“She has done nothing,” Morgan said in a rasping voice, answering his question. “If you do not leave her alone, I will—”
“Now isn’t it just like men to grunt and squabble like pigs over slops.”
The voice was a little breathless, but Niall would have recognized it in a shout or a whisper. He spun toward the door. Caitlin stood at the entrance, with Harry French supporting her on one side and Ulysses Wakefield on the other. Lines of strain framed her eyes, but she was perfectly capable of impaling Niall with a look of utter scorn.
“The gallant white knight, charging up to save a lady’s honor,” she said, looking past him at Morgan without batting an eyelash at his grotesque appearance. “You’re no better, Morgan Holt.” Her eyes lit with pleasure as they found Athena. “And you. Look at you!”
“Caitlin!” Athena exclaimed. “You should not be out of bed. I… I am quite well. Everything is all right.”
Everything was clearly not all right, but Niall knew the most dangerous moment had passed. “This is none of your business,” he said, addressing French. “Get out.”
Athena pulled halfway from Morgan’s grip. “Harry, take her back—”
“And miss all the fun?” Caitlin leaned forward, almost dragging the two men with her. “I think this should become one of our regular acts, don’t you, Harry?”
The old man glanced in an agony of worry from one face to another. “Oh, dear. I did not know… I did not realize that Mr. Munroe had arrived until we heard the shouting, and Caitlin insisted—”
“It was very kind of you to come visit us,” Caitlin said to Niall, smiling sweetly. “I am sorry you are so put out, Mr. Munroe, but if you insist on entering private rooms unannounced, you are bound to see things you don’t like.”
Niall opened his mouth to answer and was held mute by the sparkle in Caitlin’s blue eyes. Dammit, how could he be thinking of her eyes at a time like this? She had always approved of Athena’s attraction to Holt. Good God, she had probably urged Athena to abandon her principles and humanity for a night of passion in this monster’s arms.
“You… you defend my sister giving herself to this…” He waved toward Morgan, sick in his gut. “You knew what he was, you and your circus freaks. And you let Athena get near him—”
“I think you’ll find she has a mind of her own. Athena has known what he is since he saved her life from a runaway horse in the big top.” Caitlin cocked her head. “You didn’t want her near Morgan because of his act. But you couldn’t have known it wasn’t an act at all. You don’t look like a man who’s shocked by something he’s never seen before.”
“He isn’t,” Athena said quietly. She stepped away from Morgan’s support and stood free on unsteady legs. “He isn’t shocked because Morgan and I share the same nature. My mother… she was a werewolf, too.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened. “Of course. It explains so much—why you reacted so calmly when you saw Morgan change, and why you have been drawn to each other.” She looked at Niall. “But that means that you must also be—”
“I am not,” he snapped. “My mother was a normal woman. She was Walter Munroe’s wife.”
“Ah. I see.” Caitlin’s stare was so bleak that Niall had difficulty in meeting it. “Athena’s mother was his mistress, then.”
Her frankness should not have surprised him at this late date. “It doesn’t matter. She is my sister, and I promised to protect her from harm.”
“And a fine job you make of it.”
Seldom had Niall felt such anger. It was as if his skull were an overheated boiler, blackening his vision with scalding steam. When he looked at Caitlin, he dared not loose his rage. But Athena, and Morgan, were another matter entirely.
“I thought she needed protecting,” he said, turning on his sister. “Look at her! She has been deceiving everyone, pretending helplessness to win sympathy and support for her charities… and for herself.” He ignored Athena’s horrified protest. “Did you think you could make me dance to your tune by playing the cripple, Athena? Has that been your game all along, just like… just like pretending you aren’t exactly the same as your mother?”