by Lydia Dare
“Just what is the meaning of that look?” he asked his brother.
Simon smirked, which was rare. “I hear you’ve been a busy man, William.”
A busy man? “I do hate it when you’re cryptic, Simon.”
“Tell me, are you experiencing problems rising to the occasion, where your bride is concerned?”
Will blinked at his older brother. Certainly he didn’t mean that the way it sounded. “Rising to the occasion?” he echoed.
“You’ve always been a lust-driven man, Will. So it’s the only answer that popped to my mind. You’ve made an excellent show of caring for your wife’s needs without indulging a bit for yourself, it sounds like.”
How could Simon possibly know that?
Apparently the mortified look on his face amused Simon even more, because the duke started to chuckle. “Women do talk. I can’t help the fact that I have excellent hearing.”
Will growled.
“Save all that for tomorrow night, little brother,” Simon advised. “But honestly, are you all right? Everything in working order? Or did Brimsworth do permanent damage somehow?”
Not wanting anyone else to overhear the conversation, other than Ben and Oliver who were probably enjoying themselves immensely at his expense, Will stalked into the room and slammed the door shut. Simon’s eyes didn’t even grow round with surprise. He simply shook his head. “Do be careful with that door, old man. It’s not accustomed to such abuse.”
Will snorted. He’d heard Simon slam it on more than one occasion. “So that we’re clear, everything works just fine.” He’d been submerging himself in icy bathwater for days now to keep his lusty side at bay. The moon, almost completely full, was making that rather difficult.
“Well, I am glad to hear it. I truly was concerned about you.”
“No need,” Will grumbled, sliding into one of the overstuffed chairs in front of Simon’s desk.
“Do you mind me asking why you haven’t bedded your wife yet, William?”
Of course, he minded. What went on in his bedroom was none of Simon’s damn business. Not that he could say that to his brother. Since the duke was pack leader, it was always best to show him respect, no matter how grudgingly. “You’re the one who said I should court her.”
Simon’s dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s what you’re doing?”
Will shrugged. He’d never actually courted a woman before, not in the traditional sense. He was probably going about it badly, but he wanted Prisca to know how much he loved her, cherished her. Showing her was better than telling her. “That, and I’d really rather not scare her off at the moment,” he admitted.
“Scare her off?”
“You know what we’re like days before the moonful. She’ll be better able to handle me after I’ve claimed her. Until then, I don’t want to take any chances.”
“So you’ve decided to claim her after all?” Simon sounded pleased.
Will nodded. Prisca loved him, and she accepted the truth about who he was, amazing as that sounded. In his heart, he’d vowed never to let anything stand in his way if she returned his affections.
“Good. You had me worried,” his brother confessed. “Now that Brimsworth is gone, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Will leaned forward in his seat. “Thank you for that, Simon. For sending him away.”
“Thank Major Forster when he returns. When Brimsworth came to ask about a mentor, he stepped up and offered to deliver him to Canis House.”
“You handled that situation beautifully, as you do everything else.”
“Stop trying to change the subject.” His brother smiled. “Have you told her? Does she know what to expect?”
Will winced. “Not the particulars, no.” He wasn’t certain how Prisca would take to the idea of him leaving a permanent mark on her neck. It was a pretty neck.
“Well, you’re running out of time to remedy that, William. Do so before tomorrow night.”
“Is that an order?”
“Does it need to be?”
Will shook his head. He knew Simon was right. He just didn’t relish the conversation he had to have with his wife.
Prisca found her husband reading The Times in the dower house sitting room. At least she thought he was reading. Upon further inspection, she noticed his eyes didn’t move at all; he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
She could stand there and watch him all day. The way his brow creased and his lips twisted up in contemplation. He was mesmerizing.
A moment later, he dropped the paper to his lap and looked at her. The intensity of his gaze startled her, and she gasped. “Will.”
“Priss, come here.” He flipped the paper onto the rug and gestured to his chair.
She crossed the floor to stand before him, and in one fluid movement, he tugged her onto his lap.
“Will,” she giggled as he kissed her neck and his hand slid up her side.
He groaned, and Prisca couldn’t help but grin in response. Seduce him. That’s what Elspeth had suggested. It couldn’t be that difficult. She ran her hands up the fine lawn of his shirt until she reached his collar. Then she stroked her fingers into his hair and reveled in her own power as he shivered beneath her.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispered.
Prisca shifted on his lap until they were nose to nose and she could look deep into Will’s blue eyes. “I love you.”
The corners of his mouth turned up to a grin. “I love you, too.”
It was still marvelous to hear the words trail from his lips. She’d never even dared to hope that she might hear them from him, and she didn’t think she’d ever get enough of them. “Make love to me.”
Every muscle in his body froze, and Prisca couldn’t imagine what she’d said that was wrong.
“I do wish you wouldn’t share what goes on between us with Lily and Elspeth.”
Prisca felt her cheeks begin to burn. Surely her sisters-in-law hadn’t divulged her secrets.
“Simon and Ben have hearing that is equal to mine, love,” he said as though reading her mind.
Thoroughly mortified that his brothers had overheard her conversation, Prisca buried her head against his shoulder and cringed. She should have realized. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I was just looking for advice.”
Will nudged her until she looked at him. “What sort of advice?”
“Well, I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she prayed that he’d leave it at that. She didn’t want to voice her thoughts on the subject while staring into his eyes.
“What you’ve done wrong?” His brow furrowed.
“Never mind,” she said, trying to wriggle off his lap.
But Will tightened his hold on her, making escape impossible. “What do you think you’ve done wrong?” he asked again, his voice filled with confusion.
Prisca sighed and rested her head against his chest. It was easier than looking at him. She swallowed hard as she mustered her courage. “I don’t know how to satisfy you, and now you don’t even attempt to find your pleasure with me… and I’d hoped Lily and Elspeth—”
The low rumble of a chuckle in his chest stopped her words, and she looked up into his handsome face. Amusement laced his features, making his light-blue eyes twinkle.
The lout was laughing at her!
Prisca smacked his chest with her open palm. “It’s hardly a laughing matter.”
Will’s hold softened, and his fingers began to stroke her, tracing circles across her back. “Priss, I’ve left you notes telling you how much I love you. I have given you pleasure at every opportunity—”
“But you don’t take any in return, Will. I know I’m not terribly experienced in these matters, but—”
He cupped her bottom, sending a jolt of need straight through her. “How many times do I have to tell you that you are the only woman I want? You satisfy me like no other.”
She blinked at him. “Then why…?”
His lips brushed her brow, and his hot breath warmed her skin. “Sweetheart, I’m trying to go about this the right way. You know the full moon is tomorrow.”
She nodded.
“And I told you I get lustier as it approaches.”
“I haven’t seen any evidence of that,” she grumbled.
He laughed again. “My skin is nearly shriveled from all the icy baths I’ve suffered through these last few days. Just looking into your pretty eyes makes me want to ravish you.”
“You’re not making any sense, Will.”
The mirth on his face faded away, replaced by a slight frown and tight lips. “I don’t want to hurt you, Prissy. I don’t want to lose control.”
That was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “You would never hurt me.”
“Not intentionally, but it could happen. After I claim you, it won’t be a concern anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
He gently rubbed a hand over her arm until she rested her head against his chest. “On the night of a full moon, a Lycan claims his mate. It binds us to each other in a way a marriage ceremony never could. You’ll be a part of me, and I will be a part of you.”
The idea sent chills racing down her spine. What would it feel like to be even more connected to Will? She smiled against his shirt, imagining it. “That sounds lovely.”
“The beast within us takes over on such nights, Prissy. I don’t want to scare you. I may not seem like myself.”
“You haven’t been much of a beast this week. To be honest, I found you to be much more beastly before we married,” Prisca admitted.
“I’ll show you beastly,” he growled playfully as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Tomorrow night.”
Thirty-Five
WILL SLOWLY AWOKE AS THE SUN STREAMED THROUGH the window. He’d neglected to draw the drapes the night before, preferring to watch the moonlight filter across his sleeping bride. Truly the most wondrous of all sights.
Prisca softly groaned and snuggled against his chest, shielding her eyes from the invading light. He wrapped his arm more securely around her and breathed in her lilac scent, which he’d finally realized was the balm for his tortured soul. Her mere presence never failed to calm the beast within him.
Even still, anticipation for the coming evening began to build inside Will. He’d never claimed a mate before, and the idea of being connected to Prisca for the rest of his days thrilled him beyond compare. It was something that, until recently, he’d never even dared to hope for.
Prisca’s hand trailed up his chest, lighting him on fire, and he bit back a groan. Tonight. He’d claim her tonight. Keeping himself from her the last few days had been a special sort of torture, one he’d never have to endure again.
“Will,” her soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Yes, love?”
“Morning.” She yawned and pushed up on his chest, looking into his eyes.
“Good morning.”
She leaned forward and brushed her soft lips against his jaw. “Haven’t been awake too long, have you?”
He shook his head as his hand roamed up her side. “Just thinking how I love waking up with you in my arms.”
Her violet eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Me, too,” she admitted. Then she bit her bottom lip as though she was going to say something else but thought the better of it. Who knew what went on in that mind of hers?
“What is it, Priss?”
She shook her head. “I was just wondering about tomorrow morning. Do you think this will feel different somehow?”
Will grinned at her. “I was thinking something similar before you woke.”
“Really?”
He tucked her against him and kissed her brow. “I talked to Ben about it, shortly after he claimed Elspeth.”
“And?” she asked anxiously.
Will chuckled. “He said that everything was the same, only better.”
“What is that supposed to mean? It’s not helpful at all.”
“It’s Benjamin… what do you expect?” Will closed his eyes and breathed her in. “Today is going to be the longest day I’ve ever suffered through.”
It was the longest day Prisca had ever suffered through. She’d spent the day with her sisters-in-law, trying to wheedle any information about being claimed from them. To keep the men in the house from overhearing, she’d invited them down to the dower house. Not that such precautions mattered. Neither Lily nor Elspeth were forthcoming with information. They’d both smiled wistfully and said she’d understand soon enough.
But she wanted to understand now.
She couldn’t bring herself to ask Alice either. There were some things one shouldn’t discuss with her mother-in-law, no matter how inquisitive one was.
After needlepoint, pounding out one Vivaldi song after another on the pianoforte, and sending a note to her father, Prisca was quite ready for the day to be over.
She suffered through a very uninteresting dinner at Westfield Hall, during which no one spoke. The duke’s eyes were glued to Lily, while Ben’s gaze never left Elspeth. It was clear everyone else was just as anxious for the full moon as she was, which, in a way, was a comfort. If Elspeth and Lily were eagerly awaiting this night and had been through other full moons with their husbands, there was certainly no reason for Prisca to be worried, was there?
Just as the lemon tortes were placed before them, a raucous noise came from the hallway. It sounded as though a pack of wild animals had somehow gotten loose inside Westfield Hall. Crashes and stomping rang out.
Before Prisca could even gasp, Will, his brothers, and even the young Earl of Maberley all leapt from their chairs.
“What the devil is he doing here?” Blackmoor grumbled.
“Language, Simon,” the dowager duchess reprimanded him.
The duke paid his mother very little attention as he stalked off toward the corridor, Will and Ben flanking him and Oliver following behind. Prisca glanced around the table from Alice to Lily to Elspeth and back again. “What do you think that is?”
The dowager duchess pushed her torte away. “It seems as though Desmond has returned.”
Elspeth nodded. “It does sound like Papa.”
They all appeared so calm, as though it was commonplace for a grown man—a major in Wellington’s army, no less—to destroy everything in his reach. Prisca scoffed. “Aren’t you even the least bit curious?”
Alice shook her head. “I’m certain we’ll know in due time. Besides, when a man is that angry, it’s best to stay out of his path until he’s had a chance to calm down a bit.”
Her appetite gone and her stomach tied up in knots, Prisca pushed her untouched torte to the side.
Elspeth caught her eye from across the table, just as her fiery-haired sister-in-law’s stomach rumbled. “Are ye no’ hungry, Prisca?”
She gestured to one of the footman to remove her torte. “Please give this to Lady Elspeth.”
The Scottish witch’s green eyes widened in surprise. “I couldna possibly—”
“Nonsense,” Prisca muttered, glancing over her shoulder toward the doorway the four men had departed through. “I believe your daughter has a craving for lemon tortes. She might as well enjoy mine.”
“There’s no need to worry, Prisca.” Lily sent her a reassuring smile. “It’s just a full moon. They always behave a bit differently when the moonful is upon us.”
Prisca refocused on her dinner companions and noticed Elspeth and Alice nodding in agreement. “This is normal?” she asked. “Stalking out of the dining room as a rabid group, without a word to the rest of us?”
Lily shrugged. “It’s only one night a month, and the benefits far outweigh the detriments, dear. Trust me.”
Benefits? It was on the tip of her tongue to find out what Lily meant when the young Earl of Maberley rejoined them. Oliver York slumped down into his seat next to his Aunt Lily, his bottom lip jutted out in a pout.
“Why are you sul
king, dear?” the duchess asked her nephew.
He scowled, focusing on the door. “They wouldn’t let me stay. Which doesn’t make a bit of sense, as I can hear it all anyway.”
Prisca focused on the boy, her curiosity piqued. “You can hear what they’re saying?” she whispered.
Oliver nodded. “They’re in an uproar because Major Forster lost Brimsworth.”
Lost Brimsworth? Prisca hadn’t known the major had the earl to begin with. What else didn’t she know? She glanced around at the identical looks of worry on Alice, Lily, and Elspeth’s faces. “Why did he have Lord Brimsworth?”
The Westfield women all exchanged glances with each other, which annoyed Prisca to no end. Did everyone know about this except her?
Oliver winced. “Now I’m in for it.”
“Oliver,” Lily warned.
He looked down at his abandoned dessert. “Too late. He already knows I told you. Right now, he’s threatening to take me back to Harrow tomorrow instead of next week.” He paused a moment. “But now he’s back to barking at the major again.”
“Enough,” his aunt advised softly. “I’d like to keep you the rest of the week. Don’t provoke Simon unnecessarily.”
Well, if she wasn’t going to get any more information from Oliver, Prisca wasn’t going to remain in the dining hall. Her chair legs scraped along the floor as she rose from her place.
“Prisca,” Lily began.
She waved the duchess off. “I have never been afraid of provoking His Grace, unnecessarily or otherwise.” Besides, everyone else seemed to know what was going on. She was a Westfield now, too; they shouldn’t keep things from her.
Prisca left the rest of her husband’s family in her wake as she started down the corridor toward the duke’s study. Loud bursts of anger could be heard right up to the moment she reached the study door. Then the noise suddenly stopped.
Blast them! They could hear her approach. It was quite unfair that they could hear everything in the house and were able to eavesdrop on her conversations yet they worked so diligently to keep her from learning anything useful at all.
The door to the study flew open, and the duke and Ben barreled into the corridor. They both glanced briefly at Prisca before stalking past her in the direction she’d come from. She tiptoed the rest of the way and peeked her head inside the study.