Chapter Fourteen
Wolf had seen many brilliant pieces of architecture in his lifetime, all owing design to their environments—the Imperial Palace in Japan, with its outlying guard posts and mountainous backdrops; Versailles and its luscious gardens; and Charles IV’s palace El Escorial in Madrid, which was now inhabited by Napoleon’s brother, Joseph. The interior of Trethewey House was no exception. He’d known Herding was a successful mineral lord, but he hadn’t expected the attention to detail, the flawless lumber, intricate moldings, and hand-carved door mantels—all extremely hard to come by in Cornwall. Trethewey, in its rugged, earthy elegance, almost rivaled the Earl of Hartland’s home.
It appeared the lodes between Redruth and Camborne included in Herding’s mineral corporation had benefited the man greatly. But what of the miners in his employ? He’d passed their cottages on the trail from Portreath to Trethewey and the class differences between them made Wolf grumble. He’d trained with famed fencing master Dominico Angelo Malevolti Tremamondo’s son, Henry Angelo, on Bond Street and with French master de Frevile in St. Petersburg at the imperatorial lyceum. He knew how the world worked: nabobs got richer while the poor were forced to beg for scraps.
Captain Charve had always said it was better to go through life refusing to cleave to anything that could be stripped away. Indeed, Wolf had lost everything that had mattered to him—his parents, a sibling, his innocence, and memories of his childhood. Charve, on the other hand, had given him a new life, teaching him never to think he was better than anyone else.
Not so for Julius Herding.
Wolf did not need to put on airs. The only thing that mattered to him was the Sea Wolf, and he’d die before ever allowing anyone to take her from him.
His footsteps drummed loudly on the fine hardwood floor, a resource that was difficult to come by in Cornwall. Trethewey’s drawing room and the room adjacent to it were filled with oak and mahogany, from the minimally carpeted wood floors to its partially paneled walls. Portraits in gold frames hung from the ceiling by lengthy chains against the walls. A large, white, crafted fireplace—its nook swept clean, and fresh furze and turf stacked inside—scaled the wall to his left, owning the room, its surface decorated with filigree ornamentation. Several tables with bric-a-brac and porcelain vases on display were scattered throughout the room.
“This way,” Selina said, luring Wolf toward another door as she followed Mary’s lead.
On the other side of this door, the house opened up like a fresh bloom. Light filtered down from a windowed canopy above the foyer. And an impressive staircase—with a conventional banister that contrasted the rest of the house—led to the second floor.
Selina reached out her hand and curled her fingers for Wolf to follow. “Our rooms are upstairs.”
He hesitated. The Sea Wolf and his men awaited his return. And yet, alarms pounded in his head. He felt an instinctive urge to spend more time with Selina before he abandoned her once more to her fate.
Bollocks.
He marched up the staircase behind her like a dog led on a leash. He despised that analogy. When time availed itself, he’d catch Selina alone and explain that he simply could not stay. Unless that meant tasting Selina’s lips before he left her and put her out of his mind once and for all.
He grumbled to himself, cursing his inability to resist a beautiful woman. Time had proven again and again that anyone who became attached to him suffered cruelly for it. In his defense, he hadn’t known just what kind of temptation Selina would prove to be when he’d bartered for her release. But what a lovely surprise she’d been.
If he didn’t do something fast, he’d never leave Trethewey.
The maid they called Mary moved down the hall and opened a door, disappearing inside. Selina moved toward the room, borrowing the doorway for support. Just when he thought she would follow the maid, she turned to look back at him.
“I won’t be long. Promise me you’ll stay,” she said, her eyes locking with his. “Don’t leave me without saying goodbye.”
There were times Wolf wondered if he’d ever be able to deny Selina anything. “I’ll stay long enough for dinner. No longer.”
She nodded, her lower lip twitching slightly. He wanted to suck it into his mouth and—
“You are the only man who can save my brother, Wolf,” she said softly. “I’ve seen you fight. I know what you’re capable of. More importantly, I trust that you will not take Papa’s money and disappear like so many others would. All I ask is that you hear him out. You will not be disappointed, I assure you.”
“I’ve learned to get used to disappointment,” he said. “When you start looking for miracles, you never find them.”
Every curve of her body lured him in like a moth to flame. “I found you, didn’t I?” she asked.
“No,” he corrected. “I found you.”
“Exactly.” Her smoky gray eyes met his. “I had nothing to hope for until you appeared in the Wasp.”
She wasn’t going to let the notion that he could solve all her problems go. He had to make her understand that she belonged at Trethewey. “You don’t want to end up back where you started. Corsairs are crafty buggers, and it’s very likely that may happen.”
“Nothing you say can convince me otherwise. You are exactly what my brother and I need. You are the only one who can find him.”
Wolf started to reach out to touch her cheek as emotions he tried hard to check flooded him, but Mary emerged from Selina’s bedchamber and eyed him suspiciously.
“This way, sir.” Without waiting for his response, the maid walked toward the opposite end of the hall, expecting him to follow her.
He dropped his hand. “I’ll sit through dinner. That is all. Afterward, I’m headed back to the Sea Wolf.”
A couple emerged from one of the rooms. While he was distracted, the door to Selina’s bedchamber clicked closed and he found himself standing alone. Mary motioned for him to follow her down the hall. He pushed away from Selina’s door, bowed his head as the couple moved quickly past, and walked to the room Mary had readied for him.
The floor creaked beneath his weight, the sound an ominous reminder that he was not on board a ship but in a landlubber’s domain. As he moved through the doorway, Wolf masked his astonishment.
Mary stepped back from a copper tub and brushed off her apron. “The temperature is just right, sir. Don’t dally or the tub will lose its heat. Dinner will be ready in two hours’ time. Don’t be late. Cook doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Aye.” He nodded, understanding. Arriving late to dinner only made everyone’s food get cold. “Thank you, Mary.”
She glanced around, presumably to double-check that she had everything prepared for him. Nodding, she patted her apron and then quickly made her escape, shutting the door behind her.
The room Wolf had been assigned was a dark, masculine room. The walls were bare, save for several sophisticated tapestries and wall sconces that brightened the space. A leather armchair beckoned beside the fire—just beyond the tub—and a footrest welcomed weary feet. In the corner, a washbasin and sideboard stood next to the window, and a large carved wardrobe with knobbed feet filled another wall. Along the south-facing wall, a large imposing four-post bed with a carved backboard was decorated with draperies cascading from each post. A cushioned bench abutted the foot of the bed.
All the comforts of home, Wolf thought. A home he’d never had.
He tossed his tricorn on the bed. Best make the most of it. He unlaced his wrist guards, setting them close to the tub where he could reach them, and shrugged out of his greatcoat. He’d be riding back to Portreath in a few hours, but it would take half a sennight to travel to London. There was no way to know when he’d next find an opportunity to bathe in anything but a half barrel. A real bath appealed to him greatly.
Removing flint from the inside of his coat and one of his coveted remaining cigars, Wolf cut the wrapped end, lit a match, and inhaled the smoke, luxuriating in the strong, peppery flavor that filled his mouth. He stripped off his boots, his clothes, and then stepped into the tub, lowering himself into the steamy water and luxuriating in the sensations on his skin. Smooth and delicious, like Selina. Or she would be if he decided to seduce her. Except the unreliable presence of her intended was problematic.
Wolf frowned, chomped on his cigar, and sank deeper into the water. “Bugger.”
Hours later, Wolf left the confines of his room and descended the staircase. Polke stood in the foyer. Didn’t the poor man ever get to sit down? He handed the footman his overcoat and tricorn, having laced his wrist guards over his forearms. He never went anywhere without them. “Watch these, please. I’ll be back for them shortly.”
Polke accepted Wolf’s coat and hat, draping the former over his arm. “As you wish, Captain. May I ask when you plan to depart?”
“Believe me, you’ll know it when it happens, bloke.”
The man’s throat bobbed. “Name’s Polke, sir.”
Wolf looked at the footman. “My mistake.”
He left Polke and followed sounds of laughter and conversation that were filtering down the hall. He glanced at the longcase clock. He wasn’t late. Hell, he’d actually been able to follow Mary’s advice not to upset the cook, and by the sound of it, the other guests had done the same.
Footsteps signaled he was about to have company. Wolf sniffed the air, bent his elbows, and raised his fists, prepared to box Gariland if it turned out he was the one about to round the corner. He had a sneaking suspicion the man had it out for him, though he couldn’t be sure why. He’d done nothing to the man . . . except bring Selina home.
Was that what niggled at his brain? Gariland seemed quite happy that Selina had returned. It was not the way a man determined to get rid of a woman and her brother might behave. Or was Owen the only intended target the day of their wedding? If that was the case, why?
Velly appeared around the corner. “Captain Wolf,” the butler said with indefatigable composure as he perused Wolf’s raised fists. “You will find the other guests in the drawing room, sir. Dinner will be served shortly.”
“Thank you.” He lowered his arms, gave the man a nod, and followed his lead, winding back through the adjoining room to the drawing room and a nest of potential vipers.
He prepared himself for the meddlesome questions and scathing glances he was accustomed to receiving in his line of business. Resigned to the inevitable, Wolf studied the people in the room through the doorway. The space was larger than most drawing rooms owned by the merchant class and hinted at Cornish custom with its affluent paneled walls inlaid with copper relief. He glanced at the stuffed armchair near the settee where Selina’s leg had brushed his only hours before. She hadn’t pulled away like a proper lady should have, imprinting her brazen behavior on him.
Damn, why did everything always come back to Selina?
The interior included a large bay window and a plastered fireplace that ornamented the opposite side of the room, where several conversing ladies sat on a large settee. In the midst of this, fifteen people chatted at once.
Herding glanced toward the doorway and saw him first. “Captain Wolf!” he exclaimed. “Do join us.” Wolf nodded cordially and moved toward Herding. “I was just telling my fellows about the courageous way you leaped in and saved my daughter’s life.”
“One does what one must,” he said.
Several heads turned in his direction, pinning him to the floor where he stood with curious eyes. He didn’t enjoy being the center of attention. It robbed a man of reacting spontaneously. However, as Captain Charve used to say, a good man knew when to buck against the system and when to relent.
Wolf acknowledged Selina’s father, then bowed to several people who quickly moved out of his way, half out of fear, half out of disgust, avoiding him as if he’d been put to bed with a shovel.
“Egad!” Herding’s voice erupted loudly as he gawked at Wolf’s arms and the pistols he’d shoved into the waist of his trousers. Realizing his blunder, Selina’s father lowered his voice. “Must you wear your weapons here? We are all unarmed. I assure you there is no need for violence.”
Wolf glanced down at the barking irons jutting out of his trousers. “I feel naked without them.”
Several men howled, and the women gasped, fanning their faces.
Gariland separated himself from a group of chortling men and boldly sauntered over. “That is the difference between you and the gentlemen here, Captain. We are not barbarians. We do not feel the need to arm ourselves at home.”
“This is not my home.” The truth smelled as foul as Gariland’s wine-laced breath. “The Sea Wolf is. And she writhes beneath me like a lover. Can you say the same, my lord?”
A man nearby burst into laughter and turned away to hide his mirth.
“Someone told me once that facts are indisputable,” Wolf said. He cocked a brow as Gariland made a motion to push him aside. Rooting his feet to the Axminster carpet, Wolf checked his balance, making the smaller man’s attempts to shove him out of the way a failure.
“At last! My beautiful daughter has arrived,” Herding exclaimed, silencing his guests. “Step aside and allow her room, won’t you?”
Wolf turned, nearly knocking Gariland over in his haste.
Selina stood at the doorway, a vision of femininity that challenged her father’s prejudice, filling Wolf with pride. She was dressed in the finest blue silk with overlaid gossamer, the color complementing her eyes. Pearl earbobs dangled alongside her graceful neck, the beaded groupings mimicking fashion he’d seen at Versailles. But these were not the attributes he noticed most. No. Selina’s womanhood was on full display. Mounds of glorious flesh strained against her bodice with tempting fullness, reminding him of the bathwater he’d seen teasing her taut nipples.
This was not the image a man who intended to walk away from a woman wanted in his head. He struggled to catch his breath.
Herding moved past Wolf to join his daughter. He placed his arm around her shoulders and clung to her, making a great show of affection for the benefit of his guests.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, eyeing Wolf speculatively. “As you can see, Selina is safe and none the worse for wear.”
Herding had no idea what Selina had been through. If he only knew . . .
“I owe a great debt of gratitude,” he continued, “to the man who joins us today. He is the captain of the Sea Wolf, and he has delivered my darling girl back to her betrothed, Lord Gariland.” The man turned to his daughter and made a generous show of emotion, grabbing both sides of her face and then kissing her forehead. When Herding recovered from his momentary emotional lapse, he straightened his lapels. “And I am beyond delighted to announce that Captain Wolf has agreed to do the same for my son, who is being held against his will in Spain.”
Applause erupted, and heads turned to Wolf.
Bollocks. He’d been right to prepare for a hasty exit.
“Hear, hear!” someone shouted as if affirming his thoughts.
Wolf groaned inwardly and stiffened, wanting to turn on his heel and put Gariland and Selina’s manipulative father behind him. But that meant he’d have to say goodbye to Selina, and his instincts told him not to.
“Well done, sir!” The accolades echoed around him. “Bravo!”
He was being played, and he knew it. As Selina walked toward him, there was none of the filthy waif desperate for freedom in her now. She wore three-quarter-length gloves to hide the marks on her wrists and hands. There was a spark of hope in her eyes as she searched his face. Her smile, both genuine and apologetic, set his pulse racing. Damn, he was a scupper lout. He was a witless fool for allowing Selina to sink her talons into him and possess him body and soul.
He stepped back as the room pressed in. It was hard to breath. He yearned to stand on the quarterdeck beneath the Sea Wolf’s arcing sails, to feel the breeze on his skin.
“Wolf.” Selina’s voice cut through him like a blade.
The stares of a dozen strangers prickled his skin as he grabbed Selina’s gloved fingers. He leaned down to kiss her knuckles, watching her reaction over the top of her hand. “Are you to be my reward?” he asked.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Gariland brushed her aside. “She’s already taken, dear boy.” He turned to Selina and lowered his voice. “How beautiful you look this evening, Selina.”
“Lord Gariland, we are not yet married,” she said. “It is Miss Herding.”
Wolf had seen Gariland’s kind before, a predatory creature intent on suffocating its prey. He fisted his hands, trying to control the jealously racing through his veins. Selina was taken. He’d always known she was spoken for, and he had no idea why Gariland’s possessiveness angered him now.
Selina turned away from Gariland and held Wolf’s stare. “Captain Wolf and I were just—”
“Too familiar,” Gariland supplied softly. “Something that shall not be allowed once we are married.”
“Rightly so, Lord Gariland.” Her father swept in to steal Selina away from both Gariland and Wolf before either of them could speak. “By the by, Velly has arrived.”
Wolf’s gaze darted to the doorway where the butler postured on the threshold, waiting to be acknowledged.
At Herding’s nod, Velly announced, “Dinner is served.”
Gariland rose on the balls of his feet. When he wasn’t given the opportunity to provide Selina an escort, the wastrel followed Herding and Selina into the adjoining room. Selina, for her part, glanced over her shoulder at Wolf. In her eyes, he read an apology for her father’s and Gariland’s actions.
Bugger. Wolf hated people. Society was filled with men and women who were disillusioned slaves to the times they lived in. Many were mindless caricatures of themselves, shuffling through life, too petrified or dignified to actually live it.
Guests pressed past him, their eyes drifting to his weapons.
Wolf brooded over the jarring stares. He’d never get used to them. He rested his hands on his pistols, then followed the crowd, daring anyone to take them away. By the time he entered the dining room and the guests dispersed, the gentlemen seated their ladies at an extravagant table crowned by a massive centerpiece.
Wrought iron candelabras stood at various intervals on tall stands, their wicks alight with flickering flames above copper wax drip guards. The room, which was decorated like the others with dark wood paneling and portraits of influential people, boasted long drapes that cascaded over two floor-to-ceiling windows. Opposite them, a white fireplace popped and crackled to life.
He ventured closer to the four-leaf table laden with silverware, copper, and crystal. There were two candelabras stationed at each end, the centerpiece of sugared fruit and bowls of mustard set between them.
“Join us, Captain,” Herding said, his arms outstretched at his sides. “But first, I must confess I’d be more at my leisure if you discarded your weapons.”
“I’m not going to hurt anyone.” Unless you deserve it. Wolf glanced at Selina, silently urging her to say something, anything that would change her father’s wishes.
She smiled hesitantly but nodded for him to abide by her father’s rules. Thankfully, she hadn’t bothered to mention that his wrist guards were weapons, which gave Wolf some semblance of self.
“Very well,” he said, grumbling to himself as he removed his pistols. Bollocks. He didn’t belong here. He couldn’t be housebroken.
A servant came forward, removing the weapons from the table. Wolf growled at the man, who quickly sauntered back to the east wall and carefully placed the pistols on the sideboard one at a time.
“Now . . .” Herding clapped his hands together. “Formalities observed, a good host does not forget to introduce his guests.” He glanced at Wolf standing beside his chair. “Captain Wolf, allow me to introduce the men who share partnership in my mining conglomerate and their wives.” He began the introductions at Selina’s right. “Lord and Lady Basset; Mr. and Mrs. Clotworthie; Mr. and Mrs. Legge; Mr. and Mrs. Pasmoore; Lord Gariland you’ve already met; Mr. and Mrs. Surrage; and Mr. and Mrs. Wilkyn.” He stopped at Selina. “My daughter you clearly know.” Herding extended his arm to Wolf. “And now, dear Captain, I ask you to sit in a place of honor.”
“In my chair?” Gariland asked. “I say, this is out of the ordinary, but of course, I insist. Anything for the man who brought my bride-to-be back to me.”
Wolf cocked a brow. Gariland was pressing the state of his engagement again. “In that case, it will be my pleasure.”
Gariland moved to the empty chair next to Herding’s and sat down. The weaselly lord dabbed his nose with a handkerchief to cover his scowl, hiding behind the lace like fowl in the reeds on hunting day. He murmured something to Mrs. Pasmoore. She must have said something that didn’t please the man, however, because he leaned against his tall backrest at the opposite end of the table and snapped his mouth shut.
If Wolf had any sense, he’d get up and leave the room, but he couldn’t do so now without causing Selina embarrassment. After what she’d been through, he wouldn’t do that to her.
Selina, for her part, tried to remain passive, exhibiting an uneasy charm at her father’s side.
“If I may be so bold, Captain, what kind of name is Wolf?” Mr. Legge asked.
He opened his mouth, but Selina spoke first. “The captain is named after the esteemed composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Mr. Legge.”
“Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,” Mrs. Surrage exclaimed, her low, raspy tone implying how impressed she was. “The man was a genius.”
Wolf wouldn’t know. He’d found little time to attend operas or listen to music. The establishments he visited tended to be limited to fiddles and shanties. In fact, he didn’t even know what “Rondo alla Turca,” Selina’s favorite piece, sounded like. Perhaps he could persuade her to play it for him before he said goodbye.
Wolf shuttered the thought as he tugged at the cravat Herding’s valet had tied about Wolf’s neck. He wasn’t used to the restricting garments that reminded him of Tilbury Point where he’d seen pirates hanging from gibbets. He doubted he’d even be able to swallow any of the cook’s food.
“I agree,” Selina said as a servant poured wine into her glass. Her eyes held his. He let go of the cravat, discovering other areas of his body would need adjusting if he had to rise.
“I’m duly impressed, Captain,” Mrs. Legge said, “as your mother must have been quite proficient to name you after one of the masters.”
“I wouldn’t know.” He’d faced Robert Surcouf, a notorious pirate from Saint-Malo; Joseph Fouché, Napoleon’s Minister of Police; and Marmont and had come out unscathed. But thinking of the woman who’d given birth to him, the woman he’d been denied any memory of, hit his last nerve.
Herding stood. He lifted his wineglass and nodded to his guests. “Gentlemen. Ladies.” Chairs scuffed against the carpet as the men followed suit. Herding dipped his head chivalrously at each woman present and then stopped at Selina. “To my daughter’s safe return.”
“To Miss Herding,” the group responded.
Herding shot his gaze around the table before settling his wizened eyes on Wolf. “And to the man who will bring home my heir.”
“Hear, hear!” Gariland’s voice rose with exaggerated, almost practiced ease. “To Captain Wolf’s success!” A sweaty sheen brightened the lord’s cheeks, and he paled almost imperceptibly even as he exuded joy. “May he return after his job is done.”
Wolf thinned his lips. Arrogance didn’t sit well with him, but neither did a man who appeared to be hiding something. He’d be willing to bet Lord Gariland wasn’t who he claimed to be. “I’m curious, Lord Gariland,” he started.
“Do tell. I’ve never been a man to quash curiosity, Captain,” the man said, entertaining a false smile.
Wolf set his wineglass on the table. Something about Lord Gariland left a sour taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t place what exactly. “What did you do when Miss Herding did not arrive at the chapel?”
Heads swiveled from Wolf to Gariland.
“That was the worst day of my life.” Gariland’s smile faded as he gazed at Selina. “I will not speak of it.”
The worst day of Gariland’s life? Hadn’t he considered Selina and her brother? Now was the time for the lord to proclaim his affections. Selina needed to know she was desired, loved, held in the highest regard. She needed to hear such things from Gariland’s own mouth.
“No,” Herding said, giving Gariland a gruff nod. “Do not trouble yourself to speak your heart, my lord.” He cut his gaze to Wolf. “You were not there, Captain, and thankfully so or you would not have been in Saint-Malo. I confess, my daughter’s wedding day is a day I never want to relive. When the kidnappers’ letter arrived with the terms of my children’s ransom, well . . . I’m a gentleman and, therefore, choose not to offend anyone here with my rhetoric.”
“So the terms were sent to the chapel?” Wolf asked curiously.
Herding nodded. “Quite so. I suspect they learned of my whereabouts from my children upon their capture.”
Silence descended upon the room. Crystal chinked against china as Mrs. Legge raised her wineglass and took a sip.
“Then the kidnappers knew where they could find Miss Herding and her brother, and where to find you. Doesn’t that seem deliberate?”
“Yes,” Herding said. “Come to think of it, it does.” Selina’s father leaned back in his chair. “It all seemed so darned convenient then. I solicited my banker immediately, paid the ransom as quickly as possible, and saw to its delivery.”
“If you delivered the sum, perhaps you can provide me with a description of Miss Herding’s kidnappers?” Wolf asked.
“Nay, I cannot,” he said, causing Wolf to frown. “But Lord Gariland could. I sent him to deliver the money. Poor fellow was beaten unconscious.”
Gariland became agitated. “Please do not go into detail, sir. Allow a man his dignity.” But there was something about the way Gariland’s throat bobbed and avoided eye contact with Selina that seemed off. “I did what any man would do for his betrothed.”
If that was the case, Lord Gariland wouldn’t be here. He would have died trying to get Selina back.