Tea, Lycanthropy and Other Virtues

Chapter Thirty-One

It bothered both Hugh's valet and the butler when he didn't eat in the dining room, but it was hard to ignore your loneliness at a long silent table. Usually he was too polite to refuse, but he was too tired the day after a full moon to face the looming quiet so instead he sat in the card room, eating his supper, a small fire breaking up the quiet and keeping the rainy chill out of the air. The corgi jumped into his lap, barely avoided his plate, and then wedged her round bottom between him and the armrest. The large shaggy beast of questionable parentage slept in front of the fire.

He set his plate aside and leaned back, his mind drifting. Would it be so bad to let Hannah bring Constance and her family here for the summer? He'd spent last night safely locked away in the cell like he did every full moon. It only takes one accident, his mother's voice whispered. He sighed wearily.

A jolt of fear sang through him.

He sat up, his heart pounding, the hairs on his neck on end, the wolf inside him alert. There was just the slightest hint of wildflower in the air. The dogs lifted their heads in concern.

He searched inside himself. Self-loathing always tinged his own fear. This had been something else. His senses reached out. There was nothing out of the ordinary, the normal evening sounds; birds, creatures in the underbrush. He forced his muscles to unclench, and stretched his neck back and forth. Let the post full moon fatigue creep back in around the edges.

His ears pricked at the sound of a galloping horse coming up the road. He followed its progress absently, but when they didn't turn toward the village and kept coming toward the manor, he frowned. Someone was riding hard. The cadence changed as hooves hit the long brick drive.

Hugh stood, the corgi jumped down looking at him, annoyed. He made his way to the hall in time to see the butler approaching with a lit candle. The old man didn't even have time to grab the handle before the door flew open, nearly knocking the poor man in the head.

Owen stood there, soaked to the bone. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"They broke in, sir," he said, chest heaving. "Werewolves, I think."

The butler ushered the man in and took his wet cloak.

Owen's shoulders sagged. "They took Miss Allen and her brother. I'm sorry. You sent me to watch over them and I failed."

Hugh's instincts buzzed to high alert. He wanted to burst into the night, but he didn't know where she was, though he could guess. He nodded to the butler, who hurried off to get Owen something to drink.

"My sister?"

"Upset but unharmed."

He led Owen back to the card room and pulled the chair closer to the fire, motioning for Owen to sit. The gamekeeper sank into it and both dogs came and pressed against him. The canines adored Hugh, but they loved Owen too.

"Was it Baines?" Hugh asked with a growl.

"I don't know. There was someone else there, but they didn't come in the house and they had us trapped in the parlor."

"Is everyone else alright?" He forced himself to take even measured breaths. Retribution would come soon enough.

Owen nodded. "The butler and the maid must have eaten something that knocked them out."

"Premeditated then?"

"Yes sir, very. Your sister fought like a lion. You'd have been proud. They went straight for the kid. Miss Allen might have been okay, but she went after her brother. Why would they want to nab him?" Owen looked at Hugh seriously. "Mrs. Allen took a werewolf out with her bare hands. The constable has him now, but... Mrs. Allen, bare hands."

The floor dropped out from under him. Mr. Carlson had been right. "They were after Miss Allen, not the boy."

The butler came in and pressed a glass of something warm into Owen's hands. "I sent one of the lads to take care of the horse," he said, before giving them their privacy.

"I came as fast as I could. But at nearly every stop, they were out of fresh horses."

"It was Baines then," Hugh said, untying his cravat. "He was getting to them before you, but that means he's brought her back to Scotland."

Mr. Carlson rushed in.

"How was a lady of advanced years that strong? How could any lady or person be that strong?" Owen asked, his eyes haunted.

"Mr. Carlson and I have a theory, but we're not positive. Seems like there are some things my father never got around to telling me before he died."

"If they took Miss Allen, then I think we can assume we are correct," the valet said.

"Constance told me about being locked in your rooms at Bunsall. This could be another trap." Owen said.

"I know," Hugh said, pulling off his shirt.

"She could pose quite a threat to you," Carlson Continued.

"I know."

"If you had brought her here instead of leaving her in London—"

"I know," he growled.

"I'll come with you," Mr. Carlson said.

"No, I'm stronger and faster in wolf form." His heart beat strangely. He'd never thought of his wolf as a better option before.

A look passed between him and Carlson. He should have been training. Practicing the change, being in control, honing his abilities as a wolf. His father had forced him to train, but as soon as the old man had passed away Hugh had stopped. He'd thought he'd been wise refusing to give in to the beast, but now he needed the monster and he wasn't ready.

"They took Simon," Hugh said to Carlson. "There's only one reason you'd take a second hostage."

"To control the actual target," Carlson answered.

Hugh's stomach turned.

Carlson handed Hugh a leather satchel. He slung it over his head and shoulder.

"Greyfield keep is a fortress sir, it will be very hard to get in. The lock pick is in there, along with some other things. Good luck."

"Once I turn, get out of my way," Hugh said, his blood pounding war drums through his ears. "Be prepared for our return, they could be—" his voice broke. They could be hurt, she could be hurt. Baines had been willing to let her die a horrific death before. Who knew what he'd do now that she meant something to him? And it was his own fault. He'd pushed her so far away she'd been easy to grab.

"What if this is another trap for you, sir?" Owen asked.

Hugh was already walking to the door.

"Doesn't matter," he answered, just before he changed, welcoming the wolf for the first time in his life.