by Lydia Dare
“How’s Mother?” Will asked as he stepped closer to Prisca. He slid an arm around her waist, happy to find that she didn’t pull away. He’d wanted her in his arms since before he left on his journey.
“Sleeping for the time being. She’s been fading a bit more each day.” Ben frowned. “I’m just glad you’re back, and I hope this works.” He gestured to the concoction cooking on the woodstove.
“You say it will be hours?” Will asked as he slid his hand down Prisca’s back to caress the swell of her bottom. Her eyes shot up to meet his, a warning in her gaze.
“Aye, hours,” Elspeth replied, grinning. “Get out of here,” she laughed, motioning with her hands.
Will didn’t have to be asked twice. Within seconds, he’d bent at the waist and hoisted Prisca over his shoulder. She yelped but didn’t fight him as she had in the past. She just hung over his shoulder and swatted his rear.
“A simple invitation would do, Will,” she said as he carried her through the door.
“I like carrying you around, wife,” he said as he stepped outside with her and walked quickly toward the dower house. He slid his hand beneath her dress and raised it to cup her bottom. She squirmed against him.
“Someone will see your hand beneath my skirts,” she hissed at him.
“I don’t care,” Will said as he pinched her plump flesh.
“Ow!” she cried.
“I’ll kiss it and make it better,” he growled.
It had been days since he’d held her. He’d never wanted a woman so much, and he was not about to let anyone keep him from her any longer.
He burst through the door of the dower house and slammed it shut. The erection that tented his trousers made walking so difficult he feared he couldn’t take another step. Instead, he lowered her slowly down the front of his body, until she hovered with her skirts around her waist. He raised her legs, encouraging her to wrap them around his hips.
He framed her face with his hands, stroking gently. Her violet eyes stared at him with wonder. “I missed you,” he whispered. He was surprised to find that he had to swallow past the lump in his throat to continue. “I missed you more than I thought could ever be possible.”
“I didn’t miss you at all,” she whispered, her voice cracking, betraying her lie. “In fact, I don’t even remember your name.” She grinned. The little minx.
“Let me remind you,” he said as he bared her breast and pulled her nipple between his lips.
“Who are you again?” she asked. If she could still tease him, he wasn’t doing his job very well.
“Your husband,” he grunted, barely able to speak to her.
“I vaguely remember that I have one,” she gasped out the last word as he switched to her other breast.
“I’ll be sure to leave a better impression,” he said as he opened his trousers and pressed at her center. She wrapped her arms even more tightly around his neck and tucked her face into the crook of his shoulder.
“Will you take me for the first time like this?” she asked quietly.
“What?” he asked, trying to clear the lust that fogged his brain.
“I do want you,” she sighed.
But not like this. Like she was some common trollop. Not the first time. He held her there against the door for a moment, while he tried to catch his breath.
“I’m not sure if I’ll claim you as my husband, William,” she said, her nose scrunching up.
He heard the word claim, and his ears perked up. “What?” Surely she didn’t know about that.
She shook her head playfully. “I’ll not admit that you’re my husband, Will.”
“And why not?” He couldn’t help but smile at the way her pert little nose scrunched up.
“Honestly?” she asked, batting her eyes at him coquettishly.
“Please.”
“Because you smell like one of Emory’s hounds,” she said as she uncurled her legs from around his waist and slid down his body until she stood before him. “I’d wager you’ve not bathed in days.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll bathe and then love you so well you’ll be afraid to deny me.”
“You can try,” she teased.
He did so love a challenge.
“Will.” Prisca frowned suddenly. “Your mother hasn’t said much the last few days, but she did ask about you.”
Prisca watched Will from the doorway of Alice’s chamber. He sat with his elbows resting on the side of his mother’s bed, her limp hand in his.
“Elspeth and Miss Macleod are working in the kitchen now, Will,” she whispered. “They’ll be here soon, and they have high hopes this will work.”
“You don’t even believe in magic, Prisca.”
Will didn’t look in her direction.
“My life is far-reaching,” he murmured softly, but she heard him.
“Speaking of which,” Prisca said. Then she stopped to clear her throat. “I did some reading when you were gone.”
“The society rags? Who is having an affair with whom? You know most of those stories are fabricated,” he scoffed.
“Were they fabricated when the pages were full of your exploits?”
He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. “No. Not typically. I was just as bad as the rags made me out to be. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Not particularly,” Prisca muttered. This was going badly. She wanted to discuss the Lycan books with him. Perhaps take his mind from his mother’s condition. Yet she failed miserably at both.
Prisca sighed and sat down on the opposite side of the bed. She crossed her arms and waited as the nothingness stretched into an eternity.
“I wanted my mother to meet our children,” Will said quietly after a few moments. “I always assumed she would be here. She was so strong.”
Prisca rose to walk closer to him. He sat back in his chair and pulled her into his lap, drawing her close to him. He immediately sighed and relaxed, inhaling deeply with his nose close to her hair.
Prisca wanted to assure him that things would be all right, but she wasn’t certain they would. Unless the witches could perform a miracle, which she still had doubts about, his mother would not be with them much longer. So, she just whispered, “I know,” as she kissed his forehead. Her hands slid into his hair, stroking him gently.
“I’ve always loved it when you do that,” he said, pressing into her hand. She continued to stroke him, her fingers wildly mussing his hair, but it seemed to calm him. “The first time you ever touched me like that, you were still a young girl. You touched me with the innocence of youth and brought me a peace like I’d never experienced, not close to the moonful.”
He spoke softly and slowly, as though her ministrations put him into a trance. “It makes me wild and unmanageable. And, oh, how I hated it. But I came to you, and you did just this.”
Prisca’s back stiffened. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Don’t stop,” he said, when her hands slowed.
“I don’t remember touching you like this before we were married.” Surely he wasn’t remembering another woman.
“The first time, you were wearing a yellow dress. And you had yellow ribbons in your hair.”
“Are you sure it was me?” She tried to keep the waspishness from her voice.
“I’m positive. No one else smells like lilacs.” Will sighed with contentment. “It was after your birthday party. I couldn’t come to the festivities.”
Prisca searched the room for a liquor decanter. Perhaps he’d been imbibing before she joined him.
“But I sat outside and listened. Your brothers finally teased you one too many times. You stomped by them and out into the garden. I hated to see you cry.”
Now, Prisca remembered. She remembered the dress. She remembered the party. She remembered the argument. She didn’t remember seeing Will in the garden. But she did remember the first time she saw her wolf.
“I trembled when I saw you,” he admitted, resting his head again
st the back of the chair. She continued to stroke him. “I knew I was taking a chance, and when I got near you, I was almost overwhelmed with the need to claim you. Then you touched me.” He finally opened his eyes, his sapphire gaze so intent it nearly hurt to look at him. “And from that moment forth, the only time I felt whole was when I was with you.”
A clatter arose from the hallway. Will’s eyebrows crunched together as he lifted her from his lap and set her on her feet. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Prisca’s mind swam with what he’d admitted. She sank into the chair Will had vacated, more confused than ever.
“Out of all my sons, Will is the most troubled.” Alice’s raspy voice crackled.
“Can I get you anything?” Prisca asked as she sat forward.
“More time,” Alice whispered.
“Unfortunately, I can’t help you with that. I would give you my life, if I could. Just to see Will happy.”
“That wouldn’t make my boy happy. He needs you.”
Prisca shook her head.
“I am his past, and you are his future.” A cough wracked her frail body. Prisca jumped up. “I’m going to see if the potion is ready.”
But before she could even step out the door, Elspeth and Caitrin Macleod burst inside the room. The blond witch closed the door firmly behind them. Then she turned the key in the lock.
Elspeth rolled her eyes. “Ye doona think that can keep the likes o’ them out?” She laughed lightly.
“I always forget who we’re dealin’ with.” Miss Macleod shrugged. “I doona think we’ll need it, regardless. She’ll be healed. Today.”
“Truly?” Prisca gasped.
“Ye still doona believe.” The blonde tsked at her, a light smile on her face. She held her hands out to Elspeth. “We’ll try the potion first, just so we can say we did.”
Prisca could only watch as Caitrin Macleod helped Alice to sit and then lifted the cup to her mouth.
“It should work instantly, if it’s goin’ ta work at all,” Elspeth said as Alice took a small sip.
“That’s positively vile.” The dowager grimaced.
“Ye doona have ta drink anymore,” the blond witch said as she put the glass on a nearby table.
“Did it work?” Prisca asked.
Elspeth shook her head and pressed her lips together firmly. Prisca’s heart nearly broke. Will would be so upset. They all would. Tears blurred her vision.
“I have a feeling ye know what we’re ta do now,” Elspeth said dryly, eyeing her friend.
The blonde’s eyes twinkled.
“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Prisca snapped. “She could have already been healed!”
Elspeth put an arm around Prisca. “Her powers doona work that way. She doesna ken some things until events happen in the present. Then it changes her perspective.”
Caitrin Macleod smiled devilishly. “Ye are no’ allowed ta heal her, correct?” she asked Elspeth.
“Ben said I canna, but he’s not here,” she started. “I’ll do it.”
“Ben would never forgive you,” Alice rasped out.
The blonde waved a hand negligently. “There’s nothin’ ta forgive. She willna do the healin’.”
“Then who will?” Prisca barked. “Please stop talking in riddles!”
The pretty witch shot Elspeth a look. “This one is a pain in the arse,” she said motioning toward Prisca. “I’m so glad William has ta put up with her for eternity.” She laughed loudly.
Alice smiled weakly.
Then the blonde pulled Elspeth closer to the bedside. “Have ye felt the babe move inside ye?” she asked.
“Just little flutters,” Elspeth admitted.
“Why doona ye let Her Grace feel the movement?” she asked, winking at her coven sister.
Elspeth’s eyes scrunched together, and then she began to smile. Prisca was on the verge of ripping someone’s hair out, preferably Caitrin Macleod’s. But Elspeth stepped closer to the bed and took Alice’s hand in hers. She pressed it to the tiny mound where her baby rested.
Prisca watched as Alice began to smile. Her eyes began to shine. Her skin, which had looked so pale, returned to normal. Prisca’s mouth fell open as she realized that she’d just witnessed Ben and Elspeth’s baby heal the dowager duchess.
They’d tuck her away in Bedlam for sure.
Finally, Elspeth bent and pressed a kiss to their mother-in-law’s forehead. Then Alice sat up, swung her feet over the side of the bed, and stood up, stretching dramatically.
The door suddenly burst open. Major Forster tumbled into the room first. He came up short when he saw Alice standing up, smiling at him. She was across the room in a flash. Alice stood up on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his. His arms snaked around her waist as he deepened the kiss.
Lily rushed into the room next. “I tried to keep them busy, but it was impossible…” Her voice trailed off as she took in the passionate embrace. “Oh, my,” she said, color suffusing her cheeks.
Will, Simon, and Ben all stood dumbfounded behind Lily.
“She’s better,” Elspeth sang out.
“That’s obvious,” Simon grunted, still staring at the couple.
“The potion worked?” Ben asked.
“Well, no’ exactly,” Elspeth hedged.
“Elspeth Westfield, if you tell me that you healed her…” Ben growled, his face turning red.
Elspeth held up two hands as if in surrender. “I promise, it wasna me,” she laughed.
“Prisca?” Will asked.
Prisca laughed loudly and pressed her hand to her chest. “Me? I can’t heal anyone.” She pointed to Ben. “You are in serious trouble, Benjamin. When that baby arrives, you’ll be up to your armpits in trouble.” Then she doubled over with laughter and relief all rolled into one.
Will put his arm around her and whispered in her ear. “What happened?”
She cupped her hand around the shell of his ear and said, “The baby did it.”
“Seriously?” Will pushed her to arm’s length and studied her face.
She nodded. “It was amazing.”
“So are you,” he whispered.
From the threshold, Simon coughed loudly. The dowager duchess and the major paid him no heed. He took a step toward them, but Lily intercepted him. “Let them be,” she said, tugging him into the corridor.
Ben and Elspeth slowly followed.
Ben sighed. “Please tell me you didn’t put yourself in danger on purpose.”
Elsepth shook her head. “Of course no’.”
“Why is it that you nearly died when you healed me? But not when the two of you healed my mother? Is it because your powers are combined? Stronger?” He placed a hand on her belly.
“Maybe. I think it’s more about the connection, though. Ye and I share a bond,” she said softly as she cupped his face in her hand. “I would give all of myself to heal ye. I’d give a lot for yer mother, too, but I dinna have ta. Evidently, my power combined with that of the bairn’s made it all look simple.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. He growled and swung her into his arms and dashed toward their quarters.
“What was that about?” Prisca asked of Will.
Will coughed into his closed fist, obviously hiding a grin. She punched his shoulder.
“Tell me,” she pleaded.
He stood up tall and tried to appear serious, but failed miserably. “They’re going to their rooms. Where they will take a nice long nap. One Benjamin will enjoy immensely.”
“That’s what she whispered?”
“With a little implied meaning behind it, yes.” He wagged his eyebrows dramatically at her. “Want to go back to the dower house and take a nap?”
She could think of nothing she would enjoy more. Besides, she wanted to get a closer look at that birthmark on the center of his lower back, just to be sure she hadn’t lost her mind.
Twenty-Eight
WILL LOVED THE BLUSH THAT SETTLED ON PRISSY’S CHEEKS. He’d never
tire of that image, and just as soon as he got her back to the dower house, he’d make sure the blush covered every inch of her skin. Finally.
“William, what is that look in your eye?”
He winked at her. “I think we’d best hurry home.”
Her blush deepened.
“Yes,” was all she said. His heart leapt.
Within moments, Will directed Prisca outside of the manor house. They were just a few yards away when he caught a scent in the air. A combination of citric shaving lotion and wildness. Brimsworth.
A predatory instinct clutched Will’s heart. “Stop,” he whispered, drawing Prisca to a halt beside him.
His wife’s violet eyes rounded in surprise, but Will didn’t meet her gaze. He tightened his hold on her arm and scanned the area around them. He sniffed the air, searching for the lone wolf that was somewhere in their midst. Caitrin Macleod’s warning was fresh in his mind. He’d be damned if that golden wolf would touch one hair on Prissy’s head, let alone claim her.
“What is it?” Prisca asked quietly.
Movement in a nearby copse of trees captured Will’s attention. “Go back to The Hall and stay beside Simon.”
“You know I don’t get along with His Grace,” she complained.
Brimsworth’s scent wafted stronger in their direction, making Will’s nostrils twitch and his patience vanish. “Then stay with Ben, for God’s sake. But don’t leave his side.”
“Will,” she persisted, clutching his sleeve. “What is the matter?”
She wouldn’t believe him if he told her. He shook his head, refocusing on the tree line almost a hundred yards away. The scent was most definitely coming from that direction. “Something I need to take care of.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Priss, do as I said.”
“Don’t bark at me, William.” Even though he was focused on the area in the distance, he could hear the frown in her voice.
“You can berate me later. Go find Ben, and do it now.”
Prisca pulled out of his grasp and stalked back toward The Hall in a huff. Images influenced by Caitrin’s vision haunted Will’s mind. He sniffed again in the direction where Brimsworth’s scent was unmistakable. Then he took off at a sprint. There was no reason for the earl to be on Westfield property. No reason, aside from his desire for Prisca. When Will got his paws on the golden wolf, he’d tear him to shreds.
