Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) (32 page)

The wheeze of Malone’s breath filled the room, but Wolf ignored him as he attached the ear bobs to Alanna’s lobes. “There’s a necklace that goes with them, Alanna. It’s back at Dunmaglass, waiting for the clan chief’s wife. I’d like you to wear it when I take you to the Bolshoi next year.”

“Oh, God, the Bolshoi—you remembered.” She collapsed against Wolf’s shoulder amid a rush of tears. He gathered their babe in his arms, helped Alanna to her feet, and escorted her to the hallway.

Her jaw dropped at the sight of Maire Macintosh, her overcoat on and a shawl in hand as Wolf placed Glenda Mary in her arms. Alanna’s gaze flickered from the woman she detested to Wolf. Fury and confusion descended upon her.

“I’ll not leave her behind, Alanna. There’s much you still don’t know and there’s no time to explain. I’m not asking you to like Maire, just tolerate her until we get back to Dunmaglass, then the two of you can go your separate ways. I won’t see another family split up if I can help it.”

Alanna’s gaze flashed from Maire to Winston, “Oh!” she blurted out when she realized Wolf’s meaning. She threw her arms around Winston. “Oh, you’re coming along! My dear, dear brother.”

Winston slid an arm around her.

“Wait here,” Wolf said. “I have some business with your father.”

He turned and made his way back into the parlor. He stood in front of Malone, who sat at one end of the chesterfield opposite his wife, the warrior still holding a knife at his neck. Malone’s eyes were filled with panic, and he’d shoved his hands between his legs like a naughty boy awaiting punishment.

“You didn’t have to kill my mother,” Wolf said quietly. “If you had left things alone, your daughter would have had the position you coveted anyway. And her daughter after that. Now my mother’s blood and her murderer’s are mixed in my little girl and on into eternity. The only thing to stop the mingling of our families will be someone like yourself killing off the lineage.”

Malone’s entire body began to tremble.

Wolf regarded the pathetic creature before him. The words of Old Chinese echoed through his head
: If you want to truly destroy an enemy, you do not kill him. Instead, you remove his power. You demean him. You destroy all that he stands for within himself.

A sudden truth washed over Wolf like a fresh rain—Malone would never get past his anger and pride. He was stuck. He was a man of ambition living an empty life in a city filled with ambition. Nothing Malone could do, no amount of money he earned, would ever be enough to grant him a place here.

Killing Malone would only sweep Wolf back to despair. Old Chinese was right—Cain slaying Abel. Malone was a man destined to walk the earth shunned by those who had found peace.

“I’m taking your daughter and mine with me,” Wolf said softly. “If you ever so much as
think
of coming after any of us, I will have these gentlemen find you. And they will see to your death. A slow, long, painful death. Do I make myself clear?”

Malone carefully nodded as the knife pressed deeper into his neck.

“Oh, yes. There are a couple of things I’m going to have to ask of you before I leave.”

Malone only nodded again.

“I’m going to ask you to be a cooperative gentleman with your new employers.”

Malone’s brow furrowed.

“As we speak, all the brothels you own are under new management. They’re in good hands with the MacGillivrays at the helm.”

At Malone’s small grunt, Wolf continued. “They’ll make certain all the young women who wish to return to their homelands do so, and with enough funding to see to their needs. Any children sired by you or Jonathan will, of course, receive a lifelong trust. I’m sure you will be more than comfortable with that arrangement?”

Malone nodded again.

“There are a few of the MacGillivrays who would like to try their lot in America, but they don’t care much for the idea of running brothels. I’m sure you’ll trust their expertise in deciding which of your fine establishments can be turned into hotels and which will be sold off as empty buildings, stripped of their former occupants.”

A gurgle emanated from Malone’s throat.

“Oh, yes,” Wolf said. “It seems Jonathan Hemenway has curiously found passage to Australia. He carries some rather unique papers out of England that indicate he is to remain there, so I’m afraid you’ll have to give up your diamond mines in Africa altogether. Do I make myself clear?”

The knife pressing deeper at Malone’s throat caused another quick nod of his head. A bead of blood trickled into his collar.

“One last thing, Mr. Malone. These gentlemen are going to be watching you. For the rest of your life.” Wolf swept his hand around the room at the band of black-clad men. “Should you ever place another female in harm’s way, these men will escort you to a certain physician who will . . . how shall we say it . . . perform a
little
operation on you.”

Malone’s eyes grew wide as he realized Wolf’s intent. “Nnn . . . no . . . not to worry.” He tried to press into the sofa, away from Wolf, but the knife at his neck held him firmly in place.

Wolf reached into his sporran. “Here, Mrs. Malone. I believe this belongs to you.” He dropped the brooch made of little Malcolm Malone’s hair into her hand. “Thank you for looking after my mother’s things all these years.” He turned and walked away, to his daughter and to Alanna.

Mrs. Malone’s footsteps followed behind him. “A word, if you please, Mr. MacGillivray.”

He tucked Glenda Mary in his arms and turned, surprised at her soft-spoken words.

Mrs. Malone stood before him, her head held proudly.

“What is it?”

“Take me with you.”

Small gasps exploded around the room.

“Christ Almighty! You can’t be serious.”

Despite her brave front, her lower lip quivered. “Didn’t I hear you tell my daughter you would never split up a family if you had the power to prevent it?” Her chin rose higher. “Well, Mr. MacGillivray, you now have that terrible power.”

Wolf looked to Alanna and then to Winston. Their eyes were devoid of emotion, but their bodies grew rigid. He turned back to Mrs. Malone and studied her for a long moment, and then slowly, he shook his head. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mrs. Malone. You see, while Maire Macintosh desperately wished to mother her son, she was prevented from doing so by both you and your husband. But you—you had every opportunity to take an interest in your daughter, yet you never did. Don’t you think it’s a little too late to start now?”

A myriad of emotions raced through Mrs. Malone’s countenance that no amount of biting her lower lip could suppress. Suddenly, her eyes shimmered. And then tears spilled down her cheeks, dripped off her chin, and splotched her deplorable pink and brown striped gown. “You are quite right, sir. I have been a wretched mother. Truth be told, I’ve been a spineless creature, doing as I was told for so long that I lost sight of who I was. I won’t go into particulars right now, but suffice it to say that by the time I was Alanna’s age, I feared to be or do anything other than what was forced upon me.”

Wolf stood before her, his mind a sudden blur. He took in a fortifying breath to clear his head. “I fully intend to protect my wife and daughter, Mrs. Malone. They’ve been in harm’s way these past months.”

Abject fear replaced all other emotions running through her eyes. “Take me with you. Let me prove to you that I am more like my daughter than the misfit I have become.”

His chest tightened. “Don’t do this, Mrs. Malone.”

“Please,” she whispered, her chin quivering. “Give me six months to prove myself to Alanna and you. If I fail, send me back.”

When he didn’t respond, her gaze dropped to his daughter, asleep in his arms. “If you refuse, how will you ever know? What will you tell your child?”

He fought an urge to pull little Glenda tighter to him, and glanced at Alanna, at Winston, and finally, at Winston’s mother. A subtle shift in the demeanor of each gave Wolf pause. Suddenly, life with Old Chinese invaded his thoughts. What would the master of all masters do? A gentle force moved through him, as if urging him on. And then he knew what to do. He turned back to Mrs. Malone. “Come along then. You have five minutes in which to gather your things.”

“That won’t be necessary. I don’t wish to take a speck of what is in this house. Mr. Malone will see to funding me. He’d better.” It was obvious she knew something they did not.

Wolf moved to where Alanna stood and whispered in her ear. “Aren’t we in for one hell of an interesting life?”

 

The faint chime of a hall clock signaled the midnight hour. Wolf rolled onto his side and tucked Alanna closer to him. His senses stirred at the heat of her breath falling rhythmically against his chest.

He turned the thought over and over in his mind. There were days he still wondered if it was all a dream.

Alanna stirred. She flipped onto her back and nudged her naked hip against his. Her breathing fell back into a steady rhythm. He stroked her hair—haloed it more than touched it. His love for her ached through his bones.

His hand traced the swell of her hip, and his body quickened.

“Mmm,” she moaned sleepily and slid her hand over his growing ardor. “Lazy love, Wolf. Make soft, lazy love to me.”

He brushed her hair behind her ear and whispered, “You’re sure?”

Her response was a soft moan and a light squeeze around his erection.

Gently, so as not to jar her senses, he eased her legs apart. He caught his breath at her leg gliding around him. With the prowess of a jungle cat, he poised himself over her while he eased himself into her inner core. He shuddered as erotic fingers of pleasure ran over him.

He moved within her, slowly and tenderly. Her breath caught in a little moan. Tilting her pelvis, she murmured, “I love you so much, Wolf,”

At her response, he moved in deep, unhurried thrusts. The act of making love to her while she half-slumbered cast him into his own private, erotic world. The onset of her climax, accompanied by her soft whimpers, was heady perfume. But the added anticipation of the morrow, when she’d cast him a sultry smile and thank him for what she liked to call “lazy love,” sent him over the edge with a shudder.

He rolled back onto his side and with Alanna held snugly in his arms, he lay awake until nearly dawn, thinking. He heard the stirrings of his daughter. Her clothing would be soaked through. If he didn’t get to her soon, she’d fuss and wake Alanna. Sliding from the bed, he donned his robe and made his way to the small nursery adjacent to the bedchamber.

“Shh, shh,” he whispered. Quickly, he cleaned his daughter with a soft cloth dipped in witch hazel, then changed her clothing and wrapped her in a fresh blanket. Gathering her in his arms, he sat in the rocker, and slipped his little finger into her mouth. She sucked furiously.

“Sweet heaven, you take my breath away.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. The suckling ceased and she stilled. Her mouth and tongue flattened against his finger and he knew she grinned up at him in the darkness.

“Don’t you giggle,” he whispered. But she did. “Shush, you’ll wake your mum.” She cooed softly before she went back to her sucking. Wolf leaned his head against the chair back and settled in to watch the coming dawn. A tree thumped against the nursery window. Glenda Mary’s suckling grew weak and then ceased as she fell back asleep.

Strange how the sound of a tree thumping against the house used to frighten him while it soothed her. He returned Glenda to her crib and slipped out of the nursery, into his clothes and out to greet the dawn with Old Chinese.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets for warmth and leaned against the tree near the sacred funeral site, and settled in to await the sunrise.

What a day yesterday had been. His birthday. By God, he finally knew when it was, and he had damn well celebrated it. Kinsmen had gathered from a hundred miles around while pipers wailed and torches flamed. The Thompsons were there with their daughters, as were Trevor and Celine, who each held a twin, asleep through it all, while their older son, Brandon, ran circles around the pipers. Little Mary Thompson, Jamie MacGillivray, and the two dogs, Bear and Julia, chased after them in hot pursuit.

Winston held Glenda Mary, old enough to look around wide-eyed while chewing on the brim of the bonnet she’d snatched from her head. Edna Fraser clutched Winston’s other arm and stared up at him in adoration.

Mrs. Malone, dressed in gaudy attire, had bustled about in nervous anticipation of the May fifteenth wedding. Except for her awful taste in clothing, which remained unchanged, she was indeed a different woman since departing Boston. She wore her dear Malcolm’s brooch pinned close to her heart at all times, and her efforts to build a familial relationship with her daughter and Wolf impressed the hell out of him. She’d even begun helping Alanna and Maire Macintosh deliver baskets to the needy. Recently, he’d heard her light laughter float in from another room, something he’d never known before. Her only complaint since arriving in the Highlands had been some mutterings under her breath about screeching bagpipes rattling her nerves.

A wicked grin touched Wolf’s mouth. He’d have to see to it that pipers played more often.

The wind curled around him. The pain of missing Old Chinese mixed with love for his wife and daughter caught him off guard. He closed his eyes, and hot tears tipped his lashes. Sometimes love cut so deep it caused terrible pain, or crossed paths with the joy of his present experiences.

“So this is love.” He wiped his sleeve across one corner of his eye.

He felt Alanna before he saw her. Glancing up, he caught the swirl of a red cape in the breeze.

“Listening to the wind again?” She slipped into the curve of his arm and leaned her head against his chest. “What was it you heard this time?”

“That I impregnated you while you slept.”

The quick smile that touched her lips told him memories of their sensuous night were not his alone. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “Thank you for last night, dear husband. I don’t think I shall ever get tired of loving you.”

He pressed his lips atop her head. “I want another child, but I’m afraid you might be harmed and it pains me. You understand, don’t you? I love you so much it wounds at times.”

She nodded and tightened her hold around his waist. “They say when you touch the face of God through those you love, the joy of it is so great, it is filled with equal pain.”

“It’s not ‘they’ who said it,” Wolf responded. “It was Old Chinese.”

The wind kicked up just then, and swept around them in small whirls—whispering secrets to them.