit. Your fire, but my
dear, they speak one language I fear every man in this room is just
begging to use with you."

She lifted an eyebrow.

He leaned in, gripping her body so she could
not run off, and whispered into her ear. "Sex. You look like
sex."

Gwen jerked away from him, nearly tumbling to
her bottom, righted her skirts, and slapped him across the
face.

People gasped.

Women began to gossip, and as expected, a few
women, ones he was sure had just given the girl the cut direct not
a week before, were huddling around her and telling her to stay
away from his evils.

Hunter rubbed his cheek and walked by a few
gentlemen.

One stopped him. "I say, what did you do to
make the lady so offended?"

"The lady did not care for my advances,"
Hunter admitted, appearing to look quite put out as he shook his
head and cursed. "I thought she was tainted, but it appears the
joke has been on all us young men. To think, she wants to marry!
And it has been proven, though you did not hear this from me, that
the lady herself is untouched."

"Untouched," another man whispered.

And much like wildfire, or a storm, or
perhaps a giant explosion taking place in the room, it was spread
that Gwen was entering into the marriage mart, and she was
completely pure.

Hunter walked off to a darkened corner and
exhaled.

"Well done," Wilkins said behind him.

Hunter did not turn around. Instead he nodded
his head just once and went in search of Gwen. By now she would be
exhausted, and he needed to watch her every move. The game had been
laid out, the pieces moved.

Wolf—

The only thing you'll be eating is your words
and perhaps any crumbs of humility I decide to throw your way! You
are a deceitful, horrible person! If I find myself in your arms
again before the week is out I will pull a pistol on your most
useful and favorite anatomical part!

–
Red

The man was either a genius or purely insane.
Men came in throngs from the ballroom's distant corners, each of
them expressing sudden interest in taking her for a ride in the
park or asking her opinion about some new poetry written by Byron.
Another asked her if she was free to marry as soon as the end of
the week!

At least now she was able to concentrate on
her targets.

Wilkins had sent her a note stating that the
following three men were suspected of treason.

Lord Trehmont, Sir Hollins, and Lord
Redding.

Men who, by all appearances, valued propriety
above all else.

But she knew their secrets.

Trehmont was in debt up to his ears, and to
some powerful people within the fallen French aristocracy. Meaning
they were finally calling out all the debt. But was he desperate
enough to betray his country? Or murder someone because of it?

Hollins was a young idiot who had more money
than sense. His desire was to buy himself a better title, but
nobody seemed to be willing to give him the time of day. It was
rumored he also enjoyed sexual escapades that were enough to make
any debutante, or woman for that matter, cringe. She could see him
killing someone. In fact, she could see him doing a lot of terrible
things in order to gain power.

And finally Redding. Unfortunately, she knew
nothing about him. Only that he was devastatingly handsome and
rumored to have grotesque scars from the war. Though one couldn't
see the scars by looking at him.

He still walked with a slight limp, but that
didn't keep females from chasing after him. The poor man often
resorted to hiding. He was akin to the last antelope at a dinner
party for lions.

With a sigh, Gwen squared her shoulders and
batted her lashes at the men surrounding her, each of them in her
mind a suspect.

She ignored most of the conversation,
allowing them to fuss about her and compliment her dress. The smile
felt frozen across her face as each and every one of the men,
around ten of them, continued to pay her false compliments, all the
while leering at her breasts and panting after her.

Gwen wasn't vain enough to think it was her
looks that gained her acceptance, but the fact that the great Wolf
had declared her pure and she had slapped away his advances.
Men.

After being asked if she was receiving
callers in the afternoon, to which she replied yes, she decided to
remove herself from the situation.

"Gentlemen, it is dreadfully hot, is it not?"
With a flourish, she pulled out her fan and began dramatically
fanning her face.

"Well then." Trehmont cleared his throat and
stood directly in front of her. "It seems all the lady needs is a
brisk walk into the cool night air with a willing gentleman." He
reached for her free hand, but was slapped away by another
intruder.

"Terribly sorry, Trehmont, but it seems the
lady has already promised to take the air with me." Hunter's voice
was like silk compared to the rest of the men's.

"As the lady wishes." Trehmont grimaced,
showing his vast irritation. Gwen thought it a kindness that she
would talk to him at all, considering the circumstances. It would
be a trial to even speak with the man longer than a few minutes,
let alone let him touch her person.

She shivered at the thought as Hunter led her
toward the outskirts of the ballroom.

"Trembling beneath my touch, my sweet?"

Gwen rolled her eyes but kept her smile
firmly in place as they passed curious onlookers. "Yes, it seems
you've caught me, Hunter. Your touch turns me to liquid, your kiss
makes my knees weak, please, let us marry and be done with this
whole charade."

Hunter sighed. "I leave you for five minutes
and the dove turns into a shrew."

"Are you always this poetic?"

Hunter clenched her arm tighter as he led her
toward the doors to the balcony. "Always."

Gwen smirked and stole a sideways glance at
the man. His golden eyes were trained on the door, his perfect
devil-may-care smile in place, but he was rigid with tension.

She cleared her throat. "You should have
given me more time with the gentlemen. I need to be in their
confidence if I am to find out their secrets."

Hunter snorted and finally looked at her.
"Believe me, they were within seconds of blurting every blasted
secret in the known universe." Why did he sound so irritated?

"You need to let me do my job."

He smirked. "And you, my dear, need to allow
me to do mine." He pushed through the door and led her out into the
cool night air. "Besides, it is our job to leave them a little
trail of bread crumbs." His eyes gazed at her face and then lower.
"Very attractive little crumbs."

"Bread crumbs?" Gwen repeated, ignoring the
shiver his look gave her. He was her partner. Perhaps if she kept
chanting that over and over again, she would forget his kiss. And
the way his golden eyes caressed her skin.

"Why, yes." Hunter released her arm and
pulled out a cheroot. "Give a squirrel a basket full of nuts and it
will gorge itself or worse yet, covet the nuts and no longer search
for more."

"Nuts? Now you're comparing men to nuts?"

Hunter scoffed as he took a long draw of the
cheroot. "Absolutely not. I'm comparing men to squirrels."

"Oh."

"You, my dear, are the nut."

"Oh?" Gwen had to clench her hands behind her
back to keep from lunging after the man.

"Why, yes." Hunter blew out another puff of
smoke and grinned. Blast, how she hated that grin. She looked away
as he continued to speak, his chest puffed out much like a peacock
when mating. "When men or animals, for that matter, are in pursuit,
they are easily bored and distracted. We need to make this game a
challenge."

"So now I'm part of a game." Gwen looked up
at Hunter just as he threw down his cheroot and turned his full
male arrogance upon her. Shocking that God didn't feel the need to
strike the man down for his petulance.

"All women are. I'm just making it more
interesting for the male sex, and easier on you."

Gwen pasted a sweet smile on her face and
walked toward Hunter, stopping when she was inches away from his
devilishly handsome lips. "So, is it my sex that causes you to
offer this extra help? Or your kind heart?"

"Your sex." He nodded.

"Because you have no heart," she
concluded.

"There's that." He leaned in and sniffed her
hair. Why the devil was he sniffing her? "But there is also the
distinct truth about women that men find impossible to resist."

"And what's that?" Gwen breathed in the scent
of his breath, a mixture of port and smoke, so alluring she almost
closed her eyes.

"The chase, my dear. All men, all animals,
all hunters need the chase. And sweetheart, we are in the hunt of
our lives."

"And you?" she challenged, placing a hand on
his firm shoulder. "Your very name assumes the title hunter."

He swallowed and took a step back as her arm
fell to her side. "Never mistake me for the hunter, when I very
well could be the wolf." He nodded and offered his arm. "That is
the first rule of spying, Gwen. We are all wolves in sheep's
clothing. Every last one of us could be guilty of treason. It is
our job to find the wolves without killing the sheep."

His eyes pierced hers, looking directly
through her almost as if he suspected her of being a wolf. Which
was utterly ridiculous.

The gravity of the situation rested quite
heavily on her shoulders as she whispered, "And what if we kill
some sheep in the process?"

"If you're as good as you say you are, Red,
that won't happen."

Red—

How is it that you are familiar with… how did
you word it? Oh yes, my favorite anatomical part. Pray tell, are we
discussing my hands?

—
Wolf

Gwen studied Hunter's face. A heaviness
seemed to descend upon him. "Have you lost many sheep?"

Hunter swallowed and looked down. "Some."

"I'm sorry." Gwen reached out to touch his
arm, but he jerked away and laughed.

"Don't be. It is all part of the work we do.
Besides, sheep are stupid. They are among God's silliest
creatures." Hunter gave her a silly grin and shrugged. "Perhaps it
is why we are compared to them in the Bible. All sheep go
astray."

Gwen opened her mouth to speak but was
interrupted by a male voice.

"I was wondering when you would make your
sorry presence known."

Hunter rolled his eyes and turned to the man.
"Lord Eastbrook, how lovely to see you after all these years."

"Nine." The man pointed at Hunter. "Nine
blasted years, friend."

"Do not call me friend," Hunter snapped.

Eastbrook shook his head. "What has happened
to you? Do you not realize you have a responsibility to this
family?"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Spare me the
lecture, cousin. It's my business and mine alone why I've
returned."

"He wants to see you. He has something for
you."

Hunter cursed fluently and leaned over the
balcony. Gwen wasn't sure if she should leave or stand there like a
fool.

"Eastbrook." The man stepped out of the
shadows and held out his hand to her. "I know it isn't at all
proper to introduce myself without proper introductions being made.
I know your brother-in-law quite well."

"And that makes you harmless?" Gwen lifted an
eyebrow in question.

Eastbrook smirked. "Absolutely not. Forgive
the intrusion." His golden hair shimmered in the moonlight. He
truly was quite handsome, but looked nothing like Hunter.
"Tomorrow, cousin. He would like to see you tomorrow."