Chapter Twenty-Eight
TWENTY-EIGHT
To my shock, we reach our train in time. That’s one thing I’m learning about fights—they don’t last long. Interrogating the lone wolf took longer than the entire battle, and our hansom cab arrives as the train is still pulling into the station.
As we climb out, Julius spots us and strides over. “Did you need me to schedule a wake-up? We’d begun to wonder…”
He trails off as he catches sight of us.
I’d cleaned us up as best I could in the cab, and there’s no longer any blood.
Also, Bishop removing his jacket for the fight did more than grant him extra mobility.
The jacket now covers his torn and bloodied shirt.
But nothing can hide our cuts and bruises and general dishevelment.
“We will explain on the train,” Bishop says as Rufus catches up. “Conceal us as best you can, to avoid questions, and I will change my shirt in our compartment.”
They walk close, blocking us from the view of others. Once we’re on the train, and tidied up properly, Bishop explains what happened as I prepare breakfast from the hamper.
“Do you know why you have an enforcer?” Rufus says. “To guard against exactly this sort of thing.”
“I had Cordelia,” Bishop says mildly. “We handled it.”
“And now everyone knows that the new Alpha walks around without an enforcer. You were lucky. I know you can fight, and obviously Cordelia can, too, but this is my job. Next time, you will take me up on my suggestion, which will also no longer actually be a suggestion but a demand. If you want me to be your enforcer, Bishop, you let me be your enforcer. I don’t care if you and Cordelia walk ten paces ahead of me. I watch your back. That’s my job.”
“Silas didn’t take Henry everywhere he went.”
“Because Silas was a fool. Also, Silas was an established Alpha. After a while, you, too, can stroll through strange cities with your wife. But this encounter proved that you need to start thinking about how you present yourself. Because people—supernatural people—are watching, and they are taking your measure.”
Rufus pauses for breath before adding, “And if you say they took your measure when you bested four supernaturals and a werewolf—”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” Bishop cuts in. “I concede your point. I’m not accustomed to this, and I am accustomed to needing to prove myself.”
Rufus’s voice softens. “Which you have, Bishop, by beating Silas. It’s good that you and Cordelia fended for yourselves in that alley.
Especially for Cordelia. They need to know she isn’t a shrinking violet.
But that could have been done with me there as well, and then it shows that you both can fight, even if you don’t need to. ”
“All right,” Bishop says.
“All right what?”
Bishop glares at him and then shakes his head. “All right, you should have my back when we’re in a strange place.”
“Thank you.”
It’s evening when we arrive in Cardiff. Since the Cambrian Pack isn’t official and doesn’t hold territory, we have no concerns about leaving the train station. We will, however, stay in the city center until morning, and then we’ll set out to where Bishop expects to find them.
We exit the train with our bags, and Rufus heads out to get us a cab. We’re surveying the station when Bishop turns, slowly, nostrils flaring. Julius and I tense and look around, expecting to see werewolves.
Instead, I follow Bishop’s gaze to a red-haired woman sitting ramrod straight on a bench, carpetbag at her side. Bishop turns a slow look on Julius, and his cousin lifts his hands.
“I didn’t tell her to come,” he says. “I wouldn’t.”
The woman gets to her feet, picks up her bag, and marches over.
“Ann,” I say with a smile, and I resist the urge to greet her with an embrace. “We didn’t expect to see you here. Are you…?” I trail off as I look around.
“Alone? Yes. Tabitha is with Oliver. You sent your schedule to him so I knew where to find you.”
“All right but—”
“I was tired of cooking and cleaning for your wolves, Bishop, and they were not learning to do it for themselves as long as I was there. They won’t dare expect Tabitha to do it—Oliver won’t allow that. So they will learn or starve.”
“I understand,” Bishop says. “I’m sorry they expected that of you, but if you had simply refused, Oliver would have supported you.”
Her jaw sets. “Are you telling me to go back?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m free to do as I like now, aren’t I? No longer bound to the Pack?”
“Correct.”
“Then I choose to come here.”
“Ann…” Julius says.
“Don’t take that tone with me. You are a year my junior, and this Alpha is two.” She fixes her gaze on me. “And you are little more than a child.”
I sigh. “Ann, you’re clearly upset but—”
“Overreacting? Acting hysterically?”
Now I’m the one fixing her with a look. “I would never say that. We’re concerned that you are here, when Bishop is in the middle of a very dangerous situation.”
“Because I can help, and I am tired of being left behind to do the housekeeping. I have spent most of my life as a servant to the Pack, and I am an Alpha’s granddaughter, same as you. I can do more. I will do more.”
“You’re free to do whatever you like, Ann,” Julius says softly. “You know that, yes? You can take Tabi or leave her with the Pack, and you can reclaim your life.”
“Reclaim what life?” she says, and while her gaze is defiant, her eyes glisten.
“Do you know how difficult it was for me to get here? To figure out how to find a train station. To buy a ticket. I had to follow other passengers to see how they did it and even then I made mistakes. The last time I left Trevelyan, I was nine. Nine years old, with my mother, and we went to the village for tea.”
“That was thoughtless of me,” Julius says. “I apologize.”
“I don’t blame you for my situation. Or him.
Or her.” She points our way. “When you arrived at Trevelyan, I was already a grown woman working in the kitchen. The only person who understands is my uncle, and he’s promised to help if I want to leave, but he can’t do that right now, and I want to do something now. ”
Before anyone can comment, she says, “I can be Cordelia’s lady’s maid.”
“You’re not a maid,” I say softly. “You’re my cousin.”
“Well, then, I’ll be that. Cordelia is a respectable married woman. She shouldn’t travel without a female companion. Yes?” She tries to sound resolute, but I can tell she’s unsure, not knowing the customs beyond the walls of Trevelyan.
“Having a companion would be considered proper,” I say, “and while the Cambrian Pack may not realize that, it would make a reasonable excuse.”
“I can help,” Ann says. “I’m accustomed to werewolves. I can move easily and unobtrusively among them.”
Julius makes a face. “I’m not sure a woman can move unobtrusively among werewolves. You’ll attract attention you don’t want.”
“I know how to handle it. Whatever Silas inflicted on my mother and me, wolves never bothered us. If they expressed interest, I politely refused, and they stopped trying.”
“Because they recognized you were still the Alpha’s niece.”
“And here I will be the Alpha mate’s cousin and companion. Also, we will be far from the only women there. They have whores.” She catches my expression. “Fine, I know you hate that word. They have women. That’s how the Cambrian Pack operates.”
She sees Julius’s and Bishop’s expressions, and a sly smile crosses her face. “You didn’t know that.”
“We have heard rumors,” Bishop says.
“But I know details. About that and more.” At their confusion, she says, “I might never have left Trevelyan, but I still know things beyond its walls. Bishop, you used to send William to check on the Cambrian Pack, assess their movements, even parley with them, yes?”
When Bishop says “Yes,” it’s with a solemnity that tells me William didn’t survive the massacre at Trevelyan. Yet another wolf I can’t even picture. Another reminder that if I am part of this Pack, that can never happen again. No wolf can be anonymous.
“Well, William and I would talk together sometimes,” Ann says.
“We’d go out on walks, and if other wolves thought we were doing something else, that was to his advantage.
He was a good man, so I was happy to help.
I would ask about his travels and about the Cambrian Pack and he told me everything.
Including things he thought didn’t interest you. ”
“Like the fact that the Cambrians have women living with them,” I say.
“Yes. I suspect they got the idea from the Albion Pack. Women to cook their meals and warm their beds. But, being young, they lean heavily toward the bed part, which means…” Her lips quirk in a humorless smile.
“From what William said, I wouldn’t advise eating the meals.
I doubt they’ll be up to your standards. We should pack a food hamper.”
She gives Bishop a crafty look. “Do you want more information?”
He sighs. “Yes, you can come along. But if you think the fact they have wh—women will keep them from bothering you, I would not count on it.”
“I can take care of—”
“Annie?” Rufus has been striding over from the left, intent on reaching us. Now he stops short.
He stares. “Annie? My gods, look at you!”
Rufus then does something that I would never advise anyone to do unless they wanted to discover how well Ann can fight. He swings her clear off her feet in a bear hug.
“Please put me down,” she says without inflection.
He does so, but then grins at her. “You don’t recognize me? It’s—”
“Yes, Rufus, I recognize you, which is why I didn’t kick you where you would least like to be kicked.”
His grin only grows. “That’s my Annie. Look at you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, and she sighs but suffers both the familiar touch and the inspection.
“How old were you when I left?” he says. “Nine? Ten?”
“Nine.”
“That’s right. You’d just turned nine, and we had a party for you. Your grandfather got you a horse because you’d outgrown your pony.”
Ann tenses, just a little, but Rufus continues, oblivious. He withdrew from the Albion Pack while my grandfather was still alive, meaning Ann was living abovestairs, still the Alpha’s cherished granddaughter.
“I heard you and your mother left the Pack when Silas ascended,” Rufus says. “You returned later, I take it?”
Bishop clears his throat. “Did you manage to hail us a cab?”
Rufus glares at him. “Yes, but I’m talking to Annie. I haven’t seen her in twenty years. You can get another bloody cab.”
“No,” Ann says. “I’ve spent all day walking and riding in trains and sitting on that bench waiting. I might not have a werewolf’s appetite, but I am famished. I wish to clean up, change my dress, and get something to eat.”
“You definitely need to change,” Rufus says with another grin. “You look as if you’re a poor relation come to play governess for your wealthy relatives. The girl I remember wouldn’t have been caught dead in that dress.”
I open my mouth to cut in, but Ann responds smoothly, “I am no longer nine. My taste in clothing has changed.”
He eyes her drab dress. “Not that much.”
“I don’t know what you packed, Ann,” I say. “But we will make sure you have what you need before we visit the Cambrian Pack. Now, let us see whether we can all squeeze into that cab.”
We find lodgings within Bishop’s range of acceptability. Fine, it’s my range as well, and probably also Julius’s. We all need to learn to lower our standards, but as long as people keep showering us with money—first Hamish and then Beatrice—there’s no need to settle for less.
Our hotel isn’t grand, but Rufus still whistles walking in. He also jokes about whether it’s up to Ann’s standards. Again, we all duck the awkward presumption that Ann is still the pampered Pack daughter he remembers. How long we’ll be able to keep doing so is another matter.
I offer to help Ann unpack, which I’m hoping will give us a moment to discuss the situation, but she shoos me off. She’d like some time to herself, thank you, and she will see me at dinner.
When we reconvene on the street to find said dinner, Rufus shoots a dubious look at Ann’s dress, which is cleaner but not any nicer.
Like the rest of us, she’d fled Trevelyan with nothing but what she wore, and I wonder how she was able to find a secondhand gown that fits so well, but then I remember what Bishop said about her sewing skills.
She must have bought a cheap secondhand dress and quickly altered it.
When Rufus seems ready to comment, we divert him with talk of dinner.
“Ann should choose,” Rufus says. “Just nothing so fancy they won’t let me in the door. What sort of place would you like, Annie?”
Panic flickers across her face, and I realize she wouldn’t know much about restaurants. She’d visited them as a child—she mentioned going for tea—but that was a very long time ago.
“I would like to dine with Cordelia,” she says, before anyone can intercede. “You gentlemen may find your own restaurant.”
“I wish that we could do that,” Bishop says. “But Cordelia and I had an unexpected encounter in Glasgow, one that means she and I must remain with Rufus, who is acting as our enforcer. However, we could certainly dine at different tables within the same establishment.”
“There,” she says, pointing down the road. “That one. The Lion and Lamb?”
Julius clears his throat. “That is a pub.”
“And do they not serve food?”
“Yes, but—”
“You said I can choose what I want. That is what I want.”
“Then that is where we go,” I say.