by Lydia Dare
Will caught her arm and spun her around. "Priss, I'm telling you the truth." He took a deep breath. Then the words started to flow. "Elspeth
is a witch. She is one o
f five from a powerful coven in Scotland. Her particular talent is healing. She can do so using her touch. But she also uses herbs and potions to do other things."
"And so, she wanted to heal Alice?" Prisca asked, not believing one word out of his mouth.
He nodded.
"Then why is Ben so angry?" Honestly, did he expect her to believe all this drivel?
Will's face twisted miserably. "Well, the last time Elspeth healed someone, it drained her to the point that she nearly died. Ben won't let her take that chance again. Not that I blame him."
Her husband was either quite deranged or a terrible liar. Prisca had a very good idea which it was. He'd lied to her about her own innocence, hadn't he? She wasn't going to stay here and let him make a fool of her. She yanked her arm from his grasp and started for the door.
"Now, where are you going?" Will asked. "We have things to discuss, Prisca."
She'd not discuss one more blasted thing with him until he stopped spinning these tales. "I need some time alone."
"Priss," he complained.
But she ignored the plea in his voice. "More things to discuss? Like perhaps the existence of trolls or faeries? I'd rather not."
"I'm telling you the truth," he said solemnly, which truly annoyed her.
He sounded so honest, so sincere—about witches, for heaven's sake. How could she ever believe a word that came out of his mouth?
"Indeed?" she asked, narrowing her eyes on him. "Do tell me, William, are there any other secrets I
? Anything else I unknowingly took on when I became a Westfield?"
He shook his head tightly.
"Good," she replied. "Because I don't know how much more I could take." Then she breezed out the door.
Twenty-Two
Will scrubbed his hands over his face. His wife hadn't exactly been accepting of the "witch" news. He certainly couldn't tell her she'd married a Lycan. At least not yet. He'd hoped since she already loved his wolf self, he could be honest with her about who he was. However, after that reaction, it obviously wasn't the smartest idea.
Now he understood why Simon had wanted to keep the secret from Lily. Not that he'd kept it hidden for long. Will hoped his luck would hold out better than his brother's had.
He started for the door but found Ben blocking his path, with a dangerous expression that would have made a lesser man squirm. "I ought to tear your head off."
"Merry Christmas to you, too." Will nodded with indifference.
Ben stalked forward. "How could you tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
His brother's hazel eyes darkened even more. "Not that long ago, William, people were hunting witches and killing them. Ellie's secret is just as important as ours."
"Oh." Will cringed. He hadn't meant any harm. Prissy was family now, and if she knew some of their dynamics… "I just thought—"
"You weren't thinking at all," Ben growled. "What you tell Prisca about yourself is one thing but keep my wife and child out of it, will you?"
"Ben, you know she adores you. She would never hurt you or Elspeth."
Ben folded his arms across his chest, not giving an inch. "After you tell her what
you
are, and if she doesn't run screaming back to Langley Downs, you can tell her about the rest of us."
"Apologies." Will raked a hand through his hair. "Perhaps I wasn't thinking clearly."
"How did it go last night?"
If any other man had asked how his wedding night had gone, Will would have punched him right in the face. But Ben knew the truth of her innocence. "She made me sleep in the guest room."
Ben winced. "Told her the truth?"
"What choice did I have?"
His brother sighed. "You have made a mess of things, Will."
As though he needed to be reminded of that fact. "Thank you for stating the obvious." Will dropped onto the settee and stared at his younger brother. Ben looked positively tortured. "What about you? I picked up a word or two Elspeth hurled your way. They didn't sound of the adoring variety."
Ben walked toward the window and gazed out at the cloudless day. "You don't think I'm awful for not allowing it, do you? She's our mother, but Ellie…"
Will had seen the anguish his brother had gone through when Elspeth had nearly died after healing Ben a few months earlier. No man should have to endure such a thing. Still, their mother was in a precarious position. "It's not my decision."
Ben scoffed. "Whatever happened to my older brother who always told me what to do?"
"Simon's probably in his study." Will hoped to lighten the mood.
"No, he always ordered me around, while you simply told me what to do."
"I've got my own set of problems now, and I don't think I can answer this for you."
"Damn! I had hoped you'd relieve me of this torment." Ben spun from his spot to meet Will's eyes.
Will leaned back in his seat, studying his younger brother. He wished he could take the torment away, but it wasn't his place. "What does Elspeth say? Certainly she wouldn't put the child at risk."
Ben shook his head. "She can't help wanting to fix anyone and everyone who crosses her path. But even she doesn't know how it would affect an unborn child." He began to pace the floor, as though he was uncomfortable in his own skin. "I can't lose her again, Will. You saw what I was like before."
"You're not going to lose her," Will replied, hoping to give his brother some comfort.
"I'm a selfish dog! I mean, this is our mother we're talking about. How can I not allow Ellie to help her?"
"Does she
have
to touch her? Couldn't a potion or spell do the trick?"
Ben shook his head. "She's been drinking that tonic. Ellie made it, and we told Mother it was from Doctor Bramber, but it hasn't done a damn bit of good."
A cough from above emphasized the point. Knowing their mother languished in pain tore at Will's heart. "Isn't there another way? Some safe way for Elspeth…"
Ben heaved a sigh. "How could it be safe?"
What an awful predicament. Will sat forward in his seat. "Whatever you decide, Ben, Simon and I will support you."
A strangled laugh escaped Ben. "I must be bad off. I don't think you've ever said that to me before."
***
A witch! He must think her the simplest of simpletons to believe such drivel! Prisca stomped all the way back to the dower house. How enlightening to know Will thought so highly of her intelligence. A witch, indeed.
Elspeth would be mortified if she knew what he'd said about her. It would serve Will right for Prisca to tell her. He shouldn't go about maligning innocent ladies' names without fear of retribution.
"I understand felicitations are in order," a voice called from behind her.
Prisca stopped as dread crept up her spine. She looked over her shoulder and found Lord Brimsworth regarding her from the edge of the woods. He looked as handsome as ever with the sun beaming down on his golden hair. "My lord, what a surprise. I thought you'd returned to London."
He left his spot near the trees and closed the distance between them. "I wanted to ensure you were safe before I left these parts."
"Safe?" she echoed with a shake of her head.
"Westfield doesn't exactly have the most pristine of reputations, my dear. I wanted to make sure he didn't run out on you at the last moment." He moved to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear, but she dodged his hand.
The look on his face sent uneasy chills down her spine. "And if he had, what would you have done?" she asked tartly.
"I would have taken his place, as I originally intended." He flashed a radiant smile. "My fondest wish is for your happiness, my lady."
There was something in the way he spoke his words that made her shiver. Perhaps Will had been right about him a
ll along. His eyes had a feral look to them, and she found herself quite uncomfortable in his presence. Ready to be rid of the earl, she resumed her walk to the dower house. "As all is fine, will you be returning to London now?"
He kept his steps even with hers. "In due time. So, if you have need of me, you have only to ask."
"Thank you," she replied, knowing full well she'd never ask him for a thing. She had the Westfields and her own idiotic brothers to go to, if she was of the mind. The Earl of Brimsworth should move on with his life. "Though I'm certain that's not at all necessary."
He grabbed her arm, halting her. "Don't be so certain. As I said, Westfield's reputation leaves much to be desired. Your brothers handed you over to him on a silver platter. You have only to ask for my assistance, and I will hasten to your side."
Prisca wrenched her arm from him and pasted on a fraudulent smile. "I do appreciate that, my lord. Now if you'll excuse me, I am awaiting my husband."
"Heaven forbid I keep you then," he replied with a charming smile.
Prisca said farewell and then briskly made her way to the dower house, her heart thumping loudly the entire way. Once she reached her destination, she threw open the door and tried to catch her breath. Something told her she'd narrowly made an escape.
***
Will followed Prisca's scent back to the dower house, walking slowly, his hands in his pockets as he kicked a stone in his path. They had important things to discuss, and she couldn't avoid him forever. She'd definitely been this way, because her scent was strong. But then another scent joined with hers. Will stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air.
Brimsworth!
Damn! He'd been certain the man had left the area. Will ran toward the dower house as fast as any Lycan possibly could. He barreled through the door without even waiting for the footman to open it.
"Prisca!" he called. There was no answer. But he could hear her humming from the master chambers. "Prisca!" he called again as he walked in that direction.
She met him in the hallway, her cheeks rosy red and her hair loose about her shoulders. He grimaced as he smelled the earl on her person.
"What were you doing with Brimsworth?" he barked.
Prisca took a step back and covered her chest with one hand. "I beg your pardon?"
"Brimsworth, Prisca." His heart pounded impatiently. "Why were you with him?" Will caught her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. The wild Lycan's scent was strongest on her forearm. "Did he touch you?"
She tugged her arm from his grasp. "How dare you ask me something like that?" she replied waspishly.
"I can smell him on you," Will growled.
Her violet eyes grew round. "Oh, that's ridiculous," she said as she pranced around him. "You must have spotted him from the manor and decided to behave boorishly."
"So you do admit to seeing him?"
Prisca folded her arms across her chest. "I didn't realize I was on trial."
She was driving him insane. "Prisca, what did he want?"
She lost some of her ire when she heard that question. Her eyebrows drew together. "It was terribly odd, Will."
He held back the growl that lingered in his throat.
"He wanted to tell me he would be around if I ever needed him."
"And do you?" Will asked sharply, realizing how it sounded as soon as the words fell from his mouth.
"Why on earth would I need Lord Brimsworth?" she countered, rolling her eyes. "Have you gone daft since we last talked? First
witches
and now you think you can
smell
a man on me?"
He probably did sound mad. Will shook his head. "His shaving lotion is an awful citrus concoction. I could smell him a mile away." That wasn't a complete lie.
Prisca wrinkled up her nose at him, as though trying to sort him out. She'd need more than luck for that. "What
is
wrong with you, William?"
"I just don't want Brimsworth sniffing around your skirts. You're my wife and I…"
"You're still jealous."
Will's mouth fell open. He'd never been accused of such a thing before. "I am not. I'm worried about your safety."
A knowing grin spread across her face as she brushed past him on her way to the stairs. "You'll have to do better than that. I can take care of myself. I was doing so before you popped back into my life."
Will followed her down the corridor. "No, Emory was looking out for you."
Prisca whirled around to face him. "Don't mention him or any of the others to me."
Will frowned at her. Prisca had always been close to her family, tagging along after one brother or another for most of her life. "Why not?"
She tipped her head back to meet his eyes. "Because they plotted against me. They didn't think I knew my own mind and decided you were the man for me, regardless of what I wanted."
The air whooshed out of Will's lungs. "Maybe I am the man for you."
She snorted.
Not quite the answer he was hoping for. "They just wanted what was best for you, Priss."
"Meaning you?"
He grinned despite himself. "I am highly thought of in most parts."
She rolled her eyes and started back for her chambers, and Will followed in her wake.
"You can't stay angry with them forever. You know they love you, and your father does, too."
At that, she spun on her heel and folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him. "Yes, let's not forget my father who thinks I'm a common trollop, thanks to you."
Will almost swallowed his tongue. He didn't know she even knew that word. "He does not think you're a trollop."
"He just handed me over to you without taking my wishes under consideration."
"I'm certain he considered everything," he said, gently touching her cheek.
"Yes, your
lies." She glowered at him. "What wer
e you thinking, insinuating that I could be carrying your child?"
"Well, we could make that a reality," he replied, unable to keep the grin from his face. "Tell me you're not really unhappy that you've married me, Prisca? I think we fit together rather nicely."
She turned her back on him and walked toward one of the windows. "I never wanted this, Will."
His heart sank. "Well, I am sorry things didn't turn out the way you wanted, then. I'll leave you to your solitude so you can lick your wounds in peace. Perhaps someone else will enjoy my company."
When she didn't reply but simply leaned her head against the pane of glass, Will turned on his heel. He wasn't going to stand around and watch her mope about being his wife. Perhaps they both needed a little time.
***
Prisca waited until Will was gone before she turned away from the window and swiped at the silent tears that streamed down her face. Men didn't know how to handle tears. She'd learned that at an early age when all of her big, strong brothers would stand around gaping if she cried in front of them. They always had a helpless look about them, and she didn't want to see that expression on Will's face.
She didn't want him to know she ever shed any tears over him. That would be terribly humiliating.
But the truth was she hadn't wanted any of this, not the way it turned out anyhow. She'd always wanted Will to love her and to want her. She'd wanted him to court her and to go about things properly.
She wanted him to come willingly to her, to care for her enough to do so. She hated that their marriage was based on lies.
Twenty-Three
Prisca was fairly pleased with the appearance of her sisters-in-law. Lily, always so pretty and statuesque, was more radiant than ever in the new red-silk gown Prisca had helped her order from Madam Grenier earlier in the month. Her auburn locks were pulled back, and her hazel eyes sparkled.
And anyone would be hard pressed to find a lovelier matron than Elspeth, even with her rounded belly. Her dark emerald dress matched her eyes exactly, and her fiery curls framed her face and were
adorned with tiny white flowers.
Prisca looked down at her own icy blue gown with a shimmery overdress and wondered if her husband planned on making an appearance that evening. He was the one who'd said they would announce their nuptials at the Yule Ball, but after he'd left her that afternoon, he hadn't deigned to grace her again with his presence.
"I am surprised you didn't wear your widow's weeds again," Lily said beneath her breath as they departed the duchess' quarters.