The Cursed One (26 page)
Authors: Ronda Thompson
“I wouldn't share the brandy with Lady Collingsworth,” Lucinda said at his back. “Tea would be better for the babe.”
The bottle slipped from his hand. “What?” He turned to the lovely witch. “What did you just say?”
“Better listen to her,” Jackson piped up, grinning like an idiot. “She knows these things. Our own babe is on the way and she knew long before she missed her first cycle.”
“God, it's an epidemic,” Armond remarked drily, and one by one, each brother began to laugh.
Always the serious one, the sensible one, Gabriel did not join them, at least not for a moment. He'd never dared to dream of children, of even having a wife. But Amelia had taught him to dream again, to laugh again, to have hope. How could a man cursed for so long suddenly be so blessed? It was as simple as finding love and surrendering to it.
LONDON, TWO YEARS LATER
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The boy was the spitting image of his father; there was
no doubt about that. He would break many a heart someday, but never his mother's, Amelia felt certain. His name was Treville, and all of society knew the child did not belong to Amelia's late husband. It caused talk to be certain, but Amelia didn't mind talk.
no doubt about that. He would break many a heart someday, but never his mother's, Amelia felt certain. His name was Treville, and all of society knew the child did not belong to Amelia's late husband. It caused talk to be certain, but Amelia didn't mind talk.
If she did, she would not that very moment be standing in the middle of Hyde Park wearing men's breeches and boots. She and Gabriel had ridden Rotten Row earlier. Her choice of clothing had caused quite a stir, but Amelia was used to causing a stir. Gabriel found it all very amusing. She watched him now, so full of love and pride that he belonged to her and she to him. He was speaking to her parents, who'd spread a blanket on the ground and brought little Treville with them. They doted upon the child, and finally, no matter what Amelia did wrong, they turned a blind eye.
All of the Wulfs were in London at the moment. The season had begun and the Dowager Duchess of Brayberry couldn't wait to host her first Wulf ball. Everyone would come simply out of curiosity. Amelia thought she might wear trousers and boots to the ball.
That would set everyone on their ear and please the old woman immensely.
That would set everyone on their ear and please the old woman immensely.
“You're looking very fetching in those trousers, Wife,” Gabriel teased, joining her. “I'm sure it will be all the rage tomorrow. Women wearing men's clothing.”
“Well, maybe not tomorrow, but someday I imagine it will be,” she said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. “Are you nervous about attending your first social engagement in years?”
“I'd rather be at Wulfglen,” he admitted.
Surprisingly enough, so would Amelia.
“Your parents are going to spoil that boy,” he said, turning Amelia's gaze to the sight of her father hefting Treville into the air until he squealed with delight. Amelia smiled, watching them. Her smile faded a moment later.
“He will be all right, won't he?” she asked softly.
Gabriel put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “He will be all right because we will make certain that he is. If Treville is different, we will tell him why, and we will tell him it doesn't mean his life is cursed. It doesn't mean he can't have hopes and dreams, and a life like everyone else.”
She took assurances from Gabriel. If he said things would be all right, then she knew they would be. Armond and Rosalind had a son, also. A very handsome boy. And Jackson's dimpled little boy would steal whatever hearts his older brother, Sebastian, didn't take for himself. Merrick and Anne had a daughter. A beauty she was, and as sweet natured as her mother. Sterling's son, although only toddling, seemed to have a gift with animals, like Sterling did himself.
The curse that had stolen their lives had given them back tenfold in the end. Perhaps that had been the witch's parting gift to Ivan Wulf, only he had never realized there could be a gift in a curse. Which reminded Amelia of the glittering eyes she saw every night in the shadows. The spirit of the wolf, waiting.
“You don't suppose we will see Mora or Raef this season do you?” she asked.
Gabriel frowned down at her. “I don't suppose we'd know we were seeing them if we did.”
“Will you and your brothers hunt them?”
It was a subject they mostly avoided, but Amelia would know her husband's plans.
“Only if they give us cause,” he answered. “They already force us to rejoin society's ranks whether we want to or not. Someone has to protect our race from theirs.” He nodded toward Amelia's mother and father, who were laughing down at young Treville. “Who will protect those who have no idea what lives in the shadows?”
Amelia knew he was right. She might have once wished to remain blessedly ignorant. But not anymore. Only the strong could protect the weak, and only a strong woman could stand bravely by the side of a guardian. She was that woman. Gabriel's woman. His wife, his lover, his partner.
“Let's ride again while Mother and Father are entertaining Treville. I want to show off our horses so that everyone rushes to us to purchase one.”
“Maybe we can find a secluded spot where I can steal a proper kiss,” he said against her ear.
She giggled. “I'm sure you can steal more than that if just such a spot can be found.”
“You are shocking,” he said, smiling down at her.
“I do my best,” she countered, then took his hand and led him toward their waiting horses. Today, if they were not simply an ordinary couple enjoying a day in the park, they were an extraordinary couple. She wouldn't worry that her husband might one day be forced to embrace the spirit of the wolf again and protect the country from invasion.
Lucinda had confided to her that such espionage should be handled by other men. Men without the responsibility of children and wives to worry over them. Men who would willingly accept a curse as a gift and do battle for those still blessedly ignorant. For if Lucinda said so, it usually came to pass.
D
amn the witch who cursed me.
I thought her heart was pure.
Alas, no woman understands duty,
be it to family, name, or war.
I found no way to break it,
no potion, chant, or deed.
From the day she cast the spell,
it will pass from seed to seed.
amn the witch who cursed me.
I thought her heart was pure.
Alas, no woman understands duty,
be it to family, name, or war.
I found no way to break it,
no potion, chant, or deed.
From the day she cast the spell,
it will pass from seed to seed.
Â
B
etrayed by love, my own false tongue,
she bade the moon transform me.
The family name, once my pride,
becomes the beast that haunts me.
And in the witch's passing hour
she called me to her side.
Forgiveness lost, of mercy none,
she spoke before she died:
etrayed by love, my own false tongue,
she bade the moon transform me.
The family name, once my pride,
becomes the beast that haunts me.
And in the witch's passing hour
she called me to her side.
Forgiveness lost, of mercy none,
she spoke before she died:
Â
“S
eek you and find your worst enemy;
stand brave and do not flee.
Love is the curse that binds you,
but 'tis also the key to set you free.”
eek you and find your worst enemy;
stand brave and do not flee.
Love is the curse that binds you,
but 'tis also the key to set you free.”
Â
H
er curse and riddle my bane,
this witch I loved yet could not wed.
Battles I have fought and won,
and still defeat I leave in my stead.
To the Wulfs who suffer my sins,
the sons who are neither man nor beast,
solve the conundrum I could not,
and be from this curse released.
er curse and riddle my bane,
this witch I loved yet could not wed.
Battles I have fought and won,
and still defeat I leave in my stead.
To the Wulfs who suffer my sins,
the sons who are neither man nor beast,
solve the conundrum I could not,
and be from this curse released.
Â
IVAN WULF
,
In the year of our Lord seventeen hundred and fifteen
,
In the year of our Lord seventeen hundred and fifteen
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
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THE CURSED ONE
Copyright © 2006 by Ronda Thompson.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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St. Martin's Paperbacks are published by St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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Photo of man © Shirley Green
Photo of castle © James Osmond/Alamy
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eISBN 9781429934053
First eBook Edition : May 2011
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St. Martin's Paperbacks edition / December 2006
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