Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep (Werewolf Keep Trilogy)

by Nhys Glover

  Howard was as far away from this man as a donkey was from an Arabian stallion, and even though she hated herself for her disloyalty, the truth remained. Howard had been better off covered, this man was better off uncovered.

  Jasper's other hand, which moments before had closed the door of the drying room, was now lifting her chin so that their gazes met. His eyes were the colour of the summer sky, fringed with dark blond lashes. They were so serious, she wondered if they ever creased at the corners with laughter.

  For an endless moment, it seemed that he was caught in her gaze. Then he was drawing her closer, until his lips were mere inches from her own. She could smell him beneath the fresh scent of washing. And he smelled wild and untamed, and very masculine.

  Without realising what she did, she let out a little gasp, opening her lips. It was all the invitation Jasper needed. His mouth came down on hers, covering it completely. Such soft lips for such a hard man, and yet they claimed hers so tenderly. Fidelia felt light-headed at the touch. This, too, was as different from Howard’s kiss as anything could ever be. Smooth, soft and lush were the words that forced their way into her befuddled mind as he kissed her.

  The sensations that coursed through her body were so exquisite as to seem unreal. His lips were open and invited hers to do the same. It was a strangely vulnerable feeling to open her mouth to another and let his tongue enter her. Like the sexual act, but far less painful; far less embarrassing.

  With that comparison in mind, she felt her thoughts slip away, to be wholly consumed by sensations. Silk and heat and dancing tongues. Breathlessness, weakness in her lower limbs. She was being carried away by wave upon wave of desire. Colours flashed before her eyes. His crinkled blue jacket seemed vivid, his hair gloriously gold. The warm air was heavy with the smell of washing lye and burning coal, yet overlaid by the scent of wildness that was all this man. A rich, sensual, heightened experience washed over her until she never wanted it to stop.

  Abruptly, Jasper pulled back from her and drew in a ragged breath. 'My deepest apologies, madam. I have overstepped the bounds of common decency once more. Please forgive me.'

  If Fidelia could have found her voice, she wouldn’t have known what to say. He was right. He had overstepped the bounds, but she had willingly gone with him. With an excited thrill, she realised that she had experienced her first passionate kiss. It was everything she had ever heard about and more. If this was what Phil felt with her Byron then she could understand why she had so happily settled herself in at Breckenhill Keep as his wife.

  What would deeper intimacies with this man be like if his kiss could affect her so deeply? Her mind shied away from the picture that came to mind. The very idea of being naked with a man was more than she could handle. She had only rarely caught a glimpse of her own body naked. To have it laid bare for this muscular body, so much larger and harder than her own, was terrifying.

  And yet delicious.

  There were sounds coming down the hallway, and in the next moment there were servants in the laundry. The door was open between laundry and drying room, and when the curious servants looked in at them, they hastily moved away from each other and out of the room.

  Jasper was still in stockinged feet and wasn't sure what he could do about it. For him to get home he would need boots, a heavy coat and a horse. None of these items were readily available here. And he knew Byron and the others would be going out of their minds with worry when they discovered his absence.

  'Come to my room, you are too noticeable in your current state of undress.' She hurried ahead of him, ignoring the haughty stares of the ladies and gentlemen they passed on the stairs.

  The recently widowed Lady Montgomery would have her reputation badly damaged by his appearance, Jasper knew, but short of walking out into the snow in his stockinged feet, he could think of no other short-term solution.

  Maude, the old maid, tutted loudly as she saw who followed her mistress into the large, well-appointed suite.

  'Don't take on so, Maude. I found Lord Horton in the laundry.' He noted how she stressed his rank, as if having a peerage excused anything. 'He has found himself in an embarrassing situation and we must do what we can to help.'

  'Where are your things, Lord Horton? We must send for them at once.' She turned to him after the door was closed, using her most proper tone.

  'I am afraid I have nothing else with me, Lady Montgomery. I was ahh... attacked, and left as you found me, late last night. It is pure chance that you were the one to discover me at your door this morning.'

  'Attacked, why that is terrible! And to have taken your cl...possessions …Boots as well. We must send for replacements immediately. Maude, I will need you to go into the township and buy Lord Horton boots – large boots – and a coat and hat suitable to his station. And hire a horse. Would that be sufficient to get you back to Breckenhill Keep?' She looked from her maid to Jasper to check her instructions were suitable.

  'That would be more than sufficient for my needs, Lady Montgomery. I will be forever in your debt,' he replied, using his most formal tones.

  'Nonsense sir, you are a friend of my dearest friend. That makes us friends. And friends help each other when in need. Hurry now, Maude, Lord and Lady Carstairs will be worried.'

  Maude seemed unimpressed by the explanation he had given, but knew her place well enough not to question it. She looked rather less willing to leave her mistress alone with a man, who only the day before had accosted her so roughly.

  'Please, Maude, I will be fine. Get your things, take some money and hurry along now.'

  Maude grudgingly gave way, and within minutes was dressed warmly and on her way out the door.

  After she had left, Fidelia and Jasper stood staring at each other. Having assumed their correct roles in society now, it was hard to put them aside again. Jasper tried to think of some explanation for his plight that sounded more believable.

  'You must think me a madman,' he finally said, after searching in vain for a better excuse.

  'No, unexpectedly, I do not. I believe there is some secret that you and my friend Philomena share, that you feel I am not to be trusted to know. But that does not make you mad, just highly strung with anxieties. I have felt those same anxieties in Phil from the first moment she told me about her new home. It is the reason I came all the way up here to visit. One of the reasons. I was afraid for her.'

  She walked away from him to stand looking out the bay windows that overlooked the street. She saw a rough looking man lounging against a wall across the road, a rifle in his hand. Then she saw the slow progress of poor Maude as she made her way through the light fall of snow. She wasn't up to a task such as she had been set, but she had been unable to come up with a better plan. If she had asked one of the hotel staff to do her bidding, Jasper's lack of apparel and the missing clothes in the drying room would soon have been connected. And both his reputation and her own would have been permanently besmirched. There were too many acquaintances from London in the hotel for it not to get onto the grapevine.

  'It isn't a matter of trust, I do assure you,' Jasper tried to convince her. 'It is just that the truth...is not palatable to a young lady such as yourself. It is for your protection we keep our secrets.'

  'Phil is a young lady too, but she is not thought to be too fragile to know this unpalatable secret.' She knew she sounded like a spoiled child, the absolute opposite impression she wanted to make on the man before her. But she couldn't help feeling hurt.

  'Phil is the heiress to the Keep. And her father kept the secret of it from her for ten years, to protect her. I think there are times when she wishes she never heard of Breckenhill Keep...'

  He was lost in thought for several long moments. Although she couldn’t possible know what troubled him, the depth of his distress concerned her greatly. Fidelia reached across the distance between them and touched his arm in comfort.

  It was enough. Suddenly he was drawing her back into his arms and covering her mouth with desperate
kisses. Like a drowning man clinging to a raft, he held her. And she revelled in it. Whatever the terrible mystery that this man was party to, he needed her. It was in every look and every touch he gave her. Somehow, she would help him because she could sense that no one else could.

  The kisses became more frenzied and Fidelia fought for breath. The tightly tied stays were making it impossible to draw in sufficient air. The crazy thought entered her head that she wanted them gone, wanted everything gone that stood between her and this magnificent man. Yet that was so inappropriate, just as their behaviour now was. What had come over her?

  But whatever it was, she wanted it to go on. This man made her feel truly alive for the first time in her life. When she was with him, her pastel world seemed bright with impossible hues and smelled of a richness that made her mouth water. She was not just hungry, she was ravenous for it all.

  In this moment, she smelled lemon scented furniture polish, the soap that had so recently been used on his clothing, the slight mustiness of a closed up room, wood burning in the fireplace, and most powerful of all, the heady scent of this male, wild and earthy. And she wanted to taste him with her tongue, wanted to draw his scent deep inside her.

  But the deeper she breathed him in, the more painful it became. The stays were strangling her. She started to pull off her coat as the kisses continued. Sensing what she was about, Jasper began to aid her; stripping coat and dress from her feverishly, then turning her around to loosen the ties of the corset. When she could breathe again, she felt the exhilaration of it. To stand before a man in her underclothes, free of restraint, free to be.

  Jasper drew her small breasts up from under the cotton chemise and lavished them with kisses. He drew the straps down from her shoulders and stroked the soft skin of her neck and shoulders with his cheeks. The sharp rasp of unshaved beard felt delightfully painful and she groaned, wanting more.

  Fidelia buried her hands in his long fair hair, golden where hers was ash, and it slipped through her fingers like silk. She had never done such a thing before, never touched a man in such a personal way before. The colours danced before her eyes, intense and sensually evocative. Her heartbeat raced and the sound was deafening, even as she heard every tortured breath the man who held her drew.

  This was Grand Passion. This was what she had always wanted to experience and never thought she would. Never thought she was capable of experiencing. But Jasper was making her only too aware that there was a wildness within her, too; a wildness that was threatening to take her over. And she gloried in every overwhelming moment of it. Wanting more. Wanting him. Wanting that beautiful body she had seen not long ago pressed against hers, so she could feel the ridges and contours of it, the heat of it.

  Then, with an almost animal cry, Jasper dragged himself from her, and stumbled away to the farthest corner of the room. With his back to her, he rested his hands on the wall, shoulders rising and falling with each agonising breath, fighting to gain control.

  'What...what is wrong...Jasper?' Using his Christian name seemed strangely inappropriate, and yet, after what they had just shared, how could she refer to him more formally? And she needed to bridge the awful gap that had fallen between them. A gap that she didn’t understand.

  'Put your clothes back on, I beg you,' he rasped at her, shoulders shaking.

  'Have I done something to upset you?' She had to ask. What he had been doing to her was so wonderful that she had thought he must have felt it, too. Now she feared that he saw her only as an easy woman, a harlot, for giving in to him so easily. Could the very sight of her disgust him now? She had heard the stories of other widows that gentlemen could take their pleasure with, unhampered by the threat of lost reputations. Is that what he thought of her? But then why would he stop?

  Jasper groaned loudly and hit his head against the wall. 'You have done nothing...Please dress yourself, I do not know how much longer I can keep it leashed.'

  'What leashed? Your seed? I am a worldly woman, I do understand men's needs. My husband had them, after all.' She couldn't seem to find the right words to say to him. His distress was so intense, that everything she said seemed only to make it worse.

  'Madam, please. I cannot take much more of this. If you care for your safety, your life, do not tempt me further!' He still remained with his back to her, his head pressed against the wall.

  Fidelia blushed deeply. He saw her as a temptress, a Jezebel. He was disgusted by her wildness. She scrambled to gather her clothes and ran to the adjoining bedroom to replace her clothes as best she could. The stays would not be able to be laced without help. But she could hardly ask Jasper to do it. If she took them off and put one of her looser fitting dresses on, that might suffice. Better a loose fitting gown than an undone one. What would Maude say when she returned?

  How had she come to be in this state? She couldn't think straight. Every thought cycled back to those moments when she felt every inhibition fall away. The glory of it! Now all she could feel was shame.

  When she returned to the outer room, she found Jasper sitting on a stool with his head in his hands. He seemed to be a little more relaxed, but still deeply troubled.

  'When I have gone, you must leave here immediately. Today. Do not leave it until tomorrow. Go today. Go far away so Rathgart cannot find you.' He spoke into his hands but she knew he was addressing her.

  'I will not throw myself at you again, I assure you,' she sputtered, horrified to think that he wanted her gone so completely from his presence.

  'You do not understand! What I am...What you bring out in me, I cannot control. If you feared for your safety with Rathgart, it is nothing to the fear you should feel toward me. If you are far away, I will have a better chance to control it. What brought me here last night was a terrible and dangerous error. I could not stop myself betraying the people who put their lives in jeopardy for me every day. And I did it for you...To be with you. My blood boils just being in the same room with you. You thought to give yourself to a man, but I am not one... Please leave here today. Go as far away as you can, as fast as you can, and never come back.'

  Fidelia felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She didn't understand what he was saying, but whatever was wrong was her fault. Somehow she had caused him to do something terrible. No matter how desperately she wanted to be with this man, if he saw her as the cause of his troubles, then she must do as he asked. She would leave him and never return.

  'I will go downstairs and make the arrangements. You will never have to set eyes on me again,' Fidelia said in the steadiest voice.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When the maid returned with boots, coat and a horse, he left the hotel as discretely as possible. But he was all too aware of the curious, scandalised gazes of those he passed.

  What did it matter? Far worse than a little scandal was threatening them all now. His woman was in danger, not only from Rathgart, but from him, and he couldn’t protect her.

  That he had acknowledged the truth of it sometime during the passionate intimacies they’d shared was only fuel for his self-loathing. His beast had claimed this woman as his own, and the more he came to know her, the more the man in him agreed. Sweet, beautiful, refined and yet passionate, she was every man’s fantasy. And he had come close to destroying her.

  What if shared bodily fluids was enough to turn her? They believed it was the saliva of the wolf interacting with the blood of an open wound that caused the transition. But what if it was contact with any bodily fluid, even saliva? Just kissing her could mean her downfall. He should have known better when he’d been with her in the drying room. He had kissed her then and should have realised the mistake. But instead, he’d gone upstairs with her, unchaperoned. What had he thought would happen?

  At least he had not broken her skin in his fevered passion. Nor let it go too far that he spilled his tainted seed in her. But if she was to stay near him any longer, he had no doubt that the wolf would have its way. Next time, he wouldn’t be able to control it.

&n
bsp; When he arrived back at the Keep mid-morning, the place was in an uproar. As soon as he was spotted, people came from everywhere to check on him.

  ‘Jas, where the devil?’ Byron demanded before Phil interrupted with, ‘Are you all right?’

  He sighed heavily and dismounted, handing the horse over to Jamey. ‘Yes, I am fine, and I did no damage last night. I awoke outside Lady Montgomery’s hotel. She was the one to find me, and I found clothes in the drying room.’

  ‘Does she know…? How did you explain your lack of clothing?’ Phil demanded this time.

  ‘Set upon by thieves who took everything. When she has more time to think about it, she will probably realise what a thin story it was, but I gave her little time to consider such issues.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Phil stared at him cautiously, as if sensing the truth already.

  ‘Can we go inside? I need to eat and I could do with a stiff brandy. I am cold all the way to my bones.’

  While the others drifted away, Byron and Phil lead the way into the study where Byron poured them all a stiff drink. Jasper downed the burning heat in one swallow and offered his glass up for a second.

  ‘How did you manage it?’ Byron asked as he poured another generous glass of brandy for him. ‘And more importantly, why?’

  ‘My wolf has claimed her. Or that’s what it feels like. It sees her as his mate. I had no choice but to hide the key when you came to lock up last night, then unlock it after you left and before I changed. Then I followed her scent to Harrogate and howled at the moon all night outside her window. I have no idea why the guard didn’t hear it and shoot me.

  ‘Then when I had her within reach I almost ravaged her. I only just reined in the beast, in time. But I do not know if it is too late. Whether my saliva is enough… I did not break her skin… I know that much.’

  ‘Oh my God, Jas, what have you done?’ Phil cried, staring at him as if he was the worst monster in the world.