Page 34 of Lady Petra and the Wolf

Wolf paused and thought back to The Murders in the Rue Morgue. Glancing at Petra, they shared a brief smile before he took in the room as he had not before. There were two small windows on his right that spilled until what looked like an alleyway, though it was dark so he could not make out much of what was outside. It had been twilight when he was attacked and he believed he had not been unconscious for very long, so he realized he could not be far from Drury Lane. While the room had a sterile smell from acting as an infirmary, he detected a scent of greasepaint and chalk underneath that was incredibly familiar. In fact, he remembered it from earlier that day.

“An old theatre.”

Petra bobbed her head. “Well done, my lord.”

“And,” he went on, “your father has underestimated you all of your life, so such a thing is beyond his realm of imagination.”

“Very well done.” Petra smiled again, but only for a moment. “However, he does have his resources. He may have accounts of me in this area, so perhaps my days here are numbered. I cannot stay if my presence threatens this sanctuary.”

Wolf breathed out through his nose, unable to form words for a moment. He had known he was not fit to kiss the hem of her garment before but that feeling now returned tenfold. Here she was thinking of the welfare of the others, not herself.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, Lady Petra,” he began. “That you have only told me so much because I do not know the exact location of where we are and because you found me in…such a state.” He paused. While he had been embarrassed beyond reason by his circumstances earlier, he was glad that his experiment had brought him to her. While her feelings had likely not changed toward him, the modicum of trust she offered was far more than he deserved. “But I swear on my honor, I will not betray you. And…” He paused again, unsure of how to phrase his offer. “You will always have a safe place at Wolfridge House. I know it would be improper for you to stay on your own, but my aunt and uncle will be visiting shortly, and my aunt would be a proper chaperone, if such a need should arise.” He was rambling now as she stared at him, a small V forming between her brows.

“Your aunt and uncle? The ones from Bristol?”

Wolf nodded, trying to remember how much he had told her.

“They raised you, yes?”

Wolf nodded again, unsure of where she was going with this line of thought.

Appearing to notice his reticence, Petra went on, “I only ask because you seemed hesitant to speak of them before. You know I do not care that they are in trade, that does not make them less than you or I. Nor do I care what side of the blanket your uncle was born on. If they are decent people, they are decent people.”

Wolf had assumed that might be her position, but hearing her say such a thing warmed the caverns of his chest and allowed him to be more honest than he would have been before.

“They are the very best of people.” And for years I turned my back on them, just as I turned my back on you, he almost added.

Petra paused, as if hearing his unspoken words in the offing, then realizing they were not coming, she said. “Then I should be happy to meet them, should the need arise.” Petra bit her lip and Wolf worked to rearrange the linen he had wrapped around himself so she could not see how much that action excited him. “I need to ask a favor of you, my lord.” For once, the my lord did not contain distance, but was almost spoken as a term of endearment. Almost. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you may need to recover. I appreciate that you were violently attacked while conducting your, er, experiment. However, I suppose you might wish to keep the circumstances of your attack private, and I promise you, I will do that. If necessary, there is a doctor who can discreetly come by to check your injuries.”

Wolf nodded as he agreed with her statements.

“As I said, you are welcome to recover here. However…” Petra brushed a speck of dust from her shoulder, forging ahead despite the unpleasantness of the topic. “I would ask that you remain in this room. Many of the women who seek out this sanctuary are afraid of men, and many certainly do not trust peers of the realm. This is not a personal affront to you,” she added quickly. “But my wish for you to recover in peace cannot override my obligation to the welfare of those who come here for sanctuary.” At that, Petra looked beseechingly at him, as if willing him to understand.

“Of course.” He cleared his throat as some of the worry dissipated in her eyes. “Of course, I understand. I will be gone by morning.”

While he had not earned the right to beg her forgiveness, he could give her this.

He would give her anything.

* * *

Petra let out the breath she had not realized she had been holding tight to her chest at his words.

As she released that breath, the role she had stepped into of helpful proprietor gave way to woman. The tension leaving her frame, she was suddenly keenly aware of Lord Wolfridge’s lean form, which he attempted to cover with a sheet of linen. He was not overly brawny, but his body was corded with tight muscles, like statues of the gods she glimpsed in museums. She aimed her gaze toward the ceiling, attempting not to dwell on the firm swell of his backside that she had needed to acquaint herself with due to his attack.

What a ridiculous, yet oddly endearing man. While spending one day as a woman could not truly make one understand every day as a woman, what other man would humble himself in such a way, putting himself in harm’s way? Petra clucked as she rose to find more linens.

“I should also like to look at your shoulder blade. The cut is not deep, but it will need to be cleaned.” She glanced up at his bare chest again, and sucked in a quick breath as something fizzed within her, like a firework ready to burst.

“Perhaps after I clean your shoulder I can bring you some clothing from the old costumes. I’m sure something will fit you.” She thanked the heavens Lord Wolfridge was not a giant like her cousin Stephen and that she would hopefully find something suitable. She could not continue to interact with him with all of that bare skin on display…

She cleared her throat, praying that her cheeks did not heat. She had been able to detach herself from the awkwardness of the earlier situation because she did not have to look him in the eye, perhaps that would help again.

“If you could sit at the edge of the…” She gestured, not quite sure how to finish so she changed the subject. “You…wanted to know what it was like to be a woman?”

Still covering himself, he rose and slid one hip against the table, keeping his weight off of his fresh stitches. “And look where that got me,” he grumbled, but there was a certain sweetness in his expression that belied his grumbling.

“One day would not tell you about a whole lifetime.” As she gathered the necessary materials, she turned to hide her expression. A new lightness pierced her chest, as though a heavy, locked door had budged after a battering ram had been applied. The door wasn’t open or even unlocked, and yet she felt as though the hinges had shifted substantially.