Page 9 of Wolf's Bane
A Street
Solenne turnedat the deep voice, familiar with its owner. “Good morning, Colonel Chambers.”
“Always a delight.” Colonel Chambers stood with a younger man with a thin, pinched face. The young man gave her a bored once-over. “Permit me to present my nephew, Mr. Parkell. How is your father?”
Chambers leaned on his cane, and a gloved hand touched the tip of his hat. A leg injury forced him out of the military and into the occupation of the gentleman farmer. He was pleasant enough, Solenne thought, if a bit pompous. He had renamed his house Vervain, after all. Vervain, as in the legendary sword, said to slay werewolf and vampires in a single blow.
Honestly.
Chambers seemed to hold her in high regard, though Solenne could not imagine why. She had only ever been civil to the man and made pains to avoid him.
Godwin, however, placed several not-so-subtle remarks that Colonel Chambers was not so much older than her—only fifteen years!—and she could do far worse for a match. He had enough money to revitalize the Marechal’s fortunes and understood their responsibility, even supported their mission.
The family needed a lifeline. She wasn’t sure if this was the correct one.
“Healing slower than he would like,” she said. Over the last few weeks, it became apparent that Godwin would lose sight in his eye. He could be handling it better, but Solenne thought her father was allowed to be a grumpy bastard, considering the circumstances.
“Any news of the creature that attacked him?” His gloved hand gripped the silver handle of his cane, the leather creaking.
“Luis tracked the creature, but the rain has slowed down the search,” she said. Rain obscured any trail the creature made with freshly churned mud. Thus far, Luis had not discovered the creature’s den, if it had a den. If not, the creature transformed into its human form and now hid among the crowd. It could be anyone.
“It was injured,” she added.
“With silver?” He grimaced as he said the word.
“Yes, so that should slow down its regeneration.” The silver shot from Luis’ pistol, to be precise. If the wolf hid among the flock, so to speak, they would be wounded. She had no one way of knowing how an injury in wolf form translated into a human form, but new and unexplained injuries were something to consider.
The clock tower struck noon.
“I’m afraid I have an appointment to keep,” Colonel Chambers said.
“Miss Wodehouse is expecting me.” She gave a quick dip of her head and turned away to make her escape.
“How delightful. That is our destination as well.”
Disappointed at her failure to escape Chambers’ attention, Solenne kept a pleasant smile on her face. “Oh, splendid of Miss Wodehouse to plan a little soirée.”
There. She was positively rude to imply that Chambers was imposing himself on a private affair.
His grin did not waver. “Just so. Shall we?” He held out an arm, and she found herself unable to refuse.
The Wodehouse home was a tall stone house off the main street. A footman led them to the back garden, where Charlotte sat reading. A halo of sunshine and vivid spring greenery surrounded her, complementing her pink dress and bronze complexion. Her curling hair had been pulled back into a loose bun. Sunlight picked out warm russet highlights in her brown hair. She made an extraordinarily pretty picture, Solenne thought, even if fashion said that her plump frame and spectacles were unbecoming.
“Interesting book?” Solenne asked.
“Oh, it’s horribly dry. A ship’s manifest, believe it or not, for Papa’s research. Hello.” Charlotte closed the book and smiled at her visitors. Mr. Wodehouse once taught at the university in Founding, but his health made it necessary to leave the city for the country. He had an impressive library, but half the volumes were histories and terribly dull, in Solenne’s opinion.
Charlotte disagreed, being an avid historian herself. She always had her nose in a book, researching some obscure fact. Solenne’s taste in literature veered more toward popular fiction or books on botany. Reading histories reminded her too much of the school reading assignments: something to be endured and then promptly forgotten.
Colonel Chambers made the introductions while the table was prepared on the veranda. “I was hoping to speak to Mr. Wodehouse today. There’s a book I’d like him to track down.”
“Papa is in Founding on business. He’ll be home tomorrow,” Charlotte answered. Her eyes sparkled behind the spectacles, because there was nothing she enjoyed better than books, or perhaps it was the sunshine.
Honestly, it surprised Solenne that they were such fast friends. As children, Solenne had Alek as a companion, and every moment spent in the village school was a trial to be endured. Charlotte had been the model student, always with her nose in a book and never interested in exploring anything exciting.
That changed at university, when two young women who were barely acquaintances were thrown into the same dormitory and several of the same classes. Late nights and early morning classes forged their friendship.
Charlotte turned her attention to Mr. Parkell. “Are you in Boxon long?”
