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Authors: Lydia Dare

Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

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BOOK: Wolfishly Yours
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“It is nonsense. I won’t do it.” Archer shook his head.

Gray sighed with relief. “I was hoping you’d say that. If we band together…”

A knock came at the door, and Archer mouthed the word “Mother” to Gray. “Yes? Come in.”

A moment later, their mother stood in the threshold, glowing with more joy than Gray remembered seeing in a very long time. “Oh, perfect. You’re both here. Archer, did Grayson tell you the wonderful news?”

“He told me you expect us to head to Bath, but—”

“Oh, she looks just like Grace did, darker though. More French, like her father. But with her eyes and cheeks and lips, I would recognize her anywhere as Grace’s daughter. Such a pretty little thing, isn’t she, Grayson?”

“Pretty?” Archer’s brow rose. “I think you neglected to mention that part, Brother.”

“She could expose us all,” Gray hissed.

“Oh, yes, pretty,” their mother continued as though Gray hadn’t spoken. “Stunning, really. Wouldn’t you agree, Grayson?”

Liviana Mayeux
was
stunning. But that was neither here nor there. “Mother, both Archer and I are too busy at the moment to head to Bath. We’ve discussed it and—”

“We cannot wait to accompany you, despite our other duties,” Archer chimed in. “When do we leave?”

Four

Gray should have run all the way from Derbyshire to Somerset, if for no other reason than to avoid the caustic glares and constant bickering between his brother and Lady Sophia along the journey. His head throbbed as he stepped from the Radbourne carriage onto the cobblestones before the Earl of Holmesfield’s elegant Bath home. What he wouldn’t give to be almost anywhere else.

“So where is your pretty little French poodle?” Archer whispered in Gray’s ear as he clapped a hand to his back.

Gray glanced over his shoulder and scowled at his brother. “I wouldn’t call her
mine
, and I wouldn’t compare her to any breed of dog where she can hear you unless you’d like to get her on a subject we should all avoid. She may have Lycan blood in her veins, but she needn’t bandy that fact about.”

Archer grinned unrepentantly. “Indeed. Maybe she’ll show me the mark on her thigh.”


You
planning on marrying the chit?” Gray returned. “It would probably serve you right. I’d dearly love to see the knots she’d leave you in. Probably exactly what you deserve after the life you’ve led.”

“It would be so nice,” came Lady Sophia’s disembodied voice from inside the carriage, “if one of the gentlemen outside would offer a hand of assistance to Lady Radbourne and myself.”

Archer frowned. “She can’t be worse,” he nodded his head toward the coach, “than that one.”

Except that Lady Sophia had never heard the word “Lycan,” and if she did, she’d never utter it. Gray nodded toward the coach. “Shall you do the honors? Or shall I?”

“I’ll do it,” Archer grumbled, then turned around and helped their mother alight from the conveyance.

Once Lady Radbourne was safely on her feet, Archer shut the coach door with a slam and offered his arm to their mother. “Shall we?” he asked, ignoring the huff of indignation from inside the carriage.

“Archer!” their mother admonished. “You shut the door on Lady Sophia.”

“Did I?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Perhaps Gray can assist the lady. Come along, Mother. Lord Holmesfield awaits us with his supposedly stunning granddaughter.”

Gray itched to send his brother sprawling across the cobblestones, but that would hardly do in broad daylight in front of the earl’s home. So he opened the coach door and offered his hand to Lady Sophia instead. “Sorry, my lady,” he said. “Awful gust of wind.”

“Windbag, you mean,” the lady retorted as she stepped from the coach, smoothing her dark locks back in place. “Your brother is insufferable.”

Gray agreed with a nod. “Indeed. And I’ve been suffering him all my life.”

“You have my condolences.”

“And I appreciate them,” Gray returned, offering her his arm. “We should follow to make sure he doesn’t make any blunders upon greeting the earl.”

“I’ll be happy if he makes but one blunder, Mr. Hadley.”

As long as it was only a small one, Gray was in agreement. The two hurried along the short walk to the front door and joined Archer and Lady Radbourne on the stoop as an aged butler gestured them all over the threshold.

“His lordship and Miss Mayeux are in the parlor. This way.” The old man led them down the corridor and through the first open doorway. “Lord and Lady Radbourne, Lady Sophia and Mr. Hadley, my lord.”

“Yes, yes,” the earl grumbled from a high-back chair near a wide window. “I saw them arrive. Have their things brought in, Flemming. And some refreshments.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Gray’s eyes immediately landed on Liviana Mayeux on the opposite side of the room, pacing as though she were a wild animal trapped in a cage. If it was possible, she seemed even lovelier than she had when he’d first met her. Her dark locks were piled high on her head, and the scooped bodice of her gown drew his eyes to territory he fully wanted to explore.

“Archer,” their mother gushed as she stepped into the parlor, “allow me to introduce you to Miss Liviana Mayeux.”

“Livi,” the chit corrected.

Her grandfather harrumphed. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t rise,” the feeble Lord Holmesfield said.

Lady Radbourne nodded. “Sophia and I understand completely, my lord.” Then the viscountess returned her attention to Miss Mayeux and smiled. “Livi, this is my oldest son, Archer, Viscount Radbourne, and my companion, Lady Sophia Cole, and you know Grayson already.”

Livi Mayeux’s blue eyes flashed to meet Gray’s gaze, and the breath rushed from his lungs. If she looked at any other man that way, the mark on her thigh would be discovered in a heartbeat. Not that anyone other than himself or his brothers would know what it was.

“Miss Mayeux.” Archer bowed in greeting. “My brother sang your praises, but I must say you are even more beautiful than he led me to believe.”

“There’s no reason to flatter her,” Lord Holmesfield barked. “And there’s no reason to flirt or pay court to her, either. The two of you scoundrels are here to serve as escorts
only
.”

“Like trained dogs?” Archer asked, which was rewarded with a husky laugh from Livi Mayeux.

“Dogs indeed,” the earl grumbled. “Now sit, so we can discuss our plan of attack.”

“Attack?” Lady Sophia asked as she dropped Gray’s arm and started for the closest settee. “You make it sound like a battle, my lord.”

Holmesfield gestured toward his granddaughter with his head. “‘Battle’ would be a euphemism, Lady Sophia. I do hope you and Lady Radbourne can do something with her.
I
am at a total loss.”

“I assure you,” Lady Sophia replied, “I have handled worse cases.”

Meaning Gray and Archer, but Gray wasn’t so certain Lady Sophia’s estimation was correct. Not if the rebellious flash in Miss Mayeux’s cornflower eyes was any indication. “We are happy to help,” he heard himself say, and couldn’t imagine what imp had forced the words from his mouth.

“You can help,” the earl said as he glanced in Gray’s direction, “by escorting the ladies to the Longboroughs’ musicale tomorrow evening.”

Musicale? Gray would rather listen to the mating of cats. At least the cats managed to stay on tune, at least in comparison to Lady Longborough’s daughters.

“You may be excused until then,” Holmesfield said. “But stay out of trouble. Liviana doesn’t need any unnecessary scandal attached to her name.”

Miss Mayeux could well provide the scandal herself.

“Come on,” Archer said, smacking Gray on the shoulder. “We’ve been given a reprieve so let’s not waste it.”

***

Livi watched the two Lycans escape her grandfather’s parlor and her spirits sank. She’d do just about anything to leave with the two men. Wherever they were headed had to be more fun than enduring the earl’s icy treatment and having to pretend to possess social graces for Lady Radbourne and Lady Sophia’s benefit.

“Liviana,” her grandfather barked, “take a seat. Pacing is for fellows who face the gallows.”

“How fitting,” she muttered. Though she did leave her corner of the room and sat in a chair near the earl’s. She forced a smile to her face when she met Lady Sophia’s gaze. The lady seemed too haughty by half. Livi didn’t have a prayer of enjoying even a moment’s worth of fun with Lady Sophia, so she turned her attention to Lady Radbourne. “So nice to see you again, my lady.”

“And you.” The older woman smiled warmly, the first bit of warmth Livi had felt since arriving in Bath the previous day.

“So I understand,” Lady Sophia said to the earl, “you are in need of my services.”

The old man glanced over at Livi and scowled before returning his glance to Lady Sophia. “Lady Radbourne says you can work wonders. I sincerely hope that is the case.”

Lady Sophia smiled. “What are you most concerned about, my lord?”

“It would be hard to pinpoint one thing. She is too brash. She is too sharp tongued. She is too common. She is too French. She is—”


I
am in the room.” Livi heaved an indignant sigh.

Lady Sophia turned her attention on Livi and seemed to assess her as one might a gown that was two seasons too old while deciding whether or not to keep it. “You are slouching, dear,” the lady said softly. “Sit straighter and square your shoulders. I should think a bit of aloofness would go a long way where you’re concerned.”

“Lord Holmesfield,” Lady Radbourne said, stepping forward, “have you partaken of the waters at the Pump Room yet?”

“Not yet,” he replied.

“Well, why don’t we do so together and allow Sophia and Liviana to get to know one another.”

“A wonderful idea.” The earl slid to the edge of his seat and struggled to his feet with the help of his cane.

“Would you like some assistance, my lord?” Lady Radbourne asked.

“I can do it myself,” he grumbled sourly. Then he leaned heavily on his walking stick and started for the door. He glanced back over his shoulder at Lady Sophia. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

“I’m certain we’ll get along well, my lord.”

He harrumphed. “We’ll see about that.”

Lady Radbourne smiled at Livi. “You are in wonderful hands, my dear.” Then she followed the earl from the parlor, leaving Livi with the very formal English lady.

“So you are to work wonders with me, are you?” Livi asked.

The lady shrugged. “That remains to be seen. I get the feeling you don’t want to improve, which would make my task an impossible one.”

Improve
. Livi scowled. “I’m perfectly fine the way I am.”

“And yet your father sent you to England to become a lady, did he not?”

“He’s a traitor,” Livi grumbled.

“Ladies do not mutter under their breath, Miss Mayeux. It’s considered ill-mannered. If you have something to say, you should make certain your companions can hear you clearly. And if it is something you shouldn’t be saying, well, then you shouldn’t say it aloud at all.”

Livi cleared her throat. “I said,” she was careful to enunciate, “my father is a traitor, and I don’t care who knows it.”

Lady Sophia frowned, but even with a frown she seemed the picture of propriety. “I am certain he has your best interests at heart.
Most
fathers do.”

The way she spoke made Livi think the lady had left something unsaid. “Does yours?”

“I beg your pardon.”

Livi shrugged. “You seem poised and confident. What would make a lady such as you take a position as a lady’s companion?”

A bit of color stained Lady Sophia’s cheeks. “I don’t believe we were discussing
my
father.”


Non
? Well, you mentioned mine. I didn’t realize yours wasn’t a topic for discussion.”

Lady Sophia sat a little straighter and leveled Livi with a haughty stare. “Very well, Miss Mayeux.
My
father has passed away, as has my mother. But if he were still living, I am certain he would have my best interests at heart. Papa’s title, as well as his holdings, have passed on to my cousin, but I do not wish to reside under his roof. Therefore I needed to find a way to take care of myself, and providing companionship to Lady Radbourne is as much a pleasure as it is a position. Now if you are done delving into my past, we truly should return our attention to you and your situation.”

Now the lady was more a mystery than she had been before divulging all that information. “Certainly you could have married.” After all wasn’t that what was expected of proper English ladies? The merging of families and empires?

“English gentlemen prefer wives with dowries, Miss Mayeux, which Lady Radbourne assures me
you
are in possession of. So why don’t we focus our efforts on you?”

“Because I do not have any desire to marry an English gentleman.”

“What do you want, then?” Lady Sophia asked.

And it was the first time since she’d arrived in England that anyone had asked her that question. “I want to go home,” Livi replied quietly. “I want to secure passage to New Orleans. I want to sail the Atlantic. I want to step off the ship and have the warmth of Louisiana wash over me and seep into my bones. I want to watch Etienne wrestle alligators and catch crawfish with Armand in the swamps. I want…”
my
old
life
back
. But Livi couldn’t say those words aloud.

“But you’re here now.” Lady Sophia replied, not unkindly. “As you find yourself in this situation, I will do my best to help you navigate your way through these waters.”

Livi shook her head. She didn’t want help navigating these waters. She just wanted her father to love her enough to let her come home.

“I wish for things too, Miss Mayeux. But I have to know which dreams are possible and which are not.”

Livi sighed. It wasn’t a matter of possible or impossible dreams; it was a matter of right and wrong. She should never have been shipped off to England. She should never have been sent to her grandfather. “Where do you suppose Mr. Hadley and Lord Radbourne have gone?”

Lady Sophia closed her eyes as though the thought of the men gave her a headache. “The Lord only knows.” Then she sat forward in her chair and speared Livi with a look of determination. “Those men are hardly your concern. We need to spend the time we do have preparing you for the Longboroughs’ musicale tomorrow. Do you sing?”

Livi nearly swallowed her tongue. “Sing?” she croaked. “Will they ask me to sing?”

Lady Sophia shook her head. “One must always be prepared. Can you sing?”

Not in front of people. She sang in the bayous at home with her brothers, but she would never sing in front of a group of rigid Englishmen. “Can you?” she countered.

“I’m not on the market, Miss Mayeux. You are.”

But Lady Sophia
should
be on the market. She would make some stuffy gentleman a much better wife than Livi ever would.

BOOK: Wolfishly Yours
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