Page 84 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

She gives Bishop a crafty look. “Do you want more information?”

He sighs. “Yes, you can come along. But if you think the fact they have wh—women will keep them from bothering you, I would not count on it.”

“I can take care of—”

“Annie?” Rufus has been striding over from the left, intent on reaching us. Now he stops short.

He stares. “Annie? My gods, look at you!”

Rufus then does something that I would never advise anyone to do unless they wanted to discover how well Ann can fight. He swings her clear off her feet in a bear hug.

“Please put me down,” she says without inflection.

He does so, but then grins at her. “You don’t recognize me? It’s—”

“Yes, Rufus, I recognize you, which is why I didn’t kick you where you would least like to be kicked.”

His grin only grows. “That’s my Annie. Look at you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, and she sighs but suffers both the familiar touch and the inspection.

“How old were you when I left?” he says. “Nine? Ten?”

“Nine.”

“That’s right. You’d just turned nine, and we had a party for you. Your grandfather got you a horse because you’d outgrown your pony.”

Ann tenses, just a little, but Rufus continues, oblivious. He withdrew from the Albion Pack while my grandfather was still alive, meaning Ann was living abovestairs, still the Alpha’s cherished granddaughter.

“I heard you and your mother left the Pack when Silas ascended,” Rufus says. “You returned later, I take it?”

Bishop clears his throat. “Did you manage to hail us a cab?”

Rufus glares at him. “Yes, but I’m talking to Annie. I haven’t seen her in twenty years. You can get another bloody cab.”

“No,” Ann says. “I’ve spent all day walking and riding in trains and sitting on that bench waiting. I might not have a werewolf’s appetite, but I am famished. I wish to clean up, change my dress, and get something to eat.”

“You definitely need to change,” Rufus says with another grin. “You look as if you’re a poor relation come to play governess for your wealthy relatives. The girl I remember wouldn’t have been caught dead in that dress.”

I open my mouth to cut in, but Ann responds smoothly, “I am no longer nine. My taste in clothing has changed.”

He eyes her drab dress. “Not that much.”

“I don’t know what you packed, Ann,” I say. “But we will make sure you have what you need before we visit the Cambrian Pack. Now, let us see whether we can all squeeze into that cab.”

We find lodgings within Bishop’s range of acceptability. Fine, it’s my range as well, and probably also Julius’s. We all need to learn to lower our standards, but as long as people keep showering us with money—first Hamish and then Beatrice—there’s no need to settle for less.

Our hotel isn’t grand, but Rufus still whistles walking in. He also jokes about whether it’s up to Ann’s standards. Again, we all duck the awkward presumption that Ann is still the pampered Pack daughter he remembers. How long we’ll be able to keep doing so is another matter.

I offer to help Ann unpack, which I’m hoping will give us a moment to discuss the situation, but she shoos me off. She’d like some time to herself, thank you, and she will see me at dinner.

When we reconvene on the street to find said dinner, Rufus shoots a dubious look at Ann’s dress, which is cleaner but not any nicer. Like the rest of us, she’d fled Trevelyan with nothing but what she wore, and I wonder how she was able to find a secondhand gown that fits so well, but then I remember what Bishop said about her sewing skills. She must have bought a cheap secondhand dress and quickly altered it. When Rufus seems ready to comment, we divert him with talk of dinner.

“Ann should choose,” Rufus says. “Just nothing so fancy they won’t let me in the door. What sort of place would you like, Annie?”

Panic flickers across her face, and I realize she wouldn’t know much about restaurants. She’d visited them as a child—she mentioned going for tea—but that was a very long time ago.

“I would like to dine with Cordelia,” she says, before anyone can intercede. “You gentlemen may find your own restaurant.”

“I wish that we could do that,” Bishop says. “But Cordelia and I had an unexpected encounter in Glasgow, one that means she and I must remain with Rufus, who is acting as our enforcer. However, we could certainly dine at different tables within the same establishment.”