The Wolf's Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(45)

"I should. Shouldn't I?" Hunter leaned forward and caressed her face. "I see it. I did not think I would, but I see it. I see what the Wolf sees in you. Never lose your fight, love."

"Are you drunk?" Gwen leaned in. Perhaps there was whiskey on his breath?

"I wish I were. Perhaps then this nightmare would finally free me from its clutches." Hunter dropped her hand. "If you do not heed my advice, I will tie you up."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Gwen mumbled.

Hunter threw his head back and laughed. "I mean it, my lady."

"So now you call me a lady, after all we've been through? Not Red? Sheep? Nut or plain old Gwen?"

"Nothing about you is plain, my lady." He smiled warmly. "So I ask again, what will it be?"

"I will not stay."

"Then you leave me no choice." With a wicked smile he yelled at the top of his lungs. "My lady! Do you mind! I am not a piece of meat that you can throw yourself upon when you suddenly have an urge!"

"What are you doing?" Gwen hissed and smacked him on the arm. Insanity, it seemed, had finally caught up with her partner. Pity, she had always bet he would die of alcohol consumption first.

"My lady! Hands off!" Hunter smiled brightly. "I will not seduce you!"

"Hunter, I swear I will—"

"What the devil is going on?" Montmouth burst into the room.

"Ah, Montmouth is it?"

Idiot. He knew who Montmouth was.

"Kindly tell me why—" Montmouth looked from Gwen to Hunter. "Why, er, why she was thrusting herself upon you?"

"Other than the obvious?" Hunter clapped his hands together. "After all, what woman wouldn't be curious about my… talents?"

Montmouth lunged for Hunter, but Hunter quickly moved away.

"It would be wise, Haverstone, to be quick with your explanation."

Hunter slowly walked to the door and stopped in front of Montmouth. "It seems your innocent little flower is not so innocent, for not but three minutes ago she threatened to kiss me. Apparently, the little girl wanted a bit of… rake."

"Leave," Montmouth said through gritted teeth. "Now."

"My pleasure, but do be careful about keeping her on a short leash. After all, Redding is on his way to take her on a walk. Wouldn't want her asking him the same favor. You could very well find her ruined."

Gwen watched in astonishment as Hunter ruined every single plan she had for that afternoon and possibly her life.

Upon Hunters exit, Montmouth slammed the door behind him and glared at Gwen. "What must I do to keep you safe from ruin? It seems you are even a danger to yourself!"

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but Montmouth held up his hand. A large vein in his head began to throb as if it too was angry. So she kept quiet.

"You will not interrupt me, and you will not leave this house."

"For how long am I to be kept prisoner?"

"Until I die!" Montmouth yelled.

Gwen bit her lip to keep from shouting back.

Montmouth cursed. "I did not mean that." He cursed again. "Women are a plague."

"I'll be sure to tell my sister you think so."

"Brat." Montmouth smirked. "Please, I do not care for gray hair. At least stay in the house until your sister returns, and she can deal with you."

"You are passing me off?"

Montmouth strolled back toward the door. "With pleasure. I'll be sure to have the staff watch you."

Just then the butler approached the door. "Viscount Redding to see you, my lady."

"I will take care of this." And with that Montmouth left the room.

Gwen had trouble deciding if she was more upset or impressed with Hunter's acting ability. He better have a good reason for keeping her away from Redding and it better be a matter of life or death. If not, then she was going to shoot him.





Chapter Twenty





Red—

Sometimes I imagine what your face would look like while reading these little love notes from yours truly. Do you blush? Does your body warm at the thought of my hands touching you? I find myself positively aroused thinking upon such things, which is why I think upon them often. Care to take a guess at what I'm thinking about doing to you now?

—Wolf





Hunter pounded on the door for the third time. Earlier that morning he had sent a perfect copy of the code to his grandfather for him to decipher. He knew it was of the utmost importance that he give the man time to look it over. Considering their last meeting, he had reasons to believe Lainhart's mind was indeed weak. Hunter had given him three hours to look at the code. It should be long enough.

He knocked again.

Where was that blasted butler?

It was nearing the time when Gwen and Redding would have their romantic walk, and he was planning on spying the entire time. He knew Gwen could take care of herself, but something about Redding did not sit well with him. Perhaps it was the idea that the man would be breathing the same air as Gwen. Not that he was jealous.

He pulled out his pocket watch and cursed. After one final knock went again unnoticed, he tried the door and pushed his way inside.