Home > WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2)(63)

WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2)(63)
Author: Kathryn Le Veque

“I am glad you think so,” Blayth said, but his manner softened. He really wasn’t trying to be cruel. “Tor, we know you thought you were doing what Jane wanted by taking care of her sisters, but you were so young at the time. We know you did what you thought was best, but there is an old saying – nati sut mala. Do you know what that means?”

“Evil born?”

Blayth nodded. “It means that some people are just born wicked,” he said. “Mayhap Barbara and Lenore were just born that way and there was nothing you could have done about it even had you known. Jane was a good and true wife, but sometimes that does not always carry over to the rest of the siblings. It is not something you should blame yourself for, but ignoring it was your fault. I am proud of you for finally facing the reality of those two and doing as you must. Do not feel guilty for it.”

Tor smiled weakly. “I am trying not to,” he said. “But I know that Jane would have been appalled at what they have done. She did not have an evil bone in her body.”

Blayth had never met Jane, but he knew Tor was a man of character. He surrounded himself with people of character, the exception being Barbara and Lenore. Out of guilt, they had been his blind spot.

But the blind man could now see.

“I am sure she was a fine woman,” Blayth said. “That was never in dispute. As for her sisters, would you like me to send a missive to Armathwaite and relay the situation? We can send Barbara and Lenore to the nunnery as soon as you wish.”

Tor thought on that a moment. “Nay,” he said. “No missive. I will personally escort Barbara and Lenore to the nunnery and explain the situation myself to the nuns. I shall also leave a sizable donation for their care. This is something I must see to myself. They are my problem, after all.”

Blayth understood. “You should do it sooner rather than later.”

Tor nodded. “I will. Tomorrow, if I can.”

Blayth smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder and calling to his daughter to attend him so the betrothed couple could be alone. Isabella went, but slowly, until Blayth grasped her by the hand and dragged her out of the chamber. Fraser, who had been lingering by the door, followed close behind. When he shut the door quietly behind him, Tor turned to Isalyn.

“I am sure you heard all of that,” he said quietly.

Isalyn was in the process of draping the gossamer scarf over her shoulders, admiring the glistening material. “I did,” she said. “But it was not my place to interrupt you or give my opinion. May I do that now?”

“Of course.”

“Your uncle’s suggestion is an excellent one,” she said. “Barbara and Lenore will be well tended at the nunnery. They will have a life of purpose and discipline. You said yourself that they did not wish to marry, and they cannot remain here, so the nunnery is a logical solution. I do not mean to sound callous, but let Armathwaite have the harpies.”

Tor gave her a half-grin at the name she used for the pair, true as it was. “I suppose I should have done it long ago,” he said. “This entire situation has me ashamed.”

Isalyn shook her head. “You should not be,” she said. “No matter how hard you try, you cannot control the thoughts and actions of others. Barbara and Lenore have made their own choices.”

“True,” he said. “But I feel as if I should make amends to the young women they injured. Poor Heather d’Umfraville lost three front teeth because of them.”

Isalyn winced, putting her hand to her mouth at the ghastly thought. “Poor woman,” she said. “But everyone believed it was an accident, correct?”

“They did.”

“Then mayhap you should simply let things lie. What good will it do to let her know it was deliberate? It will only hurt her more.”

He sighed. “I suppose that is true,” he said. “I saw her a year after the accident and her father had taken her to a surgeon in London who had made an appliance for her with the teeth of corpses. She could put it in her mouth and it looked as if she had never lost those front teeth, so thank God the damage was somewhat repairable.”

“What a remarkable thing,” Isalyn agreed. “Since she has been restored, I would just let her continue to think the incident was an unfortunate accident. But you are very sweet to want to make amends.”

Tor smiled at her and, as if suddenly realizing they were alone, reached out and pulled her into his embrace. It was the first time he’d ever done that, freely and without reserve, and Isalyn wrapped her arms around his neck. He was so tall that he had to bend over in order to hold her and she clung to him tightly.

For a moment, they simply held one another, feeling warmth against warmth.

It was a magical moment.

“I want to take care of Lenore and Barbara before we wed,” he said huskily, his face in the side of her head. “I hope you do not mind, but I do not want them hanging over our heads or interfering with our marriage in any way. Let me take them to Armathwaite first so that we may only focus on our life together. That is all I want to think about.”

Isalyn’s fingers were in his hair. “I understand and I agree,” she said. “Do you really intend to take them to the nunnery tomorrow?”

“I would do it tonight, but I suppose it is the compassionate thing to give them time to choose which possessions they wish to take,” he said. “But truthfully, I have lost my perspective with this. What do you suggest?”

She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “You are worrying too much,” she said softly. “It seems to me that you went through years of inactivity where they were concerned and now, you are concerned that you are not reacting swiftly enough. Taking them in the next day or two is fine.”

He smiled faintly, leaning forward to kiss her soft mouth. “Thank you,” he murmured. “When they are safely away and all is well again, we shall go to Castle Questing so you can meet my father.”

She chuckled. “Then you must retrieve my father from Carlisle first. He will not forgive you if you visit Warenton without him.”

“Why did he stay in Carlisle, anyway?”

She shrugged. “Something about his majordomo stealing from him,” she said. “The last time I visited, years ago, he said the same thing, so I think it is something he accuses the man of on a regular basis.”

“But still, the majordomo remains.”

She nodded, giggling. “He does.”

Tor pulled her close once again, feeling her body molding against his. He could feel her breasts against him, her belly. She was round and pleasing, and he could feel himself becoming aroused. It had been years since he’d last had a woman, and being a man in his prime, had all of the normal needs of a man.

Especially where Isalyn was concerned.

She made him feel like his entire body was awakening from a long and dark slumber.

“Let us not speak of your father or of the harpies any longer,” he muttered, burying his face in the side of her head again. “Let us only speak of us.”

Isalyn gave in to his overwhelming heat, his power. She closed her eyes, savoring his embrace.

“What do you wish to speak of?” she whispered.

He sighed with great contentment before picking her up and carrying her, her body trailing down his, over to the bed so he could sit down. He sat, putting her on his lap.

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