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  “That doesn’t give him the right to order me about,” Oliver sniffed.

  Simon interrupted his show of obstinacy. “In fact, it gives me the right to do anything I want with you.”

  Tension nearly crackled in the air as Simon stepped toward Oliver, who merely lifted his nose a few inches and turned his face away from the duke in a supreme show of feigned indifference. Lily knew the boy was anything but indifferent. But it would take much more to win Oliver’s confidence.

  Unfortunately, Simon didn’t appear interested in gaining her nephew’s confidence, not in the slightest. The situation reminded Lily of when she was a child and had offered to help the cook by going to the henhouse to collect eggs. Invariably, two of the roosters would begin to fight, each battling for supremacy.

  That’s what the duke and her nephew looked like as Simon crossed the room. But Lily knew Oliver would be the one to get hurt. She stepped between them.

  “Move, Lily,” Simon said.

  “Not if you’re going to hurt him, Simon.” Lily held up one finger, much the way she would if she were scolding Oliver. Realizing how ineffectual the gesture was when he smirked at her stance, she lowered her hand to her side.

  “I won’t hurt him, Lily. Not if he listens and does as I tell him.” He looked around her at Oliver and bellowed, “Now!”

  When Oliver didn’t move, Simon took another step toward him.

  William called from the doorway, “Are you all involved in a game of charades? I can hear your bellow all the way from downstairs.” He glanced around the room. “Why is everyone in Lily’s room when she’s in her nightrail?” Will glanced down at her bare feet and smiled wickedly. “What beautiful toes you have, Lily.” He attempted a casual tone, Lily could tell, as he tried to break the tension in the room. It had little effect on Simon, and Oliver took even less notice.

  Despite his casual manner of speaking, William was suddenly on guard as well. He circled around Simon, coming to stand close to her. She watched as he met eyes with Simon, almost as if a silent communication passed between them. Within seconds, his arms were around her, and he took her to the side, cradled in his hold. At the same time, Simon advanced toward Oliver, and the rest was a blur.

  It seemed like only moments later that the room was empty, except for William who reluctantly loosened his hold on her.

  “I’ll let you go, Lily, but only if you promise to let them be. Simon needs to teach him something, and this is the time to do it.”

  Twelve

  SIMON HAD KNOWN THAT THE TIME WOULD COME FOR him to assert himself as the leader of the pack. But he knew quite well how disastrous the situation could be if anyone else was caught in the middle of the altercation when it happened.

  He was incredibly relieved when Will walked through the door. He knew Will would remove Lily from the line of danger while he took the pup to hand.

  The boy was stronger than he looked, and it took every bit of effort Simon had to drag Oliver from the room and into the hallway. As he stepped through the threshold, Simon closed Lily’s door. The crash of the door slamming seemed loud, even to his ears.

  He held the young earl’s face against the wall, one hand bending his arm behind his back. The boy kicked and squirmed, refusing to give in, even in his current position.

  Simon tightened his hold on Oliver’s arm, pressing more forcefully but taking care not to hurt him. It took every bit of concentration he possessed not to simply knock the obnoxious little pup to the ground and stomp on him. But he imagined Lily would take exception to that.

  He moved his face close to Oliver’s and growled, “If you can control yourself, I will let you go.” Oliver stopped squirming. While Simon had the boy pinned against the wall, it was time to tell him the rules. “You have more power in your fingertip than your Aunt Lily has in her entire body. If you fly into a rage when she’s in the vicinity, there’s a very good chance that you will hurt her, even if you don’t mean to.” He loosened his hold on Oliver’s arm but didn’t let him go.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” Simon needed to know before he would fully release him.

  Oliver nodded, a bit of contrition apparent in the way he held his body when Simon finally let him go.

  “I know you don’t understand what’s happening to you and your body,” Simon said as he led the way to Oliver’s room. The boy followed slowly. “What you’re experiencing is more than just the approach of manhood. It’s the approach of manhood for us, for our kind. And it can be dangerous.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt Aunt Lily,” Oliver sniffed.

  “You wouldn’t intend to hurt your aunt, but you may do so without even realizing what you’re doing.” He opened the door to the boy’s quarters and motioned for him to precede him into the room. “Do you want to know what’s happening to you?”

  The boy nodded.

  “If you truly want to learn, William and I will take you out with us tomorrow night, when the moon is full in the sky. We will educate you about what’s happening to you, and I’ll be there to help you learn to control it. And embrace it. Because only by fully embracing it can you make it a part of you, rather than an enemy.” Simon grew pensive as he regarded the boy. “Your father never learned to fully embrace it because he didn’t have anyone to teach him how to be a man.”

  “But you’ll teach me that?” Oliver surprised him when he asked.

  The boy reminded him so much of Daniel. How things might have been different if someone had been able to guide his cousin. Simon swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “As long as you promise to keep an open mind and behave yourself.” He shot a pointed look at him. “No more shows of obstinacy.” Then as an afterthought, “And you must promise not to tell your Aunt Lily.”

  Oliver seemed instantly accepting of the camaraderie that came with working together to keep something from his aunt, as Simon had expected him to be. He laughed and clasped the boy’s shoulder. Despite the look on the youth’s face, Simon could still sense a bit of rage boiling below the surface. He would leave him to it. After all, that beast lived in him as well. He understood it.

  Simon looked Oliver in the eye and said, “Go to bed. And stay there.”

  Oliver nodded. Simon turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he heard the sound of breaking glass. Probably the crystal vase that sat upon the armoire. Then another smash. That one was probably his mother’s antique clock. Simon couldn’t contain the chuckle that crept from his belly. He’d broken more than one frivolous item of décor in his younger days. And was still prone to it now. He would let the boy have his fit of pique and then discuss it on the morrow.

  As for Lily, he wanted nothing more than to go to her, to explain, but as the moon was now high in the sky and nearly full, that would be the worst idea he’d ever had. He retreated to his study with a bottle of whisky instead.

  It wasn’t until he was very well into his cups that he heard movement above stairs.

  Lily sat in her room and stewed, her bare feet fretfully tapping the carpet. She took out her knitting but wasn’t able to concentrate. She crossed to the window and looked into the distance. The estate was a mass of dark shadows, the light of the nearly full moon illuminating everything in its path. Lily watched as a rabbit darted across the lawn, heading for its hidden burrow. But the animals of the night only held her attention for a moment.

  What she wanted to do was to go and see Oliver, to be sure he was all right. William had stayed with her for no more than a few minutes before he encouraged her to get a good night’s sleep and kissed her forehead, as if she were nothing but a child.

  If one more man told her what to do, she would scream. She would be the one to throw the fit. And they would all be very sorry.

  Who was she kidding? No one would care if she yelled loud enough to bring the house done. They would say “It’s for your own good, Lily. You wouldn’t understand.”

  She understood much more than t
hey credited her for. She understood that the men in this house, all three of them, were some of the most poorly behaved men she’d ever seen.

  If they could be poorly behaved, so could she. She would check on her nephew whether they liked it or not. She needed to assure herself that Simon hadn’t hurt Oliver when he’d dragged him from the room.

  Lily cracked her door open and peered outside, her gaze darting left and right. She stepped out into the hallway once she’d assured herself that everyone else was abed.

  Lily padded softly down the hall, her bare feet sinking into the luxurious carpet that lined the corridor, and found Oliver’s room. The door slowly opened and creaked only slightly as she stepped inside. She would take a moment to watch him sleep, as she’d done almost every night since he’d come into her care.

  Oliver’s dark hair lay tousled against the pillow. He was at once a child replete with all the physical characteristics of a man. The full brow drew down in a frown even in sleep. Lily reached out and touched his hair, instantly relaxing him. He sighed softly and settled more deeply into the bed.

  These were the moments she loved, the moments when her little boy was still a child. They were few and far between, and Lily was starved to crawl into bed with him and pretend he still needed her.

  She glanced around the room, taking in his clothes that were flung about the floor. He’d always been a bit of a messy child. However, he was an earl and always had servants to keep his rooms clean and his clothes tidy. But then she noticed the broken shards of glass on the floor. He must have been in quite a temper when Simon had brought him to his room. She got up and went to pick up the larger pieces. She would have to apologize to Simon in the morning on Oliver’s behalf.

  “Why are you in here, Lily?” a voice asked quietly from the doorway. Simon leaned against the door frame, glowering at her.

  “I just came to check on Oliver,” she whispered as she stood up and placed the largest shards of glass on the side table. “He’s sleeping soundly, so I’ll go back to bed now.” She took a step to brush past him but winced as her bare foot picked up one of the remaining pieces of glass. She lifted her foot and winced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just a piece of glass in my foot, Simon,” she sighed.

  His expression immediately softened. “A great excuse to hold you,” he said softly as he scooped her up in his arms.

  “Simon, put me down,” she scolded him. “Why is it that you think I can’t walk on my own two feet?”

  “Because one of your two feet is injured, Lily love.” She heard the laughter in his voice and couldn’t help but smile at him. The scent of whisky caressed the side of her face.

  “Simon, I think you’re foxed,” she smiled. “Put me down before you drop me.”

  “I’m not so foxed that I can’t carry you to bed.” He met her eyes with that suggestive comment. She felt the heat creep up her face.

  “Perhaps you should drop me at my door,” she murmured.

  “Perhaps you should be quiet and let me decide what I’ll do with you,” he goaded her as they entered her room and he tossed her onto the bed. Before she could scramble to her feet, he had her injured foot in his hand. Even foxed, he moved faster than any man she’d ever met.

  When he’d tossed her onto the bed, her nightrail had risen, exposing her calves. She tugged at the hem, trying to find some modicum of decency.

  Alas, Simon was no help at all.

  “I have seen your ankles before, Lily. Now be a good girl and sit still,” he ordered as he closed one eye and tried to focus on her injury.

  “How much have you had to drink, Simon?”

  “Way more than I should have,” he murmured. He stilled her foot and pulled the shard from her tender skin. Smiling, he held the small sliver up for her perusal. “Got it.”

  It was rare to see Simon actually smile. A scowl was much more like him. He got up, crossed to the water pitcher, and wet the handkerchief from his pocket. She held her hand out to him when he returned with it. But he took her foot in his hand again and said, “Let the doctor work, will you?”

  He gently washed the bottom of her foot until he’d cleaned it enough to satisfy his own need to assist. Then he took her foot in his hand and peered at it closely. “I have never understood what makes you women think you need to keep your ankles hidden.” His hand slipped up to cup her slim calf.

  “Simon, that’s not at all proper,” she reminded him, tugging at the bottom of her nightrail again.

  “A view of your foot doesn’t particularly make me lose all control, Lily.”

  “Well, that’s good to know, Simon.” She rolled her eyes and tugged her foot, trying to pull it from his grasp.

  But he held strong. “It’s not like it’s your calf, love,” he said as his hand trailed up the back of her leg, his arm pushing her nightrail with every caress of his fingers.

  “Now, when I see this, I can’t help but think naughty thoughts.” He smiled lewdly at her.

  “Simon,” she said more forcefully.

  “Simon,” he mocked her, making a face that caused her to giggle. But then he sobered. “Do you know why I think naughty thoughts when I see your calf?”

  Lily’s heart thumped in her breast. “W-why?” she stuttered.

  “Because I know that above this knee,” he said as he slid his hand up the back of her knee to the sensitive skin of her thigh, “lies what I want above all things, Lily,” he murmured as he bent to kiss her.

  Before he could touch his lips to hers, she breathed against his mouth, “You want that above all things?”

  “Mmm. More than anything.” He nodded, his lips barely brushing hers.

  And that was all it took. He may as well have doused her with a big glass of water.

  He’d dismissed her. He’d tried to send her away, to marry her off. He’d kissed her. He’d touched her inappropriately. And, above all things, he’d made her want him to do it all over again. But she needed to keep her wits about her.

  “Simon,” she whispered. “You need to leave.”

  He frowned at her. “Don’t ask me that, Lily. I need you.”

  “For now,” she added quietly. “Tell me, when morning comes, will you need me then? Or will you still be intent on sending me away?”

  She saw a number of emotions flash across his face. Then he shook his head and stumbled backward. “I shouldn’t be here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Lily brushed away a tear as she watched him leave her room, wondering if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Thirteen

  SIMON AWOKE WITH A SPLITTING HEADACHE, BLINKING painfully when the morning light flooded his vision. What had he done the night before? Ah, yes, finished off a bottle of whisky. He’d started it before his encounter with Lily and finished it after. He was playing with fire where she was concerned. She was fortunate he’d been so deep in his cups last night, dulling the intense call of the moon, or he wasn’t sure what would have happened.

  What a lie.

  He knew exactly what would have happened. He’d have taken her beneath him and ruined whatever chances she had at a normal life. He wasn’t at all certain that her protests would have even hit his ears until it was too late. Thank God he’d been foxed.

  Simon pulled himself from bed, noting the room spun if he moved too quickly. “Parker!” he bellowed, covering his ears when they rang.

  A moment later, his valet threw open his dressing-room door. “Yes, Your Grace?” The young man’s eyes were wide, taking in Simon’s form.

  He must look even worse than he felt.

  “Prepare my bath, and…” his voice trailed off, certain Parker would know what he needed.

  Soon he sank down into the warm water of the bath and closed his eyes. How would he face Lily after the things he’d done last night? More importantly, how could he keep her safe from himself tonight, when he transformed into something that would terrify her? His drink had saved her last night, but
it wouldn’t help her this evening. He could imbibe all the whisky in Scotland beforehand, but it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. The full moon would have him in its grips regardless.

  After his morning ablutions, Simon made his way to the breakfast room where he found Will slicing his sausages on his plate. He barely looked up when Simon fell into a spot across from him.

  “If you’re looking for Lily,” his brother began with a glower, “you’re too late. She’s already gone.”

  Simon’s heart lurched. Gone? “Where?” he couldn’t help but ask, though he had no right. It was the best decision for her. Still, a cold emptiness settled over him. He couldn’t imagine going through the day if he didn’t get to see her. She’d left? Just like that? No warning? No good-bye? Just… gone? He must have terrified her.

  Will looked at him as if he were the village idiot. “To the Hawthornes’.”

  Simon released a breath he didn’t know he held. “Oh, yes, of course.” Thank God.

  Will shook his head. “You’re just making it worse on yourself, you know. You should have taken care of the situation last night when you had the chance.”

  Will’s hearing was as keen as his own. No doubt he had overheard the entire exchange with Lily, even if he tried not to. Simon scowled at his brother, hating that his privacy had been compromised. “She asked me to leave, as I’m sure you know.”

  Will scoffed. “Like you’ve been asking her to do? Neither of you mean it. You’re obviously made for each other.”

  “Why are you in such a sour mood?” Simon finally asked, after a footman had placed a plate of baked eggs and sausages in front of him.

  Will’s blue eyes shot up, piercing him. “Prisca Hawthorne not only sent her father’s carriage for Lily, she also came along for the ride. Insufferable chit takes special delight in making my life hell.”

  Simon raised one brow, the memory of his carriage ride with Lily fresh in his mind. Turnabout was fair play, after all. “I don’t know why you don’t just bed the girl and put the rest of us out of our misery.” He took a bite of eggs, relishing the glower Will sent his direction.