Regency Wolfe: A de Wolfe Pack Connected World collection of Victorian and Regency Tales

by Mary Lancaster

  But those hazel-green eyes with specks of gold left him no choice. There was a question in their depths. He recognized it as he had one too.

  “Damn,” he muttered then took her mouth with his. Any idea of intimidating her fell away the moment his lips met hers. A surge of desire took him under, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, swirling in its depths.

  His entire body quivered at the spicy flavor of her. She tasted as good as she smelled, with a hint of cloves and cinnamon. Then her tongue hesitantly moved against his as though she was unfamiliar with doing so, and he nearly groaned. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

  Her gloved hand fluttered up to the side of his face, whether to push him away or draw him closer, he didn’t know.

  The knock on the carriage door had him jerking back.

  “We’re blockin’ traffic,” his footman called out.

  Nathaniel shook his head in an attempt to clear it. The woman appeared as startled as he. Indeed, she should be after that potent kiss. He quickly opened the door and exited to assist her in alighting right outside the bookstore she’d named, as promised.

  Her hand trembled in his as she stepped down to the street. Rather than please him, as it had been his initial intent to frighten her, it angered him. Now that he’d been successful in scaring her, regret filled him. Somewhere deep inside, he’d wanted her to enjoy that kiss as much as he had.

  “Do not venture there again,” he said then cleared his suddenly dry throat. “It’s far too dangerous. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” she answered as she looked up at him.

  He stared hard at her. Surely that couldn’t be delight in the depths of her eyes or a hint of a smile on those luscious lips. Not when her hand shook so. She pulled it from his grasp.

  “Good day, Mr. Hawke.” She turned and walked into the bookstore without a backward glance.

  He stood staring after her for a long moment.

  “Where to next, Captain?” the driver asked.

  “Home. I’ve had enough adventure this day.” He stepped up into the carriage, rubbing his thigh even as he welcomed its pain, anything to quell his yearning to go after her.

  He blamed his rash behavior on orchids. That was the only possible explanation for his outlandish conduct.

  LOVING THE HAWKE, Book 1 of The Seven Curses of London, Now Available:

  Amazon

  Amazon UK

  Other Books by the Author

  Victorian Romances

  The Seven Curses of London Series:

  Loving the Hawke, Book I – Amazon

  Charming the Scholar, Book II – Amazon

  Rescuing the Earl, Book III – Amazon

  Dancing Under the Mistletoe, Book IV – Amazon

  Tempting the Scoundrel, Book V – Amazon

  Romancing the Rogue, a Regency Prequel – Amazon

  Falling for the Viscount, Book VI – Amazon

  Daring the Duke, Book VII – Amazon

  The Secret Trilogy:

  Unraveling Secrets, Book I – Amazon

  Passionate Secrets, Book II – Amazon

  Shattered Secrets, Book III – Amazon

  Medieval Romances

  The Vengeance Trilogy:

  A Vow To Keep, Book I – Amazon

  A Knight’s Kiss, A Novella, Book 1.5 – Amazon

  Trust In Me, Book II – Amazon

  Believe In Me, Book III – Amazon

  Falling for a Knight Series:

  A Knight’s Christmas Wish, A Novella, Book .5 – Amazon

  A Knight’s Quest, Book 1 – Amazon

  A Knight’s Temptation, Book 2 – Amazon

  A Knight’s Captive, Book 3 – Coming Autumn 2018

  If you liked this book, sign up for my newsletter to find out when the next one is available, and please consider writing a review!

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Trusting the Wolfe. I hope you enjoyed the beginning to The Seven Curses of London series. This novella was inspired by Kathryn Le Veque’s The Wolfe, an epic medieval. If you haven’t yet read it, I highly recommend it.

  I invite you to read the next books book in this series, Loving the Hawke and Charming the Scholar.

  If you’d like to know when my next book will be available, sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Facebook or on Twitter.

  Reviews help authors tremendously and also help other readers find books, so please consider leaving a review. They are much appreciated.

  More historical romances are coming your way!

  Happy Reading!

  Lana

  Love’s Legacy

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Amanda Mariel

  Dedication

  For the talented Kathryn Le Veque, thank you for inviting me to be a part of your world. For the readers and fans of the De Wolfe series, may you love Camden and Rebecca as much as I do.

  Chapter One

  Yorkshire England, Summer, 1815

  Lady Rebecca Sumerville could scarcely believe her eyes. She stared up at Babylon castle, focused on the flicker of light in the narrow lancet windows of the second-story entry hall. “Phoebe,” she rasped. “Do you see that?”

  “See what? And why are you whispering?” Her sister, slanted a curious stare at her.

  Why indeed? She supposed she was half afraid a sudden sound would scare the light away. Reluctantly Rebecca glanced away from the castle, catching her sister’s gaze. “There”—she pointed at Babylon—“the light.” Her heart sunk when she looked back at the castle barely visible against the night sky. The glow had vanished.

  “I see nothing.” Phoebe shook her head, her curls flouncing about her neck and face.

  “It was there. I saw it. A flickering glow coming from the lancet windows.” Rebecca turned back toward Babylon hoping to spot the flicker once more. Frowning, she pressed a hand to her abdomen.

  Her family’s Yorkshire estate bordered the ancient stone castle situated on the opposite side of a small creek. In the light of day you could make out the castle’s lines from her house. Rebecca had spent many an hour throughout her life gazing at the formidable keep and daydreaming.

  The great keep peeked out from behind the walls encasing the sandstone structure. She’d snuck over to the castle on more than one occasion, though she’d never entered its walls. Most frequently, she strolled around the outer wall studying the stone. On some occasions she’d sat near the bricked up postern gate. Each time she laid eyes on Babylon, she created tales in her mind about the castle and its legendary occupants.

  According to the tales no one had lived there for hundreds of years. Not since Sir Kenton Le Bec and his beloved Lady Nicola Aubrey-Thorne passed away. Rebecca imagined what the couple must have lived like and spun her own stories to explain the bricked up gate as she’d never heard anything about it in the legend of Babylon.

  Phoebe laced an arm through hers. “Let us return to the party.”

  Rebecca smiled at her twin sister. “Not just yet. I want to watch for the light to return. What do you suppose caused it?”

  “I don’t know. Mayhap it was your imagination.” Phoebe tugged on Rebecca’s arm. “Come on before mother sends a search party to look for us.”

  Rebecca’s chest tightened as she stared back at the castle. Had she imagined the flickering glow? She didn’t think so.

  Phoebe tugged again, pulling Rebecca forward. “Please be sensible. Even if you did see a light it was likely just the moon’s glow. There is nothing to be gained by remaining here. Let us return now.”

  She supposed her sister was right. By now mother had surely noted their absence. Should they dally much longer they’d earn her scorn. After all, tonight was about them. Mother had gone to great efforts to arrange the house party. She’d invited the most sought-after families along with their bachelor sons, hoping to make a match for at least one of her eligible daughters. She’d have their hides if she took notice of their absence.

  “If
we must.” Sighing, Rebecca followed Phoebe toward the house. “Though I do find this party rather tedious.”

  Phoebe squeezed her elbow. “Come now, it is not all that bad.”

  “Perhaps not for you.” Rebecca grinned. Unlike her, Phoebe did wish to marry sooner rather than later. “Which gentleman has your fancy?”

  “Do not tease me.” Phoebe swatted Rebecca with her fan.

  The quartet’s music drifted from the house as they drew closer. Light spilled out onto the lawn casting the front gardens in a glow. Rebecca reached for Phoebe’s dance card. “Shall we see who awaits you, dear?” She flicked her gaze over it. “Lord Owens signed twice. Might I find you as Lady Owens before the summer quits us?”

  Phoebe jerked her wrist away. “Stop jesting. I do not find you at all entertaining.”

  With their arms hooked together, Rebecca strode next to Phoebe as they reentered the ballroom. Noting the light flush upon her sister’s cheeks she stifled a laugh. “Very well, if you insist.”

  Phoebe released Rebecca’s arm. “Here he comes now.”

  Lord Owens strolled toward them, his eyes sparkling. He did not wear his soldier’s uniform as he had on previous occasions but a pang of upset raced through Rebecca all the same. How could Phoebe have designs on such a man after what had happened to their brother? “Does it not bother you that he is a soldier, Phoebe?”

  “No, and do hush. He might hear you.”

  Rebecca looked around the crowded room. “I’m certain he cannot.”

  “No matter. I find Lord Owens and all of the other soldiers to be quite honorable. They are heroes. We should be happy to dance with any one of them.”

  It wasn’t that Rebecca disliked soldiers. She simply could not abide putting herself through more unnecessary heartache. Her brother, like all of the other soldier’s had been brave if not foolish and his death still caused her pain—it always would.

  “There is nothing heroic about death and chaos.” Rebecca glanced at her twin, noting the sparkle dancing in her eyes.

  For an instant, a pang of envy struck her. Despite being twins, Rebecca had always thought Phoebe was much prettier. She took after their mother, nearly a head shorter, with the kind of build that made gentlemen naturally protective. Her hazel eyes suited her thick chestnut locks. Rebecca on the other hand resembled their father, too tall to be fashionable, with thin blonde hair she could never get to sit right.

  “Do hush.”

  Phoebe stepped away to join Lord Owens before Rebecca could say more. Not that her stubborn sister would listen anyway. Phoebe had made herself quite clear.

  What a ninny to so happily offer herself up to heartbreak and abandonment! Well, not Rebecca. She’d had all she was willing to take of war and soldiers. She’d not be made a widow at the end of some enemy’s weapon. Life would not find her as it had her sister-in-law, Lady Daphne. The poor lady was barely wed to Rebecca’s brother long enough to be with child when Rowland was called away. Now she found herself a widow raising a wee one without a father, all because her husband had chosen to purchase a commission in the British Army.

  Pushing the dreadful memory aside, she fanned herself while she moved through the crush of people toward the refreshment table. Between the guests crowded into the room and the warm summer temperatures, the ball had taken on an unpleasant stifling quality. Humidity caused sweat to form at the back of Rebecca’s neck where her hair was gathered. A glass of cold claret would be divine just now.

  Someone rested a hand on her shoulder stopping her halfway to the refreshment table.

  “Rebecca darling, I’d like to introduce you to Lord Fredrickson.”

  Drat. So much for avoiding mother’s matchmaking. Rebecca ground her teeth before turning to face mother with a fake grin pasted onto her lips. Mother smiled back with mischief dancing in her hazel gaze. A tall dark-haired man stood beside her.

  “Lord Fredrickson served with Rowland in the second regiment and has just returned from Waterloo.” Mother glanced up at the gentleman.

  “How fortunate.” Rebecca let the smile fall from her lips. “Did you know my brother well? Rowland was not so lucky as you, my lord. He is never to return to us.”

  Mother inhaled sharply. “Rebecca.”

  Lord Fredrickson’s mouth pulled into a wince at Rebecca’s words. “I am terribly sorry about your brother’s misfortune.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” She turned to her mother. “I fear I have come down with a headache. Might I retire to my rooms?”

  Mother touched a gloved hand to Rebecca’s brow. “Very well, darling. I’ll send a maid up with something to sooth the pain.”

  “Thank you mother.” Rebecca offered Lord Fredrickson a curt nod then took her leave. Her head did not truly throb but she’d found herself desperate to escape the crush. She simply said the first thing that came to mind. Thank heavens it worked.

  Phoebe stepped in front of her just as she reached the door leading beyond the crowded room. “Where are you off to now?”

  “I have a headache.” Rebecca forced herself to ignore the inclination to avert her gaze.

  Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “No you don’t. Tell me you are not planning to sneak off to Babylon.”

  “Of course not. I simply cannot tolerate one more moment of this ball. I’m going to bed.”

  “You can’t fool me. I know you’re considering a trek to the castle. At least wait for the morrow.”

  Phoebe did know Rebecca well. It would do her no good to argue over her intentions as her sister would see right through whatever Rebecca said. “I considered it but have changed my mind.”

  “What a relief.” Phoebe grinned. “Might you reconsider your stance on mother’s party as well? If you would allow yourself to have some fun you might find it tolerable after all. There are a great many gentlemen here who did not serve in the war.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I am well aware of who is in attendance. Please let me pass.”

  Phoebe moved aside calling after Rebecca as she mounted the staircase. “It will be a long week if you insist on avoiding the festivities.”

  Rebecca only quickened her pace. Long week indeed. This was but the second day of her mother’s house party. The festivities were planned to last a fortnight. The family knew mother intended to find husbands for Rebecca and Phoebe but the guests were under the impression the party was to celebrate the end of the war. Rebecca supposed that’s why mother invited so many soldiers to join. Just about everyone of importance who had served was present along with a great many titled families with their bachelor sons in tow.

  None of the gentlemen interested her, least of all the war heroes. Sure, there were many handsome, desirable gentlemen in attendance, but looks and titles held no sway with her. When she married, if she did, it would be for love, not some match arranged by her mother, or anyone else. Her heart would do the choosing.

  After lighting a lantern, she settled onto the window seat her father had built into her room. She loved sitting on the plush velvet surface while she read or stared at the castle. Rebecca set her lantern down and peered out the window, searching through the dark veil of night for the shadowed outline of Babylon.

  Ah, there it was, a barely visible monument in the moonlight. Legend had it Sir Kenton and Lady Nicola shared a love so great that not even death could separate them. It was said they remained at Babylon together to this day, and when the fog thickened, you could hear them calling to each other, their voices carried through the mists. She wanted a love like theirs. A love so strong not even the finality of death could break its bonds.

  “My lady.”

  Rebecca glanced toward the door. Her maid stood in the entrance with a tray in her hands.

  “Your mother sent up a tonic.” The maid crossed the room and placed the tray near Rebecca.

  “Thank you.” She managed a weak smile. “I do not wish to be disturbed tonight. You may pick up the tray in the morning.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The maid curt
sied then departed.

  Rebecca turned back to the window and leaned her forehead against the glass. Despite the warmth of the summer night the leaded glass felt cool against her skin. She sighed, staring back at the keep. What caused the flickers of light she’d seen earlier? Had someone been inside the ruins? Or had she imagined it as Phoebe suggested?

  The light caught her eye again—bigger, brighter—a flickering beacon against the blackness of night. This time the glow appeared to be coming from higher up in the keep. A smile stretched across her face. She’d not imagined a thing. Someone, or something, was in the castle.

  She narrowed her gaze hoping to see more clearly. The light glowed behind the lancet windows of the massive stone structure. It looked as if someone had built a fire in one of the rooms. Who would dare to enter the castle? She could not imagine, but someone had to be in there. Every fiber of her being called for her to go catch the intruder.

  She stood, strolling halfway across her room before stilling. No. She couldn’t. She’d given Phoebe her word, and she’d not go back on it.

  Her investigation would have to wait until morning.

  Chapter Two

  Camden Le Bec strolled across the large bailey stretching his stiff muscles. He peered through the thick blanket of fog clinging to the castle grounds. There was a lot of work to get done today in order to make the old castle inhabitable.

  He massaged his stiff neck as he headed for the stable. The medieval stone florr he’d slept on left him sore all over. He’d arrived at Babylon late last evening, sadly ill-prepared for what he found. What the devil had he been thinking arriving at an abandoned castle alone, and at night?

  Once Wellington released him from duty he dismissed those in his charge and set out for a quiet place to clear his head. Though he loved his family, he found himself reluctant to return home straightaway. It was not that he regretted his part in the war or his duties as a soldier. He most certainly did not. On the contrary, he took pride in his accomplishments.