Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

"Will, what's wrong?" Lily asked.

"Not a thing," he replied as he feigned a smile. There couldn't be another Lycan here, but it certainly smelled like it. A wild scent hung in the air. Very strange. Perhaps the lack of sleep was wreaking havoc on his senses.

At that moment, the large wooden door opened and the Hawthorne's ancient butler waved them inside. "Everyone is awaiting you in the yellow parlor, Your Grace."

Will trailed after Lily and Elspeth and concentrated on the strange scent. The odor only got stronger as they navigated the corridors. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. He was either losing his mind, or another Lycan was most definitely ensconced inside Langley Downs. But why and, more importantly, who?

Lily entered the yellow parlor, and Elspeth followed her inside. The scent was nearly overpowering. Will stood at the threshold, and from his spot, he scanned the room, overlooking each Hawthorne brother until his eyes landed on Prisca in the corner, seated across from a golden-haired stranger.

Her tinkling laugh held the man's undivided attention as she scooped a pile of buttons from the center of the card table in front of her. "It is a good thing we're not playing for real money, Miss Hawthorne," the stranger said. Then he shifted his gaze from Prisca to focus on Will, lifting his nose slightly as his eyes narrowed.

Who was this man, this other Lycan? Will felt the beast inside him roil and scramble for control when the libertine reached across the table to brush his fingers across Prisca's. Will clutched the doorjamb to steady himself.

"Will!" Emory Hawthorne rose from the settee, a welcoming smile on his face. "So good of you to come. It has been forever."

"Indeed!" Pierce Hawthorne pushed himself from the window seat where he was perched. "Haven't seen you since this past summer."

"Too bad for the lot of you," Lieutenant Darius Hawthorne chimed in, claiming Blaine's bishop with his queen in the process. "I saw Will just last week."

Will glanced from one Hawthorne brother's face to the next. They all sported the same mischievous twinkle in their eyes. He felt at once as though he was missing something important. "Well, here I am."

Prisca left her seat and embraced Lily. "I'm so glad you've come." She then squeezed Elspeth's hand. "You too, my lady. It will give us the chance to become better acquainted. It's no secret Benjamin is my favorite Westfield. How fortunate you are to have captured him."

"It was the other way around," Elspeth muttered quietly.

"And modest, too!" Prisca gushed, linking arms with both women. "Do let's retire to some place more private."

Her violet eyes briefly landed on Will, and he held his breath. In that instant, they may as well have been alone. But it lasted only for a moment.

"William," she said in her haughtiest voice, "you are blocking the doorway."

"Of course." He stepped aside, allowing her and the others to pass by him and into the corridor.

He watched them disappear around the corner but felt several pairs of eyes on him. Will turned back to find every Hawthorne brother watching him intently, and Pierce actually bit back a smile. What was

that

about?

Emory gestured to the golden-haired Lycan. "Will, allow me to introduce a friend of Blaine's, Dashiel Thorpe, the Earl of Brimsworth."

The earl smirked as though he knew a dark secret. "Lord William Westfield. Your reputation most certainly precedes you."

Will held out a hand to the newcomer, confirming his suspicion that the man was a Lycan when he felt the warmth of Brimsworth's skin through their gloves. Lycans were warmer than the average man, not that most average men realized it.

"Wonderful to meet you, Brimsworth," Will finally replied.

"You're not even going to comment on the slight to your reputation?" Blaine asked, his mouth hanging open in mock dismay. "Since the ladies are gone, I'd expected some witty rejoinder."

"A reputation such as his speaks for itself," Pierce clarified, causing a chuckle to bounce around the room.

A bored sigh escaped Will's lips. "I've no idea what you're referring to. I'm the epitome of an English gentleman." Then he let a smile he didn't feel break across his face. "An English gentleman with a sordid reputation, it appears."

Garrick's eyebrows drew together. "What

have

you been up to lately, Will?" he asked. The man looked none too happy, though that wasn't uncommon.

"A little of this, a little of that."

"A bit vague." Garrick's brow furrowed. Why did the vicar sound so suspicious? It was almost as though he was interviewing Will for some household position.

Will laughed at the absurdity of it. "Nothing much to tell, Garrick. I spent some time in Scotland this autumn. Ben's lovely wife is from Edinburgh. Beautiful area."

"Hmm," Garrick nodded. "Both your brothers seem to have accepted the marital noose around the neck without much complaint, haven't they?"

The unending noises of ecstasy from the night before echoed in Will's mind. "I haven't heard many protests." But he'd heard everything else. He refocused on the earl. If anyone should be answering questions, it was the stranger in their midst.

"What brings you to Hampshire, Brimsworth?" Will sank into a high-backed chair. He tried to sound as though the earl's response didn't matter. But it did. It mattered a great deal.

"I'm simply visiting for the holiday. The Hawthornes have been kind enough to allow me to stay for a bit."

Stay for a bit? In the house with Prisca? The Hawthorne men were mad. But, of course, they had no idea a beast lurked beneath their own roof.

"Where do you hail from?" Will accepted a glass from Emory and stared down into the amber liquid, though his ears perked up for any sign of discomfort from the earl.

"Kent, though I've not been home in quite some time." His shoulders visibly stiffened. Had Will found a source of contention for the earl?

"Where about in Kent?" Will pressed.

"Eynsford Park, if you must know. Shall I note the direction or provide you the names of my professors at Cambridge who can vouch for my character?"

Eynsford? As in the powerful Marquess of Eynsford? Most definitely a source of contention. "A bit peevish, Brimsworth?" Will calmly crossed an ankle over his knee, though his hackles rose at the mere tone of the man's voice.

"Being heir to a marquessate could potentially make one prone to eccentricities, I imagine," Garrick, suddenly the peacemaker, said slowly, coming to stand between the two.

"Being obscenely wealthy might do that as well." Emory laughed, raising a drink to his lips.

The Hawthorne brothers must think a great deal of the damned beast to extol his virtues in such a manner, Will thought, and it annoyed him to no end.

"Dash had great fun playing with Prisca this afternoon," Darius announced. Pierce and Emory exchanged anxious glances.

Will fought to keep his face neutral. "Is that so?"

"Lovely girl," Brimsworth said slowly, and Will saw something flicker in the man's gaze.

Will leaned forward with his elbows upon his knees. "I must tell you… I thought it was bad having just Simon, Ben, and myself in the same household. I can't imagine if two or three more were added to the mix. How do you all stand one another?"

"Oh, we each have our pursuits," Emory began.

But Blaine cut him off. "It's not so bad aside from Emory's blustering and Dari's cursing."

"The cursing has to stop," Garrick grumbled. "As should the late nights at The White Lion."

Pierce turned toward Will as though sharing a confidence. "Our good vicar doesn't approve of the wenches."

"Nor the drink," Blaine added as he punched Pierce in the arm conspiratorially.

"Having drunk with you before, Blaine, I can see just cause for his concern," Will joked. "You fall so heavily into your cups that you eventually lose consciousness. Then we're forced to go from bed to bed searching for you until we finally have to drag you from beneath whichever wench you've holed yourself up with just to bring you home."