“He’s Wesley, Mother.” She beamed at him. She was saved.
“Phillipa, you must be delusional. There is no way this beast is your husband.”
Wesley stepped forward. “I am—”
“Come.” Her mother grabbed her arm, without letting him finish. “I can’t listen to any more of this nonsense. Father Donnelly is waiting for us in the carriage, and we need to leave soon.”
Of course he was. He’d been behind every frustrating decision and declaration Mother had made since her husband had passed.
“You mean to commit me,” Phillipa cried. “I won’t go.”
Mother raised a brow. “You plan to defy the Queen?
“Mrs. Willoughby, I mean to claim her,” Wesley said, blue eyes sparkling and fixed on Phillipa.
“I’m sorry, wolf? Wolven? I’m not sure what you are, but you are not helping the lady’s case. Phillipa, come with me.”
Countess Stalbridge approached. “We’ll fix this, Phillipa. We will send a message to the Queen immediately.”
“By the time she gets it, the Ball will be over.” Phillipa’s life would be over. No, this could not be happening.
“I’m afraid so,” the countess said. “Trust that Her Majesty will make this right.”
“She already has.” Mother hooked her arm in hers, pulling her away from the dancefloor, ignoring the astonished murmurs of the others in attendance.
She turned to see Wesley, who stood like a statue, wishing he would do something.
Anything.
But he had, and he’d been ignored. Interrupted. Dismissed.
Maybe she hadn’t fought hard enough for him.
“What about my things?” she cried. She didn’t care about the dresses, but couldn’t leave Ainslee behind without giving her an explanation. No one even knew she was here, except for the wolven. Perhaps she had a spell that could put a stop to this…
That spell you thought brought you back to Wesley mustn’t have worked after all if this is happening…
“You won’t need them, my dear. The sooner we forget about this unfortunate interlude, the better. Soon you’ll have a whole new life.”
That was exactly what she was afraid of.
Chapter Sixteen
Wesley
Wesley howled the moment the front door to Broadstone Hall clicked closed.
He didn’t care that everyone was staring at him. He turned to Master Bow.
“You said I could claim her. She would be mine.”
Master Bow’s mouth opened, but for once, he did not know the right thing to say. “Wolven, I was certain if you walked in here looking dapper and handsome, you would for sure convince her mother to let her stay. That she would accept your claim. But I was wrong, and I offer my deepest apologies. How I wish this turned out differently.”
“Phillipa is gone,” Wesley growled. “I have no way to get her back.”
“You will.” Countess Stalbridge put her hand on his shoulder. It did little to comfort him. “We’ll send a message to the Queen immediately. I sincerely believe Mrs. Willoughby’s claim is bogus. In all of the Monsters Balls I’ve held, the Queen has never changed her mind about an invite. Once we have confirmation that I am correct, Mrs. Willoughby will be punished severely for lying.”
“Annulment,” he grunted. “No longer my wife.”
The crowd was able to manage another shocked gasp. Only Master Bow and Countess Stalbridge were aware of how he knew Phillipa.
“If those papers are bogus, you have nothing to worry about,” the countess assured him.
He had everything to worry about. His wife was being taken from him, and there was no telling where Mrs. Willoughby would bring her. “Did you see The High Tea?”
“There have been a lot of those floating around since the Ball began, but yes, I generally see every issue.” Master Bow said. “There was one that predicted this very event.”
“Committed.” It was becoming increasingly more impossible for Wesley to stay gracious. Without Phillipa, all his reasons for humanity were gone. He would go full beast. There would be nothing royal about him, nothing worthy of any ball.
Master Bow swallowed. “Yes, I do recall it saying that.”
“Can’t. Let. That. Happen.” Wesley fell to all fours and charged toward the front door.
“Wolven. You can’t go after her.” Martin stepped in front of the door. “You could possibly be defying the Queen.”
“It’s true, wolven. There would be serious repercussions if this was indeed the Queen’s wish,” Master Bow called after him. “And we would much rather see Mrs. Willoughby find out what they are rather than you.”
“Need Phillipa,” he growled.
“We’ll get Phillipa back. You must be patient. This is an unprecedented event, and we’re as stunned as you are.” Master Bow had joined Martin in front of the door.
“If you are found guilty of acting treasonously, you could be thrown in jail. You could be disinvested of your family fortune, and depending on what happens, Phillipa could also be charged,” the countess added. “You would both be ruined, and there would be nothing we could do to help you. If you wait for the Queen, we can help you. We want to help you, wolven. That is why we brought you here.”
Their pleas made sense. Too much sense, and it was dangerous, because the longer he stayed here, listening to their logic, the further Phillipa was away from him.
They were relying on the Queen siding with him, and against Phillipa’s mother.
“What if Phillipa’s mother is right?” he asked. “That the Queen approved of all of this?”
Master Bow and the countess looked at each other. “Then you must let Phillipa go.”
He let out a howl that ratted the paintings on the wall, and the china on the tables.
“I cannot let her go.”
The countess nodded. “Very well, wolven. We’ve given you our best advice.”
Master Bow put his hand on the countess’ arm. “What happens if he finds her? Would they be able to come back to the Ball? We have received no official word from the Queen concerning Phillipa.”
“The Queen could consider inviting them back aiding and abetting a criminal,” Martin suggested. “I’d hate to see you cast out of our society. I think you could be such a good addition—”
Wesley didn’t need to hear another word. He didn’t care about society or rules, all he cared about was Phillipa. There was no way he could let her be brought to the Royal Hospital. Terrible things happened there. She didn’t belong in such a place.
He couldn’t let that happen to his wife. It didn’t matter what that piece of paper that Phillipa’s mother had waved around proclaimed. Had anyone even bothered to read it?
She. Was. His.
“Let me go,” he growled.
The countess and Master Bow looked at each other one more time, like they would dare deny him.
“He knows the consequences,” Martin said, and then turned to Wesley. “I wish you luck, wolven. Miss Willoughby is a fine woman, even if she did intend to kill you. Remember that. You have no idea what kind of weaponry she’ll have access to in that carriage.”