“Don’t sound so hopeful, poppet. We had good directions from that last coaching inn.”
It could also be a not-so-subtle way of saying she wasn’t welcome, but Brooke didn’t mention that again. Her stomach was tied in knots and had been for days, but now it was much worse. If she vomited, she would be mortified. Whichever servant had to clean it up would hate her.Nota good start if they did get in.
The footmen were waiting for her order to unload the trunks. She didn’t give it yet, didn’t move, either. Alfreda didn’t notice that Brooke was rooted to the spot, merely said, “Come on, then,” and started toward the doors. But Raston hissed loudly as the maid got closer to the house and fought to get out of her arms. They watched as he ran along the side of the house and disappeared.
“What the devil’s got into him?” the maid said in surprise.
“Maybe they keep dogs in the house that he can sense.”
“Or maybe it’s because there really is a wolf in there,” Alfreda countered, hinting that she believed in folklore after all. “Raston usually scares dogs away. I’ve yet to see one that frightens him.”
“It’s a new place. He doesn’t feel at home yet.”
“And neither do I with this lack of welcome.”
“Let’s go after him.”
“No, let’s get you settled first. Raston won’t go far. He’ll likely head straight for the stable. It’s what he’s used to.”
“Let’s wait,” Brooke said. “If that door doesn’t open, we’ll have good reason to leave.”
“I know you’re nervous, but—”
“Really, let’s wait. The sun is out now. I’d like to enjoy...”
Brooke fell silent before she started babbling. Shewasnervous. So much hinged on what happened today. Alfreda, peering closely at her expression, quickly nodded. Did she look that afraid? She took a few deep breaths, which didn’t help.
Ten minutes passed, possibly more. It really did seem as if no one was in residence today. Or maybe the Wolfes didn’t have servants? No, her mother had said they were an eminent family of means. Thiswasa rebuff. The wolf was going to tell her to be gone if she came face-to-face with him. This was his way of avoiding that. She almost breathed easier, until she realized she had too much hanging over her own head to just make assumptions like that.
Brooke finally straightened her shoulders and nodded at Alfreda, who took the last few steps and raised her fist to the door—and almost lost her balance when one of the two doors finally opened and she hit air instead. Alfreda glared at the man standing there. Brooke said nothing. She had taken one glance at him and lowered her eyes as she was accustomed to doing with strangers. But in that glance she’d seen a tall man with short blond hair, cut in the current fashion that her brother favored, and light blue eyes. A handsome man, dressed nattily in buff breeches, a neatly tailored coat, and a thick cravat. It was not how a servant would dress. If this was Lord Wolfe, she’d be pleased, indeed she would. Her stomach stopped feeling quite so knotted.
But then she heard him say, “I was in a quandary of sorts, so I was not going to open the door until you knocked.”
“Do you realize how long we’ve been waiting out here?” Alfreda demanded.
“No longer than I’ve been standing in here waiting for your knock.”
Brooke was incredulous. Logic like that boggled the mind. Alfreda swore, then, sounding exasperated, asked, “What was your quandary that you chose to ignore us?”
“I would never do that! You are immeasurably unignorable, ’deed you are. I just wanted to make sure the halls were cleared before I invited you in.”
“Cleared of what?”
“Furious encounters,” Brooke thought she heard the man say, but he’d spoken so softly she wasn’t sure. Then he added, “Do please come inside.”
Alfreda complained, “If you’re the butler, I’ll see that you’re fired.”
“I’m not, and you won’t,” the man said cheekily. “You’ll warm toward me before long. You’ll love me.”
“In your dreams, puppy. Show us to your lord.”
“No, but I’ll show you to your rooms.”
So he wasn’t Lord Wolfe. How disappointing! But Brooke glanced up at him again only to find him staring at her now as if he’d only just looked her way. And continued to stare for a long time. Alfreda cleared her throat loudly at his rudeness.
He heard it but didn’t blush. He did grin and say to Brooke, “If he doesn’t love you, I will. You already have my heart, ’deed you do. Atyourservice, M’lady Whitworth. I am Gabriel Biscane and so very pleased to meet you.”
The lighthearted, silly remarks brought a brief, courteous smile to her lips. She wasn’t used to meeting young men of any sort and had certainly never experienced this reaction from any of them.
