Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Tired, sore, and… foolish. "Um, fine. You?"

He drew his legs from the edge of her bed and rose from his seat. The frown she'd grown so accustomed to over the last day was once again in place. "Miss Rutledge, er—Lily." He cleared his throat and began to pace around the small room. "I spent half the night thinking about your predicament."

It was about time. Lily smiled at him, relieved he wasn't the beast she'd thought for so long. "I do hope, once you see Oliver, you'll have some idea what to do. I didn't know who else to turn to, and—"

Blackmoor shook his head. "No, no. I'm certain the boy will do fine at Westfield Hall. What I meant to say, Lily, is that I greatly appreciate all you've done for Oliver. Daniel wasn't just my cousin. He was my closest friend. I should have been more involved with his son before now."

An uneasy feeling washed over Lily, and she leaned forward, not wanting to misconstrue what he was saying.

"In any event, I feel I owe you for your time and dedication to the boy. You say you haven't got a dowry, and… Well, I'd be happy to supply you with one. You've certainly earned it—"

Lily leapt off the bed, and he stopped in his tracks. "How dare you?" she fumed, stalking toward him. He was large and intimidating, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. "Emma was my sister, and I've raised that boy. He's like a son to me. You can't take him from me. I won't let you."

Blackmoor stepped backward, surprise in his grey eyes. "If you'll just listen to reason—"

"Do you think I'm looking for compensation? Do you think I've been caring for him in hopes that you'd offer me a dowry? Do you honestly think I can be bought, Your Grace? I love that child, and I wouldn't take one farthing from you."

His face contorted to a dark scowl, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "There are things you don't understand, Miss Rutledge. Things you don't

want

to understand. Now allow me to help you, and—"

Before she even knew what she was doing, Lily raised her hand, pulled it back, and slapped him across his stubbly cheek. The sound reverberated around the room.

Oh, the man had a hard head. But he accepted the blow with dignity, as a man of his station would be expected to do. He barely turned his face. But his nostrils moved in and out as he breathed heavily through his nose.

Then he stepped toward her.

She took one step back.

He stepped closer, his eyes dark and brooding.

Lily found herself out of room to maneuver when her legs hit the side of the bed. But she refused to be cowed. Not by this man or any other. She lifted one pointed finger and poked it into his chest. Then poked it again. He didn't take his eyes from her face.

"You will not take him from me. You simply can't," she said as a lone tear escaped and ran down her cheek, her voice cracking despite her intention to show bravery.

"Would that I could leave him with you, Miss Rutledge," he murmured softly, wiping the tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. "I have not set out to hurt you, despite the fact that it's the unfortunate outcome. I wish that I could take it all away."

"By taking Oliver from me?" she asked. "You're taking away my

life

." She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tried to shake the nearly unmovable man. All she succeeded in doing was tugging his clothing, like a silly child.

The duke took her hands in his, lifted them to his mouth, kissed her bare knuckles, and stepped away from her. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Lily could do no more than drop to the bed, lower her face to her hands, and sob.

***

Simon sank into a seat in the back of the taproom. Thunder rumbled in the distance, matching his mood. When he'd offered Lily a dowry, he'd truly meant to help her. She'd said she was on the shelf because of her lack of a dowry. Though he couldn't imagine any man not wanting her, even if she was penniless. So, he'd offered to do away with that obstacle, making it easier for her to find a husband to love. Someone decent.

He'd never expected her to become so angry. Or to cry. It had nearly wrenched his heart out when that tear had fallen onto her fair skin.

He was taking Oliver for her own good, so she wouldn't be in danger from a pup who hadn't learned to control his basic instincts. No matter how much Oliver might love her, he needed someone to guide him through these changes. And that someone was him.

He had to push Lily Rutledge far, far away from him. From both of them. If that mean marrying her off, so be it. Though the image of her smiling at someone else, kissing someone else, holding someone else made his stomach tighten.

"You look like a storm cloud," Will said and then plopped himself down in a seat across from Simon.

"I'm in no mood to converse with you, Will." He was in no mood to converse with anyone.

Will leaned back in his chair, studying his older brother. "No, apparently you're simply in the mood to bark at young ladies. Congratulations on that, by the way. Splendid performance. You were perfectly ruthless."

"I was no such thing," he mumbled.

"My room is next to Lily's. It's not as if the walls are thicker than parchment in this place."

Simon closed his eyes, hoping his brother would get tired of pestering him and leave him in peace.

"You can't honestly want to marry her off," Will said quietly.

Simon took a deep breath, rose from his seat, and glowered at his interfering brother. "Go pester someone else."

"You're making a mistake, Simon."

"It's mine to make then, isn't it?" But he wasn't making a mistake. He was doing the right thing, hard as it was. What did Will want from him? "Now go find someone who actually enjoys your company."

Eight

Simon didn't know what was worse, his intense attraction to Lily Rutledge and his inability to act on it, or having her hate him so much. Her feelings about him emanated from her body in great waves as they rode back to Westfield Hall. The blasted rain continued to pour, so he was unable to ride outside the coach. Not that he would if he could, not when Will was so solidly ensconced in the seat beside her.

As they'd left the inn, Lily had grabbed hold of Will's arm, talking animatedly with him. She smiled at Will. She laughed with Will. Yet she continued to ignore Simon. It was as though he no longer existed.

Simon's mood darkened more and more as they rode toward Westfield Hall. Not only did Lily talk to Will, she touched him. She reached out to his brother, pressing her fingers to his arm when she wanted to make a point. The tinkling sound of her laughter was painful to his ears.

To make it even worse, Will ignored him as well. All of his attention was centered on Lily.

Go find someone

who actually enjoys your company

. He could kick himself for saying those words to his brother. Not once did Will look at him and grin. Or tease him unmercifully. Or take his eyes off Lily's delectable form.

When Simon finally got Will alone, he would box his ears. He might not even wait to get him alone. He might have to attack him and rip him limb from limb in the coach. He wondered if he would get blood on Lily if he chose to kill his brother in such close quarters. She probably wouldn't enjoy the sight.

Simon was relieved to find that being around her during the day was getting easier and easier, despite the coming of the full moon. That first day, he'd been ready to take her, even in the broad light of day. But yesterday, when he'd kissed her, he'd been in control of the beast.

Simon could not have been more relieved when the coach finally stopped. Jenkins opened the door, and Simon stepped out, turning to raise a hand to Miss Rutledge. She ignored it and took the driver's offered hand instead. He fought back a groan of displeasure.