by Lydia Dare
Simon was already absorbed in the ledgers Billings had left for him to check. He needed something to focus on besides the pain in his chest, to keep him from foolishly searching out Lily and begging for forgiveness.
He dropped his head into his hands, wondering how in the world he was going to handle his present situation.
“You won’t find redemption for your latest sins in that book, Simon.” Will broke him from his reverie.
Without speaking or even looking up, Simon tossed the open ledger at Will’s head. His aim was deadly, but the man was agile and fast enough to duck before it could strike him.
Undaunted, Will poured himself a glass of Simon’s best whisky from a sideboard and took the chair across from him. He dangled one leg over the arm of the chair in a supremely relaxed male pose.
“So, what are you planning?” Will asked congenially. “And how long will you torture yourself before you give in and take Lily to bed? The full moon is nearly upon us, yet you have her secured here at Westfield Hall, right in the path of danger.”
“I know!” Simon roared, standing up so fast that his chair toppled over behind him. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, hoping to push back some of the confusion that wracked his brain.
Will took a deep breath. “You know, Simon,” he said calmly. “Our parents had a wonderful relationship.” He let that thought trail off.
Simon raised his head and glared at his brother. Will simply shrugged. “You know it’s true. Father was one of us. He faced the same beast we face every day, and Mother loved him.”
“Lily can’t know!” Simon groaned. “She simply can’t.”
“Why not?” Will asked, as though he’d asked what was for dinner. But, to Simon, he might as well have been pondering the makings of the universe.
“You saw the way her sister was with Daniel. She married him, and then she became a fearful little waif. She was scared of her own shadow.”
“Daniel never had anyone to teach him to be a man,” Will said quietly. “You are a very different person than he was.”
“I am the same type of person he was, Will. You seem to have forgotten. All it took was one full moon. He shared himself with her on one full moon, and she would never let him come near her again, not in that way. I wouldn’t be able to stand it, to see Lily hurt the way Emma was.” And he couldn’t. It would kill him for Lily to fear him or, worse, to pity him.
“Tell her, Simon. And let her make the choice,” Will said before he extricated himself from his slouch in the chair and started for the door.
Simon flung his inkwell at Will, and it crashed against the now closed door, splattering black liquid all over. He had to fight the urge to give chase and throttle the man when he heard Will’s laughter from the hallway.
Lily sighed, running her fingers along the book spines in the Westfield library. With the weather simply horrid, she hadn’t left the manor house, though she desperately wanted to do so. She felt trapped and dismissed all at once.
How could she possibly get Blackmoor to change his mind about Oliver? She didn’t think begging would work. She wished she had something to barter or wager. The duke did a fair amount of gambling, after all. But she had nothing even to tempt him with. Even if she had something of value, she didn’t know the first thing about gambling.
“Ah, there you are,” Will’s voice came from the doorway. “Looking for a good book?”
Lily turned around and graced him with a smile. “I’d much rather be out of doors, but in this weather…”
He strode further into the room. “How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.
Lily wished Lord William had been made Oliver’s guardian. He’d be so much easier to work with. Blast Daniel for leaving the boy to that obstinate ox instead! She shook her head. “What is the easiest card game to cheat at?”
His blue eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “Cheat?” he echoed.
Lily shrugged. “I need to find some way to keep Oliver. I thought a game of chance…”
“Where you held all the cards, so to speak?” he chuckled. “Simon will definitely have his hands full with you.”
“Have you a better idea?”
A feminine giggle from somewhere close caught Will’s attention, and he winced, his usual smile faded away. His reaction immediately piqued Lily’s interest. “What’s wrong?”
“Not what. Who,” he grumbled.
With a world-weary sigh, he turned back toward the door and looked down the hallway, like a child checking for an escape route. Lily couldn’t help but laugh. “Who then?”
“A neighbor.” A second later, he groaned. “It’s too late. We could hide, but she’d still find us.”
Lily couldn’t imagine Lord William Westfield hiding from anyone. She brushed past him and peeked around the corner of the door. The most beautiful woman Lily had ever seen was just a few feet away. Ebony hair, knotted at the base of her neck, draped over one shoulder. Violet eyes twinkled beneath a pair of slender brows. An expensive day dress peeked out from beneath a long coat.
The striking woman smiled. “You must be Miss Rutledge. Please tell me William is cowering behind a bookcase.”
Lily choked on a laugh. Her guess was fairly close to accurate.
Will stepped into the hallway, glowering. “My dear Prisca, you do suffer such delusions of grandeur.”
The beautiful woman’s eyes narrowed to little violet slits. Then she stepped forward, focusing on Lily. “Uncivilized beast. Since his lordship is either incapable or unwilling to introduce us, allow me, Miss Rutledge. Prisca Hawthorne of Langley Downs.”
She unbuttoned her coat and then thrust it in Will’s hands.
“Oh, do let me take your coat,” he said mordantly.
Lily smiled. “A pleasure, Miss Hawthorne.”
“Ah, Prisca, please. I insist.”
“Prisca, then.” She gestured to the library behind them, “Would you care for tea?”
Prisca arched one perfect brow and pierced Will with a haughty stare. “Pretty and polite. I can’t imagine why she would waste her time with you, William.”
Will looked past Prisca, down the hallway. “Where is Emory? Tell me he didn’t turn you loose on Westfield property. I’ll have to end our friendship.”
“Oh, please do,” Prisca countered. “My brother would do well to end his association with you.” Then she linked her arm with Lily’s. “Tea does sound delightful, thank you very much, Miss Rutledge.”
“Lily,” she offered quietly, slightly surprised by the whole interaction.
As they stepped into the library, Will followed. “Tell me, Miss Hawthorne, do you sharpen your tongue at night, on the off chance you’ll get to use it on me?”
Prisca laughed, a sweet melodic sound that filled the room. “And I am the one who suffers delusions of grandeur? On the contrary, William, I hardly ever think of you. I heard a rumor in the village that one of Blackmoor’s prodigal brothers had returned. I’d so hoped it was Benjamin.”
Will stopped dead in his tracks, a frown marring his handsome face.
Prisca smiled beatifically at him, and Lily was certain she’d never met a more stunning woman. “Emory is visiting His Grace, if you’re of a mind to find him.”
Will glared at her and then bowed to Lily. “We’ll finish our discussion later.”
After he left, a genuine smile lit up Prisca’s face. “Please tell me you haven’t lacked for female companionship for too long. If I’d known Blackmoor had guests, I’d have come much earlier. I can’t imagine they have much to entertain you with, if you’ve had to resort to speaking with William.”
Lily shook her head. “Actually, Lord William has been quite gracious. Do you truly dislike him?” It was hard to imagine anyone could do so. She would have been completely lost without him.
Prisca furrowed her brow. “I much prefer Blackmoor, if truth be told. At least one knows where one stands with the duke.”
A stab of jealousy pierced
Lily’s heart. No matter that she was furious with Simon Westfield, that she’d envisioned strangling him more than once that very day—she could never forget how it felt to have him touch her, kiss her, make her lose all thought and reason. Lily was certain she would appear terribly drab next to such an exquisite creature as Prisca Hawthorne.
“Are you all right?” Prisca asked, alarm in her voice.
“Yes, of course,” Lily lied. Something was wrong with her nephew. She’d kissed his guardian, who threatened to take Oliver from her. Her life had been completely turned upside down on every level. “I am surprised you prefer His Grace. He seems quite unapproachable.”
Prisca smiled. “You just have to know how to deal with men. God punished me with five brothers, but having them has trained me well. Do you have brothers, Lily?”
“I lost my only sister six years ago.”
Prisca’s smile faded. “Lady Maberley. I met her once. You’ve been caring for the young earl, I understand.”
Lily nodded, willing herself not to cry.
“How long will you be visiting?”
Until Blackmoor threw her out of the house or forced her into a marriage she didn’t want. With those thoughts, Lily lost the battle with her tears, and they spilled down her cheeks.
“There, there.” Prisca said, offering her handkerchief. “It can’t be all that bad.”
“It’s awful,” Lily sobbed. Prisca hugged her tightly. “I don’t even know you, and look at me… I’m crying all over you. I’m terribly sorry.” She dabbed at her eyes.
“Nonsense! Whatever it is, you should get it all out.”
Lily sniffed back her tears. “You’re very kind.”
“Don’t let William hear you say that. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
Lily laughed.
“What I was going to ask, Lily, was whether you’d be here at the end of the week. Friday, there’s a ball at the assembly room. Nothing large. Not by Town standards, for sure. But it is delightfully fun. And if you’ve been cooped up here with the brothers Westfield, I’m certain you’ll need an escape.”
A ball? Lily couldn’t remember the last time she went to a ball. Years, at the very least. She shook her head. “Oh, I think not. I wouldn’t have a thing to wear.”
Prisca’s eyes lit up. “Is that all?”
Lily sighed. “Truly, I wasn’t planning on staying long at all. I certainly didn’t bring anything appropriate for a ball, small or otherwise.”
Prisca clapped her hands together. “Perfect. I’ve been looking for a project. And I love to sew. I’ve got a magnificent green silk. I think it would perfectly bring out your eyes. Please say you’ll stay and let me make you a magnificent dress.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She had so many worries. A ball seemed so frivolous compared to them all.
Prisca’s violet eyes twinkled. “No, Lily, you must come. If you agree, then that scoundrel William Westfield will have to escort you, and there’s nothing he hates more than a small country ball.”
“Oh, I could never,” Lily began. She didn’t want to make Will angry. He was her one hope at getting Blackmoor to change his mind about Oliver.
“Go ahead and agree, Lily,” Will said from the doorway. “She’ll never let up until you do.” Then he focused his eyes on Prisca. “Do save me a waltz, Prissy.”
Nine
SIMON GAPED AT HIS BROTHER. WHAT HAD THE FOOL been thinking? “Absolutely not! No balls.”
“Sorry, Simon. I already agreed.” Will examined his fingernails as he leaned against the wall. “That pest Prisca Hawthorne goaded me into it.”
“But Friday!” Simon paced around his study. “That’s—”
“The night after the full moon. I know. By then, the worst of the affliction will have passed.”
“But the wildness will still remain,” Simon reminded his brother. He couldn’t fathom why in the world William would want to put himself in the position of being on guard for an entire torturous evening, fighting the basest of instincts. Every scent of a woman, every brush of a body on the dance floor, every clasp of a hand, even in innocence, would be impossible to ignore.
“The wildness is there every day, Simon,” Will replied as he clasped his hand to his brother’s shoulder.
The tinkling sound of Lily’s laughter drew Simon from his study. This was, of course, the first time he’d heard it since their arrival at Westfield Hall. But that sound would draw him from the depths of hell.
Simon turned the corner into his gold parlor, Will in his wake, to find Lily laughing with his old friend Emory Hawthorne and his sister. Simon had thought their neighbors had already left. He couldn’t imagine why the pair was still there until he saw the look of infatuation in Emory’s eyes as he gazed at Lily.
The beast rose in him once again. Must every man stare at her in such a way? “Miss Rutledge, I’ll have a word with you,” he clipped out. Lily and the Hawthornes turned toward him, surprised expressions on their faces, yet he did not regret his tone. She would be well served to heed his mood and remove her fingertips from Emory’s hand. Immediately.
Lily raised her nose at him. “I’ll be along in a moment, Your Grace.” Then Emory regained her full attention.
Simon felt his hackles rise and was one step from baring his teeth at one of his oldest friends when Will stepped forward. “I imagine we’ll see you at this ball your sister seems obsessed with, Emory.” Will touched the man’s shoulder and turned him toward the door, shooting a warning glare at Simon. Will’s warning should have been saved for Emory because he was the one in imminent danger, Simon thought.
Emory was oblivious to the fact that his life was in jeopardy. “Miss Rutledge, I would be honored if you’d allow me to escort you to the assembly room on Friday night.”
Simon growled.
“Well, I—”
Simon snarled, “If Miss Rutledge insists on attending a party, she will be escorted by me, Hawthorne.”
“I will?” Lily asked, one hand fluttering to land on her chest.
If only his lips were upon that chest, Simon thought. He tore his gaze away from Lily’s cleavage when Will said, “Why don’t we all go together, Emory? We can meet you both at Langley Downs beforehand.”
“Oh, William,” Prisca began, feigning sweetness. “If you wanted to escort me to the ball, you had only to ask. No need for an elaborate ruse to get me into your coach.” She winked at Lily.
Will muttered under his breath, “If it saves your brother’s life, I would agree to take you to the altar.” Simon’s keen hearing picked up the words, though he was beyond caring.
Simon stalked slowly toward Emory Hawthorne, who still stood too close to Lily for comfort. Emory paid no heed to the warning look he sent him, so Simon bumped his shoulder against the man.
Emory stumbled to the side.
“Pardon me, Hawthorne,” Simon said as he took Lily’s elbow in his hand and prodded her away from the group.
“Honestly, Blackmoor,” Lily complained. “I told you I’ll be along in a moment.” She yanked her arm from his grasp. He allowed it, but only for a moment.
“Now, Lily!” he said, grasping her elbow more firmly. He was prepared to drag her, if need be, though it would be better for the neighbors if she came willingly.
“It’s all right, Lily,” Prisca said, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. “You’d best do as he says. He looks ready to devour you right here and now.”
Only Prisca would make such an incendiary statement in such a public place. Though Simon supposed his behavior warranted her waspishness.
“I’ll send a coach for you tomorrow, Lily, so we can prepare for the ball,” Prisca continued as Simon pushed Lily around the corner.
“Thank you,” Lily called back as he led her into his study and slammed the door. Then she glared at him, her pretty, hazel eyes darkening. “Honestly, Your Grace!”
“Simon,” he said absently, running a hand through his hair in desperation, trying to rein the
beast back under control, trying to figure out why it drove him to distraction to see other men fawning all over her.
“Simon what?” she asked, confusion on her face.
“I’m tired of you ‘Your Grace-ing’ me. You call Will by his name.”
“Is that what this is about? Why you manhandled me in front of your neighbors?”
“I did not manhandle you.”
“You most certainly did. That had to be one of the rudest displays of temper I have ever seen.” Lily rubbed her elbow.
Had he harmed her? Simon looked over her person. Her chest was pink and rosy, a symbol of her anger. Her cheeks were bright red, and her breasts rose with every agitated breath.
Her breasts. Her breasts rose with every breath. His gaze danced across her décolletage, willing the flesh to rise a little more so his eyes could greedily devour her skin. She noticed his stare and covered her chest with her hand.
“Perhaps, Simon, you should just undress me and get it over with, instead of simply undressing me in your mind.”
Simon instantly hardened at the thought. He took two steps closer to her. “Perhaps I shall.”
Lily immediately forgot the pain in her elbow as he walked closer. What was he doing? She hadn’t really laid down a challenge. She held up one feeble hand, as though that would hold him off.
It didn’t.
Lily danced sideways, putting a chair between them. Simon pushed it over. As it thumped against the rug, she fled to stand behind his desk.
“Simon, what has come over you?” she shrieked. Her voice sounded painful to her own ears. Though it did not affect his, not if his present conduct was any indication.
“I want to see if I hurt your elbow, Lily,” he said quietly, his voice no more than a low hum.
“Then why are you stalking me?” she asked, happy that the desk was still solidly between them.
He laughed mirthlessly. “What an odd thing to say, Lily. I am not stalking you.”
However as he advanced toward her, all Lily could think was that she was about to become his dinner. What a silly notion. Though at times, Simon did remind her of a wild animal. Now was no exception.