Wolf Next Door

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Wolf Next Door Page 3

by Lydia Dare


  "No?" Lily asked.

  Had he said something? "No?" he echoed.

  "You shook your head. If you don't want to escort us, I can ask Simon; but you know how irritable he is around Prisca."

  Will forced a smile to his face. "I was thinking of something else, Lily. Forgive me. I would hate to put Simon in a foul mood. The rest of us would pay for it the remainder of the day. I'd be happy to see you and Ellie to Langley Downs."

  "What a gentleman to make such a sacrifice." Her hazel eyes twinkled as though she knew his heart's desire.

  "She did seem quite lovely," Elspeth added.

  Meddling sisters-in-law he didn't need, well intentioned or not. It was difficult enough to be around Prisca without worrying what Lily or Elspeth would dream up. "I am going to Langley Downs to see

  Emory

  . It's been an age."

  "Of course." Lily smiled into her coffee cup before taking a dainty sip.

  Will rose from his spot. "Do let me know when you're ready to go." Then he escaped into the corridor before Lily could question him further or Elspeth could cast any more knowing glances at him. He could do without either.

  After spending the morning in his own company, Will ambled into the library. There he found his brother Ben sitting in the far corner, perusing an old tome, which was fairly un-Ben like.

  Will folded his arms across his chest and grinned at his younger brother. "Has Elspeth taught you to read? How industrious of her."

  Ben's eyes shot up, and he closed the book with a thud. "Always so clever, aren't you? I was just waiting to speak with Major Forster, if you must know."

  "Oh? Has he arrived?" Will strode into the room. He shouldn't have been surprised that Elspeth's father was going to join them for the holiday, but the major hadn't mentioned it when Will saw him the prior week in London.

  "This morning," his brother replied. "He's visiting Mother now. I've been listening in all day. They want to persuade me to convince Ellie to move to London."

  Will snorted. "She hates London."

  Ben sighed. "She does. And she needs to be with her coven, but he missed Ellie's childhood, and with the babe on the way, Forster wants a second chance."

  A second chance. "Lucky man. We don't all get those," Will said to himself, but Ben heard it just as clearly if he'd bellowed it.

  A playful smirk lit his brother's face. "Honestly, I don't know what you're waiting for. You should take Prisca to bed and get it over with. You'd both be happier."

  Will gaped at Ben. "I can't believe you would even suggest such a thing."

  "Of course, you can believe it. You dance around each other in the strangest mating ritual I've ever seen. It borders on the bizarre."

  Mating ritual? "She hates me." She always would.

  Ben shook his head. "You might be surprised."

  If only that were true. "If she doesn't despise me, she puts on a rather good show."

  "Both of you truly are the most stubborn pair in all of Hampshire, and that is saying something as Simon's here as well."

  An irritated growl emanated from somewhere deep in the manor, most likely the duke's study.

  "I don't think he appreciated that," Will laughed, dropping into a soft leather chair by the roaring fire.

  Ben shrugged. "I can't help that he doesn't have a sense of humor."

  "You always bait him. No reason to go poking a rabid dog."

  Ben didn't even bother to hide his amusement. "Oh, there's a reason. It's both enormously fun and satisfying."

  A delicate cough from the doorway alerted them to a female intruder in their midst. Will glanced over his shoulder to find Lily glowering at the two of them. Obviously, she'd overheard that last bit. She was as protective of Simon as he was of her.

  Distraction would work best with the duchess, something he'd learned from her nephew. Will rose from his seat and nodded in her direction. "I take it you and Elspeth are ready to venture over to Langley Downs."

  Ben choked on a laugh. "Langley Downs! Good God, the ritual's already begun, has it?"

  "I'm visiting

  Emory

  ," Will growled.

  Ben managed to bring his levity under control, though his eyes still sparkled with mirth. "Of course, you are. Don't know what I was thinking."

  "It's amazing to me that you can think at all." Will grumbled. He brushed past Ben and started toward the duchess. "Your humble servant, Lily."

  She glanced past him at Ben. "Don't antagonize my husband while we're away."

  "Then I'll wait until you return." Ben winked.

  "Benjamin Westfield!" Lily's voice raised an octave, which caused a sudden ringing in Will's ears.

  It must have had the same effect on his brother, because Ben winced and nodded in agreement with feigned contriteness. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

  Which meant absolutely nothing, not that Will would tell Lily that. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her down the corridor. "Where's Elspeth?"

  "Already in the carriage."

  Will soon found himself seated across from his two sisters-in-law, and while they chatted about the wonders of Scotland, he settled his gaze out the ducal carriage window. What if Ben was right? What if Prisca didn't hate him? What if…?

  He'd gone down that road before. Every time he tried to charm her, every time he tried to make things right between them, she rebuked his every effort. Ben had never been right a day in his life. Only pure foolishness tempted Will to put any faith in his younger brother's advice now.

  Before he even realized they'd arrived at Langley Downs, the carriage jolted to a stop. He reached out instinctively and kept Elspeth from tumbling to the floor. "Are you all right, lass?"

  She nodded quickly and dropped her hand to her rounded belly. "We're fine."

  "Blasted Jenkins!" Lily muttered. "Don't know what has been wrong with the man lately."

  A moment later, the door opened and the apologetic coachman poked his head inside. "Very sorry, Your Grace." He reached for Lily's hand.

  "You are fortunate no one was hurt, Jenkins." She frowned at him.

  "It was an accident."

  "And even more fortunate His Grace is not here."

  The coachman blanched. "It won't happen again. I swear it."

  "See that it doesn't." Lily allowed the man to help her from the conveyance, and then he offered his hand to Elspeth.

  Will followed them up the stone steps that led to the pillared entrance of the Hawthornes' residence. Almost instantly, anxiety gripped his heart as he caught the scent of… He sniffed the air again and shook his head. Not possible.

  "Will, what's wrong?" Lily asked.

  "Not a thing," he replied as he feigned a smile. There couldn't be another Lycan here, but it certainly smelled like it. A wild scent hung in the air. Very strange. Perhaps the lack of sleep was wreaking havoc on his senses.

  At that moment, the large wooden door opened and the Hawthorne's ancient butler waved them inside. "Everyone is awaiting you in the yellow parlor, Your Grace."

  Will trailed after Lily and Elspeth and concentrated on the strange scent. The odor only got stronger as they navigated the corridors. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. He was either losing his mind, or another Lycan was most definitely ensconced inside Langley Downs. But why and, more importantly, who?

  Lily entered the yellow parlor, and Elspeth followed her inside. The scent was nearly overpowering. Will stood at the threshold, and from his spot, he scanned the room, overlooking each Hawthorne brother until his eyes landed on Prisca in the corner, seated across from a golden-haired stranger.

  Her tinkling laugh held the man's undivided attention as she scooped a pile of buttons from the center of the card table in front of her. "It is a good thing we're not playing for real money, Miss Hawthorne," the stranger said. Then he shifted his gaze from Prisca to focus on Will, lifting his nose slightly as his eyes narrowed.

  Who was this man, this other Lycan
? Will felt the beast inside him roil and scramble for control when the libertine reached across the table to brush his fingers across Prisca's. Will clutched the doorjamb to steady himself.

  "Will!" Emory Hawthorne rose from the settee, a welcoming smile on his face. "So good of you to come. It has been forever."

  "Indeed!" Pierce Hawthorne pushed himself from the window seat where he was perched. "Haven't seen you since this past summer."

  "Too bad for the lot of you," Lieutenant Darius Hawthorne chimed in, claiming Blaine's bishop with his queen in the process. "I saw Will just last week."

  Will glanced from one Hawthorne brother's face to the next. They all sported the same mischievous twinkle in their eyes. He felt at once as though he was missing something important. "Well, here I am."

  Prisca left her seat and embraced Lily. "I'm so glad you've come." She then squeezed Elspeth's hand. "You too, my lady. It will give us the chance to become better acquainted. It's no secret Benjamin is my favorite Westfield. How fortunate you are to have captured him."

  "It was the other way around," Elspeth muttered quietly.

  "And modest, too!" Prisca gushed, linking arms with both women. "Do let's retire to some place more private."

  Her violet eyes briefly landed on Will, and he held his breath. In that instant, they may as well have been alone. But it lasted only for a moment.

  "William," she said in her haughtiest voice, "you are blocking the doorway."

  "Of course." He stepped aside, allowing her and the others to pass by him and into the corridor.

  He watched them disappear around the corner but felt several pairs of eyes on him. Will turned back to find every Hawthorne brother watching him intently, and Pierce actually bit back a smile. What was

  that

  about?

  Emory gestured to the golden-haired Lycan. "Will, allow me to introduce a friend of Blaine's, Dashiel Thorpe, the Earl of Brimsworth."

  The earl smirked as though he knew a dark secret. "Lord William Westfield. Your reputation most certainly precedes you."

  Will held out a hand to the newcomer, confirming his suspicion that the man was a Lycan when he felt the warmth of Brimsworth's skin through their gloves. Lycans were warmer than the average man, not that most average men realized it.

  "Wonderful to meet you, Brimsworth," Will finally replied.

  "You're not even going to comment on the slight to your reputation?" Blaine asked, his mouth hanging open in mock dismay. "Since the ladies are gone, I'd expected some witty rejoinder."

  "A reputation such as his speaks for itself," Pierce clarified, causing a chuckle to bounce around the room.

  A bored sigh escaped Will's lips. "I've no idea what you're referring to. I'm the epitome of an English gentleman." Then he let a smile he didn't feel break across his face. "An English gentleman with a sordid reputation, it appears."

  Garrick's eyebrows drew together. "What

  have

  you been up to lately, Will?" he asked. The man looked none too happy, though that wasn't uncommon.

  "A little of this, a little of that."

  "A bit vague." Garrick's brow furrowed. Why did the vicar sound so suspicious? It was almost as though he was interviewing Will for some household position.

  Will laughed at the absurdity of it. "Nothing much to tell, Garrick. I spent some time in Scotland this autumn. Ben's lovely wife is from Edinburgh. Beautiful area."

  "Hmm," Garrick nodded. "Both your brothers seem to have accepted the marital noose around the neck without much complaint, haven't they?"

  The unending noises of ecstasy from the night before echoed in Will's mind. "I haven't heard many protests." But he'd heard everything else. He refocused on the earl. If anyone should be answering questions, it was the stranger in their midst.

  "What brings you to Hampshire, Brimsworth?" Will sank into a high-backed chair. He tried to sound as though the earl's response didn't matter. But it did. It mattered a great deal.

  "I'm simply visiting for the holiday. The Hawthornes have been kind enough to allow me to stay for a bit."

  Stay for a bit? In the house with Prisca? The Hawthorne men were mad. But, of course, they had no idea a beast lurked beneath their own roof.

  "Where do you hail from?" Will accepted a glass from Emory and stared down into the amber liquid, though his ears perked up for any sign of discomfort from the earl.

  "Kent, though I've not been home in quite some time." His shoulders visibly stiffened. Had Will found a source of contention for the earl?

  "Where about in Kent?" Will pressed.

  "Eynsford Park, if you must know. Shall I note the direction or provide you the names of my professors at Cambridge who can vouch for my character?"

  Eynsford? As in the powerful Marquess of Eynsford? Most definitely a source of contention. "A bit peevish, Brimsworth?" Will calmly crossed an ankle over his knee, though his hackles rose at the mere tone of the man's voice.

  "Being heir to a marquessate could potentially make one prone to eccentricities, I imagine," Garrick, suddenly the peacemaker, said slowly, coming to stand between the two.

  "Being obscenely wealthy might do that as well." Emory laughed, raising a drink to his lips.

  The Hawthorne brothers must think a great deal of the damned beast to extol his virtues in such a manner, Will thought, and it annoyed him to no end.

  "Dash had great fun playing with Prisca this afternoon," Darius announced. Pierce and Emory exchanged anxious glances.

  Will fought to keep his face neutral. "Is that so?"

  "Lovely girl," Brimsworth said slowly, and Will saw something flicker in the man's gaze.

  Will leaned forward with his elbows upon his knees. "I must tell you… I thought it was bad having just Simon, Ben, and myself in the same household. I can't imagine if two or three more were added to the mix. How do you all stand one another?"

  "Oh, we each have our pursuits," Emory began.

  But Blaine cut him off. "It's not so bad aside from Emory's blustering and Dari's cursing."

  "The cursing has to stop," Garrick grumbled. "As should the late nights at The White Lion."

  Pierce turned toward Will as though sharing a confidence. "Our good vicar doesn't approve of the wenches."

  "Nor the drink," Blaine added as he punched Pierce in the arm conspiratorially.

  "Having drunk with you before, Blaine, I can see just cause for his concern," Will joked. "You fall so heavily into your cups that you eventually lose consciousness. Then we're forced to go from bed to bed searching for you until we finally have to drag you from beneath whichever wench you've holed yourself up with just to bring you home."

  "He nearly put my back out the last time we had to carry him into the house," Emory finished.

  Blaine flopped into a chair with a harrumph. "Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean I have to take this abuse," he grumbled.

  "Better they discuss your lack of virtue than mine," Will replied as he raised his glass to his lips.

  The rapid tip-tap of light footsteps in the corridor caught his attention. Prisca. He could hear that sound and smell her sweet lilac scent. He'd know her even at one thousand paces. Her brothers were oblivious to her approach. But the earl was not. Definitely not. He stood up, tugged at the lapels of his jacket, and said, "If you'll excuse me for a moment."

  Emory nodded absently at him, and Brimsworth slipped out the door.

  The hair on the back of Will's neck rose as he turned his head to hear the sounds from the corridor more clearly. The earl had obviously gone to seek out Prisca. And Will could just imagine why.

  Four

  Prisca hurried down the hallway toward her room so she could retrieve a swatch from one of the many bolts of fabric Pierce had brought her when he returned home. He'd gifted her with several bolts of the exotic cloth, but they were much too heavy and cumbersome for her to carry down the stairs.

  As a successful merchant, Pierce often had an opportunity to visit new and excit
ing places Prisca would never see. Yet she could imagine each and every foreign locale, just from hearing his stories.

  Prisca could already see in her mind how lovely Elspeth would look in the dark hues from the West Indies. And she was fairly certain she could turn the fabric into something the lovely redhead could wear to the Yule Ball, even in her state.

  Prisca rounded the corner on the way back to the staircase, not paying any attention to her surroundings, fully immersed in thoughts of clothing design, and ran straight into an object in her path. Her breath rushed out in one huge gasp as strong arms wrapped around her.

 

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