To Catch a Wolf (16 page)

weight on her feet and walk away. "If you would be so kind," she said, "I would like to sit

up. I am fully recovered.”

He was certainly not. But he went to her and lifted her again, carrying her to the chair.

The contact was disturbing, and he was aware of her distinct female scent and the

acceleration of her heartbeat. Once she was settled he released her quickly and

stepped away.

"Please forgive me, Mr. Holt," she said. "I realize that you did not seek my confidences.

I shall try not to impose too much. If you can tell me—" She bit her lower lip. "Did you

ever meet a woman named Gwenyth Desbois?”

"Your mother?”

She nodded. Her eyes shone—with hope, perhaps. He hated himself for having to

shatter it.

"No. I knew only one other of wolf blood—my own mother.”

"I see." She gazed down at her hands. "I had thought that you, having traveled so

widely, might have known more like us.”

He shook his head, wishing he could lessen the sting. "I last saw my mother and sister

when I was fourteen.”

"So long ago? You were only a boy.”

"I was not a boy for long.”

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"But you loved them. Something kept you apart from them. I know what it is to lose—"

The corner of her mouth trembled. "I loved my father.”

He did not pursue the path she offered. "They are gone," he said. "Life continues.”

"Yes." After a time, she smiled. Always the smile, fore-bearing and generous, covering

what she did not want the world to see. "I still have Niall, and my work.”

Niall Munroe—arrogant, confident

and human. "Your brother knows what you are,

and doesn't care?”

"As I said, he is my half brother. He has known since the first time I—for many years.”

And he was undoubtedly glad that she kept her secret from anyone else. Few humans

were so tolerant. "Your father was married twice?”

A faint blush came to her cheeks. "No.”

So. Either she or her brother was what humans called a bastard—illegitimate, bom to a

mother without the status of a wife. Such things meant much in her world. When

werewolves mated, it was for life

unless one of the pair was human.

"You have never tried to Change again?" he asked, eager to escape the subject.

"Not since the accident." Her smile was achingly brave and thoroughly fraudulent.

"Were you afraid?”

He had not meant the question to be so challenging. He did not expect an answer, but

she gave it anyway. "I did not know what would happen if I tried to Change after I

recovered from my injuries," she said. "It happened in the mountains, in wintertime. I

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was in wolf shape just before the accident happened, but I Changed back when my legs

were hurt.”

Then she had known what it was to run free. Once more he was forced to amend his

assumptions about her. From his own experience, Morgan knew that an injury was not

always the same in both shapes. It was risky to Change when severely wounded, for

the great effort could lead to death. But a minor injury could be healed by the Change

itself. What crippled the woman might not cripple the wolf.

But he couldn't be sure. If she tried to Change and became a wolf with two useless

legs

That was what she feared. That was why she tried to forget her dual nature—until he

reminded her of it. Better to live half a life than become a mockery of nature.

But she had said some part of herself could not forget.

"The past is the past," he said. "I can't help you, Miss Munroe.”

She dropped her gaze, seemed about ready to reply, and gave her head a small shake.

"You have been most helpful, Mr. Holt. You saved my life, and answered my questions

willingly. I can ask no more. Now, if you would be so kind as to bring my chair

”

The courteous wall was back in place, vulnerability banished behind the boundaries of

propriety and status. "You owe me nothing. But I do

ask

that you not blame Caitlin

or the troupers for what happened. It was an accident.”

"You do care about them, don't you?" she said softly. Her eyes warmed, and for an

unbearable moment she looked as though she might reach out to him. She regained her

senses quickly enough. "Never fear. I intend to go ahead with the performance. I am

sure Miss Hughes will make sure the horses are safe for the children. Please thank Mr.

French for a most enjoyable visit, and reassure him of my goodwill.”

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Morgan recognized the dismissal. She had spilled out her heart to him, purged herself

of doubts, and now she was ready to return to her life. He could banish any thought of a

mysterious bond between them.

"One last piece of advice, Miss Munroe," he said.

"Give your trust sparingly. Do not mistake enemies for allies.”

He started for the exit before she could respond. Caitlin blocked the way just outside,

pushing Athena's chair before her.

"Is she all right?" the girl asked, peering over his shoulder. "I was so worried, but I had

to quiet the horses

I can't believe that Pennyfarthing bolted like that. It is not like him,

and he couldn't tell me what was wrong. Harry is beside himself, but he thought we

ought to leave you two alone. She is all right, Morgan?”

"She isn't hurt.”

"Was she terribly afraid of you?”

He wanted to laugh. "She accepted it quite

well.”

"Then she didn't think she was going mad? She won't tell anyone?”

"I doubt it.”

Her eyes narrowed. "Something else is wrong, then. Is she angry at us? Will she

withdraw her support?”

"She said she wouldn't.”

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"Did you quarrel?”

"Strangers seldom quarrel.”

"Especially when one stranger has saved the other's life, and reveals his deepest

secret.”

He avoided her too-knowing gaze. "See for yourself. You can show her to Harry and

take her back to her carriage.”

"That is all?”

"What more do you want, Firefly? Her pledge of undying devotion?”

"Has it gone so far already, Morgan?”

"The lady is waiting.”

"But not forever. Don't make that mistake, my friend.”

He growled at her and bolted. Her low, taunting chuckle chased him halfway across the

lot.

Athena Munroe was very quiet when Caitlin went to fetch her. She smiled at Caitlin

graciously enough, but it was the sort of automatic smile that meant her mind was

elsewhere.

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Caitlin knew the name of that "elsewhere." Something was definitely going on between

Morgan and Athena, only Morgan would probably rather die than admit it. Caitlin had a

good idea that she wouldn't be any more successful prying information out of Athena.

Yet Athena had seen what Morgan truly was. He said she accepted it, but no one used

to her sort of life would be so calm when all her illusions of reality were turned upside

down. Townies often accused troupers of double-dealing, but the townies were just as

good at playing false. Maybe better.

A very delicate situation, indeed. But Caitlin had never been the least bit delicate.

"I'm sorry for what happened in the ring," she said cautiously. "Pennyfarthing has never

done anything like that before. If I'd a notion he would bolt, I wouldn't have used him

today.”

Athena blinked and looked at Caitlin as if recognizing her for the first time. "Please do

not give it another thought, Miss Hughes. I believe that Pennyfarthing was more

frightened than I was. As you can see, I am quite well.”

Are you, then? "I am glad. Do you like horses, Miss Munroe?”

Athena's smile wavered ever so slightly. "Yes.”

That simple answer said so much more than a speech. What must it be like, to be able

to ride and run and walk and then have all that taken away from you?

"Then we're still to give the performance for the children," Caitlin said.

"I am sure that such an incident won't be repeated.”

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"I'll make certain it does not." Caitlin moved behind Athena's chair. "You'll want to go

home, Miss Munroe, after all the excitement. Harry is that upset over what happened.

He wants to apologize personally, if you'll see him.”

"Of course. I—" She stopped, and Caitlin could feel the storm gathering. "May I ask a

frank question, Miss Hughes?" Athena did not turn her head, but her shoulders were as

tense as Regina's high wire. "Have you always known what he is?”

No need to ask who "he" was

and no point in pretending not to understand. "Since he

first came to us.”

"Then he will always have a place with you here.”

Now that was an interesting remark. "If he wants it. We take care of our own." She

crouched eye to eye with Athena. "What you saw today—not many townies would

accept it as well as you have.”

"Townies. Is that what you call us?”

"Troupers have learned not to trust too easily.”

"Morgan warned me not to trust. I could not live that way, never trusting anyone.”

"Here, we trust each other. And now we must trust you. For Morgan's sake.”

"You are very fond of him, Miss Hughes.”

"He is like a brother to me. A difficult brother.”

"A difficult man.”

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"But he is a man, Miss Munroe.”

Athena looked away. "You need have no fear. I will not reveal his secret.”

On impulse, Caitlin touched her hand. The kid-gloved fingers were rigid with

unexpressed agitation. "You are a very brave lady," she said

"For a towny, Miss Hughes?”

"You'd better call me Caitlin from now on. In a way, you are part of our family now.”

Athena's fingers relaxed and curled about Caitlin's. Her smile became something more

than just another gesture of impersonal benevolence. "Thank you, Caitlin. My name is

Athena." She slipped her hand free. "As you said, we have had more than enough

excitement for one day.”

"Yes." Caitlin got up and took the handles of the chair. "If you'll just say a word or two to

Harry—he's in the cookhouse, probably fretting himself to death." She hesitated. "Do

you wish me to send for Mr. Munroe?”

"That will not be necessary. I can do a number of things without my brother's help.”

Ah, a sore spot. Caitlin well remembered how masterful Niall Munroe was, and it was no

wonder that he'd have a protective streak where his sister was involved. In his world,

men expected obedience from their women—and Athena was less free than most. Did

she chafe under her brother's rule?

There were some things even great wealth didn't buy—not freedom, not loyalty, and not

love. Ulysses knew that only too well. And Caitlin was more grateful than ever that what

she had didn't depend on the crutch of money.

As long as the troupe survived.

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Caitlin wheeled the chair around and pushed it out into the backyard. "I think," she said

softly, "that you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Athena did not reply. Caitlin respected her silence. It was the beginning of a friendship

that surprised her, and likely surprised Athena even more. Caitlin had a feeling that it

was not the last wonder to come of today's events.

They were halfway to the cookhouse when her feeling was proven correct. A tall figure

came striding across the lot with fell purpose in every step.

Niall Munroe. Caitlin pulled the chair to a stop and listened to her heart thunder like her

horses' hooves. "I think your brother has come for you, Athena," she said.

Mr. Munroe was not a man to waste time on formalities. He looked at Caitlin—once,

again—and then turned to his sister.

"Are you finished with your visit, Athena?" he asked.

"Quite finished. You did not have to fetch me. I was—”

"I would prefer you to go straight home. Miss Hockensmith is waiting at the carriage,

and she will go with you.”

"What is this about, Niall? Why—”

"It need not concern you. I will take you to the carriage.”

Athena's mouth set in an obstinate line, so unlike its usual gentle curve. Caitlin looked

from sister to brother. Oh, yes, there was rebellion here. "You didn't have to worry about

your sister, Mr. Munroe," she said. "She has been quite safe with us.”

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His face reddened, a most unexpected sight on one so exalted. "I wish to speak to you,

Miss Hughes. If you will kindly remain here until I return.”