Raised By Wolves 3 - Treasure by W A Hoffman Page B

your intent?”
    He shook his head and frowned as if he were mulling over the matter. “Not by any design I was aware of. But… I have questioned the workings of my soul these last years, and occasionally it surprises me with…” He met my gaze, his eyes sincere. “Things I am both ashamed and proud of.”
    Something rose from the depths of my soul, and I realized it was sadness. I could never speak to my father this way. I once thought we had come close to it, that Christmas morn when he told me he wished for me to go to Jamaica, but even then I had seen the clockworks of his wolfish mind behind his eyes. I saw none of that in the man before me, and I knew it was not because my vision was blurred by tears and rum.
    “There is a great deal I would speak to you of,” I said.
    He was surprised. “There is a great deal more I have to say too, but not tonight, non?”
    “Non, not tonight.” I spied his cane, and how very dark the night was beyond the narrow, shuttered and barred window. “Did you come alone?”
    He nodded and grinned with some satisfaction. “I escaped them.”
    I grinned in return. “Good for you, but this is a dangerous town at night for a Lord who dresses like one.”
    He nodded amiably. “So I have heard.”
    “Do you wish for an escort back to your ship, or… would you choose to remain here? I believe, though I have just come to this house this night, that there are rooms for guests.”
    He leaned forward and took the bottle from my hand. “I believe I would like to drink more of this rum and then pass into oblivion without laying eyes on another soul. I would be content to sleep on this settee.”
    I smiled. Could the damn man now do nothing that I disliked? “I think we can do better than that, and thus assure that you will not be woken at an early hour, and if all goes well you will only have to suffer the brief attentions of the housekeeper.”
    He grinned. “If you can arrange that, then I am pleased to be your guest.”
    I left him sipping rum and went to find Sam. He was surprised, but willing to show the Marquis to one of the guest rooms. I assured him the Marquis probably did not wish to eat, but that a good supply of fresh water should be left for him to find in the morning.
    I found Striker, Pete, Sarah, Agnes and Rucker eating in a fine dining hall along the left side of the house. Rucker bounded to his feet at my appearance and rushed to greet me, but upon seeing my face, he paused. The others were frowning at me as well.
    “I am well, now. And Gaston will be, in time,” I assured them. “I will greet you properly on the morrow, my dear friend,” I told Rucker. And then I informed my sister, “We have a guest. I hope you do not mind. I asked Sam to show him to a room.”
    “He’s staying here?” Striker asked incredulously.
    “Aye,” I sighed. “He seems genuine in his wish to mend things.”
    “Some things can’t be mended, Will,” he said.
    I walked the length of the table to cuff his head. “We will forgive who we want, when we want,” I hissed in his ear.
    Sarah and Pete laughed.
    Striker appeared recalcitrant, even amused. “Aye, aye. It is your concern.”
    I took a thick hunk of beef from the platter and left them. I was not hungry, but I knew it would be best if I put something in my belly, and Gaston should too.
    I found him curled on his side close to Bella and the puppies. His eyes were open, but he was oblivious to the world. He was not moving to stop Bella from cleaning his face.
    I decided he would not eat, and after taking but a mouthful, I split the meat between the Bella and her mate. Then I doffed my weapons and went to lie behind Gaston. As I positioned a pistol within reach above our heads, he spoke.
    “You do not like straw.” It was the Child’s voice.
    “I feel it will not call forth any bad memories this night,” I murmured as I curled around him.
    He settled back against me. “You are loved,” he whispered.
    “As are you.”
    I