Lydia Dare Wolf Bundle

by Lydia Dare

  She stepped over the threshold to find the two women sitting side by side on the settee. “Good afternoon.”

  “Oh!” they cried in unison, though it was Prisca who leapt from her spot. “Lily, you’re home!”

  As the two embraced, Alice slowly rose from her seat. “I trust everything went well, dear?”

  Lily nodded. It was a lie, but she didn’t know how else to respond. It seemed, however, that Alice had keen senses. Her mother-in-law’s eyes narrowed, obviously assessing her. “Come join us for tea,” Alice continued.

  Lily allowed the dowager to lead her to the settee before assuming the spot beside her. “Your letter mentioned you were to see Richard III.”

  “Oh!” Prisca exclaimed as she settled on a chair across from them. “I hear Kean is excellent in the role. I do prefer the comedies however. Twelfth Night is my particular favorite.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” Alice asked.

  “Yes.” Until she learned all of London thought she was of easy virtue, and before she once again laid eyes on Teresa Hamilton. “I met Mr. and Mrs. Alstott.”

  Alice’s grey eyes widened. “Indeed? It’s been an age. Did they seem well?”

  Lily nodded again and then discussed the play in great detail. After more questions were asked and answered, Prisca announced that it was late and she really should return home. Good-byes and hugs were exchanged, and in no time Lily found herself alone with Alice.

  “All right, Lily,” her mother-in-law began quietly, “it’s just us. I can tell something is bothering you.”

  It was just them. Lily squared her shoulders. “Does the full moon mean anything to you?” she blurted out.

  She expected the dowager to look surprised or taken aback by her question, but Alice smiled instead. “It comes around once a month.”

  Not a very satisfying answer. Lily scowled. “I know Simon is keeping something from me, and it has to do with the full moon.”

  Alice heaved a sigh. “Figured all that out by yourself?”

  Was it impossible for the woman to give her a helpful response? “Do you know what it is?”

  Alice rose from her seat. “Dear Lily, I don’t often understand my sons’ choices. Take Miss Hawthorne, for example. Why William keeps himself from her I have no idea. They’d both be much happier if he didn’t. And with Benjamin, there are so many things I don’t understand about him that there’s not even a good starting place.”

  “And Simon?” Lily asked, her patience wearing thin.

  “Well, Simon I understand. I just don’t happen to agree with him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I can’t tell you what you want to know, Lily.” Her expression was pained.

  “Why not?”

  “Do you love my son?”

  More than life, or she wouldn’t care about any of this. Lily nodded, which made Alice smile and clasp her hand.

  “My dear, you’ve figured out so much on your own. You’re on the right path. Follow your heart.”

  “Why can’t you tell me what is going on?” Lily begged.

  “Because it’s not allowed. Only Simon can do so.”

  Lily thought she might scream. Only Simon could tell her? That was the most unhelpful thing Alice could have said. Simon had no intention of telling her anything.

  She was on her own.

  After dismissing Oliver, Simon returned to his desk to pore over a report from his steward. It wasn’t the most interesting reading, but it would serve to keep his mind off Prisca Hawthorne.

  Truly he shouldn’t be so irritated with the meddlesome chit. If she hadn’t interfered in his life, he wouldn’t have Lily. He should be thanking the girl. But the manipulative way she went about arranging things to her liking made it hard for him to keep a level head where she was concerned. With that in mind, it was perhaps for the best that Will had decided against throwing his lot in with the chit. He’d rather not have to kill his sister-in-law. Now if he could keep her from visiting Lily and his mother…

  A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and Simon pushed his report to the middle of his desk. “Come.”

  His mother poked her head inside. “Do you have a moment, dear?”

  He gestured to one of the chairs before him. “Of course.”

  She slipped inside and shut the door firmly behind her. She did not sit, however, as she chose to pace before his desk instead. “You need to tell her, Simon.”

  “Tell her to ban Prisca Hawthorne from my home? I was considering it,” he replied hopefully.

  She stopped walking, heaved an irritated sigh, and folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t be obtuse. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  His shoulders slumped forward. He did know what she meant; he’d just hoped it had to do with his rudeness toward Prisca. “We’ve already had this discussion. I won’t burden Lily with this aspect of my life.”

  His mother’s lips drew up tight. “She knows you’re keeping something from her.”

  Simon dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “She knows nothing. Don’t put your hopes for Lily above her best interests.”

  “My hopes for Lily,” she scoffed. “You really are more stubborn than even your father, Simon. She told me herself that she knows you’re keeping something important from her.”

  He swallowed. “She did?” Lily had asked him numerous times what secrets he kept from her, but he thought he’d convinced her otherwise.

  “Hmm,” she answered. “And she asked me if the full moon had anything to do with whatever you’re hiding.”

  His limbs all went weak. How could she possibly know that much? “What did you say?”

  “I told her it wasn’t allowed for me to say anything.”

  “God damn it, Mother!” He leapt to his feet while his pulse pounded in his ears and fear gripped his chest. Simon’s fist struck his desk with such a force that it split along the middle and his report fell to the floor along with all his unopened correspondence.

  Well accustomed to his temper, his mother didn’t even flinch. “Honestly, Simon, that desk belonged to your grandfather. You should have a care.”

  “To hell with the desk,” he roared, pushing it over as an afterthought. “Why would you tell her such a thing? Now she knows I’m hiding something.”

  His mother rubbed her temple, looking at him as if he were a simpleton. “She already knew that, Simon. How long do you think it will take for her to learn the rest of it? Tell her now, before she discovers it on her own.”

  “Simon,” Lily called from the library door.

  “Yes, love?” His voice came from a darkened corner.

  Strange. After they’d arrived at Westfield Hall, he hadn’t sought her out, and it was nearly time for dinner. Then there was the disaster she found in his study. It looked as though a wild animal had been trapped inside, destroying everything in sight. The image made chills race down her spine.

  Cautiously, Lily stepped into the room, finding her husband reclined in an overstuffed leather chair with a glass of something that smelled like whisky. “Are you all right?” she asked stopping before him.

  “Are you?” Simon countered. His grey eyes landed on her, reflecting a dangerous glint. The intensity of his gaze nearly shook her to her core, and she wasn’t at all certain it was her husband staring at her.

  A nervous giggle escaped her, and she pressed her nails into her palm, hoping to steady herself. “It is nearly time for dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Oh.” She frowned at him. She had the feeling she should leave him to his strange mood, but seeing him like this tore at her heart. “Is something amiss?” she asked, edging a bit closer to him.

  “Why would you think so?”

  “I went to your study first…” her voice trailed off when he winced.

  “I received some troubling news, is all. Nothing for you to worry about, Lily.”

  Troubling news? Though her rational mind
screamed for her to leave, she couldn’t do so. Lily dropped to her knees before him, clasping one strong hand with both of hers. “You are my husband, Simon. If something is troubling you, I can’t help but worry.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, something she couldn’t read. Then he smiled at her, a sad smile that made her heart constrict. “Are you happy with me? With all of this?”

  She kissed his hand that she had trapped. “Never doubt it.”

  Simon brushed her cheek with his free hand. “Lily, you should eat. I won’t have you withering away to nothing simply because I’m not hungry.”

  She tugged at his hand. “If you’d rather not eat, Simon, I’m sure I can think of something more enjoyable.”

  Forty

  SIMON WATCHED LILY CLOSELY OVER THE NEXT SEVERAL days. If he hadn’t had that disturbing conversation with his mother, he would never have known anything was amiss. She fussed over Oliver, sweetly insisting he work on his studies. Doting on the lad as if he were two instead of twelve. She worked on frilly sewing with his mother, chatting gaily all the while. And Lily continued to look at Simon with the same adoring, passion-hued eyes. He made love to her every night, and she responded just as she always had.

  He would have begun to think his imagination had invented the entire conversation with his mother, if not for the way she continued to pressure him when they were alone, insisting that he tell his wife the truth.

  “She’ll understand,” his mother hissed in the corridor outside the breakfast room.

  But he couldn’t be sure of that, and he brushed past her on his way to the library. His mother had accepted his father, and Mary Alstott accepted Charles, but there were even more examples where that didn’t turn out. Daniel and Emma were only one. And he kept coming back to the fact that Lily was Emma’s sister. There was no reason to believe she would feel differently than Emma.

  Giving only part of himself to Lily was better than not having her at all. It was a risk he couldn’t take.

  She couldn’t find out. He couldn’t lose her.

  He watched her across the room, turning the pages of an old book. Her nose crinkled up just a bit when she concentrated, and he loved the look on her.

  His attention was diverted from his wife when Billings cleared his throat in the library doorway. “Your Grace, a letter has arrived for you.”

  Simon dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Put it with the others, Billings.”

  “This one is from Major Forster. He had it hand delivered with the instructions that you were to open it right away.”

  Forster? Simon rose from his seat and started toward his butler, a smile on his face. The old major knew him well. The letter would most assuredly become lost amongst the others if he didn’t go to such lengths.

  Simon retrieved the letter from the silver salver Billings held and broke the seal.

  Dear Blackmoor,

  I hope you are well. As per our conversation last week, I have compiled a list of other boys enrolled at Harrow. The list is rather short, however. Only Leopold Schofield from Surrey is both registered with The Society and on the school rolls. The other boys have recently graduated and are already at Cambridge.

  I do not know if you are acquainted with the Schofields, but I can attest to the bravery of the boy’s father who fought under my command.

  I have sent a letter to Lieutenant Schofield, on your behalf, explaining the Earl of Maberley’s situation. The lieutenant should be contacting you directly. It would be best, dear boy, if you actually paid close attention to your correspondence over the next fortnight. Not everyone knows how to get your attention as well as I.

  Please send my love to your mother. I do hope to see you at Canis House soon.

  Sincerely,

  Maj. Desmond Forster

  “Is everything all right?” Lily asked, rising from her seat.

  Simon carefully folded the letter and put it in his pocket. He was surprised to see Lily’s gaze concentrated on him when he glanced in her direction. Her brows were drawn together, her hazel eyes troubled.

  “News, Simon?” she asked.

  “Nothing of importance, love,” he replied, trying to make his tone sound light. “Just a note from an old friend of my father.”

  “Which old friend?”

  Why all the questions? “Major Forster.” If he was fortunate, she would leave it at that.

  “And what did he want?”

  Simon closed his eyes and sighed. Please don’t force me to lie to you more than is necessary. “He knows of a boy who will be attending Harrow along with Oliver. He suggests that the boys meet before the session begins so they can become acquainted.”

  Lily crossed the floor, confusion reflected in her eyes. “I’m certain there will be a number of boys at Harrow for the Michaelmas term.”

  None like Leopold Schofield. “Yes, but I was looking for a mentor for Oliver. Someone to take him under his wing, so to speak. Major Forster thinks one of his lieutenant’s sons would be a good fit.”

  Lily reached out her hand to Simon, and, when he pulled her toward him, she kissed his cheek. “That was a very sweet thing to do.”

  Simon nuzzled against her neck, inhaling the soft lilac scent that he had come to identify with Lily. So light and feminine, so different from him. “I’m never sweet,” he said gruffly.

  She giggled at that, wrapping her arms around his middle. “I beg to differ.”

  “Not sweet,” he repeated, nipping at the base of her neck. “I had ulterior motives.”

  Lily’s lithe body molded against his. “I can’t imagine what you mean, Your Grace.”

  He blew his breath low across her bodice and cupped her bottom, pressing his arousal firmly against her softness. “I think it should be obvious.”

  “My beastly husband,” she began with a teasing lilt to her voice. “If you ruin my new gown, I’ll thrash you.”

  New gown? Simon ran his fingers along her silkcovered back. How had he not noticed she wore something new? “Is this one of Madam Pelletier’s?”

  Lily nodded. “An entire trunk arrived this morning. I can’t even imagine what you spent to have such an extensive order finished and delivered so quickly.”

  To hell with the dresses. Simon couldn’t hide his grin. If the order was complete, Lily should have received several pieces that were for his eyes only.

  “You have a strange look on your face,” she told him.

  Simon lifted one brow. “That, love, is me imagining what you’ll look like in one of your new nightrails.”

  A pretty blush pinkened her cheeks. “I don’t know why you bothered to order them at all. They don’t hide a thing. I might as well walk about nude.”

  Simon couldn’t resist squeezing her bottom. “Excellent suggestion.”

  Lily stepped out of his arms with an enchanting giggle. “Behave yourself, Simon Westfield. And you’ll have to be patient as well. I am supposed to leave for Langley Downs in a few moments.”

  Langley Downs. Simon’s smile became a scowl. “I’d rather you not spend time with Prisca Hawthorne.”

  Lily shook her head. “Why?”

  “Who do you think told Mrs. Bostic you were living here unchaperoned?” When Lily stared blankly at him, Simon continued, “That meddlesome chit can manage her brothers’ lives all she wants, but I take umbrage when she interferes in mine.”

  “Simon,” Lily began, “if you weren’t afraid for my reputation, would you have ever married me?”

  No. He’d have suffered without her. He wouldn’t have wished his life on her. He wouldn’t have tied her future to him.

  When he didn’t respond, Lily frowned at him. “I see. Are you sorry you married me?”

  “No,” he assured her and closed the distance between them. “Never believe that. I love that you’re mine, Lily.” Selfish bastard that he was, he could never let her go now.

  “Well,” Lily said, folding her arms across her chest. “I didn’t know Prisca was the cause. I’ll have t
o thank her over tea.”

  Langely Downs’ butler announced, “The Duchess of Blackmoor,” before returning to his post.

  As she stepped over the threshold of the green parlor, Lily was surprised to see that Prisca was not alone. “Your Grace.” Emory Hawthorne stood and bowed stiffly. “Allow me to offer my felicitations on your recent marriage.”

  Lily smiled at the gentleman, who seemed suddenly uncomfortable now that she’d arrived. Of course, the last time she’d seen him, she’d been in a terrible state of disarray, courtesy of Simon Westfield. “Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne. I shall pass on your well wishes to my husband.”

  After a tight smile, he excused himself and left Lily and Prisca to their own company. As Prisca linked her arm with Lily’s, her violet eyes twinkled mischievously. “All right, since the dowager isn’t with you, you can tell me everything, Lily.”

  “Everything?”

  Prisca nodded enthusiastically. “How is it? How do you like being a duchess?”

  “I suppose now would be a good time to thank you for ruining my reputation and forcing me into a marriage with Simon.”

  Prisca didn’t even look ashamed. Her smile grew larger, brightening the room. “It was a stroke of luck. I didn’t know what I was going to do until the situation presented itself. I am surprised Will told him, however. No wonder Blackmoor scowled at me when I left Westfield Hall last week. That man does not like to be managed.”

  “Hmm.” Lily agreed. “He mentioned as much.”

  “But are you happy?” Prisca asked, as she sat on the settee and gestured for Lily to join her.

  Lily couldn’t help but smile. “Very. I do want to thank you for everything, especially for braving Simon’s temper.”

  Prisca giggled. “Please. As I said before, I’ve known Blackmoor my entire life. I’m not the least bit afraid of him.”

  The room began to spin in Lily’s mind. She may not be able to get her mother-in-law to tell her anything, but Prisca might know what she was after. “I have a strange question to ask you.”