The Wolfe's Mate. Paula Marshall

voice, eminently suited to his harsh features. Susanna’s first impulse was to inform him immediately that he was much mistaken: she was not Miss Western, his hired villains having carried off the wrong woman.

      She wondered briefly why Amelia was the right woman. For what purpose would she have been brought here? She made an instant and daring decision: she would not tell him straight away that she was not Amelia, and then only after she had discovered what his wicked game was. It would be a pleasure to wrongfoot him.

      Aloud she said, ‘No, I will not be seated. And I do so hope, Mr Ben Wolfe—you are Mr Ben Wolfe, are you not?—that you have a satisfactory explanation for my forced presence here.’

      He smiled at her, displaying strong white teeth—all the better to eat you with, my dear, being Susanna’s inward response to that for was he not behaving exactly like the wolf whose name he bore in the fairy tale Red Riding Hood?

      Mr Ben Wolfe, on the other hand, evidently thought that he was the good fairy in Cinderella, murmuring in a kind voice, ‘Do not be frightened. Miss Western. My intentions towards you are strictly honourable, I do assure you. As for my reasons for bringing you here thus abruptly, you will forgive me if I leave any necessary explanation for them until later.’

      ‘No, indeed, I do not forgive you at all. I don’t believe in your so-called honourable intentions; I have no notion of whether you intend to wed me or bed me. Or neither. I do so hope it’s neither. I should like very much to return home untouched—and as soon as possible.’

      His smile this time was rueful. ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Miss Western. You see, I wish to marry you, to make you the wife of one of the richest men in England instead of one of the poorest. I’m sure, on mature and rational consideration, you—and your family—would prefer that.’

      Susanna stared at all six foot one of masculine bravura, superbly turned out from the top of his glossy black head to the tips of his glossy black boots.

      ‘Then, in the name of wonder, Mr Benjamin Wolfe, why did you not approach my parents in proper form and make an honourable offer in an honourable fashion instead of having me carried off, hugger-mugger, like a parcel from the post office?’

      She was beginning to enjoy herself, hugging gleefully to her bosom the knowledge that he was not talking to his proposed forced bride at all but to her unconsidered and poverty-stricken governess. He evidently believed her to be Amelia and had no suspicion that he was mistaken. The longer she continued to deceive him, the more her pleasure grew.

      On the other hand, by the looks of him he had a fine and wilful temper, which offered her the problem of how he would react when she finally enlightened him as to her true identity. But that could wait. Susanna had endured her disastrous fall into penury by living only for the moment and ignoring the future. What will come, would come, being her motto.

      Mr Ben Wolfe bowed to her again. ‘My dear girl, I have already informed you that I have my reasons and will reveal them to you on a suitable occasion. That occasion is not now. Now is the time for us to come to know one another better. To that end, pray pour us some tea before it grows cold. We shall both feel better for it.’

      ‘There are only two things wrong with your last remark, Mr Ben Wolfe,’ returned Susanna, all sweetness and light. ‘The first is that I have no wish to know you any better—quite the contrary. The second is that I have no wish either to pour you tea, or drink it myself—I should certainly not feel any better for it. A fast post-chaise and an immediate return to London are the only requests I have to make of you.’

      They were standing at some distance apart, for Mr Ben Wolfe had entered with no immediate desire to frighten his captive. On the other hand, he had expected to meet a young girl whom he could easily control by the gentlest of means. Instead, he was confronted with a talkative, self-possessed creature, older than her eighteen years in her command of language, who was evidently going to take a deal of coaxing before she agreed to become Mrs. Ben Wolfe without making overmuch fuss.

      He decided to continue being agreeable and charming, praying that his patience would not run out. ‘I regret,’ he told her, bowing, ‘that is one of the few requests which you might make of me which I must refuse. My plans for you involve you remaining here for the time being. Later, perhaps.’

      ‘Later will not do at all!’ said Susanna, who wished most heartily that he would stop bowing at her. Most unsuitable when all he did was contradict her. ‘I have my reputation to consider.’

      Mr Ben Wolfe suddenly overwhelmed her with what she could only consider was the most inappropriate gallantry, all things considered. ‘No need to trouble yourself about that. I shall take the greatest care of you.’

      ‘Indeed? I am pleased to hear it—but I am a little at a loss to grasp the finer details of that statement. I ask you again do you intend to wed me—or to bed me?’

      This unbecoming frankness from a single female of gentle nurture almost overset Ben Wolfe. Nothing had prepared him for it. Might it not, he momentarily considered, have been more useful for him to have been equally as frank with her from the beginning of this interview?

      No matter. He smiled, and if the smile was a trifle strained, which it was, then damn him, thought Susanna uncharitably, it is all he deserves.

      ‘Oh, my intentions are quite honourable. I mean to marry you and to that end I have already procured a special licence from the Archbishop of Canterbury himself.’

      Marriage! He proposed to marry her—or rather Amelia. In the cat-and-mouse game she was playing with him Susanna had almost forgotten that she was not the target of Mr Ben Wolfe’s plans. For a moment she considered enlightening him immediately, but he deserved to live in his fool’s paradise a little longer, for was there not an interesting reply which she could make to his last confident declaration?

      ‘You do surprise me, sir. First of all, you seem to forget that you have not yet asked me whether I wish to marry you and, all things considered, I’m sure that I don’t; secondly, aren’t you forgetting that I am already betrothed to George Darlington?’

      ‘No, indeed—for that is precisely why you are here.’

      His eyes gleamed as he came out with this, and the look he gave her was so predatory that Susanna shuddered. She was playing with a tiger. A tiger who had intended to kidnap an innocent young girl and force her to marry him in order, apparently, to prevent her from marrying George, Viscount Darlington.

      Now Susanna did not like George Darlington and, by the look on his face when he had uttered his name, neither, for some reason, did Ben Wolfe, but she didn’t think that he deserved to be treated quite so scurvily as to lose his proposed bride, and when she had finally confessed who she truly was she would so inform her captor.

      If he was prepared to let her get a word in edgeways, that was—for she was beginning to understand that Mr Ben Wolfe in a thwarted rage might be a very formidable creature, indeed.

      Unconsciously they had moved closer and closer together so that, when Susanna echoed him again by murmuring ‘By saying “Precisely why you are here”, you mean—I take it—that you have kidnapped me in order to thwart George Darlington by depriving him of his bride—and her money,’ he bent down to take her hand, saying,

      ‘Yes—and you are a clever child to have worked that out so quickly. I think that I may be gaining a real prize in marrying you, Miss Western.’

      Susanna smiled up into his inclined face. ‘Oh, I think not, Mr Ben Wolfe. All of this would be very fine if I were Amelia Western but, seeing that I am not, you have given yourself a great deal of trouble for exactly nothing.

      ‘Your hirelings have only succeeded in kidnapping not Miss Western, but her poverty-stricken nothing of a governess, Susanna Beverly, who possesses no fortune and no reputation, either. By carrying me off by mistake you have destroyed the last remnants of that for good—and gained only frustration for yourself.’

      His response to this bold and truthful declaration was to smile down at her and say gently, ‘Well tried,