by Abby Gordon
Thirty minutes of arduous walking for the horses passed. Through the window flap, Amanda saw the first flurries and felt her stomach tighten so much she thought she might be ill. Controlling her breathing, she realized it wasn’t fear, but anticipation. She knew the feeling, although it had never been this strong. Something was going to happen. Her life was about to change. Something even more momentous than her mother dying, her best friend Elise surviving the fever that spring, or her father marrying Bettina—something was about to happen. This time the feeling was more intense, tugging her heart. A quiver swept through her body. Knowing better than to fight it, she looked calmly at the others in the carriage, wondering how their lives would also be affected.
Her eyes went to her brother Aaron. So much about him had changed. She didn’t understand how he could have done some of the things he’d done. Things she was fairly certain their father didn’t know about. If it hadn’t been for Karl… Amanda shivered and knew with a certainty she wouldn’t be able to explain that Aaron would not survive whatever was about to occur. She bit her lip, knowing better than to say anything.
Amanda looked at her father. All her life, he had refused to acknowledge what Amanda’s mother could do, what she had inherited from her. Her mother had taught her what she could without Heinrich knowing. Although otherwise indulgent, he absolutely did not accept anything he could not see, touch, taste, or feel. It was, she knew, the lawyer in him. She could see his strength, but something was holding him back from using it.
Aaron was now squabbling with Bettina about the blankets. Bettina. A vision of the woman smiling up at her husband as he gently patted her rounded stomach filled Amanda’s eyes. Stunned Amanda stared at her stepmother. Bettina had voiced her determination not become pregnant, yet Amanda’s visions had not been wrong yet. And the expressions on their faces had been soft, tender and loving. Nothing like what Amanda had seen from either of them since before their wedding day.
Her eyes went to her father, gazing out the window then back at the woman seated next to him. He caught her movement and faced her.
“What do you feel?” he whispered. “Tell me.”
Startled at his question, Amanda looked at him but, for once, didn’t hide the calm certainty she felt. She could see the fear in his eyes, as well as the need to know.
“Things are going to change, Papa,” she whispered. “For all of us.”
He nodded and, without another word, turned back to the window. She considered his response. He had never reacted that way before and, much as the growing anticipation stirred her, she wondered at it. What could have caused the change in him? He’d never reacted so calmly when she had gotten the feeling that something was about to happen. He’d always scoffed at her, belittled her feelings. Maybe what was about to happen was so strong he felt it and realized the hopelessness of resisting it. Then again, he had never asked her about her visions.
Amanda glanced from brother to father, realizing that her brother had never mentioned Amanda’s or her mother’s abilities. What they could feel or sense. She saw the acknowledgement in her father’s eyes. With a quick look at his son, Heinrich turned to look out the glass window.
Amanda reeled from waves of sensation that nearly made her nauseous. Had her mother seen this? Had her mother seen and told her father? Did he know what was going to happen? Or a possibility of what could be? Fighting back the need to ask him questions she knew he would refuse to answer, Amanda turned her gaze to the window.
The two of them watched the flakes swirl down faster and thicker. They felt the carriage slow even more as the horses struggled against the wind and tried to maintain their footing. Suddenly their conveyance came to a stop.
Amanda heard the driver’s shout and felt the shift behind her as Jenkins jumped down. She closed her eyes, remembering the blacksmith’s words. The horse was lame. They would have to seek shelter at the Beast’s Lair.
In the distance a wolf howled.
Chapter Two
“My lord?” The calm voice of his butler came from the bedroom door.
“Yes, Anders?”
Seated in a leather chair, Wulfgar looked up from the account book.
“There’s a carriage here, my lord,” the butler told him. “The footman says one of their horses has gone lame. The family requests shelter from the blizzard.”
“Family?” The nobleman scowled as his gaze went to the window and saw the wind-flung snow.
“A married couple, his son and daughter, my lord.”
“What kind of fool takes his family out when there’s an early blizzard on the way?” he wondered.
“I’m sure you’ll see why,” Anders replied calmly.
Lord Wulfgar Socton sighed. Nodding, he got to his feet, closing the ledger book. He had hoped that the storm would prevent any intrusions, giving him time to fully review all the books brought from his distant properties. It appeared that wish would not be granted. As he made his way toward the door, he felt a tingling in his mind. A hint of expectancy that he had last felt as a young man when he’d thought he’d found the woman of his dreams. Only later, he accepted the harsh realization that his bride was not who he thought and he had walked into a trap.
It didn’t matter that the marriage had kept him from having to deal with the family curse. He’d been tricked, and that fact rubbed him raw.
Reaching the door, he followed Anders down the wide corridor. Generations of Socton lords and their ladies looked down on him. He glanced at the portrait of his grandfather, silently asking for his guidance. At the top of the grand staircase, he heard a strident feminine voice. Anders winced and glanced at him anxiously.
Wulfgar moved deliberately down the center of the treads, observing the people in the entryway. Off to the right, he could hear Mrs. Anders, the housekeeper, directing maids to ready three bedrooms and sending word to the chef that there would be four more for dinner.
“Georg will be thrilled,” Anders murmured about their temperamental chef.
In the center of the hall, a young woman stood berating a stoic gentleman. Wulfgar guessed him to be fifteen years older than himself, and surmised that he was the husband foolish enough to take his family out into the impending storm. To Wulfgar’s left, a young man in his early twenties studied various objets d’art that Soctons had collected for several centuries. Wulfgar’s eyes narrowed as the man picked one up to examine it. He glanced at Anders.
“Keep an eye on the younger man,” he murmured.
Anders nodded. “Of course, my lord.”
Reaching the lower landing, Wulfgar searched the hall for the fourth member of the family. A shadow shifted near the door, drawing his attention. The daughter, he deduced, realizing she was trying to avoid the attention of the arguing couple. As if sensing his approach, the shadow moved forward, coalescing into a young woman. A slender hand pushed the hood of her cloak off her head, and she looked up. The collision of their gazes struck Wulfgar like the body blow he’d taken in his last battle. He absorbed the gentle strength in the golden-brown eyes and felt her calm surround him.
****
Amanda knew she was staring but couldn’t help it. It was the face in her vision. Pale blue eyes gleamed in the lamplight from a face that looked like it had been carved from stone. His black hair gleamed more like the fur of the animal he’d been named for. This was a man of strength. The blacksmith’s words came back to her. He had served the king, fought in the last wars, and lost his wife, supposedly had her killed. Gazing into the steady eyes, she knew that this man would not have had his wife murdered, nor harmed her himself. No, she sensed, this man would see that as a great sign of weakness. And there was none of that in him. However the woman had died, it had not been because of her husband.
“Why didn’t you insist on going on?” Bettina shrieked at Heinrich. “I want to get home and see my mother!”
Flinching at the harsh words and tone directed at her father, Amanda watched the man on the stairs turn his gaze from her
to them. She saw the scowl on his face and prayed that he wouldn’t cast them all out into the storm. She compared the composed power of the man who continued toward them with her father. Had her father always been so weak? The disloyal thought flashed through her mind, and she closed her eyes. No, but he had been lonely, she admitted. And that realization helped her understanding of him. And, she started, her gaze returning to the man descending the staircase, it could be applied to the lord.
The tall, broad-shouldered man reached the fifth step from bottom of the stairs.
“Baron Wulfgar Socton,” announced the butler behind him.
The hall echoed with the sudden silence as Bettina stopped mid-word. Aaron turned from the second table and moved to stand by his father and Bettina. Heinrich drew himself up and nodded at the nobleman. Amanda caught her breath, knowing that her father should have bowed. Lord Socton stiffened at the insult.
“My lord,” he began. “I am Guild Master Heinrich von Steinser. I apologize for the intrusion, but my family and I request shelter until the storm ends.”
“Did you go through Gerdenstau?” Socton inquired in a deep voice, referring to the town where they’d stopped and dined.
“We did, my lord.”
“And no one there warned you about the storm?” His scowl deepened. “Or did you ignore their warnings?”
“We thought we could complete the journey to Dachenstein,” Heinrich answered defensively. “From there, it is but one day’s travel to our home. My wife is most anxious to be home amongst her own things.”
“Indulging one’s wife is understandable,” the baron intoned, eyes sweeping the four and lingering on Amanda. “Foolishly endangering one’s family is beyond the pale.”
Heinrich flushed at his censoring words and tone.
“My wife, Bettina, my lord. My son, Aaron, and,” he suddenly looked around the hall as if just realizing he didn’t know where his daughter was. “Amanda?”
She stepped into his line of sight.
“I’m here, Father.”
“My daughter, Amanda.”
“My lord,” she replied as she curtsied lower than Wulfgar’s rank demanded.
“Maid Amanda.” He greeted her with a nod he had not given other members of her family. “Mrs. Anders?”
“Here, my lord,” the matronly woman replied and hurried into view. “All is ready, my lord.”
His gaze swept the four, again resting longer on Amanda. “Mrs. Anders will show you to your rooms. I dine at eight.”
He turned and walked back up the middle of the grand staircase. He went to his left and disappeared from sight. Amanda was unaware of anything until she could no longer hear his footfalls. As he left their sight, Bettina let out a little screech.
“How rude,” she exclaimed. “Not even a welcome or…”
“Come now, dear,” Heinrich murmured as Anders and his wife bristled at the insult to their master. “Let’s follow Mrs. Anders and get you near a fire. Won’t that feel nice?”
Bettina grumbled and complained all the way up the staircase. Aaron followed, his avaricious eyes taking in the riches displayed around him. Amanda paused near Anders at the foot of the stairs.
“I hope we won’t put the staff to too much trouble, sir.”
“It’s all right, miss,” he assured her. “We don’t get much company these days. A bit of trouble will do us good.” He winked at her good naturedly.
With a chuckle, she smiled and followed the others up the grand staircase and to the right. At the top, she glanced back the other way, wondering where their host had disappeared.
****
Back in his bedroom, Wulfgar stared out at the gardens now covered in a light blanket of snow. Amanda. Beloved, Wulfgar translated. With a voice as soft and gentle as a spring rain, as soothing to hear as her face was to look at. Dammit to hell! He didn’t want a woman. He didn’t need a woman. He exhaled noisily. So why could he not stop the compulsion to claim her? The animal within him stirred awake and demanded to be unleashed to roam. And it wanted the young maid who had just wandered across his path.
No.
Why do you continue to fight your nature?
“I am not a beast,” he growled. “I am a baron. A civilized gentleman who has served in the king’s court.”
And you are a man with hungers that have been starved for too long.
He closed his eyes. That was true, but that didn’t mean…
Why do you always fight fate?
Shaking his head, he opened his eyes. After what happened five years ago? I could have destroyed the family.
She was necessary for us to live. She understood this and was a willing sacrifice. She died to keep us safe.
Is that supposed to make me feel better?
It is the truth. You have let guilt restrain you for long enough. There is a power in this Beloved. You sense it as well as I.
Wulfgar clenched his jaw. He was not going to give in… The beast backed off.
They won’t be able to leave for at least three days. There’s no harm in dreaming of her.
Slowly, Wulfgar relaxed. Yes, in his dreams, he could have her.
****
Just before eight, Amanda left her elegantly appointed room and retraced her steps back to the grand staircase. A footman waited at the top.
“Excuse me,” she paused next to him. “Where is the dining room?”
“This way, miss,” he replied, leading her down the stairs and to the right. “Your parents and brother are already with Lord Socton.”
“I’m sorry to be so late,” she whispered. “What is your name?”
He paused, his hand on the knob.
“Jordan, miss.” He opened the door.
“Thank you, Jordan,” she smiled, going in.
Bettina immediately began berating her for keeping them waiting. Lord Wulfgar rose from the head of the table. He met the young woman, deciding the pale blue gown did not become her at all. Looking at the hesitant gold eyes that rose to his face, Bettina’s voice faded from his focus and he noticed that the gown fit loosely around her body. Nor did the color suit her. It would, however, be excellent on her stepmother. Realizing she was wearing one of the other woman’s castoffs, Wulfgar wondered why it infuriated him and why he found it so objectionable that she would be wearing someone’s discards.
“Good evening, Maid Amanda,” he greeted her, bowing slightly.
She dropped him a curtsy and he smiled slightly, realizing she meant to atone for her father’s earlier discourtesy. He offered her his arm.
“Good evening, Lord Socton,” she murmured, lightly placing her hand on his wrist. “Your home is lovely.”
“Your room is comfortable?” he inquired.
“Exceedingly so,” she nodded, smiling up at him.
He became entranced by the dimple that appeared in her right cheek. Bettina was already sitting to the left of his chair, with the men opposite her. Reluctantly, he sat Amanda next to the woman. He retook his seat and the first course was placed before them.
Wulfgar stayed mostly quiet during dinner, watching his guests. Amanda tried to eat, but apparently the proximity to her stepmother had drained her of any appetite. Bettina talked through the meal about the parties they’d attended in the capital. Under the belief that such things would impress their host, Bettina mentioned the names of courtiers as if they were on close standing with such highly placed people. She flirted outrageously with both Lord Socton and her stepson. The younger man flirted right back, engaging in a repartee that made Amanda cringe visibly twice.
Each time Wulfgar asked her a direct question, Bettina or Aaron answered for her. Wulfgar glanced at Heinrich and saw that the man was also embarrassed by the behavior of his wife and son, but seemed unable or unwilling to control either.
Mrs. Anders rolled in a cart with an elaborate tea service.
“No sherry?” Bettina exclaimed, startled from the telling of yet another story. “Lord Socton, do you think us too low to se
rve us wine?” she demanded.
Mrs. Anders placed a steaming tea cup before her master, then moved to Amanda. Wulfgar raised an eyebrow as the housekeeper met his gaze briefly. He smiled slightly. The housekeeper was making it clear to him that she approved of the daughter, and her contempt for the rest of the family obvious.
“I don’t serve wine at all,” he deigned to reply. “Alcohol clouds the brain of clear thinking, don’t you think, sir?” he glanced at Heinrich.
“I’ve seen many cases in court where wine affected the judgment of one or both parties,” Heinrich agreed. “Thank you, Mrs. Anders,” he added as she served him the third cup. Aaron was next and Bettina last.
“Nonsense,” Bettina scoffed, not noticing the insult she’d been given. “Why would you think something like that?”
“Because I saw too many officers who had wine the night before a battle. Too many of their soldiers died because their commanders were foolishly feeling the effects of overindulgence,” he stated flatly. “Tea has a calming effect and produces a deeper, more relaxing sleep.”
He noticed how Amanda listened intently to his exchange with her father and stepmother. Now she picked up her teacup and blew lightly across the top to cool it. He felt something inside him tighten at the sight of her pursed lips. The beast stirred to life. Unbidden, the thought of that mouth accepting his cock came to mind. He remembered the softness of her skin when he’d taken her hand and could just imagine her exploring his body.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced at his lap and willed control back into that suddenly unruly part of him. How long had it been since he’d wanted to be with a woman? Knowing the answer, he thought of his reaction when he’d realized she was wearing clothes made for someone else. He’d never felt anger like that. Nor the need to protect a woman from someone else’s comments.
“One thing before I forget,” he spoke, setting his cup down. His thoughts were dangerous. He knew nothing about her or her family. He’d gone down that path before and it had nearly destroyed him and what was left of his family. He had to remind himself constantly of that. Otherwise he would not be able to resist the hunger. “There are animals on the grounds. They are wolves and listen only to myself and Anders. Do not leave the house unless you are in my company.”