The Wolfe Wager Read Online Free PDF

heir to the title of Lord Wulfric, had defied their father’s edict and had purchased a commission as an infantry captain. Sent to fight the French, his bravery had brought honor to their family in the tradition of their ancestors who had come from Normandy with William the Conqueror. Then, after a fierce battle during which many of his comrades had been killed, he had vanished. Their bodies had been recovered. His had not.
    There was nothing to give her hope yet nothing to let her mourn. She had been offered only empty condolences by an indifferent government.
    She was certain Corey must not be dead. He was alive. Somewhere he was alive, perhaps in hiding, perhaps as a prisoner of that horrible Corsican. No one else shared her optimism. Aunt Carolyn refused to listen to her, telling Vanessa that her wish to see her brother would fade with time. Vanessa would come to see the truth when she allowed herself to grieve for Corey. Time and the delight of men vying for her hand during the Season would take her mind from imagining her brother might come home.
    The government had proven even less sympathetic. The Prince Regent’s ministers had turned as deaf an ear to her entreaties for their assistance in discovering Corey’s location. One pompous secretary in the Prime Minister’s office had told her coldly that the government would soon be destitute if every relative of every man lost in the war demanded an individual accounting and the return of the corpse. There had been not the least bit of compassion in his voice when he added that some of the dead would never be identified, for there was little left to identify in the wake of cannon fire. She would not give up her dream of seeing him home and safe.
    Standing, she said, “I think I’ll retire now, Leale.”
    “Then you don’t wish—”
    “I’ll blow out the candle myself. Good night.”
    Although her abigail’s face held a bewildered expression, Leale left the room. Vanessa waited until the door clicked closed, then slipped to her writing table. Checking that the drapes at the two windows were pulled tight, she lit the small lamp atop the table. She opened a drawer. From it, she took a rosewood box and set it on the desk. Her hands clasped the box, pulling it close to her breast. She sighed and leaned forward until her head rested on the carved lid.
    She lifted a chain that hung around her neck. At the end of the glittering gold was a tiny key of a tarnished brass. She slipped it into the box and opened the lid. Taking out the topmost page, she put it on the desk. There was no need to read it, for she had memorized every word of Corey’s last missive. His brash courage and his determination to best Napoleon’s forces shone from every dim word, but the date at the top reminded her how long it had been since he had penned this note.
    Putting it back in the box, she lifted out a piece of clean paper. She opened the ink and bent to her task. She was not sure how long it would take to find her brother, but she would not stop until she had written to everyone who might help her. The vow she had sworn as she stood on the family crest set into stone in the chapel of Wolfe Abbey was sacred. Only when Corey was home in England and had assumed the title of Lord Wulfric would she think of her own life and the future Aunt Carolyn was firm she should have.

Chapter Three
    Vanessa would have rather been anywhere else this evening, but she was at Almack’s. To her, the Assembly Room epitomized the Season, for here the ton thronged to file before one another in gowns that where à la modality and in dark coats with the white breeches the patronesses deemed de rigueur . The room was filled with the prattle that served in lieu of the stimulating conversation she had shared with her father and brother at Wolfe Abbey.
    But, worst of all, it was the place where she had to suffer the eager glances of the ardent men who wished to marry her for her father’s fortune. Her few attempts to