Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

Prisca glanced to her side at Lily. When the duchess smiled with an acknowledging nod, Prisca found herself at a loss for words. A witch! Elspeth seemed so sweet. Did she have frogs' legs and eyes of newt stashed in her chambers? The idea made her cringe.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Billings approached them with his usual somber expression. "Your Grace, Ladies, the gentlemen await you in the parlor."

"Thank you, Billings," Lily replied and then towed Prisca toward the appointed room. "Why are you dragging your feet?"

Prisca shrugged. "What if he's not here? What if he's taken off for London or parts unknown again?"

Lily shook her head. "You are being a ninny, Prisca. Of course he's here."

As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Prisca sucked in a startled breath. Will was there, dressed in his finest black evening-wear. The stark colors brought out the light blue of his eyes, which raked across her form. He nodded curtly and started toward her, just as the duke and Ben took their wives' hands.

In a matter of seconds, Will towered over her, seeming larger and more formidable than normal. "My lady," he said crisply.

The tone was one she couldn't recall hearing in his voice before. It was cold and brusque. Prisca gulped. "I wasn't sure if you would come."

A shadow of a smile played about his lips. "And leave you to face the dogs all alone? For better or worse, Prissy, you are my wife."

His words were like a cold dagger to her heart. For better or worse. He already regretted their union. "Well, you have no one but yourself to blame for that," she replied tartly.

"Prisca," Elspeth said from behind her, "we're takin' two carriages ta ye're assembly room. Do ye and Will want ta travel with Ben and me?"

Prisca didn't want to travel at all. She'd like to march back down to the dower house, lock the door, and hide from the rest of the world, including her husband. But she didn't have a choice. "Thank you, Elspeth, that's very kind of you."

***

Will wasn't certain who he was angrier with, himself or Prisca. She was infuriating at every level, from her sharp tongue to her unforgiving nature. And still, he loved every inch of her. He didn't know why he'd thought she'd make this easy on him. She'd been saying for days that she would make him suffer. As always, she was true to her word.

Beside her in Ben's coach, he couldn't help but notice how the moonlight made her sheer overdress sparkle. He wanted nothing more than to throw his younger brother and Elspeth out into the cold December night and ravish Prisca in the middle of the carriage. Her ebony hair was knotted and draped over one alabaster shoulder, leaving the other one bare for his perusal.

On the other side of the coach, Elspeth cleared her throat, and Will managed to pull his gaze from what there was of Prisca's décolletage. He found his brother regarding him with an amused twinkle in his hazel eyes. Will glowered at Ben.

"So," Elspeth began, "I understand all of yer charmin' brothers will be in attendance this evening, Prisca."

Prisca shrugged and stared out the window. "Charming is subjective. And I haven't decided if I'm speaking to any of them, so it's of very little interest to me whether they attend or stay away."

That little statement put a pall on the evening, and no one else spoke a word until half an hour later when they rambled up the lane toward the assembly room. However, throughout the ride, Ben shot Will more than one questioning glance, which Will promptly ignored.

When the coach thankfully came to a stop, Will could see from his window that people were already milling about the entrance. He chanced another glance at his blushing bride, who wasn't blushing at all. Instead, Prisca's beguiling face was chalky white, as though she was scared to death. He couldn't keep himself from brushing his knuckles across her cheek. "Are you all right, love?"

"Splendid," she quipped.

The coachman opened the door, and Ben barreled out first, followed by Will. As soon as his brother had helped Elspeth from the carriage, Will stuck his head back inside. "We'll only stay as long as you want."

She nodded curtly and took his offered hand.

***

Prisca shivered a bit as she stepped out into the chilly night air. She knew Will's eyes were trained on her, but she chose not to look up at him. This night would be difficult enough without staring into those icy blue depths. As they walked up the stony path to the assembly room, Prisca smiled at other couples and families that crowded the path.

The mousy vicar, Mr. Bostic, and his harpy of a wife stepped aside, both of them with their eyes trained on Elspeth. "Who do you suppose that is?" the man whispered as they walked past.

"Most likely some lightskirt," his wife replied with a scandalized tone. "You know how those Westfield men are."

Prisca pulled her arm from Will's and looked back over her shoulder at the couple. She pasted on a sickly sweet smile for the woman and stepped toward her. "Mrs. Bostic, I didn't even notice you until you opened your mouth."

The older woman's face went blank. "Miss Hawthorne, how wonderful to see you."

Prisca shook her head. "Is it really?"

"I beg your pardon?" the vicar's wife replied.

"Stop, Prissy," Will's deep voice whispered in her ear. "She's not worth it."

She'd spent years ignoring Will's advice, and she wasn't about to follow it now. Prisca gestured toward Elspeth's disappearing form. "I believe I heard you make a disparaging remark about my sister-in-law, and I wanted to correct your misguided notion."

Mrs. Bostic began to stutter, "Y-your sisterin-law?" A pained smile crossed the woman's face. "I had no idea that one of your brothers had married, Miss Hawthorne. Please accept my best wishes."

Prisca stood a little taller and tilted her head to one side. "You misunderstand me, ma'am. My brothers are all still bachelors, but I have married Lord William. The woman you maligned is Lord Benjamin's wife of the last four months."

Will placed his hand on her shoulder, but Prisca refused to look away from the nasty, old gossip. Mrs. Bostic was vicious and spiteful, and Prisca wasn't about to let her cruel words go unanswered. She felt some satisfaction as the woman's mouth fell open in surprise. Prisca couldn't help from pressing on. "I do hope your high opinion of me has not faltered since I am now married to one of

those

Westfield men."

Mrs. Bostic resembled a fish as she opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Come along, my dear," Will said loudly. "I do hate to keep His Grace waiting." Then he nodded to the vicar and his wife. "Mr. Bostic, Mrs. Bostic."

"My lord," the vicar managed to say, his face blazing red with embarrassment.

Satisfied that she'd put Mrs. Bostic in her place, Prisca slid her hand into the crook of Will's arm and let him lead her back toward the entrance of the assembly hall.

"You do make quite the impression, love," Will said quietly as they pushed their way through the crowd.

Prisca tipped her nose in the air. "Please. I couldn't let her say something unkind about Elspeth. It's not her fault you and your brothers have been unable to keep your trousers on over the years."

Will laughed as they stepped over the threshold into the holly-scented assembly room, which was filled with friends, neighbors, and every one of Prisca's brothers. She barely made eye contact with Emory before looking away to find Lily and Elspeth in the far corner, talking with Lizzie and Sarah Giddings. All things considered, they would be better company than associating with her brothers. In fact, she ought to set the pair on the Hawthorne brothers as the first stage of her plan for retribution.

"Pierce is gesturing for us," Will said.