by Lydia Dare
She'd murder him on the spot, and if she didn't, her brothers would.
It was God's cruel joke that she was only able to be civil to him when he was in his Lycan form. Will heaved a sigh. He needed to get his mind in order if he was going to spend the holidays with his family and see
her
again. Because the next time she saw him, her pretty violet eyes wouldn't be looking at him in wonder but with barely concealed disgust. They'd go back to the relationship they had as man and woman. She didn't like him nearly as much when he wasn't sporting a tail and long teeth.
Of course, he had only himself to blame for that.
If he was smart, he'd turn right back around and return to London. Even as the idea occurred to him, Will knew it wasn't a possibility. It had been a lifetime since he and his brothers had all been together, and so much had happened in that time. Besides, their mother would be heartbroken if he didn't arrive for her holiday festivities. He wouldn't be allowed to leave until well after the New Year.
God have mercy on him. He'd need it when the Hawthornes got word of his arrival. Well, when Prisca got word of his arrival.
Will left the inn and traveled the rest of the way to Westfield Hall in his carriage. Memories spun in his mind as he watched the familiar countryside from the window. Every passing cottage and copse of trees made him think of her. How long did he have to wait before he paid a call on Emory Hawthorne? What was the best time of day to happen upon Prisca? Perhaps the holiday spirit would make her look kindly on him.
Foolish thoughts, all of them. She hadn't looked kindly on him in years, not since their elopement failed. Things would have been so different if she'd met him like she was supposed to all those years ago. But that was the past, and there was no going back.
Will turned his focus to his family. It would be nice to see Benjamin again, and Elspeth. He saw Simon fairly often, but his oldest brother was always in a hurry to return home to his wife. At least for the next few weeks, they'd all be together, almost like old times. Almost.
His brother's baroque manor house came into view, and Will leaned back against the squabs. He closed his eyes, hoping to capture the last bit of peace he was sure to have before he entered Westfield Hall.
The coach rumbled to a stop, and Will threw open the door without waiting for his coachman's assistance. He strode down the path, white rocks crunching under his Hessians, and then bounded up the stone steps. Before he reached the front door, Billings, the old family butler, hauled it open and greeted him with a smile.
"Lord William, it is good to see you again."
Will handed his hat and cane to the man. "Thank you, Billings."
"His Grace and Lord Benjamin are in the duke's study, my lord."
Will inclined his head and then started in the direction of his brother's inner sanctum. Even before he reached the door, he heard Simon berating their younger brother.
"Your allowance doesn't leave room for such indulgences, Benjamin." Simon's voice filtered down the hallway.
"I hardly call the building of my home an indulgence. Besides, I have some investment ideas that should replenish your coffers."
"My coffers are fine," Simon growled. "That's hardly the point."
"I don't need a lecture," Ben complained. "I'm not a boy anymore, Simon."
Will pushed open the door, but both of his brothers were too preoccupied to acknowledge him. His oldest brother, Simon, the Duke of Blackmoor, sat forward, leaning on his desk with a stern look on his face. "Oh, I know you're not a boy anymore. I realized that when you sent word you'd married some lass in Edinburgh. A lass no one has even met until now."
"I've met her," Will replied from the doorway, though he was promptly ignored by both of his brothers.
From his spot across from Simon, Benjamin examined his fingernails. "I know you're unhappy about it—"
"Me?" Simon raised his brow with dark amusement. "I could care less what you do. You're Elspeth's problem now, but Mother was quite offended she wasn't invited. You hurt her terribly."
"In Ben's defense," Will interrupted again, striding into the room, "he didn't have many options at the time. He'd just compromised the girl. Do you think he should have waited for a caravan from London to make things right?"
Simon's grey eyes flashed up to meet Will's. The look the duke wore had intimidated many over the years, but Will wasn't one of them. "I don't recall asking for your opinion, William."
Will laughed, sliding into an overstuffed leather chair next to Ben. "You did the same thing yourself, Simon, with Lily. If Mother hadn't arrived when she did, she would have missed your wedding, too. You're just put out that you had to listen to her complaints."
Simon snorted. "So is that the way of Westfield men, then? We'll only marry by force?"
Will scowled when both Simon and Ben stared at him. He was the only bachelor in the room. "Don't look at me. I'm not planning to ever marry—by force or otherwise." Not when the only woman he truly wanted had closed that option to him.
Simon leaned back in his chair, studying Will with a frown. "What took you so long? You should have been here hours ago."
Will rolled his eyes. "I don't answer to anyone, Simon, not even the formidable Duke of Blackmoor."
"Where were you?" Simon pressed.
The duke was the alpha of their pack, and it was always impossible to dissuade him from his course. Will shrugged. Answering Simon would be easier in the long run.
"Last night was a full moon. Perhaps you noticed. I slept in late today. Please forgive me, Your Grace," he replied drolly.
"Have you seen Mother yet?" Simon leaned back in his seat.
Will shook his head. "You two are the first I've seen."
"Well, go see her, will you? She's been feeling a bit out of sorts. And she's been on pins and needles the last few days."
That didn't make one bit of sense. Their mother was not of the hysterical variety, by any stretch of the imagination. Alice Westfield, the dowager Duchess of Blackmoor, was the picture of grace and charm. Pins and needles didn't describe her.
Obediently, Will rose from his seat. "Of course."
He strode directly down the hallway toward the green sitting room, where his mother generally held court. As Will passed the staircase, he heard a feminine squeal. He turned just in time to catch his fiery-haired sister-in-law, Elspeth, as she hurled herself into his arms. "Will!"
He grinned down at her and kissed her cheek. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"Better after my nap. It's a long journey from Edinburgh. I doona think I'll be ready ta go home anytime soon."
Will winked at her. Halfway through her pregnancy, Elspeth glowed even more than usual.
"William Westfield with a woman in his arms— what a surprise," came a haughty voice from behind him. He suppressed a shudder. He'd hoped the lilac scent that had assaulted his nose and made his mouth water as soon as he stepped through the door was something Lily had taken to wearing. Now he knew better.
Will cringed. It had already started. What he wouldn't give to make her stop hating him. He released Elspeth and turned to find his beautiful tormentor regarding him with distaste. Even furious, she was the loveliest woman in the world.
"Prisca," he said raising his brow. "May I present Lady Elspeth Westfield, Ben's wife."
Her eyes rounded in surprise, which brought him a bit of satisfaction. Will draped his arm around Elspeth's shoulders. "Ellie, this is Miss Hawthorne—the bane of my existence."
"Oh!" Elspeth gasped. "Miss Hawthorne, I have heard so much about ye," she gushed with her charming brogue, her smile focused on Prisca.
Will held his breath. Elspeth, more than anyone, knew what Prisca meant to him. The two of them had engaged in several heartfelt conversations on the subject.
"Indeed?" Prisca asked skeptically.
"Benjamin has told me all about ye. And yer brothers. However did ye survive
five
older brothers? I canna even imagine it."
"It is a punishment I still suffer, especially as all are in residence at the moment." Prisca smiled, brightening the room. "It is very nice to make your acquaintance, Lady Elspeth. You and Lily will have to pay me a visit, and then you can judge that for yourself."
Prisca stepped around Will and started for the front door. His heart lurched. "You're leaving?" he asked, before he could stop himself. Foolish. It was foolish to alert her to the fact that he still cared if she came or went. He cared quite a bit. But it'd be best she not know that.
She looked back over her shoulder at him, her striking violet eyes raking across him. Despite the stiffness of her shoulders, something lurked in the depths. If only he knew what it was.
"I've just finished tea with Lily and your mother." Then she turned her attention back to Elspeth. "Until next time, and do give Ben my best."
***
Prisca barely breathed until she heard Billings close the door firmly behind her. She dared hope someday she would see William Westfield and not react as though her heart would thump right out of her chest.
Seeing a woman in his arms made her think of things best left forgotten. For as long as she could remember, she'd wanted to be the woman tucked close to his heart. At one time, she had been, until she found out what a cad he truly was.
She'd basked in his attention, drunk in his compliments, and happily welcomed him chasing after her skirts. Now he paid no attention to her skirts at all. She tried to tamp down the disappointment that the loss of his affection still caused in her heart. It was foolish to want the impossible.
Hopefully, he'd never know a huge chunk of her heart still belonged to him, despite her best efforts to move on with her life. She thought she hid her feelings well. Each moment they spent together was a series of jabs at one another. It had become a sport between them. A source of entertainment for those who watched. A source of pain for her.
Prisca shook the thoughts of Will away as she stepped through the doorway of her own home. The manor was surprisingly quiet, which was almost unheard of when all five of her brothers were in residence.
Prisca found four of her brothers sequestered in Papa's study, where Pierce reclined in an overstuffed chair with a ledger across his knee, absently making notes. He was nothing if not meticulously organized. Emory called out items for him to write.
"There's the Yule Ball, of course. And her friendship with the duchess. Not to mention the dowager and Benjamin's wife, both of whom are visiting. I believe there will be ample opportunity."
"Opportunity for what?" she asked as she breezed in the door and dropped onto the settee beside Garrick. He smiled softly at her. But he fidgeted as he glanced toward Pierce's ledger. Pierce snapped it closed and tugged it close to his body. How odd.
"Opportunity for you to spend gobs of Papa's money on clothing and other fripperies," Emory replied.
"As though I need an opportunity," Prisca scoffed. "Since when did you become interested in my fripperies?"
"He's more interested in the chit who comes to help you with your sewing, I think," Darius intoned.
Old Eunice? Hardly! What was going on here? Before she could ask, Garrick tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. The others might be up to something, but Garrick would never be a party to it.
"I've never met such self-serving individuals as our brothers, Priss," he said, but a smile threatened to erupt. "It's as though they were all raised in the wild." Prisca laid her head on Garrick's shoulder and sighed deeply. Though unruly, her brothers couldn't truly be called wild.
The clunk of boots in the corridor gained her attention. For a tiny moment, she thought she recognized Will's unhurried gait.
"Oh, it's just you," Prisca grumbled as Blaine rounded the corner.
But then Blaine stepped to the side, and a handsome golden-haired gentleman entered to stand beside him. "I don't think I've ever been greeted quite so enthusiastically," he laughed, his eyes twinkling.
Prisca leapt to her feet. "I'm terribly sorry. I thought it was just Blaine," she mumbled to Garrick, who dropped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
"That's what you get for thinking," Blaine teased.
Prisca shot him a look. Irritating man.
"Everyone, this is Dashiel Thorpe, the Earl of Brimsworth," Blaine continued. "He's a friend of mine from Cambridge. He didn't have any plans, so I invited him to spend the holiday season with us."
He pointed out each brother in turn, all of whom enthusiastically greeted the newcomer. Then Blaine walked up behind Prisca and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"And, this is my sister, Prissy," he said, pushing her forward like one might push a reluctant child.
"My name is actually
Prisca." She smiled at the ear
l before glaring over her shoulder at Blaine, who shrugged and smiled.
Brothers!
They all knew she hated that moniker. It made her sound like a petulant five-year-old. Then Prisca held out a hand to his lordship and nodded. "Welcome to Langley Downs, Lord Brimsworth."
"So nice to meet you, Miss Hawthorne," the handsome earl returned, taking her hand in his and squeezing it lightly. His amber gaze danced with something. Possibly mirth? Of course, he might find the antics of her brothers amusing. However, something else lingered in his brilliant amber depths. Interest, perhaps? She wasn't sure.
Prisca glanced back to find Emory and Darius with their heads tipped closely together. Those two were definitely up to something. What she wouldn't give to find out what they were saying!
"I'll do quite nicely for what?" the earl asked. Had
he
heard them? How was that possible? She hadn't been able to hear a thing. Her brothers sprang apart like children caught plotting against their governess.
Emory coughed into his hand and then said, "I was thinking of a game of piquet later. You'd do quite nicely as a fourth." He shrugged. "If you've an interest, of course."
"I am a horrid card player, but I would love to play. If Miss Hawthorne is joining us, that is."
Prisca suppressed a shiver as his warm eyes met hers. Why did she feel as though she was missing something important?
Three
Will now knew why he hadn't visited either of his brothers in a long while. Neither Simon nor Benjamin had made any attempt to quiet their amorous bedtime activities, and with his Lycan hearing, Will had been unable to block out the sounds. Each moan or gasp throughout the night left him twisting and turning, clutching his bedclothes in tortuous agony.
A man couldn't hear such sounds without wanting a woman beneath him. And this close to Langley Downs, he only wanted Prisca. Of course, he always wanted her, though he tried to ignore it. But since she'd been at Westfield Hall earlier in the day, he could still smell the sweet scent of lilacs that was uniquely hers. God, he wanted her more each time he saw her.
Damned fool! Why did he let such thoughts plague him? He was still pondering that question when Lily and Elspeth sauntered into the morning room like two well-sated women. He grumbled under his breath. Not that he begrudged his brothers their happiness, but the ladies' dreamy expressions made him remember the cries of passion that had kept him awake all night.
"Morning, Will." Lily grinned at him. "I don't recall you being such an early riser."
"I had a hard time sleeping," he mumbled.
Elspeth frowned. "So did the dowager, I'm afraid. Her cough dinna sound good ta me."
Ah, yes. He'd heard his mother coughing through the night as well. Though his brothers and their wives had nearly drowned out that sound.
"She has been a bit under the weather, which is unlike her." Lily slid into a spot across from Will and smiled as a footman poured a cup of coffee for her.
"I'll see what I can do ta relieve her pain today," Elspeth promised. And since she had a healing touch in her fingertips, Will had no doubt his mother would be up and around in no time.
That idea had promise. "Do you have a nice sleeping draught?"
he asked his young sister-in-law. It could certainly come in handy if he was going to remain at The Hall for any period of time.
Elspeth's green eyes flashed to him. "Hmm. Ye do look a wee bit tired."
"A wee bit," he agreed.
"Too tired to accompany us to Langley Downs?" Lily blew into her cup to cool the steaming coffee.
Langley Downs? Will's eyes widened. "You're visiting the Hawthornes?"
The duchess nodded. "Prisca invited us yesterday. Emory sent a note asking you to come along as well."
Will's pulse pounded at the thought of seeing
her
again. He shook his head. Would he never stop being a fool over Prisca? Apparently not, if just the thought of her made his breath catch.