by Lydia Dare
He slowed as he approached her chamber door, which stood half-open. A low chuckle made him tilt his head and perk his ears up so he could hear better.
“Your son is outside the door, listening to us,” a male voice rumbled. Will could nearly hear the laughter in the man’s tone. But he heard something else that disconcerted him even more than that. He heard the low rumble of affection, admiration, and perhaps even desire.
Even though he knew his presence had already been detected, Will still waited outside the door, unable to make his feet move any farther.
“Simon and Benjamin both have better things to do, so I assume you’re referring to William.”
“I’m not certain I like the idea of my daughter being something for your son to do.”
His mother laughed. Not the laugh of a mother. Or a duchess. But the laugh of a woman besotted. When had that come about?
The major had been one of his father’s dearest friends, but he’d never known the fellow to be so close with his mother. Perhaps, since Ben and Elspeth were about to make them grandparents, they shared a common bond now.
Will finally leaned around the edge of the door. The scene in the room was so cozy it nearly made him uncomfortable. The major sat in a chair at his mother’s bedside with his elbows resting on his knees, his arms extended so that he clutched her hand between his own and looked lovingly upon her.
He wished his mother every happiness. She had been alone a good many years, but… Well, the idea of anyone, even a man he greatly respected, paying court to Alice Westfield made him fairly uncomfortable.
“Good morning, William,” the major said, without taking his eyes off the dowager duchess.
“Uh, good morning,” Will said as he stood there in the doorway, looking like he was completely daft, he was sure.
“Did you need something, Will?” his mother asked. She dragged her eyes away from the major as though it was a chore to do so.
“I just wanted to check on you. I can come back later.”
“That would be wonderful, dear,” she replied absently, her eyes closing slightly.
“I’m afraid I’ve worn her out this morning,” the major said, his brow knit with concern. “Alice, I’ll take my leave as well.” He looked at her with a questioning glance.
“Stay,” she murmured as her eyes drifted completely shut. The major settled back into the chair at her bedside and shot him an apologetic glance.
Will wasn’t quite sure what to think about this latest development. Was either of his brothers aware of the situation? He couldn’t imagine that Simon would approve. Of course, Ben couldn’t complain as the major was his fatherin-law. His mind awhirl, Will stalked from his mother’s room toward the staircase, anxious to find his brothers… until the sweet scent of lilacs that was uniquely Prissy stopped him at the top of the stairs.
What was she doing here? And so early? He hadn’t even breakfasted yet.
Will took the steps two at a time, noticing Billings at the bottom of the staircase. “Miss Hawthorne’s here?” he asked.
The butler nodded. “She just arrived, my lord.”
Will couldn’t help but smile. She’d come to see him. She must feel the same insatiable need to see him as he felt for her. Morning, noon, and night. When exactly had that happened? “She’s in the green parlor?” he asked, though he could tell that by her scent.
Billings frowned a bit. “Miss Hawthorne has come to see Her Grace, Lord William.” The old butler’s censure hung in the air. Single young ladies couldn’t call on a bachelor, but that wasn’t really the case with them. They’d always been more than that.
“After I speak with her, you may inform the duchess of her guest.”
“But, my lord—”
Will halted the man’s objections with a wave of his hand. “Thank you, Billings. That will be all.” He turned and hurried into the parlor before the butler could regain his voice or train of thought.
Prisca’s back was to him, her dainty hands clutched together, as she studied an old portrait of his mother that hung above the mantel. He cleared his throat and she spun around, an enchanting blush stained her cheeks. Will inhaled sharply at the sight of her. Prissy’s beauty never failed to take his breath away.
“You’re not Lily,” she accused.
Simply seeing her soothed him in so many ways. “Not since the last time I checked.” He shut the parlor door to keep eavesdroppers at bay, although his brothers and Major Forster could listen in if they were of a mind to do so. If they wanted to keep their tails, they’d resist the urge.
Prisca folded her arms across her chest, which only made her décolletage even more appealing. “What do you want, Will?”
“Hmm. What do I want?” He closed the distance between them, wishing she would smile at him like she had the night before. “When I came downstairs, I was anxious for breakfast, but then I realized you were here.” He smiled his most charming smile and grazed her cheekbone with the back of his hand. “Now you’re all I can think about, Prissy.”
Her delicate brow rose indignantly. “Do you think you can smile at me, William, and that I’ll melt at your feet?”
“You nearly melted for me last night,” he quipped. But he immediately wanted to withdraw the words as he saw the storm clouds brewing in her violet eyes.
She turned her back to him and refocused on his mother’s portrait.
“Priss… I’m sorry.”
She glared at him over her shoulder. “I’ll not be one of your conquests, William.”
Is that what she thought? Will shook his head. “I would never—”
“So I don’t think it’s a very good idea for me to be alone with you.”
This wasn’t going at all the way he’d hoped when he’d smelled her lilac scent from the steps. She’d been so soft and pliant against him last night. What could possibly have changed? “Priss, I thought we’d moved past all this—”
She stepped away from his touch, leaving a settee between them. “In fact, I don’t think it’s a good idea to see you at all, in the company of others or not.”
Will’s mouth went dry. What was she saying? Certainly she hadn’t accepted Brimsworth’s offer. His heart constricted at the thought. “What changed between last night and today? When I last saw you, I thought you at least liked me.”
For a moment, he thought her expression softened a bit, but then her jaw tightened and she looked as though she could kill him where he stood. “No, you mistook me for some lightskirt, which was completely my fault, considering my behavior. But I won’t let it ever happen again.”
“A lightskirt?” he whispered in astonishment. How could she think such a thing?
“Do you think I’m daft, William?”
He winced. In his experience, women didn’t ever truly want an answer to that question. “Priss…”
“Do you think I don’t know what you and my brothers get up to at The White Lion or that Madam Millish’s or whatever bawdy house happens to be in fashion at the moment?”
He felt the blood drain from his face, and he didn’t know what to say to that. “I, um…” he stumbled, “I would hope that you didn’t know any of the details.” That was really a poor thing to say, which he knew as soon as Prisca picked up a La Belle Assemblée from the side table and threw it at his head. He caught the periodical in the air. “You needn’t try to decapitate me, love.”
“Don’t ‘love’ me, Will.”
For a moment, he stopped to think about what she’d said. He knew she meant not to use the term of endearment. But he wanted it to be more. “I don’t think I can help myself,” he admitted.
She looked as though she was ready to skewer him with her gaze. “Is that why you decided to spend some time in the cupboard with me, because you can’t help yourself?” She blew the hair from her forehead, as though she was thoroughly frustrated by him. “Why am I not surprised?”
Why was she being so bloody difficult? “If you would stop being a shrew for one second and
listen…”
“A shrew? Tell me you did not call me a shrew.” The toe of her shoe began to thump loudly against the Aubusson rug and Will gulped.
“You always twist my words around.”
“Twist them around? William, you’re the one who said ‘shrew,’ which, by the way, I do not appreciate in the least.”
If she kept talking, he’d never get back in her good graces, if he’d ever been there. “Priss, can you be quiet for just a moment?”
Her eyes narrowed to little shards. “How dare you?”
Perfect. She couldn’t be reasonable. He began to circle the settee she’d put between them. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ So let me be of assistance.”
“Stay where you are,” she warned.
But he paid her no heed. The beast inside him took over, and he leapt over the settee and caught her waist with his hands. “There’s only one way I know to get you to be quiet,” Will said, and then he pulled her flush against him.
Prisca gaped at him. Did he really think to kiss her after she just finished telling him she couldn’t be alone with him, that she wouldn’t play the role of lightskirt for him? She balled up her fist and landed it against his stubborn chin.
Will flinched and then released her. “What the devil…?”
She bolted from the room and darted into the corridor where she collided with Lily. “Heavens!” the duchess gasped as she toppled to the floor. “Prisca!”
Mortified, Prisca held out a hand to Lily and pulled her back to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Lily.”
“Billings just informed me you were here. Are you all right?”
“Of course,” she lied. She didn’t think she’d ever be all right ever again. Simply being in Will’s presence made her mind all a jumble.
“You don’t look all right,” Lily insisted. “Do come into the breakfast room. Elspeth and I were enjoying a spot of tea.”
Prisca shook her head. She didn’t think she could be cordial, and it would be very obvious something had happened, which was the last thing she could ever confess. If she was going to put Will out of her mind, she couldn’t discuss him with anyone, most especially Lily. After all, the duchess was related to the reprobate.
She clutched the locket around her neck and gathered her strength. “I’m such a ninny, Lily. I completely forgot that I was supposed to visit the Giddings sisters today. I’ve been so distracted with Langley Downs nearly overflowing, I ended up here instead. Do forgive me?”
“Of course.” Lily hooked her arm with Prisca’s. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay a while?”
Prisca shook her head. “I have so much to do. I started Lady Elspeth’s gown yesterday, but now Sarah needs my help as well. I’m afraid I don’t have time to spare today.” Hopefully, Lily would never know she’d already sent a note to the Giddings’ begging off for the day. She did hate lying, especially to Lily; but she couldn’t very well tell her that she could not stay at Westfield Hall because it pained her too much to see Will. Lily would smile and try to push them together, and Prisca refused to have her heart broken again. She had to leave. She needed to be alone for a while and sort out her thoughts.
As her carriage was still on the drive, Prisca bounded inside and snuggled under a traveling blanket while she waited for Harris to resume his spot on the perch and drive her home.
Eleven
“I THINK YOU SHOULD RIDE RIGHT OVER THERE. TELL Sir Herbert you compromised her and be done with it,” Ben offered, standing in Will’s doorway.
He glared at his brother from where he lounged on his bed, trying to find a solution to this situation with Prissy. Ben’s presence didn’t help.
“Thank you for respecting my privacy in this matter, Benjamin.”
His younger brother shrugged. “You didn’t exactly make it easy on us. The two of you were practically bellowing at each other. It’s a wonder Lily and Ellie didn’t hear you. What did you do with her in the cupboard last night?”
“Go. To. Hell.”
Ben stepped inside Will’s room and shut the door behind him. “Was it bad enough to compromise her? I mean, since Simon found the two of you, Sir Herbert wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.”
Will glared at his irritating brother. “You should know your advice is in direct opposition to Simon’s.”
Ben snorted. “As if that’s a surprise. Besides, I know Prissy better than he does. It may be the only way to secure her.”
“She hates me, Ben.” He could see it in her eyes as she’d fled from him. He didn’t want to trap her, to give her no choice in the matter.
Ben sighed. “She doesn’t hate you.”
Will scoffed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I have it on the highest authority that she does.”
“You’ll have to take my word for it, Will.”
He’d never taken Ben’s word for anything. His younger brother wasn’t exactly known for his good judgment, even if Ben and Prisca had engaged in years’ worth of exchanged letters. “If I don’t want Simon’s advice, I certainly don’t want yours. Now turn back around and go keep an eye on your fatherin-law.”
“What’s wrong with the major?”
“There’s something going on with him and Mother.”
Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. “Major Forster?”
“Do you have a different fatherin-law?”
Ben laughed. “I wonder if Ellie knows.”
“No idea,” Will said. “Why don’t you go and discuss it with her?”
Someone was about to knock on his door, so both Will and Ben turned expectantly. Then the rap came and Ben pulled the door open.
Simon stood on the threshold. “Will, Emory Hawthorne is in my study.”
“And?” Will asked.
Simon frowned. “He came here looking for Prisca.”
But she’d left hours ago. Will brushed past both brothers and started for the stairs. He bolted down the steps and through the house until he reached Simon’s study. He found Emory pacing the floor.
“You don’t know where she is?” Will asked.
Emory shook his head. “Blackmoor said she was here?”
“She was. But she said she was headed to the Giddings’.”
Emory looked tortured. “She’s not there. That was the first place we looked. I think she’s run off.”
“She wouldn’t,” Will said, though as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew Emory was right. She would only take so much before she’d try to escape it.
But all of her brothers were at Langley Downs. So where would she go?
“We need to find her. If anything happens to her…”
Will grasped Emory’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
“Did she seem upset when she was here?”
Furious. Though Will wasn’t ready to divulge that bit just yet. “She seemed like Prisca,” he hedged.
Emory shook his head in frustration. “I know Harris returned her to Langley Downs safely. But from there, her trail’s gone cold. Her horse is still in the stables. I can’t imagine where she would go. Only my sister would pick up and leave on foot in the middle of December.”
A chill raced down Will’s spine. “What about Brimsworth?”
Emory frowned. “Helping Blaine search the property. Why?”
Will took a deep breath, relieved she wasn’t with the earl. “We can use all the help we can get.”
“I must be the most cursed woman in all of England,” Prisca mumbled to herself as she stopped to remove a clinging spider web from her hair. She shook the sticky string from her hand, disgusted at the very thought of the thing clinging to the top of her head.
What had began as a quick walk to clear her head had become hours and hours of walking in circles. Or at least, she assumed she was walking in circles.
With Brimsworth chasing her skirts all over Langley Downs and Will invading her every thought, she needed a temporary escape. Her mind made up, she’d taken a path from the garden into the f
orest. Although she’d walked the same path hundreds of times when she was younger, it had been years since she’d stepped foot into the thick woods that backed up to the estate.
Just as she’d grown, so had the forest. Nothing looked the same. None of the old landmarks were present. She’d very quickly found herself lost, though she hadn’t realized it at first. Not finding her way home wasn’t a fear initially—it had been early in the day and the sun was shining. Though it was cold, she was nice and warm in her wool coat. But the farther she’d walked, the darker the sky had gotten. There was a nip in the air that hadn’t been present that morning.
Prisca hugged her arms tighter around her body and spun slowly in a circle. She could swear she’d passed that croft of trees at least three times in the last hour. But then, all trees looked the same when what you truly wanted to find was home.
A drop of water landed on her nose. “Oh, perfect. Rain.” Within moments, a slow drizzle began to fall. She picked up her pace. If there was ever a time she needed to find home, this was it.
Yet, she walked. And walked. And walked. And nothing looked familiar. The drizzle turned to a shower that quickly became a chilling downpour. Finally, as the sun sank in the sky and when she could no longer feel her fingers or toes, or her nose, for that matter, she stopped. Surely, if she just stayed in one place, someone would find her. But, then again, she’d thought that hours ago. No one had appeared to ease her torment.
Surely, someone had to know she was gone. Her father would have missed her presence at all three meals, which was uncommon. Her brothers would have noticed she wasn’t around to pester them. And Brimsworth had been shadowing her every move for days. Certainly, he’d realize she was missing.
Prisca picked up her skirts and walked a little faster. “Ah!” she cried when she misstepped, her ankle twisting painfully as she fell to her hands and knees on the drenched forest floor. She rolled to her backside, reaching for the offended ankle and gasped as she tried to flex her foot. A curse word flitted through her mind, though she was too much of a lady to voice it.
Prisca levered herself to a standing position on her good leg and tested her weight. Oh, definitely not. It would not accept any pressure on it at all. Drat!