To Catch a Wolf (50 page)

a braided leather cord. She carried the bundle outside, dropped it in the snow, stripped,

and Changed.

Wolf's jaws closed around the cord. She could reach Denver much more quickly in wolf

shape, but there was no telling when she might catch up with Niall. If she found him in

the city, she would need the clothing.

She would need every tiny advantage she could get.

Human voices shouted, severing her thoughts. She had been seen, and no rancher

would balk at shooting a wolf. She burst from a standstill into a dead run. Rifle shot

cracked in her wake. Pellets of snow brushed her fur, and a second bullet exploded in

the ground where she had been an instant before. Then she was beyond human reach,

headed unerringly toward Denver.

It was when she had reached the foothills, just as the sun was sinking behind the Front

Range, that she remembered the significance of this night, the detail she had so

completely put from her mind. It was the night of the Winter Ball.

She barked a wolf's laugh around the leather between her teeth. The ball. The very

pinnacle of her social life, the event of which she had been so inordinately proud. What

had once seemed worth a year's painstaking effort had become just another self-

indulgent folly, a consolation prize to a woman who had misplaced the true meaning of

life.

Cecily would be at the ball, lording it over everyone. Nothing would stop her, not even

Athena's escape and its possible consequences to her designs upon Niall. Niall would

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expect Athena to be there under Cecily's vigilant eye. But he would not find his sister.

Not before she found him.

Tonight's Winter Ball would indeed be one to remember.

"I am sorry, Mr. Munroe" the unfamiliar servant said with a diffident shake of his head,

"but Miss Hockensmith has gone to the ball.”

The Winter Ball. Dammit, he had entirely forgotten about that bit of foolishness. Cecily

had mentioned that she'd changed the venue to the Windsor, but he'd forgotten that as

well.

Nothing tonight was what it should be. There had been no groom lodged in the rooms

over the stable to take his and Caitlin's weary mounts. Romero was gone. The house

was noticeably devoid of servants. Niall stood in the hall of his own home, staring into

the face of a man he did not know. Caitlin waited behind him, her gaze taking in the

vastness of the high ceiling and the gilt and marble embellishments. She was no more

lost than he.

"Who the devil are you?" he demanded, tossing the servant his gloves. "Where is

Brinkley?”

"I regret to say that Mr. Brinkley has tendered his resignation," the man said with an air

of false regret. "Miss Hockensmith felt it necessary to replace him and the other

servants who have since departed.”

Good God. Had the entire world fallen apart in the short time he had been gone? "The

other servants?”

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The man cleared his throat. "There have been a number of changes in the staff during

the past several days, sir. You may wish to consult Miss Hockensmith for the details.

Would you and the young lady care to rest in the parlor while I send for tea?”

"Miss Munroe has accompanied Miss Hockensmith to the ball?”

This time the butler was not so quick with an answer. "I

am not informed as to Miss

Munroe's whereabouts, sir.”

"What do you mean?" Niall seized the man's collar. "Where is my sister?”

"Sir

I

ah—" He choked and went very pale. "She has not been in residence since

my arrival. Miss Hockensmith said that

that she had run mad, threatening to

to kill

Miss Hockensmith if she attempted to restrain Miss Munroe. That is

all I know!”

Niall let him fall to the ground. Athena, run mad? Escaped? And Cecily had traipsed off

to the ball as if all was well, knowing where Athena must have gone. The sudden

resignation and hiring of servants was nothing compared to this.

"She went to warn Morgan," Caitlin said behind him. "She must have, knowing how

much you hated him. Lord, if she made it to the mountains—”

"She could be anywhere. Lost

" Or with him. Niall stumbled toward the door.

"You can't go back to the mountains now," Caitlin said, grasping his arm. He tried to

shake her off, but her grip was sure and fearless. "You're exhausted, and you would not

know where to look. She will find Morgan if he hasn't found her first.”

"If you are right, and he is alive." Niall stopped at the door, leaning his head against the

paneled wood. "He may have her now.”

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"Then you have a chance to do right, Niall. Let them go. Let them live the life they were

meant to have.”

Niall ignored her, icy panic racing through his veins. "Cecily," he said, biting off the

name. He snatched his coat from the stand where the new butler had hung it and threw

it around his shoulders. He didn't bother to question the servant further, but strode down

the hall and to the rear door facing the carriage house. Caitlin's footsteps drummed at

his heels.

He harnessed one of the horses to the fastest buggy and swung into the seat. Caitlin

climbed up beside him. With a grunt he lashed the chestnut out of the carriage house,

down the lane and into the street.

In a matter of minutes he had reached Eighteenth and Larimer. The carriages of

ballgoers made the streets almost as congested as they were during the business day,

and as he neared the Windsor every available space was occupied by a conveyance.

He drew the buggy as close to the Windsor as possible and tied the horse to a

lamppost.

"You have no part in this," he told Caitlin. "Stay here." She shook her head, jaw set. He

jumped down from the seat and started for the Windsor at a furious pace, not looking

behind to see if she followed.

Only two hours into the ball, Cecily reflected, and everything was utterly perfect.

She gracefully deflected a compliment from one of Denver's leading dowagers and

waved her fan with an elegant tilt of her wrist. The Windsor ballroom was crowded from

end to end with Denver's elite and visiting dignitaries, many of them people that bitch

Athena would never have thought to invite. The orchestra played sparkling melodies to

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delight every ear, and the refreshments in the adjoining room had been created by

some of the city's most skilled chefs. This was Cecily's triumph, and hers alone.

As long as Athena and her brother did not spoil it. Cecily glanced about the mirrored

chamber for the hundredth time. It was sheer foolishness to think that the bitch would

return after her escape four days ago. Doubtless she had either perished in the

mountains or found her lover and run off with him—if she had miraculously managed to

reach him before Niall.

Nevertheless, Cecily had circulated sly rumors about the reasons for Athena's sudden

disappearance. When she had told a few choice gossips that Athena was able to walk—

that she had doubtless been deceiving society for years—she had spiced the narrative

with the hushed, embarrassed account of how the girl had run mad and attacked her

like a wild beast, threatening her very life.

How ready were the bored matrons and misses of Denver to believe such a lurid tale,

especially when Cecily encouraged speculation that Athena had manipulated them into

making excessive contributions for pity's sake. Cecily showed them the substantial

bruise on her arm where Athena had grabbed her. She expressed compassion for the

young woman who had fallen prey to bad elements and her own weak nature. A little

truth here, a bit of exaggeration there, and she had laid the groundwork to explain

Athena's violent deterioration.

Cecily had alerted the police, of course, and told them that Miss Munroe had declared

her intent to travel into the mountains alone. If they had found the girl, Cecily would be

seen as having done her duty, and Niall could not fault her. Any accusations Athena

might make could be explained as resulting from her lunacy; Cecily had every

confidence of victory in a contest of wits. But the police had not found Athena, nor had

anyone been able to contact her brother because of the bitter storm. It was a tragedy

indeed.

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But the ball must go on. Everyone agreed, most solemnly, that Cecily was holding up

very well. She had done everything she could, but Munroe had expected too much in

asking her to care for a madwoman. Poor, demented Athena had done so much to

create the ball, even if she had turned her back on society as well as sanity. It would be

the height of irresponsibility to cancel the affair and deprive the blameless unfortunates

who would benefit from the money collected.

So Cecily had forged ahead, swallowing her unease. She well knew she had Niall to

face, assuming he returned from his confrontation with Holt. Perhaps he would not.

Cecily felt only a lingering regret at the prospect. If Athena was mad—and clearly she

was—he might be unstable as well. She could no longer bring herself to believe that

marriage to Niall Munroe brought advantages enough to outweigh the disadvantages—

particularly when she had begun to make some very promising acquaintances among

Denver's wealthy bachelors.

Cecily issued a brave smile for the benefit of her peers and declined a dance offer from

one such gentleman. Best to appear a little reserved, a little sorrowful over the recent

events than seem too quick to dismiss them. There would be ample time for celebration

after the ball, when her new social position was firmly established and she had dealt

with Niall. If he survived.

She was speaking to Mrs. Gottschalk, her back to the ballroom doors, when the murmur

of many voices swelled to the buzzing of a disturbed hive of bees. The music lurched to

a halt. Cecily paused in her solemn speech and turned around.

Niall Munroe stood in the doorway, mud-splattered and dressed as if he had arrived

straight from the wilderness, which very likely he had. At his shoulder stood the red-

haired creature Caitlin, as bedraggled as he.

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Cecily shrank in on herself as if she could hide from the gaze that raked the crowd.

Voices lifted in question, but no one approached Niall. He exuded violence like a rabid

dog.

"Does he know?" someone whispered behind her.

"Why would he be here if he did not? Look at his face!”

"The poor man

”

"He must have known she was mad.”

Oh, he knew; of that Cecily was certain. He had concealed Athena's lunacy behind a

mask of propriety and dependence. And he also knew that she was missing. He had

surely been to the house and spoken to the servants.

Cecily tried to breathe and felt her corset tighten about her chest. She should be well

prepared for this moment. She knew what she ought to do. She would appear all the

more heroic if she placed herself at Niall's disposal before he came in search of her.

But her feet would not carry her. Niall scanned each corner of the room, and at last his

gaze fell upon her.

He moved like a man bent upon murder. Cecily braced for attack.

"You let her go," he snarled, oblivious of several hundred pairs of eyes. "Where is she?”

Cecily drew upon her dignity and clasped her hands in an attitude of deep concern. "Mr.

Munroe. I understand why you are upset. I am sure this has been quite a shock. If only I

had been able to reach you." She would not ask him to find a more private place to talk.

She wanted the safety of witnesses.

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"I trusted you to watch her!" he shouted. "You let her go

you always wanted her out of

the way, didn't you?”

A woman exclaimed in frightened tones. "He is as mad as she!" another cried.

"Mr. Munroe," Mr. Osborn said, moving to Cecily's defense. "Please lower your voice.

There are ladies present, and this is not the time or place to—”

Niall struck out and sent the man staggering back. Caitlin caught his arm and hung on

as fiercely as a bulldog. A wave of motion rippled outward from the disturbance as

ladies and gentlemen scurried away.

"It is not

it is not what you think," Cecily said. "She attacked me. She threatened me