The words more than the offer coaxed me to turn and face him. “Have you tried to call on me?”
“I left my card with your father, several times.” His stare bored into mine. “He told me you weren’t accepting visitors.”
“Only because he refuses to let them in.” I huffed. “I’m in trouble.” Again. “I have most of a week’s penance left before I’m allowed out of my room.” I bit my lip. “Officially.”
A coldness seeped into Saint’s features, bringing out the darkness in him. “He locked you in.”
“No.” I didn’t trust the calculations running behind his eyes. “I mean, yes, but it’s not as if I can’t amuse myself with books or painting or embroidery.” Goddess, I hated embroidery the most. “I’m fed and kept watered, Saint. I’m not a prisoner. I’m just an unruly daughter who has trouble staying out of trouble.”
Before his temper got the best of him, he must have decided I was telling him the truth and let it go.
“Howl suits you.” A smile ticked in his cheek. “You’re wild.” He admired me. “Untamed.”
“And you, my Saint, are the worst sort of temptation for a rogue such as myself.”
His eyes flared when I dared to call him mine, and even Meg whined for caution.
“Don’t call me yours unless you’re willing to be mine,” he warned, “and neither of us wants that.”
“How can you know?” I cocked my head at him. “From minute to minute, I barely do.”
Some might call me fickle, but I suspected it was boredom dulling the shine of each new hobby, draining the joy from the simple things I once enjoyed, exhausting me before each day had begun. I had so little control over my life that I spent most of it acting contrary to exert my will when, in truth, I had no say. About anything.
Well, I wanted a say. I wanted a thing that belonged to me and me alone. I wanted excitement. A thrill.
And since he was leaving, I decided on the spot that Saint could be those things for me.
“The moon is full, as you so eloquently wrote, and I’m in a mood to run.”
“Run?” His gaze flicked to Meg, who trotted over to us. “You actually…?”
“Come on.” I slid my hand into his and tugged. “We’ll be called out if we stay here much longer.”
A servant girl tugging a boy dressed better than the local gentry into the dark guaranteed to spark gossip. I could ill afford to be mistaken as a lady of the night if I ever wanted to see the light of day again.
A yip from Meg signaled she was taking the lead, and we followed close. Nose in the air, head angled to one side, she located her pack and lunged in the direction guaranteed to reach them quickest.
“Your legs are miles long.” I yanked on Saint again. “Keep up, or word your future letters with more care.”
“Future letters?”
“You promised me one more week.” Laughter spilled out of me, the night freeing the tightness that coiled in my chest as the hours ticked past in my room. “How could you not want to see me again after this?”
Saint’s answer was a smile. Not a large one. But a true one.
The soft edge of it sent a pang through my chest, knowing our time was short.
With Meg as our guide, we reached the Passel family farm and disappeared into the wheat stalks.
A cold nose brushed the back of my hand, then sharp teeth nipped my skirt. A chubby wolf as black as pitch hit me in the knees and bowled me over while Saint grasped for me and caught air.
For a three-year-old, Elliot had a lot of heft.
“Get back, you beast.” I laughed as I pushed myself into a sitting position. “Don’t kiss me.” I spluttered as he licked my face. “Who knows where your mouth has been?”
Light on her paws, Meg trotted over and lifted her little cousin off me with her teeth in his ruff.
Elliot squirmed and whined, drawing the attention of other wolves.