Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

"He nearly put my back out the last time we had to carry him into the house," Emory finished.

Blaine flopped into a chair with a harrumph. "Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean I have to take this abuse," he grumbled.

"Better they discuss your lack of virtue than mine," Will replied as he raised his glass to his lips.

The rapid tip-tap of light footsteps in the corridor caught his attention. Prisca. He could hear that sound and smell her sweet lilac scent. He'd know her even at one thousand paces. Her brothers were oblivious to her approach. But the earl was not. Definitely not. He stood up, tugged at the lapels of his jacket, and said, "If you'll excuse me for a moment."

Emory nodded absently at him, and Brimsworth slipped out the door.

The hair on the back of Will's neck rose as he turned his head to hear the sounds from the corridor more clearly. The earl had obviously gone to seek out Prisca. And Will could just imagine why.

Four

Prisca hurried down the hallway toward her room so she could retrieve a swatch from one of the many bolts of fabric Pierce had brought her when he returned home. He'd gifted her with several bolts of the exotic cloth, but they were much too heavy and cumbersome for her to carry down the stairs.

As a successful merchant, Pierce often had an opportunity to visit new and exciting places Prisca would never see. Yet she could imagine each and every foreign locale, just from hearing his stories.

Prisca could already see in her mind how lovely Elspeth would look in the dark hues from the West Indies. And she was fairly certain she could turn the fabric into something the lovely redhead could wear to the Yule Ball, even in her state.

Prisca rounded the corner on the way back to the staircase, not paying any attention to her surroundings, fully immersed in thoughts of clothing design, and ran straight into an object in her path. Her breath rushed out in one huge gasp as strong arms wrapped around her.

Dark amber eyes peered down into hers, twinkling with mirth. And something else. Prisca wasn't sure what.

"Lord Brimsworth! I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." She reached out and laid a hand upon his chest, still trying to steady herself.

"My fault, entirely, Miss Hawthorne," he laughed. "I was just on my way to my room to collect something."

"Me, too," Prisca said, holding up the swatch of cloth she'd just recovered from her dressing room. "And you were ambling along quite nicely until I nearly knocked you off your feet. My apologies."

"No apologies necessary, my dear," he said, his voice deepening a bit. His hands settled more comfortably around her waist, which was her first indication that he'd not released her yet. "I quite enjoyed catching you, to be truthful."

"You can let me go, now."

"If I do that, I'll have to concoct another situation in which I can stumble into you."

"You concocted that one?" Surely he'd not stepped into her path on purpose.

"That one was by chance, Miss Hawthorne. Or luck, as it was on my part." He released her with what she assumed was a reluctant sigh.

"If you consider yourself to be fortunate when I bowl you over, I'll have to make an effort to stab you with a fork. Or crimp the rug before you come through the front door."

Lord Brimsworth threw his head back and laughed. "You are quite delightful."

"Tell that to my brothers, who would wholeheartedly disagree," Prisca scoffed.

"I doubt those brothers would be very happy to find you in a corridor with a strange man…" came a voice from behind them.

Prisca looked around the earl's shoulder to see Will striding toward them. His eyebrows were pushed harshly together, and he looked as though he could easily strangle someone, quite possibly her. She gulped. "Will? What are you doing up here?"

"I was looking for your father, actually," he said, avoiding her gaze. She could always tell when Will lied. He couldn't look her in the eye, and he'd done his fair share of lying to her over the years.

"Of course, you were." She nodded, narrowing her eyes at him. "Papa's study is

below

stairs." She knew how much he liked it when she talked to him as though he were an ignorant child. He thoroughly detested it. Which gave her great satisfaction. "Do you need a map, my lord?"

"I can find my way there, thank you," he returned crisply. Then he held out an arm to her. "Shall I escort you back to Lily and Elspeth?"

The look he shot at Lord Brimsworth would have felled a lesser man. But the earl just squared his broad shoulders and stood there, a quirk of his eyebrow his only response. He didn't even reply. He just regarded Will as though he were an incoherent aberration.

Prisca looked up at the earl. "Shall we accept Lord William's guidance? Or journey out on our own?" The horrified expression on Will's face was worth the amused look on Lord Brimsworth's.

"If I had my druthers," the earl began, smiling at her.

"You do not," Will said sharply. Then he took Prisca's hand in his and placed it on his arm. With a tug that nearly dragged her down the hallway, he turned on his heel and walked toward the stairs.

Prisca glanced back over her shoulder. "Lord Brimsworth, weren't you on the way to your room? To collect something?"

Brimsworth stopped and nodded. Did he suddenly look disappointed? "Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Thank you for reminding me," the earl replied.

"I must get back to my friends. I'll see you later?"

"Most definitely. Perhaps another game of cards?" Brimsworth suggested.

Will nearly vibrated beside her, which was strange. Why should he care at all? She actually began to worry for the earl. He should stop talking this instant.

"Speaking of which," Brimsworth continued, "if the weather turns, Miss Hawthorne, would you care to take a short walk with me later?"

Prisca was nearly taken aback. Both by the earl's offer and by Will's low growl in response. He reminded her of a teakettle that was ready to boil.

"I'd love to," she said slowly, gauging Will's reaction. She didn't have to wait long.

"With a proper chaperone, of course," Will clipped out.

"Of course," Lord Brimsworth said, laughter coating his words. "Until later, then, my dear." He gave Prisca a tiny bow before turning the corner to go to his own room.

"You shouldn't be alone with him," Will grated out as he tugged her down the hallway. The muscle of his arm was tight under her fingers. So tight he felt as though it could break at the slightest provocation.

"You lost all rights to dictate to me, William. Besides, I didn't plan to be alone with him. We just bumped into one another."

"A poorly contrived coincidence," Will snarled.

"Are you insinuating that Lord Brimsworth's bumping into me wasn't accidental? How ridiculous." Prisca laughed, though her mind was spinning.

Prisca gasped as Will dragged her into the nearest sitting room. He closed the door, locked it, and leaned against it, drawing her close to him as he did so.

She shook her head. Had he lost his mind? "What are you doing?"

"Talking to you."

"Must you clutch me like a child would his governess' skirts while you

talk

to me?"

"I don't clutch you like a child, Priss," he said as his touch gentled. He brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead. "Never like a child." Slowly, his knuckles drew along her chin. Prisca closed her eyes, savoring the situation for a moment, until the memory of his betrayal sank back into her thoughts. Strange he should seem concerned about her now.

Perhaps it had something to do with Lord Brimsworth. Was he the reason why Will had dragged her into a room alone? "Are you jealous, William?" she asked as realization dawned.

***

Jealous? Was he? Bloody hell, of course he was. But he pressed his lips together.