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However, she found another scandalous use for their attention. It’s not often that anyone can shock the Baron or the Earl, but I can report to you, it has been done.
This month’s Ball is off to quite the scandalous start, and this is not the first time Miss Willoughby’s name has been mentioned inThe High Tea.
Sip slowly, my friends. This month’s Ball has barely begun.
Lady Grey
ChapterEight
Wesley
A wolf running through Broadstone Hall hardly turned heads, but that didn’t stop Wesley from being disgusted with himself for running out of the party. No amount of fancy clothes or hair salve made him ready to claim Phillipa.
His mate wouldn’t wait for him to be ready. She couldn’t, not with at least a dozen monsters competing for her hand. Nor could he resign himself to spending the rest of the Ball simply watching over her while another beast claimed her.
At the very least, he had to present himself to her. Let her know what had happened to him. Try to explain that he was still the man she married under all this fur…
But he wasn’t. And he needed to come to terms with the fact the man might never return.
Could she? Their vows had been to love and obey until death did them part…it didn’t mention anything about this wretched fever, or his resulting transformation. According to the vows, she still belonged to him.
But he wouldn’t want a woman who was disgusted to look at him.
She’s here, he reminded himself.Probably enjoying the company of a monster much more hideous than you.
A flash of pink stopped him dead in his tracks.
The little fae sat with her long legs crossed in front of him on the bookcase. At first, he thought she might be made of porcelain, a statue, until she clasped her hands together, letting her wings flutter, and leaned forward to watch something that was happening on the lower floor.
Then she saw him.
He growled in confirmation.
“Stay away from me, you wretched beast.” She jumped off the bookcase and flew above him, just out of reach. “You’ve terrorized my family and my friends for too long.”
“How do you know that it was me?”
“I didn’t, until I saw the murderous glint in your eye and the way your mouth waters at the sight of me.” The fae shuddered. “Why must you follow us here?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was there for his beloved, but the fae would never know that Phillipa was his bride. “I was invited.”
The fae harrumphed. “I thought this Ball showcased only the finest monsters. Not the scoundrels that terrify the forests.”
“I need your magic.”
Her eyes widened and she crossed her arms. “And what are you going to do about it, wolven?”
He stalked closer to her. “You can help me, or I can take it.”
“Why on earth would ever I want to help you?”
“Because we have a common goal. We want the same person at this party to be happy.”
The fae’s lips parted. “Let me be clearer. Why would I help you charm Phillipa when you’ve caused my family and my friends so much pain?”
“Because we both want the same thing.” He was taking a chance saying that, but he wasn’t a privileged duke anymore who had opportunities handed to him on a silver platter.
He was a self-proclaimed king. A king who didn’t have to take what he wanted by force. He would make alliances, and provide a castle for his queen.
