The Wolf's Pursuit

  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.

  Chapter Eighteen

  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.

&nbs
p; 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."

  "Why?"

  "That, my dear, is the question. Why? Why live when death of one's heart and soul is so much less painful? For if I return to that place, I die all over again, and I'm too selfish to experience death twice."

  "Now you speak in riddles." Gwen brushed the hair away from his forehead and kissed his chin.

  "I speak in truths. The man everyone knows as the Duke of Haverstone ceased existing as a person the day he watched his other half, his soul mate, die in his arms."

  For a moment, Hunter couldn't believe he had actually said all of that aloud, but he had no time to think. Voices interrupted his thoughts, so without pause he pulled Gwen behind the drapes and closed them. They were trapped between the balcony and the room, nothing but a bit of material hiding them and their costumes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wolf—

  I would not hold my breath if I were you. And if I've given you false hope, I sincerely apologize. My intention was to give you Hades. Of course they both start with h so you can see my confusion. Apologies.

  —Red

  Gwen tried to calm her breathing as she heard the door open. The hushed voices grew louder as the footsteps approached the curtains and stopped directly in front.

  "I always hated this house." The man sighed and touched the curtains directly in front of Gwen's face. Her breath hitched as Hunter drew her closer to his body. She could feel every hard-planed muscle tense against her.

  "Ah, Redding, do stop complaining. You are not the first man to despise these masquerades or this house. The decorations are less than to be desired. This much is true, old friend."

  Redding? Old friend?

  "Hollins, we are not, nor have we ever been, friends."

  "Partners?" Hollins laughed. "Let us be partners then, for I believe I have some information you may find… interesting."

  "Interesting how?" Redding sounded bored.

  "Do you remember when you asked me a few months ago if anything was amiss at the War Office?"

  "Of course." Redding scoffed. "It was not long after that that we became partners, as you call it."

  "Precisely." Hollins cleared his throat. "I've made a new code. One that we will begin using immediately, starting this week, but I need you to become familiar with it before it is sent out. That way if I die, you will be able to continue in my place."

  Silence, and then the feet shifted in front of Gwen and walked away. She exhaled and waited.

  "Morbid but necessary," Redding said. "Well, what is it we are trying to communicate to the soldiers?"

  "That, I cannot tell you just yet."

  "Then what can you tell me?"

  A few minutes went by and then Redding said, "I understand. I will meet you then."

  Footsteps echoed across the floors and then the door clicked shut. Gwen peered around the curtain and saw that the room was empty.

  "That was close," Hunter said from behind her, and then with a thud she fell to the floor as he pushed her out of the way.

  Gwen opened her mouth to yell, but Hunter was on his hands and knees in front of the fireplace, where a piece of paper burned brightly.

  "Help me," he ordered, as he pulled the paper from the fire and stomped on it. Gwen knelt down to look at it.

  "I am sorry." She shook her head. "I cannot decipher it."

  Hunter turned pale and cursed. "That is because it is in code."

  ****

  That following afternoon loomed. Gwen dreaded her meeting with Redding. Especially considering he was more than likely the man they were looking for. All signs pointed to him and Hollins. Then again, Trehmont was just as slippery. But he hadn't made an appearance since Hunter called him out.

  Truly it all gave her a headache. One could not simply call Bow Street upon suspicion of a crime. They needed evidence, and she had no idea how to gain any, short of waiting for one of the men to of course take a false step.

  She pricked her finger on her needlepoint and sighed. Redding would arrive any moment, for he had specifically said that he would walk with her during the fashionable hour.

  Oh joy.

  The Montmouth butler, James, entered her sitting room and cleared his throat. "The Duke of Haverstone to see you, my lady."

  What the devil was he doing here? He was going to ruin everything! Surging to her feet, she threw down her needlepoint and crossed her arms.

  Hunter entered the room and gave her a weak smile.

  Weak smile? Nothing was weak about Hunter's smile. Was he ill? What the blazes was wrong with him? Perhaps his gunshot wound was acting up?

  "Hunter?" She narrowed her eyes. "Did you—" Truly she was losing her mind. "Did you cut your hair?"

  "But of course. So glad you noticed." He winked.

  She was convinced now, more than ever, that she needed to quit spying lest she finally lose her mind. "Hunter, I swear by all that is holy that if you do not be quick about what you came to say, I will strangle you with my bare hands! Redding will be here any minute, and we both know how important this meeting is!"

  "Then I am right on time." Hunter approached her and took her hand in his. He smelled… different. Not unpleasantly so, but oddly like a stranger. She leaned in and sniffed again. No alcohol fumes? Is that why he looked so healthy?

  "When you are done sniffing me, I will proceed." Hunter grinned.

  Gwen leaned forward. "Your teeth, they look…" They we
re perfectly straight like Hunter's except the way his mouth formed around them was all wrong. His smile seemed wider and almost forced.

  Hunter groaned. "Like teeth. Now, do stop getting distracted. This is important."

  "Right." But Gwen could not for the life of her take her eyes away from Hunter's. That feature she knew about him. His eyes had always been an eerie golden brown, but right now they looked positively green! Impossible! She shook her head.

  Hunter looked down, breaking his gaze. "You cannot go with Redding. Tell him you are unwell, tell him you find him lacking in some way, but do not get in the carriage with him. Do you understand?"

  "No."

  "Are you always this easy to get along with?"

  Gwen laughed. "You of all people should know the answer to that question."

  "I should. Shouldn't I?" Hunter leaned forward and caressed her face. "I see it. I did not think I would, but I see it. I see what the Wolf sees in you. Never lose your fight, love."

  "Are you drunk?" Gwen leaned in. Perhaps there was whiskey on his breath?

  "I wish I were. Perhaps then this nightmare would finally free me from its clutches." Hunter dropped her hand. "If you do not heed my advice, I will tie you up."

  "Wouldn't be the first time," Gwen mumbled.

  Hunter threw his head back and laughed. "I mean it, my lady."

  "So now you call me a lady, after all we've been through? Not Red? Sheep? Nut or plain old Gwen?"

  "Nothing about you is plain, my lady." He smiled warmly. "So I ask again, what will it be?"

  "I will not stay."

  "Then you leave me no choice." With a wicked smile he yelled at the top of his lungs. "My lady! Do you mind! I am not a piece of meat that you can throw yourself upon when you suddenly have an urge!"

  "What are you doing?" Gwen hissed and smacked him on the arm. Insanity, it seemed, had finally caught up with her partner. Pity, she had always bet he would die of alcohol consumption first.