by Lydia Dare
"Oh!" Prisca pushed against his chest. "I need to get back to Lily and Elspeth! They'll think I'm the worst sort of hostess! And I can't blame my tardiness on you."
"No, I don't believe you should. Though I doubt they would be surprised by it."
Five
Prisca bolted down the corridor toward her private parlor, clutching the dark-green-and-blue silk swatch against her chest. If her heart pounded any harder, it would thump right through the muslin of her gown. It wouldn't do for her to be short of breath or for Lily and Lady Elspeth to see her in such a state. She slowed her steps and tried to calm herself.
Had Will actually kissed her?
Prisca's heart soared at the memory. She'd never even dared dream that such an occurrence could happen again. Well, she had dreamt of it, but that was so long ago. She shook her head. It was one thing to lie to others and quite another to lie to herself. In all honesty, she still wanted Will as much as she did when she'd agreed to run away with him all those years ago. She still wanted to be taken in his arms, feel his lips against her bare skin, be the woman he loved…
Prisca laughed at her own foolishness. William Westfield did
not
love her. He never had. For some reason, he felt threatened by Lord Brimsworth, and that was all it was. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Or was it the wrong place at the wrong time? She wasn't quite sure which.
It had taken years to piece her heart back together after learning of his betrayal. She knew now he hadn't fathered that trollop Mary Osgood's child, but he could have. One only had to listen in on her brothers' conversations to know the truth behind that. He was a scoundrel of the highest order.
Which went to show what a fool she was. From her earliest memories, she'd felt as though there was a connection between her and Will, that they belonged to each other. What nonsense. William only belonged to himself and whatever lightskirt happened to be in the vicinity.
Though he
had
promised to forgo his usual entertainments if she accepted his demands, hadn't he? All under the pretense of keeping her safe. That made no sense at all. Will wasn't the sort of man to give up pleasures of the flesh. Not for her. Not for anyone. Besides, he didn't even know the earl. How could he possibly have determined so quickly that Brimsworth was unsafe?
She stopped in front of the door to the private parlor where she'd left her guests and took a deep, calming breath. Hopefully they wouldn't be able to tell that she'd been kissed, and certainly not as thoroughly as she just had.
Prisca closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then bounded through the door with a cheerful exuberance she didn't quite feel. "Sorry it took me so long. What do you think of this?" She offered the swatch to Lady Elspeth.
The pretty Scot ran the silk through her fingers. "Actually, Miss Hawthorne, I do appreciate yer offer, but…"
"My sister-in-law is concerned about attending the Yule Ball in her delicate state."
"I doona want ta embarrass Benjamin's family, and…"
Prisca dropped into a seat across from her guests. "We are not in London, Lady Elspeth. Things are a bit more lax here in Hampshire. Besides, with current fashions, I'm certain no one will even notice you're expecting. And I do have such beautiful designs dancing in my head."
"Prisca is a genius with a needle and thread," Lily gushed. "Just wait."
"And those colors will make you sparkle with radiance," Prisca promised.
Lady Elspeth bit her lower lip. "If ye're certain it'll be all right."
Prisca laughed. "Oh, heavens. I'm always right. Just ask Lily."
The duchess' hazel eyes twinkled. "She is right more often than she's not."
Lady Elspeth nodded. "All right, then."
"Splendid!" Prisca smiled. "It's been forever since I've had such a delightful project."
"Ye're very kind ta offer."
"So, Priss," Lily began, sliding forward on the settee. "Who was the golden Adonis you were playing cards with?"
Interesting. Everyone seemed inordinately curious about the earl. Prisca shrugged. "Lord Brimsworth is a friend of Blaine's. He's a theology scholar at Cambridge."
"I've never heard you mention him before."
"He arrived last night. First time I met him."
"He's quite handsome," Lady Elspeth added.
He was, wasn't he? And she certainly had him to thank for Will's sudden attention. Or to curse for it… it was too soon to tell. "I hadn't noticed."
Lily frowned at her. "I know you better than that, Prisca Hawthorne."
She couldn't help but giggle. "Honestly, Lily, I hadn't given him much thought." But she was thinking about him now, and more importantly, Will's reaction to the man. "He's fairly charming but a bit rough around the edges, if you must know. But then most men are, aren't they?"
"Well, he seemed quite taken with ye," Lady Elspeth said softly.
"But then most men are." Lily echoed Prisca's earlier sentiment.
"What an exaggeration!" Prisca insisted.
"Now who is being modest, Priss?" Lily laughed. "I've never seen a woman receive and turn down as many marriage offers as you, and I haven't lived here all that long."
"I can't help that all the men in Hampshire are exceedingly dull." Except for Will, though he spent very little time outside of London anymore. He rarely entered Hampshire.
"Benjamin said ye refused more offers than he could count."
Prisca fell back against her seat, bubbling over with laughter. "Ben does himself an injustice with such words. I have it from the highest authority, meaning my brother Pierce, that he is quite proficient with his numbers." She shook her head. "Besides, this is all utter nonsense. The secret to my allure, Lady Elspeth, is I have a rather large dowry."
"And Aphrodite's face doesn't hurt either," Lily added.
"Heavens, Lily, I thought you'd finished with
The Iliad
months ago. Adonis and now Aphrodite. What shall you say next?" It was always embarrassing whenever anyone discussed her appearance. There was so much more to someone than outward beauty, but men always seemed to focus on that aspect of her. Rather shallow of them, really.
"Is there no one," Lady Elspeth began, breaking her reverie, "who ye would consider in marriage?"
Prisca shook her head. "Much to my father's and brothers' dismay. I'm afraid I'm a bit difficult and haven't met a man who can handle me yet."
"I'm sure that's not true," Lily insisted.
But it might as well be true. Prisca tilted her head to one side. "I'm not complaining. Men are difficult creatures. How do you put up with Blackmoor? Some days I swear I can hear his bellowing all the way from Westfield Hall."
"He's quite sweet in his own way," Lily defended. Then she exchanged a look with her sister-in-law. "I think the Westfield men have the most redeeming qualities. And they are far from dull."
Lady Elspeth blushed at this pronouncement, and Prisca was certain she was missing some secret only married ladies knew.
***
When Will rejoined the Hawthorne brothers in the yellow parlor, he realized immediately that blasted earl wasn't among their numbers. Blaine and Darius were still playing chess. Garrick sat in a high-backed chair, flipping through a periodical of some sort. Emory and Pierce sat with their heads together whispering, which was maddening. Will could pick up a word here or there, but the hissing sound in between wreaked havoc on his ears.
But where was that skirt-chaser Brimsworth? He most definitely required watching.
Before Will could escape back into the corridor and search for the lost Lycan, Emory spotted him and rose from his seat. "Ah, there you are. Just the man I was hoping to talk to." He crossed the room and clapped Will on the back. "Mind if I run something by you?"
"By all means."
Emory gestured to the empty card table across the room and then proceeded to makes his way toward it. "I'm thinking about a mining investment in County Durham. Pierce thin
ks it's sound."
"Well, if you've got Pierce's opinion, why do you need mine?"
Emory chuckled as he slid into a seat. "It's true… No one knows business better than my brother, but he only sees the numbers on a page, the sort of return one can hope for."
Will frowned. "That's what one usually wants in investments." He took the spot across from his friend.
"Human costs don't generally enter Pierce's mind," Emory confessed. "And I'm concerned about the safety of the miners. It's one thing to read about unfortunate accidents in
The Times
and quite another to be funding the venture. I was hoping you could get me in touch with your friend in Lord Sidmouth's office."
"Albie Granger?"
"The fellow you introduced me to at Madam Millish's."
Will winced. He'd just made that bargain with Prissy, and even though he hadn't been to Madam Millish's in ages, he'd rather not have the place mentioned. He quickly glanced around the room. Thank God, there was no sign of her.
"What is wrong?"
Will shook his head. "You don't have to go around bandying Madam Millish's name about."
Emory broke into laughter. "Who do you think is going to hear it, Will?" He gestured around the room to his brothers. "Each of us has been there or someplace similar with you at one time or another—well, except for Garrick. I don't think you'll be upsetting anyone's sensibilities."
"Lily or Elspeth could have overheard you," he complained. Or Prisca. He didn't need anyone planting such images in her mind right now.
"I don't think they'd be surprised to hear it either." Emory smiled. "But I'll refrain from mentioning all the places where you indulge in debauchery if it'll make you more comfortable."
Will squirmed in his seat. "Wonderful. Can you stop mentioning them now, then?"
Emory laughed again. "Are you feeling all right? You don't seem like yourself at all."
"I'm fine," he ground out. "Just didn't get a lot of sleep last night. My brothers' faults, I assure you."
His friend leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet out in front of him. "Brothers are easy, Will. It's sisters who are the chore. I thank God I only have one of those. But I do have a plan for that one, and it should make my life easier in the coming months."
Meaning what exactly? "A plan for Prisca?" He tried to sound nonchalant.
Emory's eyes twinkled, and a roguish grin played about his mouth. "It's well past time she got married and became someone else's problem."
"Well past?" Will scoffed. "She's barely out of the schoolroom."
"She's nineteen, Will. She'll be twenty this spring. She's refused every offer that's come her way, but not any longer." He leaned in conspiratorially. "And I've got just the man in mind for the position."
Will gulped. He wasn't sure if he was more afraid to hear his own name or someone else's. "Who?" he squeaked out.
"Brimsworth, of course." Emory shrugged. "He does seem quite enchanted by her, doesn't he?"
"He can un-enchant himself," Will grumbled beneath his breath.
"Beg your pardon?" Emory eyed him suspiciously.
"I said, how much do you know about him?" Are you aware he sprouts fangs and a tail under a full moon? That he has an uncaged beast residing right beneath his surface?
"Just what Blaine says. The man seems like an allright sort."
"I'd think you'd want to know a hell of a lot more than what Blaine says," Will barked. "Have you looked into his past? His finances? What are his parents like? Does he have a history of beating small animals? Or—"
"Beating small animals?" Emory chuckled. "Heavens, you must have formed a very different opinion of the man than I have."
What an understatement. "I just don't think you can be too careful. She
is
your only sister. You don't want her shackled for life to some man you know nothing about." Will scrubbed a hand across his face. How had things gotten to this state? How could his friend force Prisca into the arms of some stranger? A dangerous one at that.
"True," Emory agreed. "But she doesn't have an interest in any of the men locally. She's too outspoken for the men in London. You should have seen the scene she caused at Lady Parkridge's soiree last season. On second thought, I'm glad you didn't see it. Bloody nightmare."
No, but he'd heard about it. Some foxed lordling had tried to coax her out onto the balcony, and she'd crashed her fist into his jaw, dropping him like a wet rug. Will actually loved that about her. The man had had it coming, in his opinion. Still, he didn't think she could hold her own against Brimsworth. There was something wild about the earl, and he couldn't see her saddled with him. Honestly, he didn't want to see her saddled with anyone. Not when he…
Will shook the thought from his mind. She'd let him kiss her and hold her, but she'd never settle for him.
At that moment, Darius approached their table. "Bloody nightmare?" he echoed. "Are you complaining about tomorrow evening again?"
"What's tomorrow evening?" Will asked.
Emory scowled. "Prissy has invited the entire Giddings' brood to join us for dinner and parlor games."
Darius winked. "Our little matchmaker is under the impression that Lizzie Giddings has set her cap for Emory."
Will choked on a laugh. "Lizzie Giddings? Isn't she the one who snorts when she laughs?"
Emory shook his head, a sour expression on his face. "That's
Sarah
Giddings, though she'll be in attendance as well. Lizzie is the one who wheezes when she breathes."
Ah, yes. Will remembered the chit now. "Lucky fellow. Set her cap for you, has she?"
Emory's glare darkened. "You can go straight to hell."
Will couldn't help but chortle. "You are in trouble, my friend. If Prisca has her mind set on something, she always gets it."
Something flashed in Emory's eyes. "I'm well aware of that. Why don't you join us tomorrow and keep her distracted? Help me out a bit, will you?"
Which would allow him to keep an eye on Prisca and Brimsworth. Will cocked his head to one side as though he was considering the possibility. Then he shrugged. "Why not? It sounds enormously amusing. Word of advice, however."
"Please." Emory rubbed his brow. "The whole idea makes my head hurt."
"Don't go anywhere alone with the Giddings chit. Prissy successfully got Simon leg-shackled to Lily when she put her mind to it. He's better for it, but he was wholly opposed to the idea in the beginning."
His old friend snorted. "That's why you'll be there to keep Prissy's Machiavellian mind off me." He sighed. "And I'll be sure to have a brother on either side of me all night."
If Emory thought that would stop his sister from dreaming up some scheme, Will was certain he was mistaken. What an entertaining way to spend an evening and keep an eye on Prisca at the same time.
Six
Will stalked into Westfield Hall with a single-minded purpose. "Have you seen my brothers?" he barked at the aging butler. "Quickly, man," he urged as Billings took his coat.
"In His Grace's study, my lord," he finally replied.
"Thank you," Will clipped out as he started down the corridor.
"We'll forgive your lack of manners this time, Will," Lily called to his retreating back.
Will winced as he realized he'd barely helped them alight from the coach, much less escorted them inside. He'd make it up to them later.
"Miss Hawthorne has a way of rattling his cage, does she no'?" he heard Elspeth remark quietly. "I've never seen him so out of sorts."
"That's because you'd never seen him with Prisca," Lily said, her words nearly concealed behind a giggle. Nearly, but not quite. Fine. It was just dandy that they all knew how he felt about her. At that moment, he didn't particularly care.
Will stomped into Simon's study without knocking and crossed the room quickly.
Simon jumped to his feet. "What is it?" he asked. But then he covered his nose with his hand and scrunched up his face. "Have you been
rolling around with Emory's hounds?"
"What?" Will sputtered. How could Simon discuss hounds when so much more needed to be said? There was a strange Lycan about, for God's sake.
Ben got to his feet as well and leaned close to sniff him. Will growled low in his throat. "That's not a smell I know." Then Ben's eyes glimmered with mirth. "The lilacs, I can place. But not the hound."
"Lycan," Will clarified. Then he dropped into a seat across from his brother's desk and waited for them to speak.
"You say
Lycan
like it's an expletive, all of a sudden," Simon remarked. "And I hope you weren't dallying with Miss Hawthorne