Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

"You make me sound like a monster."

How many times had Simon thought the very thing? "Not a monster, just different."

"But you said it was normal, and now you say it's different."

"Normal for

us,

Oliver. Other people aren't like us, and they can't understand the changes and turmoil. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you sooner. I should have been."

Oliver's expressions danced between relief and anxiety. "Aunt Lily said—"

"Your aunt doesn't know. It needs to stay that way." It was easier to focus on what should be done with Lily when she wasn't in the room, he realized. "In a few days, I'll send her back to Essex, but you'll stay here."

"No!" Oliver shot out of his seat. "If she goes, I do, too."

"You're not the one making decisions, my boy," Simon said calmly, hoping that when the time came, he could let Lily go. It was best for her, regardless of what he wanted for himself. "Your father left me as your guardian because he trusted my judgment. You'll have to do the same."

"I don't want to stay without Aunt Lily."

Neither did Simon.

Eleven

Lily found herself seated between Oliver and Simon at dinner. Her nephew was unusually quiet, and Lily was anxious to talk with him privately. Simon was also quiet, and Lily couldn't keep herself from wanting to see him privately as well. They needed to sort out what was going on between them.

Simon seemed to be clutching her to himself at the same time he was pushing her away. He was a dichotomy. Though she also was having a difficult time coming to terms with her own feelings.

Lily wasn't sure what had come over her in the last few days. Until now, she'd never considered the possibility that she'd find a man she could care for. There hadn't been a point in wishing for something that wasn't likely to happen. However, circumstances had brought her to Simon's door, and Lily had never felt so confused. Her heart seemed to beat only for him, but she wanted much more than he seemed willing to give.

She sent a sideways glance toward Simon, only to find him staring back at her with an intensity that stole her breath. He felt it, too, whatever this was, and she couldn't understand why he wanted to send her away.

Across the table, Will stabbed a carrot on his plate with a frown. "Irritating chit," he grumbled.

Lily furrowed her brow. "I do hope you're not speaking about me, Will."

He looked up from his plate. "Oh, I didn't realize that was aloud. Apologies, Lily."

"What has you so upset?"

"I'm not upset," he snapped.

Simon touched her hand, sending a jolt of awareness through her. "My brother and Miss Hawthorne love to annoy one another. They've been doing so for years. Quite successfully, I might add."

Lily had noticed that. "Why?" she asked innocently.

"Indeed?" Simon quirked a grin at his brother. "William, do tell."

"I'd rather not." Then his icy blue eyes flashed to Lily. "But watch yourself over there tomorrow. She's crafty and—"

Lily giggled. "I hardly think she wants anything from me."

"Where are you going?" Oliver demanded beside her, making Lily jump.

Simon squeezed her hand. "Don't bark at your aunt, boy."

"What do you care? You're the one sending her away."

Lily sucked in a surprised breath. Oliver was getting more belligerent as the days went by. Her sweet nephew would never have said such a thing a few months ago. She slid her hand from Simon's and turned in her chair to focus on Oliver. "I'm only visiting a neighbor's home tomorrow. I'm not leaving."

"But

he

said—" Oliver began, glaring over her shoulder at Simon.

"Nothing's been determined," she assured him. "My place has always been with you, Oliver. I have no intention of leaving you."

"Lily," Simon growled, though he was drowned out by Will's laughter.

"Good for you, Lily. Stand your ground."

Anger rolled off Simon, and Lily turned her head to see him glaring daggers at his brother. "Mind your own affairs."

***

Lily looked at the trunk of clothes lying in the middle of her chamber. Thank heavens, Oliver brought nearly her entire wardrobe with him. She'd been wearing the same two gowns for days and was anxious for a change.

She washed, slid into her yellow cotton nightrail, and closed her eyes. It felt so nice to have the soft material against her skin.

There was a light knock at the door, and Lily slid her arms through the sleeves of her matching robe. She tied the sash around her waist and called brightly, "Come."

Oliver poked his head inside the room, frowning when he saw how she was dressed. "I didn't know you were ready for bed, Aunt Lily. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

She shook her head, walking toward him. "Don't go. I want to know how your conversation with His Grace went."

Oliver opened the door wider and stepped inside. "I don't want to stay here. I want to go back to Maberley Hall with you."

Lily crossed the floor to him and took his hand in hers. "I won't leave without you, Oliver."

"Why does he want you to go? If I have to stay, why can't you stay, too?"

Good questions, ones she would find answers to. Lily led him to a pair of chintz chairs near her window. "Don't worry yourself, dear. I'm certain I can make His Grace see reason." Simon couldn't

really

want her to leave, not with the way he looked at her, the way he touched her.

"I won't stay if he makes you leave," Oliver vowed.

A loud knock sounded on the door, which made Lily nearly jump out of her skin. She patted Oliver's hand and then quickly crossed the room to the door. She pulled it open to find Simon standing on the other side, his grey eyes dark as he took in her state of dishabille.

"You shouldn't have Oliver in here with you."

Lily blinked at him. "I beg your pardon."

"It's too dangerous," he said quietly, before pushing the door wider. "Maberley, it's time for you to retire to your own room."

Oliver frowned. "I'm just talking to my aunt."

"And you can continue your conversation on the morrow. It's late." He inclined his head toward the door, a subtle hint of authority.

But, of course, Oliver balked. Oliver balked if

she

asked him to do something. Of course he would balk if someone else spoke to him with a tone of authority, especially someone with whom he was unfamiliar.

"I'm no longer in leading strings, Blackmoor. I'll decide when I'm ready to go to bed. Right now, I'm speaking with my aunt."

Lily was unable to choke back her gasp. What a disrespectful tone to take with the duke! She covered her mouth and watched Oliver return to his seat in the chintz chair.

Lily raised her finger, planning to scold him, but Simon pushed her hand back down to her side. That made her want to scold Simon as well.

"Oliver, I think you need to apologize to His Grace," she said. Despite the glower her comment received from Simon, she continued, "You may not know him well, but the man is your guardian."

"That doesn't give him the right to order me about," Oliver sniffed.

Simon interrupted his show of obstinacy. "In fact, it gives me the right to do anything I want with you."

Tension nearly crackled in the air as Simon stepped toward Oliver, who merely lifted his nose a few inches and turned his face away from the duke in a supreme show of feigned indifference. Lily knew the boy was anything but indifferent. But it would take much more to win Oliver's confidence.

Unfortunately, Simon didn't appear interested in gaining her nephew's confidence, not in the slightest. The situation reminded Lily of when she was a child and had offered to help the cook by going to the henhouse to collect eggs. Invariably, two of the roosters would begin to fight, each battling for supremacy.