Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Five

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Eight

Epilogue

About the Author

Copyright © 2010 by Lydia Dare

Cover and internal design © 2010 by Sourcebooks, Inc. Cover design by April Martinez

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Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks,

Inc.

P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

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To Tammy—Thank you for always being there,

for putting up with me when I'm difficult,

and for making this process magical.

To Jodie—Thanks for opening the door to the past,

for walking so willingly into the paranormal,

and for making it so much fun.

One

Langley Downs, Hampshire December 1816

Prisca Hawthorne was fairly certain Bedlam was in her future. Still, she couldn't help herself. She had to leave, to see if her wolf had returned. It was a foolish thing to do, Prisca well knew. How many nights had she gone in search of him, only to return home tired and disappointed? Still, something in her soul told her she'd be successful tonight. And she never questioned that feeling; it had always been correct in the past.

She slipped into her long, wool coat as she padded across the cold marble floor. After all, it would be simply foolish to traipse around her property in the middle of night in only her flimsy nightrail. More foolish than searching for an elusive wolf.

Prisca pushed open the double glass doors that led to the veranda. The frosty winter wind swirled around her, lifting the edge of her coat and making her shiver. This was surely madness.

She quietly closed the doors behind her and rushed across the veranda, down the stone steps, and out toward her garden. The moon was full tonight, lighting her way, which made her smile. He only came to her when the moon was full. She sped up her pace.

The garden was not in bloom this time of year, but the hedgerows and topiaries still kept their form. Prisca pressed forward down the path, first around one hedge and then around another.

She spotted him and stopped in her tracks.

He

had

come.

Standing in a shaft of moonlight, the wolf seemed to be waiting for her. Prisca's heart pounded out a familiar beat, and anticipation coursed through her veins. He was still the most magnificent creature she'd ever seen, with his regal black coat, icy blue eyes, and proud stature.

If anyone else had seen her approach the dangerous creature, her conveyance to Bedlam would have been summoned immediately. But she knew from their past encounters that he was, if not tame, of no risk to her.

She was the only one who'd ever seen the wolf. At times, she doubted he was real. In fact, it seemed like a lifetime since she'd seem him last.

Prisca smiled at the beast and stepped forward. "There you are. I didn't know if I'd see you again."

She sat on a stone bench and patted the space beside her.

The wolf appeared to heave a sigh, though that seemed an odd thing for him to do. Then he slowly walked toward her. He stopped before her feet, peered up at her with his cool blue eyes, and rested his head in her lap.

Prisca stroked his coarse black fur and closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of him. There was something so familiar, so comforting in the animal. Which was why she could never tell anyone about him; they'd all think she had lost her mind.

The wolf pressed closer to her, and Prisca laughed. "I missed you, too. You should visit me more often. You could even stay here," she suggested. Wouldn't all of Hampshire faint if they discovered she kept a wolf for a pet? "I'd take good care of you."

The wolf closed his eyes, and Prisca scratched behind his ears. She told him all about her brothers and the goings-on around their village, just like she always had whenever he visited her. All the while, the wolf enjoyed her ministrations and seemed content to stay there forever.

Suddenly, he lifted his head with a jolt, looked her straight in the eyes, and ran out of the garden and into a copse of trees at the edge of the property as though he'd been summoned by some invisible force. It happened so fast that Prisca couldn't even call out for him to wait.

She sighed in defeat, wondering how long it would be until she saw him again.

***

Emory Hawthorne sank down into a chair at the breakfast table and stifled a yawn. He glanced around at the other places at the table and discovered the eyes of his four younger brothers all focused on him, which was a bit unnerving. How unusual for any one thing to capture the interest of each Hawthorne brother at the same time. Emory scrubbed a hand across his face. Had he neglected to shave this morning? Or were his eyes red-rimmed? Or his cravat uncharacteristically wrinkled?

What the hell were they looking at?

"Well?" Pierce began, his dark brow raised in question.

Emory frowned at the brother closest to his own age. What the devil was going on? "I beg your pardon."

"You're the only one who still lives here," Garrick informed him, as though Emory might be unaware of the circumstances of his own residence.

"And by God, you were supposed to keep the rest of us informed." Darius folded his arms across his chest.

No question about it, Emory was definitely missing something. Had the others been this mysterious when they'd all lived together? He couldn't quite remember that far back, at least not this early in the morning. Life was fairly peaceful without his brothers, however. As it was, only their father and Prisca still remained at Langley Downs…

Then it hit him.

Prisca.

This inquisition was about their sister.

"Ah, the light finally dawns." Garrick, the vicar, leaned forward in his seat. "What

is

Prissy's status?"

Emory groaned. He wished he knew the answer to that question. He really, truly did. He'd labored over such ponderings on too many sleepless nights. "You know as much as I do," he admitted, then winced a bit when four sets of brotherly eyes narrowed on him. But what was he to say? Lying wouldn't do any good.

"Oh, for the love of God, Emory!" Darius growled.