Joshua yanked his hand away from the stone. Better to stop his line entirely than let the curse continue.
That was his thought as the front door opened and Elizabeth stepped out to welcome him.
No other woman, in England or anywhere else, could hold him the way she did. At eighteen she’d been pretty, with soft brown hair and sympathetic brown eyes. Now she was a grown woman with the grace that may come with age. Her hair was still long, but up in a severe hairstyle he’d seen on women in London and disliked on his wife. She wore a simple dress, no fancy gown. Her face had grown thinner over the years and he noted that her dress fitted her loosely, almost enveloped her. He didn’t like her pale complexion or tightly gripped fingers.
He wanted her to run down the stairs and fling herself into his arms. For a moment he thought he noted a longing, a desperate desire in her steady gaze, but it flickered and died away instantly. But what had he expected? He’d abandoned her with the burden he himself had barely been able to carry alone.
A flurry of feminine ribbons and petticoats attacked him.
“Joshua, you’re home,” a woman cried and he almost stumbled from the force of her welcome.
“Melinda,” he said sedately and removed her arms. She’d always embarrassed him as a gauche boy and it seemed that hadn’t changed.
He immediately noted that Melinda’s clothes were much more fashionable and newer than his wife’s. His eyes narrowed. His cousin’s outfit had cost quite a bit and, by the smell of her, she skimped on nothing including her perfume. “I would like to greet my wife,” he said coldly.
Melinda winced and stepped back. “Of course.”
Elizabeth met his gaze with a shuttered expression on her face. But he hadn’t missed the way her jaw had clenched when Melinda had thrown herself into his arms. Good. His wife was possessive of her husband. Some things, at least, were as they should be.
“Elizabeth,” he said, and climbed the steps. She didn’t shrink from him but met him halfway for a kiss that would have frozen the hot sun of Jamaica.
They strode into the house and Gerry appeared. The boy, not even born yet when Joshua had left, was the spitting image of Perry when he was a child. A cold hand clutched Joshua’s heart. Perhaps Gerry hadn’t escaped the curse after all.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Gerry said with a nervous wobble in his voice.
The anxiety in Gerry’s eyes was familiar to Joshua and he instantly had memories of his own nervousness around strangers his grandmother had forced him to meet. In those times, it was his father’s warmth that Joshua remembered, but Gerry wouldn’t have any such remembrances. Joshua opened his arms and hugged the child. “Thank you, Gerry.”
The fierceness with which the boy hugged him back startled Joshua, but he didn’t release him. Then the boy abruptly dropped his arms and sprinted up the stairs.
Joshua stared after him. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” Elizabeth said smoothly. “He’s shy.”
He remembered his own shyness as a boy and he glanced at Elizabeth. Did she remember how that shyness had been conquered by her? Probably not.
Jaimison bowed over Elizabeth’s hand. “My respects, my lady.”
“Thank you, Jaimison. Will you stay for dinner?”
The redheaded man shot a glance at Joshua, who struggled to remain impassive. Jaimison smiled at Elizabeth. “Another time, my lady. His lordship’s homecoming should be a family affair.”
Elizabeth winced. “Yes, perhaps. Another time, then.”
Jaimison left an awkward silence behind him. Elizabeth turned and strode toward a small room Joshua remembered as his father’s office. “Will you have a drink before dinner, my lord?”
My lord? What the hell was the matter with his wife? His gaze narrowed on her face. The wolf chafed beneath the skin. Joshua had learned to allow some of the Beast’s attributes to help him, but not often. It was more difficult to control the thing when he allowed it too much freedom. But at the moment he sharpened his senses, allowing the wolf’s sense of smell and sight to guide him.
He smelled…anger. Suppressed but there. And something else. He smelled arousal. The Beast growled and beat at the bars Joshua had caged it in. Years of hard work had paid off and Joshua had control of this alter ego of his.
Without a word he followed her into the small office—stalked her, really, for the Beast had sensed her arousal. Elizabeth was his mate and always had been. He inhaled the scents drifting from her. Yes, anger, rage. If he poked her she’d strike out like a deadly snake.
“How old is that dress?” he asked her. Nothing goaded a woman like criticizing her clothing.
“At least three seasons,” she answered calmly, and the anger beneath didn’t stir.
What? What angered her? “Melinda looked quite fashionable.”
A jump in the air gave Joshua some information. No, she didn’t like him talking about Melinda. Not like that. But her voice was unchanged when she said, “It’s more important to Melinda to have the latest fashion. She visits London more frequently than I do.”
“And Perry wasn’t here to greet me.”
Another jump, bigger but still not the core of what bothered her. She handed him a glass of whisky. “I informed him of your homecoming.”
When she sat down in one of the armchairs in the room, he sat opposite her and contemplated her. So controlled, so restrained. This was not the girl he’d left ten years ago. Had she sought pleasure outside the bond of their marriage?
He hadn’t. There was no woman for him but his mate. Once that bond had been formed, however weakly done, Joshua was unable to find release with another. For the wolf, there would only be Elizabeth. He did not know if that was true for her. And Perry was unmated and out of control.
“So where is he?” He took a sip of the whisky.
“I don’t know.” The words “and I don’t care” hung unspoken between them.
“He has his reasons for his behavior,” he told her.
“I know that,” she said and stared at him in the most peculiar manner.
He blinked. “Our family—”
The jump was very large this time. Rage fairly radiated from her now, yet her voice was cool and calm. “I’m well aware of your family and its quirks.”
He stared at her. “Elizabeth,” he said firmly. “Why are you angry?”
“Have I said something that indicates I’m angry?” she said sedately.
His eyes narrowed. What was this? “It’s very clear—”
“To you, perhaps,” she said and held his gaze. “Would you care to tell me why you think I’m angry, my lord?”
He could sense her outrage only due to his enhanced abilities, given to him by the thing inside him. He rose, unwilling to share it with her. “If you deny it, of course, I’ll accept it.”
The spike of anger in her fairly filled his nostrils and he gritted his teeth. Would she out-and-out lie to him?
Instead she shot to her feet and crossed the room to a painting. Her hand pushed aside the picture frame to reveal a space in the wall. Her fingers flicked over a dial set there and the door opened. She yanked out an old leather-bound book and tossed it at him.
He caught it by reflex and noted his family crest on the front. “What is this?”
“The history of Arundale men,” she said bitterly, the anger clear in her tone now.
His fingers stroked the cover and opened the brittle pages. His mother’s handwriting filled them. God, he missed her. The words were jumbled at first, but he read one sentence that froze the very marrow of his bones.
“I have married the Beast of Arundale Hall.”
His head shot up. “Where did you find this?” His tone was sharper than he’d intended.
When his wife’s spine straightened and she glared at him, he realized his homecoming wasn’t going to be easy. “I discovered it five years ago in your mother’s things. Of course it would have been better coming from you, but I wasn’t family, was I?”
/>
“Elizabeth—”
“Perhaps you should have married Melinda after all, my lord. She is distantly related to you.” She slammed the door to the small opening. “Of course it’s not too late. Is that why you’ve suddenly come home?”
“No, I—”
“No? Well, that will be a disappointment for your cousin.” She stressed the last two words. “But I’m sure she’ll make do.” She stamped toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I must see to dinner.”
She didn’t slam the door behind her, but the force of her rage hit his nose like a sledgehammer. Though he’d always called her his little flower, her simple beauty like the blooms she loved, she never had been a shrinking flower. As a child she’d stood up to him despite his title and his arrogance.
It seemed that, in that area at least, she remained the same. God, he loved that woman.
He fingered the leather binding on the journal his wife had thrown into his lap. It even smelled like his mother. So Elizabeth knew. Had known about the Beast for five years. He groaned. Too much wasted time weighed on him like an anchor. Well he wasn’t going to waste any more.
The dinner chime sounded throughout the house and Joshua tucked the book under his arm. No matter what happened he wasn’t going to run away from his mate this time.
At dinner he discovered why his wife was becoming bitter. One maid served the whole household and the cook helped with dinner service. Melinda didn’t lift a finger to help. Perry slouched in one of the chairs and twirled his wine glass. Sullen and unfriendly, he hadn’t said two words to any of them.
When Perry had finally appeared his only response to Joshua had been a grunt. Appalling behavior.
Gerry was a bright spot, trying to help when he could and chattering away about some animal he’d seen on the moor. But even he was a strain for Elizabeth when Melinda intervened as Elizabeth scolded Gerry mildly for trying to steal birds’ eggs from a nest.
He noted instantly how Elizabeth backed off and how Melinda undermined any discipline she tried to give the child. He marveled at his wife’s serenity until he saw her clenched fist around her wine glass.
It didn’t help that Perry had visitors. Two creditors and a disreputable rake, one after another, “dropped by”, insisting on being announced during dinner. Finally Joshua threw down his napkin and glared at his brother.
“Tell them to go,” he snapped.
Everyone at the table stared at him. Perry sputtered. “This is my home—”
“No.” He shook his head to emphasize his statement. “It’s my home. This disgusting behavior will stop now.”
He knew his brother. Confrontation had always made him disappear. It was one of the reasons he’d never allowed Elizabeth to confront him about anything. Joshua’s greatest fear was that his brother would cut his family away and drift helplessly toward madness.
“Perry, please,” his wife begged.
Perry stared at Joshua. “I’m going with my friends.”
Joshua strode toward him. “As long as I go with you.”
His brother stared at him. “No.”
“Why not? I know where you’re going,” Joshua said bitterly.
“You don’t.”
Joshua leaned closer to his brother and spoke a name he hadn’t said aloud in ten years. His brother broke out in a sweat, his eyes wild and uncertain. “How do you know his name?”
He gripped his brother by the arm. “Because I know.”
With a firm hand, he escorted Perry toward the door. “Wife? Don’t wait up for me.”
“As you wish, my lord.” She appeared at his elbow and opened the dining room door.
Joshua heard Melinda’s plaintive whine. “But Joshua, you just got here.”
Elizabeth clenched her hands in front of her dress and waited in the hallway. “Do you want me to send a note to Jaimison?”
He gazed at his wife. From his six-foot-five height he could look down his nose at anyone but couldn’t beat Elizabeth at it. “Yes. And cancel my morning ride. I won’t be home until late.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, my lord.”
He could feel the seething resentment, the way she agreed to do his bidding but probably thought about killing him. With a shove, he catapulted his brother into the hallway. “Let’s go, brother.”
His brother whirled around, his eyes a bright blue, his teeth elongated. A grim smile froze on Joshua’s face. “Tsk, tsk. A lack of control. We have work to do.”
A hand gripped his arm and he turned to see his wife restraining him. “Please, my lord,” she whispered.
“What is it?”
“Take the book with you.” She pressed the book that he’d left on the table into his hands.
“Why would I need my mother’s words to discipline my brother?” He glared at his snarling sibling.
“Because your father never explained anything to either of you. He never had the chance. Your parents died before they could tell you and then your grandmother kept your mother’s diaries—”
“What does my grandmother have to do with this?”
“Your mother died and she kept the book. I found it by accident.” His wife’s guilty tone got his attention. She’d stolen it. Why?
He took the book and Elizabeth relaxed. The earlier anger seemed to have subsided. The Beast scented her arousal more strongly now. It spurred him, tormented him.
With the book under one arm, he wrapped his free one around her waist and yanked her into his embrace. She gasped, her eyes wide and her face suddenly young and vulnerable. He didn’t wait for her to recover but bent his head down to take possession. He punished her mouth, enjoying the way she sagged against him, her moan signaling her surrender.
When he released her she lifted her hand and pressed the back of it to her lips. Tears shimmered in her eyes and she whisked around, fleeing as though the hounds of hell were at her heels.
As he stared after her he chided himself for being a bastard. He’d come home to help her, not dominate her. Hadn’t he?
“Isn’t that a pretty picture?” his brother sneered.
Joshua turned back to his brother. What had he expected after years of neglect? “Time to face facts, Perry.” He emphasized his words with actions that sent Perry reeling out of the door. Joshua knew damn well and good the wolf would erupt, fury guiding its motions.
But his brother had learned some control and the Beast remained dormant behind his flaming gaze. “Why did you come back? No one wants you here.”
“You know why.”
Fear wafted from Perry and Joshua froze. Could his brother have murdered that man, sliced him up and left him to bleed on the doorstep? If so it was Joshua’s job to stop him.
“You have no right—”
“I have every right. As first born, I am the Earl of Arundale.” Pathetic and sad. That argument wasn’t going to tame the wolf.
He gripped his brother’s arm and shoved him into the carriage. “I have been a poor landlord, but I’m home now. I will set things to rights.”
It pained him to see Perry huddled in the corner, beaten down, despairing. “You cannot make this right, brother. I am a devil, a demon in human form.”
Joshua sat down and knocked on the roof. The carriage leapt forward. “I once believed I was a monster.” He leaned forward and held his brother’s agonized gaze. “We are like men who have been born very tall. It can be a gift or a curse.”
“This is no gift,” Perry said bitterly.
Joshua nodded. “I believed that too. But I know better now. Have you ever avoided a confrontation because you could smell the violence on another man?” His brother shifted in his seat. Yes, Perry had experienced the positive aspects of the wolf. “It can be a gift.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Like most gifts, that is not important. It has been given to you. What are you going to do with it?”
Who was he really asking that question? He hadn’t done much with his own gift. It occurre
d to him that he’d been a coward, afraid to come home and find his wife distant and his family in tatters. Though he had found those things, he’d also found that his wife was not unaffected by him and his family needed him.
He should have come home years ago.
*
The day I discovered that William was the Beast of Arundale Hall, I thought my life was over. Our wedding night, usually kept in girlish secrecy, was one I must share so that following Arundale women are not shocked or pained by the method our men use. The Beast is so much a part of William that I no longer think of them as separate beings, but parts of a whole.
Early on I discovered that pain, sexual arousal and domination all serve to control the Beast. It may stun you to see such words used by a gentlewoman. But I do not want my sons to suffer. The wolf creature is part of the Arundale heritage as much as blue eyes or tallness.
It appears during puberty, somehow influenced by sexual need. From an Arundale boy’s crossing into manhood, he is tortured by the demands of this inner demon—for uncontrolled, the Beast is harsh and violent.
Sexual extremes seem to satiate the Beast, but it is the final claiming of a mate that calms the Beast permanently. Until an Arundale male finds his lifelong mate, he is subject to the Beast’s whims of sexual games.
When I met William, he visited brothels and paid women to allow him the full scope of his Beast’s nature. But I was his true mate, blooded by him and claimed. I wear his mark proudly, though none know it. Inside my thigh, he marked me as his mate on that first night, our wedding night.
My two boys show all the signs of the Arundale male and, I have no doubt, will inherit the curse as well. Arranged marriages are deadly in this instance. For example, William told me of a distant ancestor, a DeFalk, who married a woman not his true mate.
The Beast tore her to pieces.
*
The date was a year before her death.
Perry was trussed up and receiving the beating he desired. This place was had been Joshua’s safe haven once. The fact that his wife had been required to come here made his stomach roll.
Lord Everret hadn’t changed either. Those cool gray eyes regarded him with an assessment similar to Elizabeth’s. The man wanted to observe Perry’s torment and Joshua hadn’t said no. The Beast enjoyed having an audience.
Wolf of Arundale Hall Page 4
