Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

While she waited, she and Findley had searched the entire residence. Not even the smallest wardrobe was left unsearched. Oliver was nowhere to be found.

Now she didn't know what to do to keep busy. Where else would he have gone? Was he hurt somewhere? Had something happened to him? She'd never forgive herself if he came to harm.

And then there was Simon. Shouldn't

he

have returned by now? Not that she was worried about his safety. Simon was indestructible, or at least he seemed that way to her. Hard. Solid. Strong. She so wished he was there. His presence would calm her. She wouldn't feel quite so alone.

Lily returned to her old chambers. It felt odd being here again, like a glance into the recent past. So much had changed since she'd left Maberley Hall. Her journey certainly had turned into something she had never envisioned.

She ran her hand over her old comfortable counterpane, while looking out the window at the drenched grounds beneath her. Thank heavens, it had stopped raining. Hopefully, that meant Simon would return soon, and together they could decide where to go from here. She would go mad if she had to figure this out alone.

Movement caught her eye off in the distance, and Lily pressed her fingers against the cool pane of glass. She strained her eyes. It looked like two riders, but from where she stood, she couldn't be certain. Glued to her spot, she watched as the figures came nearer. As soon as she noticed Simon's distinctive build, she raced from the room, through the corridor, and down the grand staircase.

Overjoyed, she didn't stop. Lily tore from the house, leaving a gaping Findley in her wake. She ran down the stone path toward the stables, reaching it right as Simon and Oliver rode up.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and relief engulfed her at the sight of her nephew. Lily closed her eyes and silently thanked God for keeping him safe. "Oliver," she cried as he dismounted.

He hung his head and shuffled his feet. "Sorry, Aunt Lily. I didn't mean to worry you."

She threw her arms around his neck. The last of her composure fell away. Holding him, her heart overflowed. It wasn't her imagination. He was before her and safe and… Lily owed Simon everything for finding him.

Her eyes flashed to her husband's. Drenched and scruffy, Simon was a complete mess, but she'd never seen a more handsome man. He barely inclined his head in greeting before he dismounted his chestnut stallion.

She pulled back from Oliver, shaking her head at him. "Don't you ever do something that foolish again. It nearly killed me."

He nodded, his brown eyes drooping like those of a scolded puppy. "I know, Aunt Lily. I'm sorry."

She hugged him again. "I'm so glad you're safe." She felt a large, familiar hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure Maberley has learned his lesson, love."

Lily drew back from Oliver and threw her arms around Simon's neck. He was sodden from head to foot, and the wetness seeped into her clothes and against her skin. Lily didn't care. "Oh, thank you, Simon, for finding him."

He chuckled against her neck. "Lily, you'll catch the ague if you don't let go of me."

She leapt away from him as if he was on fire. "Oh! You'll be sick. Let's get you out of those clothes."

"That's the best idea I've heard today." His husky voice rumbled over her, causing her cheeks to burn.

Honestly, did the man only ever think about one thing?

Thirty-Three

Simon decided he enjoyed married life quite a bit. He'd always been so solitary; he hadn't thought he'd like a woman fussing over him.

But he did.

Lily clasped his hand and towed him up the stony path. "You look like you fell in a lake, Simon. I wonder if I shouldn't send for Doctor Sanders."

He held his smile in check. "There's no need for a doctor, Lily. I'm fine."

"But you were gone so long, and there was so much rain. Now I feel guilty. I was thinking while you were away that there was no reason to worry about you as you seem so indestructible, but now…"

"Now?" he prompted, trying to keep the merriment from his voice.

"Seeing you in such a state, I… Well, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

Simon stopped on the path, pulling Lily back to him. "Nothing is going to happen to me."

She was so adorable when she worried about him.

Her nose scrunched up a bit, and her brow creased with concern, with love. It warmed his heart.

"Simon," she began softly, blinking her pretty hazel eyes at him. "Aside from Oliver, I've lost everyone I have ever cared about. I don't intend to lose you, too. Now get inside the house, and take off these clothes." She tugged on his greatcoat for emphasis.

Once they entered the manor house, she asked Findley to ready Maberley's largest chamber for him and ordered a hot bath to be sent up as well.

"Yes, Your Grace," the butler replied evenly. "I took the liberty of preparing the late earl's chamber for the duke and the countess' chamber for you."

Lily shook her head at that. "Findley, that isn't necessary. I can stay in my old room for a night."

It was necessary, however, in Simon's mind. The earl and countess' chambers connected, and he had no intention of being separated from his bride. He cleared his throat. "Love, Findley had the right of it."

"Are we only staying one night?" Oliver asked from behind them.

Simon nodded. "Indeed. Take the opportunity to get whatever you'd like to have with you at Westfield Hall, anything you might have left behind."

"Of course, Your Grace," the boy said with more respect than he'd shown thus far. Then he bounded up the staircase.

The tone caught Lily's notice, and she glanced up at Simon. "What was that about?"

He feigned ignorance and shrugged. After all, he couldn't give her any details.

Lily's eyes narrowed on him.

"Aren't you going to show me to my chambers, love?" he asked, offering her his arm.

She took it but frowned slightly. "Simon Westfield, what exactly are you trying to hide from me?" Lily asked as she led him up the stairs. "And why are you drenched and Oliver dry as a bone? Where was he? What happened with the two of you? And why—"

Simon couldn't help but laugh. "Lily, have you ever heard the term 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth'?"

She stopped at the top of the stairs. "Of course I have, but I don't see how that is fitting in this situation."

He prodded her along. "You wanted Oliver found. I did so. You wanted me to take an interest in the boy, and I've done so. You wanted Oliver to accept our marriage, and now he has. Simply smile and say, 'Thank you, Simon.'"

Lily directed him toward the master's chambers. "I am happy, Simon. Thank you, but—"

"It's this door, isn't it?" Simon asked, hoping to distract her.

She nodded, "Simon—"

He silenced her by pulling her against him and wrapping his cold, wet arms around her. "I don't have my valet, Lily. Can I beg you to help me out of these clothes?"

She blushed, smiling up at him. Finally, he had her attention where he wanted it.

"Simon, I'm certain you can manage that all on your own."

"Yes, but it would be much more enjoyable with your assistance," he whispered, as he opened the door to the suite of rooms.

Then someone coughed delicately behind them. Simon looked over his shoulder to find Findley's eyes on Lily. "Your Grace," the butler said to her. "We weren't expecting you, and Cook needs to begin preparing dinner. Could you please come see her about the menu?"

Lily slid from Simon's arms. "Yes, of course, Findley." She threw a glance back at Simon as she followed the butler down the corridor.

***

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!

Lily frowned. Something was wrong. Something had happened, and Simon was trying to keep it from her. What was it?