by Nhys Glover
‘Slim of build?’ Jasper said, drawing her away from her memories.
‘Yes. Very. More like a boy than a man. That is why the facial hair seemed so odd. Someone so young should not have been able to grow so much.’
‘Did he have blemished skin?’
‘Why, no. But he was scarred, as if he had once had blemishes. Do you know of the man?’
Jasper nodded thoughtfully. ‘I knew of such a youth at Cambridge. It was my last year and he was fresh from Eton. But he was sent down during his first year for undisclosed misbehaviour. Rumour had it that he arranged for ladies of the night to be brought into college. Others involved escaped such punishment through the influence of powerful parents. But he did not. He had no facial hair as you describe, but he was a sallow youth with lank hair and very bad skin. His teeth were yellow, too, if I remember. A most unsavoury chap.
‘Yes, now I think of it, he did have bad teeth and his breath smelled, even though he covered it with cloves.’
‘And this is the blackguard who tried to force himself on you?’ Jasper seemed suddenly furious, and he drew himself to his full height and clenched his fists at his sides.
From the surprise on Byron and Phil’s faces, Fidelia had to assume this was not the way Jasper normally behaved. They seemed edgy, and Byron took a step between Jasper and herself, as if he feared Jasper would take out his fury on her. But that wasn’t what she felt. There was no threat to her from this man. His fury was directed at her attacker, and that left her feeling warm and protected.
‘Unfortunately, we cannot ask you to stay with us over the next few days as we are already over-booked. But I will arrange for a man to guard your hotel in Harrogate. You are staying in Harrogate?’
‘Yes. In a small private establishment. I do not think a guard is necessary.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Jasper barked. ‘If this blackguard knew where Phil came from, he might assume you would come to her here.’
Fidelia hadn’t considered that possibility. To her, Yorkshire was like the other side of the world, too far away from civilisation for anyone to find her. But if she was wrong…?
‘I agree, Dee. And in a couple of days you can come back here until it is safe. Byron, can you contact the constabulary on this?’
‘Yes. I will send a letter immediately. I am not sure what can be done without evidence, but at least if the authorities are made aware of his actions, they might identify other crimes for which he is responsible. If he was carrying out such activities at University, who knows what else he might been involved in now.’
Fidelia shuddered, thinking, yet again, of the possibility that Rathgart had been responsible for Howard’s death. It seemed too impossible. Such actions occurred, she knew that. But not in her world. Certainly not to someone she was close to. If she could have been called close to Howard.
‘Do not fear, Lady Montgomery. This man will cause you no further problems.’ Jasper said these words in a harsh rasp, as if he wanted to yell them rather than speak in normal tones.
Fidelia looked up at him with gratitude, and was once more caught by the wildness in his blue eyes. She had never seen eyes like this on a man before. She remembered seeing a fox that crossed her path one day when she was out strolling. It had frozen in place at the sight of her, and for a few brief moments their gazes had met. Those eyes had held this kind of wildness. No threat, just something primordial. And then the creature had disappeared into the undergrowth, as if it had never been.
Hungry. The fox and the man were hungry. But whereas the fox had not considered her a possible meal, this man certainly did. It was as if he wanted to eat her whole. And the idea thrilled her at the same moment it terrified her.
Jasper stood beside Byron and Phil as the young widow was driven away. She had stayed for luncheon and met some of the other inmates, but from the bemused expression on her face, she seemed unable to understand what the strange hodgepodge of personalities were doing at the Keep.
‘Did she comment on us?’ Jasper asked Phil, finally able to breathe properly for the first time. Her scent was now far enough away that his beast was no longer affected by it.
‘Comment?’ Phil looked surprised.
‘Yes. She must have wondered why we were all together like that. Servants and nobility mixing so freely.’
Phil frowned. ‘You know, I did not even think about it. These days, it is just so much a part of this place that I do not consider it unusual anymore. But you are right, Dee would find it odd. But she did not say anything. I think she has far more pressing matters on her mind than our egalitarian arrangement here.’
‘You might be right,’ he replied unconvinced. What did he want Phil to say? That she had found them all disgusting? Even had she thought it, the sweet little woman would never have said such a hurtful and impolite thing to her friend.
‘What is going on with you, Jas?’ Byron asked, running his fingers through his dishevelled hair. He needed to sleep. The full moon nights always left him sleepless. Normally he and Phil would have taken to their beds by now to catch up on a few hours of rest before the next night of wakefulness.
‘It has something to do with Dee, does it not? You do not still think she is guilty of any crime do you?’ Phil looked at him as if she was trying to see inside him. He hated that look.
‘Of course not. I do not know what is wrong. But I feel fine now. Just an aberration, I hope. So you think the coachman will be able to arrange a suitable guard on such short notice?’
‘He is being paid well enough to do so. But I may ride into Harrogate myself later, just to check.’ Byron said.
‘I would offer to do it, but with the way winter nights come on so quickly…’
‘No, there is no possibility of any of you going to Harrogate. I am still concerned about this missing young woman. There has been no word.’
‘Do you think something dire has happened?’ Phil asked, turning back toward the door of the Keep now that the carriage was out of sight.
‘It does not bode well. But there is little we can do until word comes.’ Byron put a heavy arm around Phil’s shoulder and drew her close.
‘I do not like the idea of Lady Montgomery being in danger from Rathgart or this missing woman,’ Jasper found himself confiding.
‘Dee won’t be out in the open after dark, Jas. So she is not in danger from Rebecca. Her guard might be if he does not have a gun on him. Will you make sure he is properly protected, when you go in?’ Phil looked up at Byron.
‘Certainly. I would expect him to be properly armed, regardless. This Rathgart is not to be taken lightly.’
Jasper tried not to look behind him, to where the carriage had disappeared down the moorside. He felt more relieved now that her scent was gone, but more restless, too. Even though it was safer for the small widow to be gone from the Keep, it didn’t feel good. It was as if something valuable had just been taken away from him.
CHAPTER FIVE
The following morning Jasper came to himself in the open, a light dusting of snow covering his naked body. He shivered as the adrenalin spiked. Where was he? What had happened?
He could tell that it was just after dawn and the freezing weather meant that few people were out of doors, even at what must be nearly eight in the morning. His surroundings were unfamiliar, too built-up to be anywhere near the Keep. Somehow, he had escaped captivity the night before and made his way here.
Where was here? A backyard of some kind. He appeared to have taken shelter behind a tool shed.
Looking down at his goose-fleshed skin, he was relieved to see no signs of blood or gore. He hadn't attacked anyone during the night, then. But what had he done? And why had he travelled so far out of his own territory to do it? Their monsters were territorial, like any beast. They preferred their own domain in which to roam. He’d learned that from research rather than personal experience.
Raking his brain, he searched for the vague flashes of memory that always remained after a night in werewo
lf form. Nothing came. He went back to memories of the day before.
He’d remained restless all afternoon, waiting for Byron to get back from checking up on the widow. Even though he’d tried to work, he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the memory of the young woman he had so badly manhandled.
His confidence in himself and his control had been shattered by his experience with her. All of his hard-won acceptance had been washed away in a few short minutes. No matter what Phil said, he was no more than a beast. That morning’s actions were no anomaly; they were the reality beneath the false façade he wore every day.
But the crumbled facade seemed to have something to do with the woman. This lack of control seemed to be directly related to her. If she had been one of his own kind, he might have thought she was in season and that the madness was because the wolf smelled a mate. But she wasn't. She was human. It just didn't make sense.
He cast around him for some idea where he was and how he had come to be there.
Then a flash of something shocking came to him. He'd locked himself in and hidden the key before he 'turned' that night. Why on earth would he do such a thing? Yet he remembered it clearly. Jamey had thought Byron had taken the key and Byron had assumed Jamey had done it. Neither considered Jasper capable of such duplicity. And his brooding silence kept them both from asking him.
As the others began the change in the cells around him he fought it long enough to unlock his cell door. The next flash of memory was of loping along a track, following what was left of a scent. Her scent.
So he must have followed her to...where? He tried to remember what Harry had said. Something about a hotel in Harrogate where she was taking the waters? Had he made it all the way to Harrogate?
Then what? He saw himself scratching at a door and howling at the moon in his frustration. Had he stayed outside her hotel all night? Just waiting? Surely the guard would have seen him and shot him?
His teeth began to chatter with the cold. In beast state, his fur was enough to keep him warm, but once the change was complete he was as prone to the cold as any human, especially naked as he now was. In fact, if he didn't find clothes and shelter soon, he would die of the cold.
He crept out from behind the shed and made his way to the back door of the closest building. He could see his paw prints there, circling and recircling the spot. There were claw marks in the door, as well. There wasn't much he could do about the door, but he could cover his tell-tale tracks. He did this quickly with a fallen branch from a nearby tree.
The cold was getting worse. His feet were numb and so were his hands. His teeth wouldn't stop chattering.
The door, when he tried it, was locked. Desperately, he tried to think of his next plan of action. But then, as the futility of it all set in, the door magically opened and the tiny widow stood in the doorway. Her gasp of surprise nearly had him running away. But the chance to get inside to the warmth was stronger than his desire to escape detection.
He pushed her back into the house and closed the door behind them. Then he leaned against it while he took in his surroundings. They were in a passageway. Ahead led to the front of the hotel and to his left was the laundry room that he knew would have a drying room attached. He could feel the heat coming from that direction already and his numb feet tingled.
'It's you! My Lord, what are you doing here in that state? Cover yourself, sir!'
Jasper glanced back at the woman and registered her embarrassment. But there was no fear in her eyes, which surprised him. After what he had done to her the day before, and his sudden appearance, naked and frostbitten, he'd have expected her to be screaming with alarm by now.
But she wasn't. Instead, she was just deeply discomforted by his lack of clothing.
'I do apologise for my state of undress, and I would cover myself if I could. I am freezing! There may be something I can borrow in there.' He pointed toward the laundry.
He didn't want to leave her, but the cold outweighed his desires. He prowled through the laundry and located the drying room. Surprisingly, he heard her light footsteps behind him. Instead of running away, she was following him!
Much to his delight, the drying room was well stocked with men's clothes and they were dry, if somewhat creased. Even more fortuitous was the fact that there was no one else about. He wondered where the Hotel staff was at this time of the morning.
As if reading his mind, the widow told him what he wanted to know.
'Everyone is at a meeting in the dining room. There was a death overnight, and the manager is making everyone aware of the arrangements.'
'A death?' Jasper's heart froze. Surely he hadn't killed someone the night before?
'Yes, the old lady in the room next to mine. Maude told me. She died in her sleep, the poor dear.'
Jasper sagged against a table in relief. He wasn't responsible. The death was a natural one.
The widow cleared her throat and that drew his attention to his nakedness once more. Grabbing up a few necessities, he began to pull them on. Sweet warmth spread through his limbs, especially after he put on a pair of thick woollen stockings.
'I supposed this isn't as bad as if you were a virgin,' he found himself saying as he put on the last stocking. Even before the words were out he realized how inappropriate they were.
'Why might that be Lord...Jasper?' He realised that she didn't remember his last name and so had improvised.
‘Lord Jasper Horton. But please, call me Jasper, Lady Montgomery. I think the conditions warrant a certain informality in greeting. And ah...a virgin would not have seen a naked man before. It would be quite terrifying for her, I imagine. Especially a stranger at the door. But a married lady like yourself, well, you will have seen it all before...' His explanation petered out and he squirmed with embarrassment. This was not the conversation a gentleman would have with a lady, married or otherwise. He may spend three nights a month a beast, but he still had his civility. Well, he had, up until yesterday.
What was it about this little woman that made him feel his wildness, even in human form? There had to be more to it than just her looks. She was certainly a beauty, in that fashionable porcelain doll way. Even at this time of the morning her blonde hair was already primped and curled. She looked too perfect to be real.
Her pale cheeks blushed pink under his scrutiny. Or was it the topic of conversation?
Her small breasts heaved in a sharp in-breath, pressing up over her corset that turned her waist into something so tiny he could span it with the fingers of both hands. Her dainty hands, covered with black kid gloves, fluttered like butterflies at her sides, unsure where to land. Big, storm-cloud grey eyes stared up at him in shock.
'I cannot speak for any other married lady, sir, but I have never 'seen it all', as you so gallantly put it. My husband, God rest his soul, was very proper.' She spoke snootily, trying to look down her turned up nose at him. This failed hopelessly because he towered over her, forcing her to look up, instead of down, her nose.
'And while he remained properly covered, did he also insist you remain so, too, even when making love to you?' he asked, his curiosity inflamed.
He watched her blush even brighter, and she looked away from him and shuffled her feet.
'That is correct. It...It would have been most improper for him to have seen me uncovered...And I find this conversation totally improper, my Lord. I must go.'
Before she could make good her escape, his hand snaked out and grabbed hers. He drew her toward him with it and breathed deeply of her sweet perfume. She was all honey suckle and warmth and it left him mindless. His beast had finally got what it was after. Dee was his to do with as he wanted.
He fought back that thought. It was untrue. No gentleman would hold such base thoughts. This woman was not his to do with as he pleased. But as he looked down into her flushed face, her eyes bright with excitement, he felt himself harden as he fought the urge to draw her against him. Fought the urge to claim her completely.
What so
rt of man would have remained properly covered with someone like this in his bed? She was every man’s fantasy. Sweetly innocent, yet overpoweringly seductive. Did she know what she was doing? Did she realise that the way she licked her pink lips like that was an almost unbearable invitation?
He dragged his gaze from her seductive mouth and scanned their surroundings. It was warm in this large room. And it smelled of starch and washing powder. Clean. It smelled overpoweringly clean to his beast’s senses. But nothing overpowered her scent, for him. It surrounded him, tempting him to come closer, drawing more of it in to his nose. He drew her closer by the unresisting hand he held.
No! Jasper fought the urge. This woman had been accosted by a blackguard only recently. He didn’t want to do the same to her. She deserved better.
But even as he thought it, he reached over and pushed the drying room door closed, sealing them in together.
Fidelia couldn't move. From the moment she’d opened the door that morning, on the way to the outhouse in the back yard, she’d been under his spell. Standing there in front of her, pale skin blue with cold, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Even the picture of Michelangelo’s David she and Phil had sneaked a peak at long ago couldn’t match the perfection of the man before her.
Every part of his body was heavily muscled. Those muscles rippled as he moved. She had thought him an odd collection of mismatched parts the day before, but seeing him in all his naked glory revealed the true symmetry of his form.
And the long-fingered hand that now held hers was just as fine. She found she could not take her eyes from it. The nails were short, clean and neat, knuckles large and yet shapely. There were fine golden hairs on the back that matched the hair she had seen on the rest of his body only moments before.