The Wolfe's Mate Part 6

'Oh, pray do not hold that against me. After meeting Miss Western, I shall certainly never try to kidnap a woman again unless I have it on good authority that she is the most docile creature whom a man might want for a wife.'

There was no doubt that his eyes were mocking and challenging her as he said this. He was trying to provoke her, no doubt of that, either. Well, she would not oblige him, not she!

Susanna cast her eyes down and said, 'I shall remember that, Mr Wolfe, so it will not surprise you that I have no intention of becoming docile lest you try to kidnap me again. Once was quite enough. On top of that, you have involved me in telling a farrago of lies when I publicly pretended that we had never met one another before tonight. Even to save my reputation I find that a trifle above my touch.'

Ben leaned forward and said softly so that none might hear, 'Oh, no, it's not above your touch. You played your part to the manner born, my dear. And enjoyed yourself while you did. Now, let us find Madame and tell her that we have just met for the first time in Lord Exford's ballroom and that your reputation is therefore safe and sound.'

What could Susanna say to that? She opened her mouth to offer him a swift retort, but before she could she caught his wicked eye upon her. Consequently all that she could do was splutter, 'Oh, you are impossible, quite impossible!'

And all he said in answer was, 'So I am often told. Now let us find Madame.'

There was no putting him down. On the other hand, Susanna flattered herself that he was not able to put her down either.

'Shall we cry quits,' she murmured to him, 'the past quite forgotten and start again, as though we truly had met for the first time when George Darlington presented me to you?'

Ben said nothing for a moment before looking down at her from his great height. 'There is only one problem with that. I do not wish to forget the spirited young miss who sparked at me from the moment we first met. I think that I prefer her to tonight's proper young lady who only says what she ought.'

'Really, Mr Wolfe? Really? In that case am I to understand that you are giving me leave to be as impertinent to you as I please-whenever I please?'

'I would prefer that to being in the company of a bread-and-b.u.t.ter Miss Prim, so I suppose the answer is, yes, I am.'

This was becoming dangerous, was it not? Was Mr Wolfe descending from kidnapping her to engaging in a lesser, but more subtle, form of seduction? Did he find the newly polished Miss Beverly attractive? Or had George Darlington's obvious interest in her made him jealous?

'Dear, dear,' Susanna said, almost ruefully. 'I seem to have uttered a challenge to you which I had not intended. You were meant to say, "Oh, no, my dear Miss Beverly, you misunderstood me quite," or some such nonsense, not fling the ball of conversation back at me quite so strongly.'

It was his head Ben flung back as he laughed aloud. Other heads turned to look at him in surprise. 'Ah, Miss Beverly, have you not yet discovered that I never do what is expected of me? No, no, that is not my way. And may I add that you possess the same talent-or, if you prefer, the same fault. It all depends upon one's point of view, does it not?'

To have discovered in a man whom she ought to despise someone who said aloud what she sometimes thought secretly overset Susanna a little. To hold him off, she decided to be impersonal, to put the conversation on a higher plane-if she could.'

'Ah, then you agree with Prince Hamlet: "There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so."'

'Prince Hamlet-who the devil's he?' asked Ben. 'Oh, I do beg your pardon, Miss Beverly. I should have said, "Pray, who is Prince Hamlet? And of what country is he a Prince?"'

Susanna could not tell whether he was joking or not, so she answered him in true Miss Prim fas.h.i.+on. 'Shakespeare's Prince Hamlet in the play of that name. I should not advise you to imitate him. He ended the play as a corpse on the stage-a n.o.ble corpse, but dead as a doornail all the same.'

'Oh, I do so agree with you. I have a rooted objection to ending up as a corpse-either on a stage or anywhere else-before my time, that is. I know little of Shakespeare, but I gather that a large number of the characters in his plays do come to an unfortunate end. By the by-you never told me of Hamlet's nationality.'

'He was a Dane, Mr Wolfe, and I do believe that you have been bamming me.'

'Not at all. A Dane, eh? I have never done business with a Dane. If one arrives in my counting house, I shall be sure to consult you as an expert on them. As it is, we have almost reached Madame and I must pay her my respects and relinquish you to the company of others. One thing before we part. Do you think that you could possibly refer to me as Ben in future?'

Susanna laughed up at him, unaware of how enchanting she looked and of how Mr Wolfe's heart twisted in his breast at the very sight of her as she teased him.

'What is it they say in the House of Commons? I demand notice of that question. And do we have a future-other than in chance meetings at b.a.l.l.s and other public functions? For the moment I think that you must remain Mr Wolfe.'

'Oh, yes,' he said softly, 'we do have a future, you may be sure of that. It is that future of which I wish to speak to Madame. Oh, I almost forgot, Mr Fitzroy has had the impudence to ask me to pa.s.s on his respects to you-by which he showed his lack of respect for me. I hereby do so, and ask you to respect me by not respecting him.'

What impudence! 'You may be sure that I shall respect whomsoever I please, Mr Wolfe, and if I choose to respect Mr Fitzroy, so be it.'

'Oh, bravo,' he replied, and gave her one of his deep bows. 'We must cross swords again soon.'

'Whenever you please.'

Thus they parted, Ben to speak to Madame, who had been watching them approach, a curious smile on her face, and Susanna to carry out the errand Madame had asked her to perform earlier and which meeting George and Amelia had interrupted.

'Whenever you have a moment, child,' she had said, 'you might find the library for me and discover whether the Exfords possess a copy of Les Maximes du M. le duc de la Rochefoucauld. If so, I would wish to ask Lord Exford's permission to borrow it.'

The library was in a room at the end of a corridor just off the Grand Salon. Not surprisingly Susanna found herself alone in it. Books lined every wall and window ledge. A map table stood in the centre. Standing by it was a small man clad in the dark clothes of a scholar or a clerk. He looked up as Susanna entered and bowed in her direction.

'Ah,' he said, 'a refugee from the ball. How may I help you? If help you need.'

He was so quaint and old-fas.h.i.+oned that Susanna smiled. 'My name is Miss Beverly. I am here at the request of my friend and mistress, Madame la Comtesse de Saulx. She wishes to know whether the library contains a copy of M. de la Rochefoucauld's Maximes.'

He smiled at her. 'Indeed it does.'

'And would Lord Exford be prepared to lend it to her?'

'If Madame la Comtesse made such a request of him in proper form, I have little doubt but that he would agree to it.'

Susanna thanked him prettily, and looked wistfully around the room. She would have liked to explore the bookshelves filled with such treasures, but she had a duty to return.

On the other hand, she felt that there was one question which she could ask. 'I wonder if, before I leave, you would show me M. de la Rochefoucauld's treatise?'

'By all means,' he said. 'I will bring it to the map table for you. You must not soil your dress by carrying it. Pray take a seat.'

Susanna did as she was bid and presently the librarian, whose name, he told her, was Dr Strong, placed before her two elegant volumes bound in splendid red leather decorated in gold leaf, with the coat of arms of the Exfords on the front.

He opened the first volume for her, saying, 'I hope that you are a strong-minded young lady, Miss Beverly. The Duke was a very sardonic gentleman and his Maximes are cynical in the extreme.'

Susanna said gaily, 'You need have no fear, Dr Strong. Time and chance have shown me that the world is not a bed of roses.'

The books had been published in France and the type, though elegant and beautiful was a trifle difficult to read. And Dr Strong was right, Susanna soon found. M. le duc was indeed cynical. She laughed out loud at one gem. 'We all have strength enough to endure the troubles of others.'

Regretfully Susanna closed the book. She would read it when Madame borrowed it. Before she did so, however, she turned to the t.i.tle page-to discover there an inscription in a woman's elegant handwriting.

'To Eleanor Exford on her marriage, from her true friends, Charles and Margaret Wolfe.' Beneath it a date had been written: 14th July, 1780. The book had been given to the present Lord Exford's late mother and father.

She stared at it. Were they in any way related to Ben Wolfe? And was it a coincidence that Madame de Saulx, who was Ben Wolfe's friend, should wish to borrow a book which had been the gift of persons called Wolfe?

Susanna shook her head. She was probably seeing mysteries where none existed. After thanking Dr Strong prettily, she made her way back to the Grand Salon and was about to enter it when she was stopped by a gentleman coming from the opposite direction. It was George Darlington, without Amelia hanging on his arm. It was not long since she had seen him, but now his face was flushed as though with drink.

Susanna knew that at such occasions there was often a small private room to which bored gentlemen retired to drink away from women and ceremony. She would have liked to avoid him but, on seeing her, he held out his arm, saying, his voice slightly slurred, 'Well met, Miss Beverly. Allow me to escort you back to the Salon. Or would you prefer that we delayed our return a little?'

'By no means, Lord Darlington. I have been performing an errand for Madame la Comtesse and I am already somewhat late returning...'

'Oh, come, Madame is not an ogre. She could spare you a few moments more. There is an anteroom not far away where we could enjoy ourselves a little. Neither of us would be missed, I am sure.'

He had taken a firm hold of her hand without her even willing it. Susanna tried to withdraw it, but in vain. He began walking her briskly towards the little anteroom which he had mentioned.

'Please release me,' said Susanna, trying to deter him by sounding as matter-of-fact as possible. 'I have no wish to accompany you anywhere, least of all to a small private room where we shall be alone. Pray remember that you are betrothed-and to the young lady who was recently my charge.'

'That has nothing to do with this,' said George. 'I had no notion that you were such a brisk little piece. Why should we not enjoy ourselves? Others do,' and he grasped her hand more firmly than ever.

This is ridiculous, thought Susanna, trying not to panic. First Ben Wolfe kidnaps me, thinking that I am Miss Amelia Western, and now Amelia's betrothed is trying to seduce me while Amelia is otherwise engaged in the Grand Salon!

Her adventures, or rather her misadventures, were rapidly becoming the subject of farce-except that George's intentions were not really farce at all. She couldn't scream for help-to do so would create a scandal which she would not survive, though George might.

Nevertheless she said, 'If you will not be a gentleman, sir, and release me, I shall be compelled to call for help.'

'Scream away,' said George unkindly, 'and complete the ruin which your being jilted started on its way.'

No doubt Amelia had informed him of that, which was why he was being so bold with her. They had reached the door to the anteroom and George began to drag her through it. The drink might have destroyed his common sense, but it seemed to have had little effect on his strength.

Afterwards Susanna wondered whether M. de la Rochefoucauld would have found a clever little phrase to describe or illuminate what happened next so far as its unexpectedness was concerned.

She had just begun to kick George's s.h.i.+ns, hard, exclaiming, 'I really shall scream if you don't desist on the instant,' when a voice behind them said, 'What the devil's going on here?'

It was Mr Ben Wolfe. Before he had finished speaking, he seized George by his cravat and began methodically to strangle him. George, gasping for breath and slowly turning blue, was compelled to release Susanna in order to try to dislodge Ben's hands by pulling them away with both of his own.

George was not a small man, but he was no match for Ben. Susanna, released, staggered backwards. Ben said to her, over his shoulder, 'Leave us, Miss Beverly. I wish to teach Lord Darlington a lesson, but not in your presence.'

Feebly, as she afterwards thought, Susanna said, 'You won't kill him, will you? Think of the scandal.'

'What and hang for him?' said Ben through his teeth. 'Credit me with some common sense, Miss Beverly, and display your own by returning to Madame, and saying nothing to anyone of this.'

So they were conspirators yet again in a plot to save her good name. And common sense said that she obey him. Her last sight of George was as he sank to his knees when Ben loosened his murderous grip on his neck.

He didn't stay there long. Ben pulled him to his feet, thrust his face into George's and said in a voice which would have cut steel, 'Listen to me, Darlington, as you value your life. You are not to approach Miss Beverly again, neither are you to allow that wretched shrew whom you are doomed to marry to bait her in public or in private. Fail to oblige me in this and I will find an excuse to call you out and dispose of you for good.

'Now, give me your word and I will let you go, unscathed. Were we other than at a public function in Lord Exford's home I would have given you the thras.h.i.+ng you deserve, but I have no intention of providing society with a scandal to t.i.tter about.'

'Yes,' croaked George, fingering his abused throat. Ben had been careful not to mark him in any way.

'Yes, what?' exclaimed Ben, grabbing him by the cravat again. 'Say it clearly and plainly, if you please. I, George, Viscount Darlington, promise not to approach Miss Beverly again and I will also prevent Miss Amelia Western from abusing her. I also apologise for any unhappiness or distress I may have caused her.'

'Damme,' moaned George. 'You hardly leave a fellow a voice to say all that,' but he said it all the same.

'Good,' said Ben. 'Now, get out of my sight before I'm tempted to give a fellow what he deserves.'

George staggered away, to turn at the door and say, 'You'll pay for this, Ben Wolfe, see if you don't.'

'Oh, please,' returned Ben, 'pray try to make me pay as soon as possible. I shall enjoy giving you a second lesson in manners much more than the first.'

His victim could think of no clever answer to that but to give his tormentor his back and leave.

Susanna had made her way back to Madame, who was seated with a small crowd around her. Madame signalled to her to sit beside her before enquiring whether her errand had been a successful one.

'Very,' replied Susanna. 'The librarian, Dr Strong, will ask Lord Exford whether you may borrow M. de la Rochefoucauld's Maximes. He supposes that m'lord will give his consent.' She said nothing of the inscription which had intrigued her.

'Excellent,' said Madame. 'Mr Wolfe grew a trifle perturbed when you were so late in returning. He thought that you might have met with some mischance, so I suggested that he look for you in the library although I scarcely thought that you were in any danger there. He must have missed you on the way back.'

Susanna did not correct her. Secretly she was shocked at how greatly her ability to deceive had grown since she had met Ben Wolfe. His many naughtinesses must be catching, she decided.

Madame showed no sign that she thought that Susanna might not be telling the absolute truth. Indeed, when Ben returned she said brightly, 'You see, sir, your agitation over Miss Beverly's late return was unwarranted. Here she is, quite unruffled.'

Ben raised his thick eyebrows. 'Agitated? I was scarcely that. In any case, I never reached the library. I met an old friend and we had a most fruitful discussion. At least, I found it so. We were so long that I decided to return immediately, thinking that Miss Beverly might well be with you again by now. I see that I was right.'

Well, manhandling George was one way of having a fruitful discussion-on Mr Wolfe's terms! Susanna supposed. She wondered what having an unfruitful one with him might entail! George left dead on the floor, perhaps.

Aloud she said, 'Your care for me is exemplary, Mr Wolfe. I thank you for it.'

By the twitch of his lips Susanna knew that he had taken her double meaning.

'Not at all, Miss Beverly. I am always happy to be of service. I am not a dancing man, but I would be honoured to take the floor with you this evening-if you would so oblige me.'

His bow as he said this was a deep one. Susanna found herself trembling as he straightened up and she met his magnetic gaze. She had read of Dr Mesmer and his experiments, that it was possible to bend someone to your will by the power of that will. She could well believe that Ben Wolfe possessed that power.

It was the only explanation which she could find for the extraordinary effect which he had on her. Her mouth opened slightly, she licked her lips and swayed forward. She had a hard task preventing herself from stammering like a green girl at her first ball.

At the back of her mind was the memory of the summary manner in which he had treated that cur, George Darlington. Far from being horrified at his disposal of George, she had felt excited. Knights of old protected their ladies, she knew, but she was scarcely Ben Wolfe's lady. All the same it was comforting that someone cared enough about her to punish anyone who was mistreating her.

On the other hand, even as Ben led her on to the floor, she was remembering the harsh way in which he had spoken of Lord Babbacombe's family when he had been under the impression that she was Amelia-as well as his summary kidnapping of her. Perhaps there was more to his treatment of George than met the eye.

For a big man who claimed that he did not care for dancing, he danced surprisingly well, being very light on his feet as she had already noticed at the Leominster's ball. What disconcerted Susanna-and although she did not know it, Ben also-was that, as they touched, something like Dr Mesmer's famed electric response in frogs ran through them. That it was to do with Ben alone was made apparent by the fact that no other man's touch had ever brought about the same response.

But I am not a frog, Susanna thought wildly, so what can it mean? She tried not to catch Ben's eye as they moved through the stately parading of the dance, because if she did, that, too, possessed the power to excite her. And when they met, face to face, she had the oddest and most dreadful impression that all her clothes had fallen off. And if that was not bad enough, she found herself wondering what Ben Wolfe might look like with his clothes gone.

Of all improper thoughts for a respectable young lady to have! She would not have found any consolation in knowing that the totally unrespectable Mr Wolfe was having similar ones about her.

Unknowingly, her eyes dilated and shone. Her mouth opened itself slightly and the tip of a small pink tongue peeped out-a sight which drove Ben Wolfe mad. Like Susanna, he asked what was happening to him. Not because he was inexperienced in the ways of s.e.x, but because, although he had always been kind to the women he was involved with, he had never felt anything for them such as he was beginning to feel for Susanna.

Mixed with an intense desire to have her in his arms or in his bed, was an equally intense desire to protect her. She had been right to see murder in his eye when he had attacked George. It had taken him all his willpower not to beat the wretch senseless for daring to distress her. He had no idea how to respond to such strange and new emotions. Particularly when they were so contrary.

Neither Ben nor Susanna had ever found dancing so exciting before. It certainly added spice to an otherwise rather formalised ritual. Susanna had heard that no less a person than Lord Byron had founded waltzing immoral. What was surprising was that she felt immoral performing the quadrille-his lords.h.i.+p had never gone so far as to suggest that!

As if that was not enough, further spice was added to an already interesting evening immediately after the dance was over. Ben had scarcely had time to escort Susanna back to her place beside Madame when he was accosted by a large middle-aged gentleman wearing a star on his breast.

'Lord Babbacombe,' whispered Madame to Susanna. 'Lord Darlington's father. Whatever can he want with Mr Wolfe?'

To pick a quarrel with him, apparently, for he said in a high, angry voice. 'A word with you, Wolfe, I will not call you sir. I wonder that Lord Exford has invited you to pollute his home. He cannot know of your dubious reputation or he would not allow you to cross his threshold. I understand that you have had the impudence to make yourself obnoxious to my son. Let me inform you that, if I have my way, every decent house in London will be closed to you.'

By the time that he had finished speaking he was scarlet in the face. The object of his anger remained impa.s.sive. Ben's face had never before looked quite so carved out of granite.

'I am here, as you are, I suppose, as a friend of Lord Exford, and I must inform you that, if your son conducts himself in good society as though his true home is a nighthouse in the Seven Dials rather than a gentleman's mansion, I shall be as obnoxious to him as I please whenever I find him misbehaving. Although I have to say that his deplorable conduct does not surprise me for I have always found "like father, like son" to be a useful maxim in the conduct of life-and of business.'

Lord Babbacombe was now, to Susanna's fascination, turning purple. 'Oh, business,' he snarled. 'Hardly the stuff of conversation in the company of gentlemen. Well, never say that I did not warn you what your fate might be. And, speaking of fathers and sons, your own father's conduct would scarcely bare inspection.'

Ben's expression fascinated Susanna. It never altered. He was as calm as Lord Babbacombe was noisy, and his calm did not desert him now.