Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Oliver slumped back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. Anger rolled off him in waves. "I can protect her from him."

Lily was a saint to have raised this child. She must have the patience of Job, which she could probably use in her role as Simon's duchess. Will sighed, rubbing his brow. "She is his territory, Maberley, and you

will

respect that."

The young earl snorted.

Will narrowed his eyes. "I'm trying to help you, but if you keep up this unwarranted animosity toward Simon, no one will be able to help you."

Oliver glowered back at him. "May I be excused now?"

Will nodded. "Remember what I said."

"How could I forget?" Oliver grumbled as he stormed out of the study.

Will let his head fall backward, and he looked up at the ceiling, vowing to himself never to father a child. He hadn't realized what a trial they could be. Of course, he never spent any time with boys Oliver's age either.

"Your mother is worried about Benjamin," Prisca's melodic voice said from the doorway.

Will instantly rose from his seat at her presence. For some reason, God had cursed him. Every time he saw Prisca, she was more beautiful than the time before. He schooled his features to reveal nothing of his inner torment. "The dolt has apparently been sending Mother multiple letters every week. Then when he holes himself up,"

probably with some buxom widow

, "and doesn't send word, he gets her all upset."

"It is strange," Prisca said, stepping further into the study. "Benjamin is such a regular correspondent. Her Grace says he was going to take a sojourn to Scotland, but none of the letters he sent me mentioned the trip."

Will's blood began to boil. He must have misheard her. "Are you saying

Ben has been writin

g you?" He hoped he'd managed to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"Why shouldn't he?" Prisca clasped her hands behind her back, raising her tempting breasts for Will's perusal. Did she do that intentionally? He believed in his heart that she did such things simply to torture him. "

Ben

has never forgotten me."

"For the love of God, Prissy, I did not forget you."

Her violet eyes pierced him, and he felt it in the depths of his soul. "Then that's worse." She took a steadying breath, never looking away from him. "I won't have this argument again, William. There's no point to it. That's not why I wanted to talk to you anyway."

"What then?" he whispered.

Prisca took a step away from him and began to pace a path in the study. "I find myself worried about Benjamin. I'd talk to Blackmoor, but I believe he'll be occupied with Lily, at least for the next little while. But you…"

"But I what?" he asked, knowing full well what she wanted of him. She wanted him to travel to Scotland, to yank Ben out of whosever bed he was in, and march him back to Hampshire, so she could see he was safe. And, fool that he was, Will was considering it just to see Prissy smile in his direction again.

She stopped mid-pace. "He

is

your brother, William. Aren't you the least concerned?"

He had been a bit concerned, but only a bit, right up until he realized his younger brother had been carrying on a correspondence with Prisca for God knows how long. Now he'd like to get his hands around Ben's neck. Disloyal mutt! "Ben is a grown man. He can take care of himself."

"But what if something's happened to him? It's not like him not to write at all."

Will's vision turned nearly black. Ben had better stay hidden for a very long time, if he knew what was good for him. What was he doing writing to Prissy?

She walked toward him, and, with each step she took, Will's heart pounded faster. Prisca laid her hand on his chest, tilting her head back to look at him. Will's fingers twitched, aching to touch her again.

"Please," she whispered.

Will tightly closed his eyes before opening them again. He was still a bloody fool where she was concerned. He stepped away from her, not able to look upon her any longer. Then he strode out of the library and down the corridor toward the terrace doors.

Billings stopped him before he could make his escape. "Lord William, are you all right? You don't quite look yourself."

Will didn't quite feel like himself either. "Tell His Grace that I've gone to Scotland."

The butler quickly masked his surprise. "Scotland?"

Will nodded tightly. Then he strode out the doors and down the path to the stables before he had the chance to come to his senses. When he found his younger brother, there was a very good possibility that he'd strangle him.

Twenty-Eight

"Billings!" Lily called loudly from Oliver's room.

Simon was already in pursuit of her when he heard her call. He stepped into the room and immediately knew something was amiss. She paced from one side of the room to the other, chewing on her fingernails. Simon crossed the room and plucked her hand from her mouth, then kissed the back of her knuckles.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, his hand trailing up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her. What he really wanted to do was drag her back to bed.

"Simon, Oliver's g-gone," she said. A tear pooled over her lashes and fell onto her cheek.

"I'm sure he's here somewhere," Simon said as he wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. "Don't fret."

Lily thrust a piece of foolscap into his hand. "No, Simon," she nearly wailed. "He's

gone

."

He took the paper from her hand and read it.

Dear Aunt Lily,

Please do not be mad at me. I hate that you married

the duke, but there is nothing I can do about that.

Though I do not have to stay at Westfield Hall and

watch your unholy union. Please be careful. If you ever

got hurt, it would kill me. I love you so much.

Oliver

It was all Simon could do to keep from baring his teeth. The little bugger had turned tail and run. And had the nerve to try one of the oldest tricks in the book. Guilt.

Lily took the paper back from him and asked, "What does he mean by all that, Simon? What does he think is going to happen? Why on earth would he be so distrustful of you? He barely knows you."

Lily resumed her pacing. Simon scratched his jaw and wondered what the best way to answer would be.

Because he's afraid I'll forget how to treat you in a fit of lust

and claim you as a Lycan mate

, he almost said. No. He couldn't say that.

The boy did know how to ruin a perfect day. He'd had Lily under him and planned to do it again before the day was over, but now she was worried about her nephew. She wouldn't stop pacing long enough to look at him, much less let him have his way with her.

Lily wore torment on her face like an uncomfortable mask. "You'll wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up," he said, attempting to lighten the situation.

"Do be quiet, Simon," she snapped, never ceasing her back-and-forth movements across the room. He had to admit he liked the fact she wasn't afraid to stand up to him. She had a strength he would never have expected.

Simon held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Where do you suspect he's gone?" Lily asked, her voice only showing a tiny bit of whininess.

The boy had only lived one place in his whole life. "My guess would be Maberley Hall," Simon answered.

"But that's so far away, and he's all alone!" Lily cried, her voice finally cracking under the strain.

"Don't worry, love. We'll find him," he assured her. And then he was going to kill the troublesome little wolf.

Luckily, Lily let him wrap his arms around her for comfort. Simon held her close, silently vowing to find the young pup and give him a tongue-lashing he would never forget for upsetting his aunt. "We'll go talk to Dorn and see what he knows."