Transformed By A Christmas Star: A Lords of the Night novella

by Sandra Sookoo

  “To a place you refuse to say.” There was nothing in his tone or expression that gave away his thoughts.

  “Yes.” Estelle met his gaze and didn’t waver. “I have my reasons, and I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  “Fair enough. Trust is a commodity that is rare with me.” He nodded, and when another shiver moved through her and his gaze dropped once more to her breasts, he whipped off his greatcoat. “Here.” He shoved the garment into her hands. “Wrap up. You are the height of scandal just now, and cold besides.”

  Could he read minds? Estelle glanced sharply at him while she slid her arms through the sleeves of his coat. “Do humans not value their forms or wish to dress them in pretty garments to show them off?” In that, the stars were vastly superior for all of them—males and females alike—donned shimmery, sparkling things that increased their shine and light.

  Then a foreign scent that clung to his coat assailed her nose, and she took a deeper sniff. What was that heavenly smell? Estelle burrowed into the coat and held the lapels close to her face. Limes and sugar and… a spicier scent she couldn’t name.

  This is something that stars don’t possess and it’s wonderful!

  Sebastian uttered a sound suspiciously like a growl as he gazed at her. “Come on.” His voice was rough, animalistic, and the hairs on her nape quivered.

  “Where?” She became aware of a biting, penetrating pain in her feet. Why was she so cold? “To your home?”

  He snorted. “I have rooms in a bachelor lodging not far from Mayfair. If I took you there, we’d both be in the drink.” Swiftly, the man stepped closer to her. “Bloody hell, woman, you must have a care.” He worked the buttons on the coat, which enveloped her in warmth and the scent that clung to the fabric.

  “Oh.” Estelle stared into his face, but his eyes were downcast as he concentrated on his work. The dark arc of his lashes lay against his pale cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip to stifle a sigh of pure appreciation. “I thank you for your kind regard,” she whispered. For the first time, someone was taking care of her as if she mattered as an individual instead of a number in a collective. I rather like this.

  “It is what any gentleman would do, even those of us who have forgotten what it is to be just that,” he said, and there was a fair amount of bitterness clinging to the words. He raised his gaze and held hers. “I’ll take you to the one person I know who can help us both.”

  She sucked in a breath. The sensation of weakness assailed her and her knees wobbled. “You are hunted, too?” she asked in a tiny voice as her vision blurred.

  “That depends on the day.” He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by ‘too’?”

  “I spoke out of turn.” Why did her voice sound so far away? And why did her head feel so fuzzy?

  “Oh, damn.” In one movement, he caught her as she crumpled, and he scooped her into his arms, cradling her to the hard wall of his broad chest. “I’m taking you to the Duke of Manchester—my half-brother.”

  Why did he sound so glum about it? She couldn’t spare the effort to think, for the strength left her, and as she gave into a particularly large shiver, she went pliant in his oddly comforting arms.

  CHAPTER THREE

  For the first time in his life, Sebastian was conflicted—gripped really—over something that had nothing to do with his own problems. He glanced down at the woman in his arms and his chest seized with a foreign feeling.

  Am I now responsible for her?

  That depends, human. You cannot scoop strange women up and suddenly bring them home to care for. Unless you wish to make her your plaything.

  Truly, his wolf was trying his patience, and that was already razor thin as it was.

  He chose to ignore the beast’s words, which was good because Estelle stirred in his hold. Her eyelids fluttered open and she sought his gaze with hers. The silvery-gray depths of her eyes kept him captive for more seconds than he’d like to admit.

  “Are you ill, Miss Forbes?” he asked in hushed tones as he turned them about in an effort to exit the park. “Perhaps you require the services of a doctor instead of my brother’s home.” The errand would take him out of his way and far from his plans, but if it would save her life…

  Weak, his wolf chuffed out. You are so very weak, and at the first glance at a pretty face. Disgust dripped from his tones.

  “No, not ill exactly,” she replied in a melodic voice that might have been angel song in different circumstances. Sebastian could listen to her talk all day and not grow bored. Her eyelashes fluttered. “But I am extremely tired. I didn’t realize how much effort it took to complete the fall.” The last was said in a breathless way as if the whole incident both fascinated and vexed her.

  There it was again, her insistence that she’d fallen. But from where and how? He frowned, and before he could speak, she cut him off.

  “You shouldn’t do that.”

  “Do what?” Perhaps her brain was merely addled and she wasn’t all there in her upper stories. That would explain much.

  A tiny sigh escaped her. “Frown. You are much more handsome when you smile.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say.” For the first time in years, he was nonplussed. No amount of his inherent charm or charisma would come to his aid. So he cleared his throat and continued to peruse her person, careful to keep his desire-hungry gaze from any part of her that might inflame the situation. Thank God his coat covered most of her. “Where the devil are your slippers?”

  She shot him a blank look. “I’m not certain. Perhaps they were lost in the fall, or perhaps the Council didn’t have time to fashion me any.”

  Hell’s bells. What sort of female was she, blathering on about nonsensical things?

  “Every time you speak, you offer me more questions than answers, Miss Forbes,” he said from around gritted teeth. “I’m not sure that I like it.”

  “Have you not ever gazed upon the heavens and wondered about the stars, Sebastian?” she questioned in her soft, breathy voice that had his groin hardening as he thought about what she’d say to him in the morning after a long night of lovemaking. “Perhaps those musings would serve you well now.” With another sigh, she closed her eyes and sagged in his hold.

  No matter who she was or where she’d come from, he knew one thing above all others—he didn’t want her to die. “Hang on a little while longer, Estelle,” he whispered into her ear as he increased his strides and left the park. Having her near him at such close range, he discerned a subtle sparkle on her faintly flushed cheeks. Though her weight was slight, with his wolfish strength, carrying her wouldn’t become a problem.

  And even more troubling, she felt right in his arms, as if she’d always been meant to be there.

  Fancy and musings, nothing more. This night has been the height of trying.

  The beast rolled his eyes. Promise me you won’t give into the flawed thinking of your species and want this bit of muslin for more than a quick rut and toss. You are not a marriage-minded lord. We are not destined for such an anchor around our necks. His wolf’s words were clipped and cold, ringing through his head like a death knoll.

  Sebastian kept his thoughts to himself. Why had she mentioned the stars? How could she have known that as soon as he’d glimpsed the trail of light streaking across the sky he’d made a foolish Christmastide wish? The muscles of his stomach knotted. Surely she couldn’t be the answer to such a cavalier prayer, could she?

  I know nothing about her.

  He blew out a breath as he ran through the near-empty streets of Mayfair. Occasionally, someone would glance his way with speculation or consternation in their stares, but he ignored them in favor of keeping his thoughts on the woman cradled in his arms. Perhaps I don’t need to know anything additional. She’d obviously fallen upon hard times; that could be the fall she kept referring to, and the cold could have confused her.

  Whatever the reason, he would not give into his savage side like had happened so many times in his past, whic
h had terrified the women he’d partnered. This female was different, and he rather liked that. Could she look past what he was deep inside, what he had no choice except to become, and see him for the man that he was?

  He arrived at Manchester’s townhouse in short order. Nothing had changed in that quarter. All the lights still blazed with merry, golden light, and despite the society event currently playing out inside, Sebastian bounded onto the stoop, juggled the burden in his arms, and then rained a few hard knocks upon the door. “Let me in, I say. This is an emergency!” Another couple of knocks followed the command.

  Seconds later, a man of indeterminate years, dressed in an austere black suit and highly starched collar and cravat, opened the door. “I’m afraid the duke and duchess are not receiving tonight unless you have an invitation.” He swept his gaze over Sebastian’s face, looked down his hawk-like nose at Estelle in a dead faint in his arms, and harrumphed. “Be on your way. We’ll have no truck with trouble.”

  Threads of hot anger lit through his veins at the obvious dismissal. “Look here, you bastard. This woman requires medical assistance.”

  The butler wasn’t moved. “This is a private residence, not a home for wayward women or homeless waifs such as yourself.”

  Tear out his throat, his wolf urged with a snarl.

  Do shut up, he told his beast in no uncertain terms. Everything in life doesn’t need answered with violence and blood. Sebastian took a deep breath. He eased it out from between his teeth. “Please, I beg of you, allow us entry. On my nightly walk through Hyde Park, I happened upon this woman, and I don’t know what is wrong with her. I only wish to see her into the care of someone who can help.” He met the butler’s doubting gaze head-on. “Tell Manchester…” He forced a swallow, but his pride had to fall. “Tell the duke that his half-brother is here to see him.”

  The other man’s shaggy salt-and-pepper eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Again he swept his gaze over Sebastian’s face, scrutinizing the features. Then he nodded, apparently satisfied. “Come with me.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he breathed and followed the butler through a lavish entry hall and into a small parlor off that corridor. Obviously, he wasn’t trusted with a more lavish receiving room deeper into the townhouse, but this was a better boon than nothing.

  “I shall return with the duke presently,” the butler intoned, and there was a trace of excitement in his voice as he vanished from the room.

  “Please hold on,” Sebastian told Estelle as he laid her upon a low-backed sofa of mauve crushed velvet. She didn’t glimmer as much as she had when he’d first found her. Did that mean she was in dire straits now? Was she going to die? Cold sadness stabbed through his chest. She really had been a beautiful bit of unusual magic with all the snow around her and the moonlight shining down.

  He scoffed at his own thoughts. Magic indeed. The only sort he’d had cause to witness was the dark kind that made him shift into the beast. All the same, he wished he had cause to believe in something good.

  Inside his head, his wolf snorted. Listen to you. She is a nobody, a vagrant, a light-skirt in borrowed clothing. No doubt she’s riddled with disease and is looking for coin. Leave her here and be on your way.

  The longer Sebastian stared at her while rubbing one of her hands in the attempt to bring life and warmth back to that extremity, the more he doubted that story. No. There is more to her than she’s telling. I want to know what it is and why she cannot tell me.

  The sound of fabric swishing at the door brought his attention away from Estelle. Slowly, Sebastian stood as two couples dressed in society finery entered the parlor. His nerves crawled as anxiety pushed through his being, and all he could do was stare at the newcomers, the duke especially.

  Will he throw me out in the street for such effrontery?

  His wolf didn’t deign to answer.

  “What is the meaning of this?” The man who could only be the Duke of Manchester demanded, all flashing amber eyes and brown hair longer than fashion dictated. The strands hung nearly to his shoulders and gave him a wild, devil-may-care appearance, but there was a softness at the backs of his eyes that belied the gruff expression. In them, Sebastian caught a glimpse of himself, for the eyes were the same. “My butler said you are my half-brother and that you’d brought a prostitute into my home.” The words, couched in a low-modulated manner, brimmed with command.

  Even as anger skittered through Sebastian’s person, his animal half recognized an alpha wolf. His beast whined inside his held and knelt down, nose to the ground. Sebastian sucked in a breath. He retreated a step from this man who exuded strength and power more than a typical duke. For Estelle he had to ignore his own fears. So he stopped his flight, squared his shoulders, and straightened his spine. He held his ground with an uplifted chin and a glare. He was not less than this man simply due to birth circumstances. The same blood ran in their veins.

  “I came upon this woman in Hyde Park. She required immediate assistance, so I rendered it, and when I determined her needs were greater than what I could give, I brought her here.”

  “To me.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes.”

  “What the devil is she dressed in?” Manchester took a few steps toward her, peering down at her recumbent form as the hem of the sparkling garment peeked out from beneath the great coat.

  “I couldn’t say.” As threads of jealousy banded through his chest, his figurative hackles rose. He flicked his attention to Estelle. “I am hoping you can help her—help us.”

  “With different problems I would imagine,” the duke continued. He looked at Estelle, his gaze hard and unyielding, but when he glanced at the woman in pale blue by his side, it softened into blatant adoration that sent confusion through Sebastian. “Alice, will you and Elizabeth tend to her? If anyone in London can nurse her back to health, the two of you can.”

  “Of course,” the brunette murmured with a smile that conveyed both peace and heat. She looked at Sebastian but didn’t focus on him. “Since my husband has grown lax in his manners, welcome to our home. I’m the Duchess of Manchester, but I implore you to call me Alice, since we are apparently family.”

  “Alice.” A hint of an exasperated whine had set up in the duke’s voice. “It is much too early in this conversation for such assumptions.”

  She merely smiled and glided over the Aubusson carpet to the sofa where Estelle lay.

  The other woman, with dark brown hair, bounced her gaze between him and the duke, assessment roiling through her expression. Then she shrugged and joined the duchess.

  All the while, the second man stood silently near the doorway, his arms crossed, a shoulder leaning casually against the frame.

  Who were these superfluous people? Sebastian’s pulse pounded heavily in his temples. He was loath to relinquish care of Estelle to strangers, but he couldn’t help her on his own. He cleared his throat. “Manchester, I—”

  The duke cut him off with an imperious wave of a hand. “Why did you bring her here?”

  “You were the only person I could think of that might have enough power and influence to make things right, perhaps smooth her way when she recovers.” It was a lie and they both knew it, yet they remained staring warily at each other. Though he’d come to say his peace to his half-brother, now was not the time.

  “Speak, man. You may not be afforded a second chance to have my ear,” Manchester continued, his voice reverberating through the air.

  God, could the man act more of a prick? His chest was tight with annoyance and worry, but he squelched the urge to shift and challenge him for dominance. Estelle needed medical attention more than his pride needed the fight. “I am Sir Sebastian Sutcliffe, Baron Wimsley.” He took a deep breath and let it ease out slowly. “What I told your butler was true. I am your half-brother; your father’s illegitimate son.”

  Silence reigned in the room as every person, with the exception of Estelle, stared at him with varying degrees of interest or suspicion.

/>   Heat crept up the back of Sebastian’s neck. He resisted the want to tug on his suddenly too-tight cravat. As the duke bristled, denial clearly stamped upon his face, Sebastian held up a hand. “It is a long, convoluted tale that needs telling at a later time.” He slid his gaze to Estelle and his heart thudded hard behind his ribcage. She needs me. No one had ever truly needed him before. No matter what, he’d stay by her side until she bade him to leave. “Miss Forbes has my immediate concern.”

  The duke’s eyes narrowed. He looked between him and Estelle, then shot a glance to the man in the doorway, who shrugged. When he swung his regard back, he said, “Is she close to you?”

  Unaccountably, a wave of protectiveness surged through Sebastian’s being. “As I said, I found her directly after following a shooting star.” Renewed heat crawled up his neck and into his ears. “I’m afraid I gave into a bit of folly, for I wanted to find the star, especially when it appeared to have crashed into the earth.” I sound like a proper nodcock.

  Everyone exchanged glances that ranged from astonishment to cautious hope. Why?

  The woman who’d yet to introduce herself, looked into Estelle’s face from her position kneeling beside the sofa. “Is it possible that there are more otherworldly beings than you boys?”

  Sebastian caught his breath. Did she refer to the duke and himself, or were there other matters at play? He wanted so much to ask a bevy of questions, but his tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth.

  “I wonder,” the duchess said quietly. Her eyes shone as she looked at the man still standing in the doorway. “Rafe, please carry our guest abovestairs to one of the open bedrooms.” With grace and elegance, the duchess stood. “For the time being, she will remain here until we have her story and can offer assistance properly.”

  If they whisked her away, would he ever see her again? “Wait, I—”

  The duke put a halt to Sebastian’s protest. “Let them go. The woman is in the best place she can be.” His hard gaze bore into him. “In the meantime, come with me.” While the man lifted Estelle into his arms and left the room, quickly followed by the two women, the duke led Sebastian through the corridors and into a study. A fire danced merrily behind an ornate grate and provided much-needed warmth to the room. Manchester pointed to a leather-bound chair that faced a massive desk. “Explain.” He then sat himself behind the imposing piece of furniture.