Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

"Langley Downs," Simon instructed him.

He had a good twenty minutes before he reached the Hawthornes' estate, and he leaned his head back against the squabs, closing his eyes. Lily hadn't made any comments about wanting to marry him, just that she didn't want him to send her away. Everything would be fine, if he could just see her again.

When he arrived at Langley Downs, Simon nearly bowled the old butler over on his way inside. "Y-your Grace," the man stuttered, righting himself.

"I'd like to see Miss Rutledge," Simon announced.

The butler shook his head. "Miss Rutledge and Miss Hawthorne are preparing for the ball. Would you like to wait for them in the parlor?"

He'd like to stomp right up the Hawthornes' stairs, knock down Prisca's door, and throw Lily over his shoulder… Though he didn't really have a choice. "The parlor?"

The Hawthornes' butler nodded. "We have a full house today, Your Grace."

"Indeed?" Simon soon found himself at the threshold of Langley Downs' yellow parlor. One, two, three, four… Every Hawthorne brother was in attendance, save one. "Where's Blaine?" he asked in way of greeting.

Emory looked up from his perusal of

The Times. "Stil

l at Cambridge. How are you, Simon?" He stood, crossed the room, and offered his hand, which Simon clasped.

Every other Hawthorne brother offered his welcome and then went back to his previous activity. Garrick and Pierce returned to their game of chess, and Darius focused his attention on a piece of foolscap.

"Brandy?" Emory asked him, as he headed for a decanter.

Simon nodded. What were they all doing here? Emory was generally the only one in residence. "What brought everyone home?"

Emory handed him a tumbler and shrugged. "Prisca, it seems, is intent on finding a husband for your Miss Rutledge, and she thought to start with us."

Simon nearly broke the glass in his hands. He had to rein in his control to keep from doing so. "She what?"

Emory smiled. "Did you really bestow a grotesquely large dowry on the chit? That doesn't seem like you."

They'd never discussed amounts. Although Lily said she wouldn't accept even a farthing from him. Simon's vision got bleary. Lily wouldn't do this. How many times had she told him she wanted to stay?

"You all right, Blackmoor?" Emory asked, concern in his voice.

Simon nodded. "I'm, uh, just surprised she told anyone, is all." Why would she have told Prisca Hawthorne, of all people? He would strangle any Hawthorne brother who thought he could take Lily from him.

"So it is true?"

"I said it, yes." Could he take it back? March up the stairs and demand she forget any man except him? That idea had promise. "I would like to see Miss Rutledge."

Emory smirked. "Good luck with that. Prisca said they'll be down when they're ready and not a moment before."

Sixteen

Simon's breath whooshed from his lungs. Dear God! Was

that

Lily?

Lily wore an exquisite green gown that accentuated curves she generally kept hidden. Her pretty auburn locks were loosely piled on her head, adorned with tiny gold roses. Though she was gorgeous, Simon wanted nothing better than to strip her bare and remove every blasted rose.

When she saw him, her face lit up, and Simon couldn't help but grin like a fool.

"Simon," she whispered.

He was before her in less than a heartbeat. Two days without her was too long. "Lily."

She blushed, and he felt his heart expand. Was there a way to forgo this stupid ball?

"I wish there was a way I could speak with you privately, Lily," Simon said quietly as he looked at her. He wanted to offer his plan to her before the ball, so he could get this unbearable burden lifted from his chest. Simon glanced around. There wasn't a quiet corner available, anywhere. "Might we take a walk in the garden?" Simon held out his arm to her. Her smile warmed his heart.

"I'm not sure that would be quite proper," Lily hedged, throwing a glance at Prisca and raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Of course you can take a walk in the garden together. The man is giving you a dowry so you can find a husband. I feel certain he has no designs upon your person," Prisca responded. Her violet eyes twinkled.

Simon tugged Lily's hand until they were out of the manor and alone on the garden path. The scent of roses hung in the air. But nothing smelled as delectable as she did. "I've missed you," he said as he pulled her gently beneath the arbor and wrapped his arms around her.

"Really?" she asked quietly.

Simon gently and tenderly touched his lips to hers. Despite the waning of the moon, he was fully and completely in control of the beast. Where he could not have been gentle with her yesterday, he could be today.

She immediately softened in his arms and pressed her length against his. He fought back a groan as he set her away from him. He needed to tell her of his plan.

"I think I have come up with a solution to our problems, Lily."

"You plan to send Oliver back home with me after all?" Her face lit with hope.

Simon winced. "No. That's not something I can offer you. I need for him to be with me. It's complicated, and it's something I can't explain."

"Yet you expect me to accept it with grace?" she asked, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

"I think the solution I want to propose to you will make you very happy." He took both her hands in his and held them close to his heart.

"You want to be close to Oliver," he started. She nodded.

"I want to be close to you," he continued.

She smiled.

"I cannot offer you marriage because of my… lifestyle."

She frowned. Oh, this was going poorly.

"Your lifestyle, Simon?"

"Yes. I need to maintain the lifestyle to which I'm accustomed." He held tighter to her fingers when she tried to jerk them from his grasp.

He took one large breath of air and said, all at once, "I want to set you up in a small house nearby so that I can see you when I'm available and you can see Oliver as often as you like because you would be nearby."

"What?" she asked.

Oh, he really didn't want to repeat it. It was hard enough to say the first time. "What part did you miss?"

She finally succeeded in tugging her hands from his grasp and backed away from him warily. Then she began to pace.

"Let me be sure I understand you, Simon. You want to make me your mistress?" Her eyes flashed. Her face reddened.

This was not going well at all.

"No." He took a step toward her. "Not a mistress. Not really," he added.

"Simon, you want to put me in a house." She began to tick items off with her fingers. "Pay my bills, I assume?" She arched her eyebrows in question.

He nodded. "Of course."

She ticked a third finger. "Let me see Oliver when I wish."

"Within certain boundaries, yes."

"And you and I would have relations of a sort." She added another finger.

He groaned, lust immediately encompassing his brain, and took a step toward her. "Of course."

She stepped back.

"That, Simon, is a mistress. And do you know what I'll do? I believe I will take you up on your offer."

He smiled and reached for her.

"Your offer to provide me with a dowry, that is. So that I can find a husband." Her voice grew louder and louder. "You

will

honor the offer you made to me of a dowry." She shook her finger at him. "You

will

honor that offer, and I

will

accept. Because I will

not

be any man's mistress, not even yours."

She stomped past him, her green dress lifting in her wake. He chased after her, but she slammed the door in his face. By the time he caught her, she was ten steps from the parlor. She stepped around Will, who had finally arrived, without sparing Simon more than a glance.