Druid Surrender (A Druid Quest Novel Book 1) (26 page)

“
W
yatt
, wait!” At Angelica’s hail, Wyatt hunched his shoulders and stifled a groan, but obediently slowed Crusader to allow the infuriating woman to catch up. His impatience transferred to the horse, and the beast sidestepped.

They rode side by side for a while before she spoke. “How are you?”

Wyatt studied her. Her light blue riding habit matched her eyes. In the sunlight, her hair shone like a halo around her head. He tried to imagine being married to a biddable girl like her.

He’d be bored out of his mind within a week. “Married life suits me.”

A scowl crossed her pretty face. “She’s tricked you into marriage. She’ll never make you happy. You can stop the license, and we—”

“I’m happily married.” Wyatt reiterated through clenched teeth, completely exasperated as he drew his horse to a stop. “I will never set her aside.”

“You don’t mean that.” Angelica pulled up alongside him and placed her hand on his arm.

Wyatt flinched at the touch and immediately pulled away. “Don’t.”

“She’s turned you against me.” A snarl curled her lips. “I knew she wouldn’t keep her word.”

An ugly suspicion brewed in the back of his mind. “You were the one who locked her in the church.”

Angelica bit her lip, but quickly laughed it off. “It was a silly prank.”

“It was no longer a prank when you refuse to release her. It wasn’t a prank when you hid the keys then refused to come forward and admit your fault.” Wyatt clenched the reins to keep from lunging for the woman’s throat. He wasn’t as forgiving as Brighid. Had he known, he would have tossed her out of his house that night.

She narrowed her eyes, the calculation in them chilling. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Don’t lie. You were trying to eliminate what you perceived as competition. Unfortunately, you forgot to take one small thing into consideration.” He ran a hand over his head in exasperation. “We would never suit. You’re like a sister to me.”

“You don’t mean that.” Tears pooled in her eyes, revealing honest emotions for the first time.

Compassion for the young girl he once knew stirred in him, but he carefully maintained his distance, not willing to be pulled into her shenanigans again. “You don’t love me. You love the idea of marrying me. After five years trapped in the country, you’d come to hate me.

“But we could live in town—”

“I’ve spent enough time away from home. I’m ready to raise a family and settle down to a mundane country life.”

Her blank stare revealed her incomprehension.

“No balls. No crowds. No shopping. Just family.”

Her nose wrinkled. “But town has so much more to offer.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Not for me. All I want is at Graystone Manor.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Because of her.”

Wyatt smiled at the thought of his wife and having her all to himself. “Yes.”

She recoiled at his brisk words and played with her reins for a minute. “I should be heading back.”

Wyatt knew she wanted him to protest. She batted her lashes, casting him a soulful glance, which he pretended not to see. It made him appreciate Brighid’s subtle allure and guilelessness all the more. When he didn’t fall at her feet like some lovesick calf, Angelica sawed on the reins, wheeled her horse around, and took off in a snit.

He debated whether to follow her home, but decided against it. He had more than enough to occupy him at the moment.

Namely his wife.

The idea of endangering her filled his soul with dread, but he couldn’t come up with an alternative. Being trapped in his own plan made his blood boil. He nudged Crusader, and the beast came alive with a flex of muscles. Hooves thundered over the land, reverberating through his body, and he relished the reckless pace.

The sun was setting when he turned toward home. Sweat soaked his shirt, the chill in the air making it clammy against his skin. Exhaustion didn’t dull his anger one iota, and he wasn’t any more resigned to the idea of dangling Brighid out like bait.

The manor was lit with enough torches that the whole place was aglow. He urged the Crusader faster, but the animal had no energy left for anything more than a jarring trot. Fear crawled into his chest. Wyatt dismounted at the bottom of the steps and tossed the reins to a waiting servant. “Wipe him down. Give him extra oats.”

He raced up the stairs and crashed through the door, his heart slamming against his. “Brighid.”

When her beautiful head popped out the parlor door, he sagged against the wall.

“Angelica has disappeared.”

Wyatt barely registered her words when Michael appeared next to her, shoving her aside as if she were less than nothing.

“Where’s my sister?”

Wyatt straightened in outrage, ready to come to her aid until she waved him away. Only when he knew she would be all right did he register Michael’s question. He bristled in offense, reminding himself the man was worried for his sister’s safety. “I hadn’t seen her since early morning.”

Michael stalked forward. “You were the last one to see her. Where is she?” He gripped Wyatt’s jacket and shoved him against the door with enough force to rattle the knob.

Wyatt knocked away the man’s hands, and Aaron threw himself between them before fists started flying. “I followed Wyatt all morning. Angelica did accompany him for a few miles, but she left, unharmed.”

“You expect me to believe he didn’t plan to meet up with her later?” Michael snorted and turned toward Brighid. “They were expected to marry. Emotions like that don’t vanish because he was forced to wed you. I knew they were meeting in secret, and I’ve tried to keep them apart, and now she’s gone.”

The impact of Michael’s accusation wasn’t immediate, and the room held its breath. Though Brighid didn’t react outwardly, she refused to look at Wyatt and his chest felt like he’d been kicked by a horse.

The doubt stung. Any ground he’d gained in the last few days to earn her trust now lay shattered. He wanted to rage as the distance between them grew into a chiasm, but he had only himself to blame for running out on her earlier. He knew he’d failed her, but the thought of something happing to her had him so paralyzed he couldn’t think straight.

Then Brighid lifted her chin and fire lit her eyes. “Funny, but you didn’t seem to have a problem abandoning her here a few days ago. That’s not the response of a brother who fears for her virtue.”

Michael lunged toward her, and Wyatt leapt between them, ready to lay the man flat if he so much as breathed on her.

“Enough.” Aaron shouted. “We should be focused on finding Angelica, not tossing around blame.” Aaron shoved Michael into the parlor, watching the man as if he were a wild animal that needed to be put down.

Wyatt only had eyes for Brighid, hoping to catch her attention. She pretended not to notice, taking a seat by his mother, her doubts yanking the ground out from under him. He turned away, suddenly afraid his stupidity had destroyed things between them. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and force her to see the truth—that they belonged together.

“I saw your sister this morning. We didn’t part amicably.” Wyatt regretted his harshness with her. He should have been more tactful. If he’d listened to Brighid and explained to Angelica why they would never suit, this situation could have been avoided.

“You lie.” Michael took a threatening step forward, his rage seething in the air.

“Michael. Stop.” Angelica entered the room, twisting her hands together.

Michael marched toward her, grabbing her shoulders so hard that she winced. Fury contorted his face as he spoke. “Did he hurt you?”

Angelica cast a speculative look in Wyatt’s direction, but his expression must have changed her mind, for she quickly lowered her gaze. “No, he didn’t touch me.”

The way she spoke implied coercion, and his jaw clenched at her nonstop scheming.

“You’re protecting him.” Michael snarled and violently shoved her away.

Wyatt had enough. “Tell the truth for once in your life.”

Angelica turned an unbecoming shade of red. “When Brighid vanished for a few hours, you were frantic with worry. You’ve known me longer. If I turned up missing, you should have been devastated and realized that you loved me and not her.” Humiliation stung her eyes as everyone fell quiet. “But you didn’t even notice I was gone.”

“What were you thinking?” Michael blanched at her confession, disbelief holding him immobile. “You’re ruined.”

Angelica blushed in anger, not the least bit ashamed of her actions. “He refused me. He said I was like a sister to him.”

Hatred burned Michael’s eyes black. “May the devil take you both. If you want to be with him so much, you can remain here. I wash my hands of this whole mess.”

To everyone’s shock, Michael turned on his heel and left without another word.

“Michael!” For the first time true distress rang in Angelica’s voice.

Michael didn’t even slow as he slammed out of the house. Angelica’s head lowered, the expert manipulator replaced by a young girl when she finally realized the seriousness of the situation. It must have taken all her courage to speak past the tears in her eyes. “What do you plan to do with me?”

She’d make some London dandy a fine wife, and Wyatt thanked the heavens it wasn’t him. “My aunt has a house in London. I’ll write a note of introduction, and you can stay with her for an unofficial second season. This is your last chance. Don’t mess it up.”

Hope shone in Angelica’s eyes for the first time all evening, and she nodded enthusiastically. “I promise.”

“Come.” Beth rose from her chair. “Let’s get you settled for the night. Morning will arrive all too soon.”

Much to his disappointment, Brighid departed with the others. Wyatt clenched his fists against the need to march after her and gather her in his arms, but feared she wouldn’t let him anywhere near her…especially when she learned Angelica would need an escort to London.

He rubbed his temple to ease the threatening headache.

The train would shorten the trip considerably, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving Brighid alone would be a mistake. The way things were deteriorating between them, Wyatt very much feared his wife wouldn’t even notice he was gone. As much as he wanted Brighid to accompany them, they couldn’t afford to draw the attention of the Watchers actively hunting for her, not until they were ready to deal with them.

“What’s your plan?”

Aaron handed him a drink, and Wyatt accepted it gladly. “Send her to my aunt and have her find Angelica a husband.”

“As long as it’s not you?” Aaron smirked and took a drink.

“I’m a happily married man.” He grinned, but the thought that he might have lost Brighid due to his carelessness left him reeling.

* * *

I
t was
after midnight when Brighid heard Wyatt’s footsteps in the hall. She walked toward the doorway connecting their rooms but stopped before calling out when she spotted the deep lines of exhaustion etched on his face. His perfect grooming was gone. Stubble covered his jaw, his hair jutted up every which way as if he’d spent hours repeatedly running his fingers through it.

She thought she was ready to confront him, but her resolve failed her when he removed his boots and leaned heavily back into the chair before the fire and didn’t move.

“Wyatt?” Concern prodded her forward, and Brighid crept into the room. Her heart melted to find him sound asleep. She knelt at his feet and removed his socks. She knew the instant he woke, but avoided looking directly at him. She unraveled his loosened cravat, then unbuttoned his jacket and vest. Brighid hesitated over his shirt then gave a startled squeak when he grabbed her hands.

“Don’t stop.” He placed them on his chest in encouragement.

Brighid met his eyes, fighting a blush, and quickly dropped her gaze so he wouldn’t guess how much she wanted to forget everything and get lost in him.

It wouldn’t change anything.

As if he understood the sentiment, Wyatt nodded. He stood and shrugged out of his jacket. Brighid stayed kneeling, watching him with both interest and wariness. Muscles of his shoulders flexed and memories of their lovemaking spilled through her body.

“I need to talk to you in the morning. For now, all I want to do is hold you while I sleep.”

Her heart somersaulted in her chest at his confession.

He removed his shirt, revealing an expanse of skin that urged her to touch. She curled her fingers into fists to resist the impulse. She stood and shuffled toward him until only inches separated them, then she turned and lifted her hair. “Unlace me?”

She peered at him over her shoulder to see him swallow hard while he stared at her reverently, as if she were a gift to be unwrapped. He slowly unfastened the dress, and she shivered to feel the heat of him soak into her bare skin. Her dress and stays loosened, and Brighid froze when she felt a featherlight kiss on the back of her neck. Curious at the phantom touch, she turned—only to find him across the room.

Wishful thinking?

Brighid hesitated, uncertain what she wanted to happen next. From the corner of her eye, she saw him get into bed, then still to watch her. Realizing she couldn’t stand there forever, she reluctantly allowed her dress and stays to drop, carefully setting them across the back of the chair, and approached the bed cautiously, debating the wisdom of her actions even while she slipped under the covers.