“You are as fine a brother as any lady could wish. But Athena has no mother, no older sister to guide her. And though everyone in Denver society loves and admires your sister, Mr. Munroe, her very goodness may leave her defenseless against those who would take advantage of her. The uneducated and destitute, of any sort, are notorious for just such behavior.”
He stared at the poster. “You once suggested that I send Athena away—to New York, perhaps. I did not see any benefit in it before. But we do have a second cousin there, in good society, who might provide companionship for her.”
“And I know many in New York who would love her as much as we do.” She clasped her hands eloquently. “It is only here that she is… bound by her past. She feels such a need to prove herself, and I see no evidence that she intends to moderate her activities.”
“I have spoken to her on that subject.”
“But has she listened? Some time away, in the company of well-bred and older advisers, would allow her to find a new perspective and realize how much more there is in the world to enjoy.”
Niall subjected her to the same intense, piercing gaze that he had given the poster. “I am not yet convinced that she would be better off away from the only family she has. You do not know her as well as I, Miss Hockensmith.”
Quickly she changed strategies and smiled gently. “Naturally not. You understand better than anyone how to care for Athena.”
Her retreat softened his stance. “Nevertheless, you have valid points, Miss Hockensmith. I will consider them. As for the circus… there is no business here that cannot wait.” He removed the weights and let the poster curl up. “I will see Athena at once. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”
Her heart leaped. “Of course.”
He smiled, a more genuine expression this time. “You are a lady of great generosity yourself, Miss Hockensmith. As generous as your father is astute. I believe he and I shall soon be sealing our partnership.”
Elated, Cecily showed him only humble satisfaction. “That is wonderful news, Mr. Munroe.”
“Athena and I will hope to see you and your father at dinner in the coming week,” he said. “But for the moment—” He stepped around the desk, took his hat from the mahogany stand, and offered his arm to Cecily. “Shall we go, Miss Hockensmith?”
She took his elbow and walked with him to the door.
Let those overweening young ladies at the Windsor observe her now, and reconsider her worth. They had much to learn. Niall Munroe might be particularly unschooled where women were concerned, but he was still a man. And she was very much a woman.
Woman enough to rule all of Denver society.
“I am a werewolf.” Morgan had never been one to question his senses. He had relied on their accuracy all his life, and he was not prepared to doubt them now. He had not misunderstood Athena Munroe’s startling announcement.
Her gaze held his, steady and sane, though she shivered under the blanket and was not so well as she claimed. He would swear that she wasn’t crazy. She’d have no cause to make up such a story, when most people would run screaming in terror after what she had witnessed.
But he would have known. Surely he would have known. Yet he had returned to the lot because of her, and just in time to save her from serious injury, if not death. Now they were connected more surely than by any tenuous sympathy. Now it was so much worse.
Fool.
“Have you… nothing to say?” she asked, a catch in her voice. “Perhaps you need proof of some kind. Unfortunately, I do not know how to give it.”
She looked so small, so fragile without the armor of her chair, her legs like a rag doll’s beneath her skirts. She had been a feather in his arms—no, not a feather, for a feather had no substance. She was altogether real, and warm, and female.
A female of his blood. He did not want it to be true. Oh, no. He wanted to prove her a liar.