Tea, Lycanthropy and Other Virtues

Chapter Thirty-Five

Dinner consisted of stew, warm, crusty bread, butter, and hot tea. It was one of the best meals Hugh had ever eaten. The dining room was an entirely different beast with other people in it. They were all dressed in sleeping gowns and fur-lined robes. Simon swam in clothes that had once belonged to him, but it was Constance he couldn't stop looking at. Her hair was still damp, strands of it curled around her face. He so badly wanted to reach out and touch one. She was thinner than she had been the last time he'd seen her and something about that made him want to tear Baines in half.

"Feeling better?" Hugh asked, watching her dip a hunk of bread in her stew.

"Why do you ask?"

"Your teeth stopped chattering a few minutes ago."

Her shoulders relaxed, and he felt his own tension lesson. He needed her to be alright.

"Thank you," she said and he could feel regret thick in her tone. It made him nervous.

"Are you married now?" Simon asked.

For a moment Hugh thought he was asking if he and Constance were married, but then he realized what Simon meant. His focus had been on getting in and getting them out, and things didn't always make the same sense when he was in wolf form, so he hadn't realized what exactly had been happening. His stomach knotted.

"I don't—I don't think so," she said, pushing her soup aside. There was a tremor in her voice and Hugh had to imagine pulling Baines's head from his body in order to keep the wolf from snarling.

"It was in Latin," Simon explained to Hugh. "I couldn't really tell what was happening."

Constance was staring at the table.

"Did you ever speak, Constance?"

"No," she whispered.

"Then you aren't married. Both the bride and groom have to give their consent for it to be legal in Scotland."

"Well then, how would that work?" Simon said around a mouthful of bread. "Why would Constance ever say 'yes', or 'I do' or whatever?"

She looked at her brother and then back at her soup before Simon saw the pain in her eyes.

The wolf lunged. Baines's deprivations knew no bounds, and she'd do whatever it took; sacrifice her freedom, her safety, to keep Simon safe. He knew it was true. Was it only one month ago when she'd asked Hugh to make sure her family was safe if he killed her?

Simon yawned. She looked at Hugh and forced a small smile. "I think I better get Simon to bed. It's been a very long few days."

"Of course," he stood.

"You needn't stop your meal if you just tell me the way."

"I let you get too far out of my sight before. I'm not ready to do that again."

Her cheeks turned pink and all he wanted to do was run his hands through her curls. He stopped himself. There was something guarded in her expression, the opposite of how she'd looked at him in London.

They were quiet as they made their way through the manor and up the stairs.

There were a lot of things he wanted to tell her, but he didn't know how to put words to the fact that almost losing her had nearly undone him. Wasn't sure how to say that she had bridged his human and wolf sides; that it was a completely new experience. How did he express to her the depths of sorrow at keeping her so far away, for making it easy for Baines to take her? Sorry didn't seem a strong enough word.

"This is it," he said, opening the door to her room. They had made up two beds, a four poster for her and a small one for Simon. "Mr. Butler thought your brother might need to be near you for a few nights."

"That's very thoughtful," she said, a catch in her voice as Simon pushed past her and collapsed on his bed.

Constance stepped inside. Hugh took her hand. She turned, surprised.

"If Baines had been successful in forcing you to marry—it wouldn't have mattered to me, Constance—it wasn't your fault."

Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"If he had hurt you—" he ran his thumb over her wrist. "I would have killed him. I may kill him still."

"Perhaps," she said, dropping her gaze. "Or maybe your feelings for me would have evaporated like smoke."

He didn't know what to say.

"Goodnight," she said, pulling her hand away. "And thank you," her voice dropped to a near whisper, "for coming for us."

"I'll always come for you, Constance."

She nodded, but her shoulders hunched as she closed the door. He stood there, confused. Hugh'd spent so much time keeping her at arm's length. He'd never really stopped to consider that she might not have been interested in him. He rested his head on the door, wondering just how much of a fool he was.

"Sir?" It was Carlson. "The butler found this on the lady's ruined gown." He handed Hugh a small bird pin.

Hugh studied it. He hadn't imagined the way she'd looked at him before dinner in London, or the surge of heat he'd felt when he'd picked her up off the floor tonight. He closed his eyes. Lands, he wished he were better at this.

"She's been through a lot."

Hugh jumped. He'd already forgotten Carlson was there. "Perhaps it's best for everyone to get a good night's sleep before any serious declarations."

"You've a lot of experience with the fairer sex?" He said with a weary smile.

"Some sir."

They started down the hall toward Hugh's rooms.

"Well, we have all night," Hugh said.

"Should take considerably less time than that if you know what you're doing."

Hugh laughed. Mr. Carlson always knew just what to say.