The Wolf Next Door

by Lydia Dare

  ———

  Will heard his brothers’ approach long before they entered the dower house. Once they were in the parlor, he could hear Simon grumbling, though he couldn’t make out any words aside from his own name.

  Upon further reflection, asking Prisca’s father to hit him in the middle of the assembly room might not have been the best idea. Hopefully, the event wouldn’t mar Prissy’s name. He was still amused over her set-down of Mrs. Bostic. His wife was a formidable woman, though he’d always known that. It was one of the things he loved about her.

  He took one of her ebony curls and brushed it against his cheek. She smelled delightful, like holly berries, lilacs, and Prisca all rolled into one.

  He heard something crash to the floor in the parlor and cursed under his breath. With those two buffoons below, they’d wake Prissy for sure. If he could get rid of them, he could come back to bed and properly ravish his wife, if she was willing.

  Will slid from bed and threw on a robe he knotted around his waist.

  As he reached for the door, Prisca’s voice stopped him. “Will?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the most beautiful sight ever. Prisca’s dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, barely concealing the outline of her breasts. He groaned. “Don’t go anywhere, love. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” she persisted, sliding her legs over the side of the bed.

  “To get rid of some unwanted guests. Get back in bed.”

  Of course, she didn’t listen to him. She never listened to him. Prisca padded across the floor to him and stood on her tiptoes to press her soft lips to his throat.

  His mouth went dry. It took all the self-control Will had not to scoop her up in his arms and make love to her right then and there. But his brothers, his infuriating brothers, were right below them. “Priss,” he growled. “You’re making this very difficult for me.”

  “Oh? I don’t mean to make it hard.” If she only knew how hard.

  “You always make it hard. Now get back into bed so I can properly ravish you as soon as I dispense with Simon and Ben.”

  “Ravish me?” Her voice was husky with sleep. She touched her lips to his chest. “I think I would like that.”

  It would take all of three seconds to send his brothers sprawling across the lawn. “On my honor.”

  She giggled as she scrambled back toward the bed. “And I had no idea you had any.”

  Will scrubbed a hand over his face to block out the tempting view of his wife’s backside. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Then he escaped from the room and down the steps. He didn’t even spare a glance for the surprised footman who jumped out of his way. Will threw open the doors to the parlor.

  Simon reclined in an oversized chair and Ben sat on the settee, his elbows resting on his knees, holding his head in his hands. “Out. Both of you,” Will ordered.

  It wasn’t until Simon rose from his spot that Will realized how awful his older brother looked. The duke’s hair was unkempt, and it appeared as though he’d slept in his clothes the night before. “Will, we’re sorry to come by so early—”

  “Well, there’s an easy solution to that. You and Ben can come back another time.” He gestured toward the corridor.

  “Will, Mother—” Ben began, lifting his head just a bit.

  “I’ll be along to visit her soon. In the meantime, do show yourselves out.” Honestly, couldn’t this wait? He finally had Prissy where he wanted her.

  “William!” Simon barked, his grey eyes flashing dangerously. “Kindly close your bloody mouth.”

  Stunned, Will did so, clamping his lips tightly.

  “Mother is worse,” Ben said from the settee as he tightened his hand to a fist.

  Will walked into the parlor and sat in a seat in the corner. “Worse?”

  “Since last night.” Ben winced. “The tonic Elspeth made isn’t strong enough. She needs something from her stores in Edinburgh. Epipactis youngiana.”

  Edinburgh? “I beg your pardon.”

  “Ellie says it’s the only ingredient that’ll make the tonic more potent.”

  “Did you say Edinburgh?” It would take forever to get there and back.

  “Unfortunately,” Simon began slowly, as though he barely believed this situation himself. “The plant is extinct.”

  “Then how can it be in bloody Scotland?” Will barked, feeling completely helpless.

  “Apparently, Ellie’s mother had seeds from the particular plant. And with one touch, Sorcha can make them grow,” Ben hastened to explain. “Ellie says the healing properties are nearly as strong as her touch.”

  “So, we just need to go to Scotland, get the littlest witch to touch some seeds and make them grow, and then bring the plant back to Elspeth?” Will raked a hand through his hair.

  “I hate to ask you to go, Will,” Simon began.

  “I can’t leave Ellie,” Ben explained. “And Sorcha’s never met Simon, but she knows you.”

  Will was on his feet in an instant. “We’re sure these seeds exist?”

  “As sure as we are Lycans exist,” Ben muttered.

  “Fine,” Will started for the door. “I’ll leave now. How do I know what to get?”

  Ben unfolded a piece of foolscap. “Ellie wrote it down for you. Show it to Sorcha, and she’ll know what to do.”

  “I’m sorry, Will,” Simon said from across the room. “I wanted to send the major, but Mother won’t let him leave her bedside. I had no idea they were so close.”

  “It’s no bother,” Will assured the duke, while he exchanged a look with Ben.

  ———

  There were more witches? Prisca wondered from her spot on the staircase. Of course, Will had said there was a coven. Still, she hardly believed her ears. First witches, and now they could grow healing plants with the touch of their fingers? After all her years beside the Westfields, how did she not know they were all insane?

  She heard Will start for the corridor and hastened back up the stairs. If Alice wasn’t sick, she’d give Will her best impression of the Spanish Inquisition but, as it was, she’d rather he not catch her eavesdropping. She rushed back into their chambers and slid beneath the counterpane moments before he entered the room.

  “You said you’d be right back,” she reminded him, hoping her cheeks weren’t red from bolting up the stairs, and that he wouldn’t know she’d overheard his conversation with his brothers.

  Will’s gaze lingered on her only a moment before he went for wardrobe. “Sorry, Priss. I know you were listening at the stairs.” He shot her a pointed glance. Heat crept up her face. “I have a lot to explain. And I will when I return. I have to run an errand for Simon. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He looked back over his shoulder at her. “I am going to Scotland. You’re staying here. Though it might be a good idea for you to move into The Hall while I’m gone.”

  Why couldn’t she go to Scotland with him? She wouldn’t be in the way. They were just now starting to rub along well together. “What does it matter where I am?” she muttered.

  Will turned to face her. “I’m not going for a leisurely jaunt, Prisca. You wouldn’t want to go. Besides, you’re needed here.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because Mother adores you. Embellish to your heart’s content. Just stay with her for me, Prissy, until I return.”

  The emotion she saw in his eyes made a lump form in her throat. All Prisca could do was nod.

  Will turned away from her and let his robe drop to the floor as he retrieved a fresh pair of trousers. Her eyes landed on the crescent moon mark and she wondered again what it was about the blemish that called out to her. She’d obviously spent too much time with the wacky Westfields. If she wasn’t careful she’d be as mad as the lot of them.

  ———

  After bathing and dressing, Prisca trekked up the path to Westfield Hall. Billings ushered her inside, and she quickly
found her way to Alice Westfield’s bedside. The dowager, now so frail and thin, didn’t even look like herself.

  She was sleeping, and Major Forster sat diligently at her bedside. If his love and devotion could have healed Alice, she would be up and about, spinning with joy. But love didn’t have that sort of power.

  Prisca stepped forward and caught the major’s attention. “Can I sit with her a while?”

  “Of course, m’dear.” A moment later, the old officer left the two of them alone.

  Prisca sat in the seat he’d vacated and leaned forward, placing her hands on the warm counterpane. She wasn’t certain how long she sat sentry over the woman, but she did notice when the sun started to dip in the sky.

  Alice’s light eyes slowly opened, and a smile lit her lips when she saw Prisca. “My dear girl,” she rasped. “I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me waste away.”

  Prisca choked on a sob. She shook her head, hoping to lighten the mood. “What could possibly be more interesting at Westfield Hall? Blackmoor is probably barking orders at poor Billings and scowling at anyone who passes him by. Benjamin can’t help staring moon-eyed at Elspeth from sun-up to sundown, which is a bit revolting, I must tell you.

  “And Lily is catching up with Oliver, listening to all the sordid details of one schoolboy prank after another.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “As always, you are by far the best conversationalist to be found on the premises and the only sane Westfield of the lot.”

  Alice laughed, which caused a fit of coughs.

  Prisca handed the dowager a handkerchief and silently berated herself for causing the woman any undue pain. “I’m so sorry.”

  Alice clutched her hands and smiled. “You have nothing to apologize for, Prisca. But you didn’t mention William. What inane activity is my middle son participating in at the moment?”

  Riding to Scotland to retrieve a magical plant to save your life. She didn’t even consider telling her the truth. “He’s out on an errand for Blackmoor.”

  “You are good for him.” She released her grasp on Prisca’s hand. “So good for him,” she repeated as her eyes seemed to glaze over. “Don’t let him hide from you. Make him show you who he really is.”

  Who he really is? She nearly snorted. “Oh, I know who he really is, Alice. Never fear about that.”

  The dowager closed her eyes, her smile dimmed a bit. “I’m glad he told you. But don’t worry, dear. They’re not nearly as frightening as they think they are. Majestic creatures in the moonlight. The way God made them. Shiny coat and…” her words fell off as she drifted back to sleep.

  Prisca gaped at her mother-in-law. Shiny coat? Majestic creatures in the moonlight? Apparently, Alice was as mad as the rest of Westfields. That or her illness had made her delusional.

  When the major resumed his spot by Alice’s bedside, Prisca left them alone and descended the steps in search of the others. She stepped into the green parlor, and the portrait of Alice in her earlier years immediately caught her attention.

  “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” Benjamin asked from behind her.

  Prisca wiped away a tear from her cheek. “She’s still beautiful.” She looked over her shoulder at her brother-in-law. “Do you really believe the plant Will went to retrieve will save her?”

  A tortured sigh escaped him. “I have to believe it.”

  The conversation between the three brothers echoed in her mind. “Can Elspeth truly heal people, Ben?” Prisca asked. It all seemed so fantastical.

  “Yes, she truly can.” He stepped farther into the room and leaned casually against one of the window frames.

  “Then why not let her?” Prisca followed him and placed her hand on his back. “What are you afraid of?”

  “When she heals with her touch, she has to use some of her own power. She has to give a part of herself. That could hurt her. And our child.” He inhaled deeply and turned to look at her. “You’ve no idea what it’s like to have to choose between your wife and child on one hand and your mother on the other. The last time Elspeth healed someone, she gave so much of herself that I thought I’d lost her.”

  “Who was she healing?”

  “Me,” Ben admitted.

  Heavens! She had no idea. “When were you that ill? I never heard anything about it.”

  “I didn’t tell the others.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I was actually sick before I left for Scotland. It was why I went looking for the fabled witch who can heal.”

  “And that was Elspeth?”

  “Her mother, actually. But Ellie has her power, now that she’s gone. It’s passed from mother to daughter, inherited like blue eyes or that streak of white at Simon’s temple.”

  “You have to know how all this sounds to me, Ben,” Prisca sighed.

  “Do you mean you can’t believe in the mystical world, Prissy?” His hazel eyes twinkled a bit, and he tugged her toward the settee.

  Hesitantly, she touched her hand to her locket for strength. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Allow your mind to consider the impossible. You’ll thank me for that.”

  “Consider the impossible.” She frowned.

  “For instance,” Ben began and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, “have you ever heard of Lycans?”

  Lycans. “You mentioned them this morning to Will. You said ‘As sure as we are Lycans exist.’”

  He grinned at her. “I thought you might have been listening.”

  “What is a Lycan?” she asked. “Do you not believe in them?”

  Ben threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I believe in them. If you’d like, I can get you a book or two on the subject.”

  Why would she care one way or the other? She’d never even heard of the creatures before today. “Don’t be difficult, Benjamin. Just tell me what they are.”

  He leaned forward and whispered, “Werewolves. Though Simon doesn’t like that word. So do try not to use it in front of him.”

  Why would the Duke of Blackmoor care if she said the word werewolf ? What utter nonsense. Besides, she took great care to talk to His Grace as little as it was anyway.

  “You’re staying here while Will is gone?” Ben asked.

  Prisca nodded.

  He winked at her. “Before you retire this evening, I’ll procure a volume for you to peruse.”

  “You want me to read about werewolves?”

  “I think you may find it enlightening.” Ben rose from his spot and tweaked her nose. “You can thank me later,” he said before leaving her to gape at his disappearing form.

  Twenty-Six

  Prisca stirred when she heard Lily’s soft voice call her name. “Prisca,” she heard as a gentle hand shook her shoulder. Prisca blinked her eyes open. “I had a room prepared for you upstairs. Why don’t you go and get some rest?”

  “What time is it?” Prisca asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “It’s late,” Lily said, covering a yawn. “Go and get some sleep.”

  “How is Alice?”

  “About the same,” Lily sighed. “I do hope it doesn’t take Will long.”

  “You truly believe the magic will work?” Prisca asked.

  “I do.”

  Prisca didn’t know what to say to that, so she simply nodded. It would take more thought on her part, apparently.

  Lily smiled and yawned again. “I have to get back to the duchess for my shift.”

  “Oh, let me take another turn,” Prisca said, rising from her chair.

  “That’s not necessary,” Lily said. “You sat with her most of the day.”

  “I know it’s not necessary. But I want to. Besides, you look like you could use some rest, yourself.”

  “Are you certain?” Lily asked hesitantly.

  “Go,” Prisca said, shooing her from the room. “I’m going to her now. I’ll call for you if anything happens.”

  Lily leaned and kissed her cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Prisca made her way t
o the dowager’s room and smiled at Major Forster, who slept in a chair with his feet propped on the edge of her bed. Prisca wiggled his foot and he looked up, blinking his eyes quickly.

  “Everything’s fine,” Prisca assured him when he looked panicked. “Go get some rest. It’s my turn.”

  “I don’t like to leave her.”

  “I know. But you’ll be better for her when you’ve rested.”

  The man finally lowered his feet and said, “Just for a few hours.”

  When he was gone, Prisca sat down beside the duchess. Alice Westfield had always seemed so strong. It was still so shocking to see her wasting away in the bed. It didn’t quite seem possible.

  Someone cleared his throat behind her, and Prisca glanced over her shoulder to find Ben leaning against the doorjamb, a large book in his hands. “Lily said I could find you here.”

  Prisca gestured to his tome. “A little light reading?”

  Ben grinned. “Told you I’d bring you a book to peruse. It’ll be a long night. If I were you, I’d start at the beginning.”

  “This is your werewolf book?” She bit back a grin. What utter nonsense.

  “Lycan,” he stressed, stepping forward and handing her the aged, black leather book. Lycans: Legend and Lore was emblazoned in gold on the cover.

  “Of course. How could I forget?” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Benjamin, I never knew you to be so odd.”

  He shrugged. “You’ve never been my sister before.”

  Prisca looked down at the book in her lap. Werewolves. It would probably keep her up while Alice slept. She sighed. “Thank you.”

  He winked at her and then left the room.

  Prisca cracked open the book to find the rendering of a single wolf, his snout lifted toward the sky. On the inside cover was a written note: A Lycan cannot be embraced by another until he embraces the wildness within himself.

  She touched a hand to her locket and turned the next page. Instantly she was enthralled, and she turned page after page until she spotted a sketch a few chapters in. A naked torso of a man caught her eye, but it was the crescent-moon-shaped mark on his chest that really drew her attention. “Heavens,” she muttered to herself. It looked identical to Will’s birthmark.