She stared at Morgan, her lips parted in utter shock. “How dare you.”
“He dares… quite a bit,” Caitlin said, finding her voice. “I would not annoy him.”
No insult quite fitting enough came to Miss Hockensmith. “I… I see that Mr. Munroe has been taken in by… by… I shall have to tell him—”
Morgan growled. Not a small growl from deep in the throat, but the kind he would use on a lesser wolf who came too near a challenge. Miss Hockensmith paled and took several hasty steps back, almost tripping on her ridiculously confining skirts. Without another word she spun around and hastened after the others.
Caitlin let out an explosive sigh. “That was not a good idea, Morgan.”
“They are all alike, Firefly. Do not trust them.”
“I don’t think you follow your own advice.”
“What?”
“I saw the way you looked at Athena Munroe.”
For the second time in a handful of minutes she astounded him. “And how was that?”
“The way I’ve never seen you look at a woman before.”
“You had better cut your hair, Firefly. It’s getting in your eyes.”
She shook her head. “You have a good poker face, Morgan, but you’re a terrible liar. What was it about her? Her pretty voice? Her fine manners?” Caitlin’s expression was uncommonly serious. “You have better taste than I thought. I liked her.”
“And you never liked outsiders,” he said harshly. “Until today.”
“Niall Munroe is a gentleman. This is his doing, after all. He didn’t have to be so generous.”
“What is it about him, Firefly? His fine suit? The fancy way he talks? Most females would consider him handsome.”
“The way his sister looked at you, she must think you’re pretty handsome yourself.”
The hair behind his ears bristled. “I am no gentleman.”
“And I am no lady. Still—” She shrugged. “My feelings have been wrong before. Maybe they are this time.”
He didn’t ask her what particular “feelings” she referred to. If she chose to moon after the cold-blooded Niall Munroe, it was her privilege—so long as she did not expect others to have such feelings. Him least of all.
Caitlin yawned with exaggerated indifference. “Well, I am off to bed. It will be dawn soon. You should rest too—even wolves need sleep.” She set off for her tent, and after a moment he headed for the one he shared with Ulysses.
The little man was lying on his cot, arms pillowing his head. He opened his eyes when Morgan walked in.
“Something is disturbing you,” he observed. “I noted it when we met the Munroes.”
“Everyone is interested in my feelings tonight,” Morgan growled.
Ulysses rose on his elbows. “It is only that you so seldom reveal your inner thoughts, and it is rare that I am able to observe them.”
“I should be honored that you find them entertaining.”
“Nothing of the sort.” Ulysses swung his short legs over the edge of the cot. “I am naturally concerned about the well-being of my fellow performers, especially when one of them has sacrificed much to remain among us.”
Morgan poured water from a pitcher and drank several glasses in succession. “There is nothing wrong with me. I have no interest in this Athena Munroe.”
“Ah.”
“Sometimes, Wakefield, your brains get in the way of your sense.”
“Perhaps. But your own objectivity is frequently in question, my friend.”
“When have you seen me with a woman?”
“Never. But you are not like other men—except, I venture, in one essential manner. Neither man nor wolf is without certain instincts for the preservation of his kind.”
“Including you?”
“It would be most inadvisable for me to father children,” Ulysses said gravely. “But you have a gift worth preserving.”
“I have met Miss Munroe once, and already you and Caitlin have decided that I want her.” He laughed. “As if she would have me, crippled though she is. I am not human. Worry about Caitlin, not me.”
Ulysses was silent for a time. “I feel that it is incumbent upon me to warn you that you talk in your sleep.”
Morgan turned sharply to face him. “What?”
“You have spoken of things… deeply painful. I know you would not wish to share them with outsiders, but I am your friend, Morgan. I will listen, should you—”