Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep (Werewolf Keep Trilogy) (11 page)

If Jasper could bear to be in the same room with her, she might ask him for more details of his so-called robbery. He had looked remarkably unharmed that morning for someone who had been put upon by villains and had every possession stolen. Jasper hardly looked the type to just stand there and let someone do such a thing to him without fighting back.

Bare footprints outside the cave… What explanation could there be for that?

‘Come on, My Lady, it is time you were abed. You’ve had a terrible scare and been frozen half to death. You need an early night curled up in a warm, comfortable bed. I’ve put a warming pan in and stoked up the fire. Once you’ve had a hot bath I will get you a warm glass of milk to drink while you read in bed. Before you know it, you’ll be asleep with this whole day behind you.’

‘What would I do without you, Maude? You have
been like a second mother to me all these years. If not for your quick thinking yesterday morning, Phil and her husband would never have come looking for me. I might have wandered those woods until I died of cold or hunger.’

‘Nothing of the sort
, missy. You would’ve come upon a cottage or a carriage travelling the road. You’re more capable than you give yourself credit for. You would’ve found your way back to me, one way or t’other.’

Fidelia smiled as she climbed to her feet. In the past
, she would not have believed Maude when she spoke of her this way. But now that she had come to the same conclusions herself, it was easier to accept. Maybe she wasn’t quite the porcelain doll everyone took her for.

Byron was worried. Really worried. Jasper had been ominously quiet since his return. He had spoken to no one, and spent the rest of the day locked in his room, a bottle of brandy with him. The others sensed his disease and kept their distance, unwilling to invade his self-imposed isolation.

All of them had experienced
, in one way or the other, this terrible ennui – this world weariness – that came when life as a werewolf became no life at all. It didn't matter that for more than nine tenths of their life they were human. It was the one tenth that determined how they saw themselves.

In the years
Jasper had been with them, he had always been filled with self-loathing. That changed when Phil made him see another perspective on his situation. But the last few days had set him back badly. He must be feeling as if his beast had the upper hand. And Phil, who had been one of his fiercest supporters, was now wary and resentful of him. That would be contributing to his negative feelings about himself.

No one yet knew whether kissing a human could turn them, and until they were sure that Fidelia was safe, they couldn’t let her leave. If she was turned, he doubted Phil would ever forgive Jasper. Nor whether Jasper would
ever forgive himself. There had been suicides before, by those who were not strong enough to bear the horror of what they had become. Jasper had never been that weak, or sunk that low. Now Byron wasn't so sure anymore.

Something had happened in Harrogate. Something
more than kisses and uncontrollable sexual urges. The fragile, lady-like creature had ignited the wild streak in Jasper. A streak he'd never known he had, and now it had encroached onto his humanity. Jasper needed to feel in control to stay sane so he could continue to believe in his ultimate humanity. But Fidelia stripped that control from him and handed him over to the beast, without even realizing she had done it. And now he suffered.

Byron
wondered if Jasper realised he’d fallen in love with the little widow. Not love at first sight, but something close to that. The wolf’s needs only partly explain his actions. Even human men were known to go mad when in the throes of love. Take him, for instance. He had been so determined to keep Phil out of this life. But, almost from the moment he saw her, he was drawn to her side. He'd come close to ravishing her the morning after he'd first set eyes on her. And she had been an innocent virgin and he a gentleman. Sometimes the beast in a man had nothing to do with werewolf blood.

Spurred on with this new thought
, he fought down his natural urge to leave his friend alone. If what Jasper was experiencing was love then he would need someone to talk to about it. And no one was as close to Jasper as he was. Discussing feelings was not his strong suit, but when the need arose, he would.

Jasper had been in his room, drinking his way through a full bottle of brandy ever since he’d returned from his rescue mission. Even though the bottle was almost empty, he didn't feel much of an effect from the alcohol yet. Werewolf constitution was better than the average man's. Byron found that out the hard way, over the years. Any one of them could drink him under the table without even trying.

There was a sharp knock on his door and
, before he had a chance to tell whoever it was to go away, the door opened and Byron strode in. He took one look at Jasper and poured himself a stiff Brandy from what was left of the bottle.

'Are you in love with Dee
?' Byron asked without preamble.

Jasper felt as if his best friend had delivered a
hard, unexpected punch below the belt. It left him gasping for air. But he refused to say anything until he could get his rioting emotions in order. Instead, he looked away, out the window where the last of the sun’s rays were casting long shadows across the snow-covered garden. Soon it would be time to go below. Tonight he didn’t have to worry about the wolf trying to get free. Dee would be long gone by now.

He wished that thought made him happy, or at least relieved. All it did was make him even more miserable.

'Come on, man. You say the wolf has claimed her as his mate. That he was the cause of your lack of control.  But it was you who kissed her, not the wolf. All he did was save her from that villain and take care of her. The only thing that makes sense to me in all this is that this is not about the wolf, it is about the man.'

'What do you m
ean?' Jasper felt his senses suddenly transition to high-alert. This was an idea that had never crossed his mind. He had assumed that all of this was the beast’s fault. It had taken him over and driven him to do things the gentleman in him could not approve of. But Byron seemed to be suggesting something different.

'I mean that men
can act like lunatics when they fall in love. We are animals, too. We have insatiable urges that we will do anything to meet. You Werewolves do not have the monopoly on that. I just about tore Phil's clothes off her the morning she arrived...Actually, I would have, if she had been wearing any...but that is not a story a gentleman shares. The point I am making here is that I was beyond being rational where she was concerned. Good God, would a rational man bring someone into this world? I did not have a choice. I tried to have a choice. I went to London to stay away from her so I could have that choice, but in the end, I could not lose her. One minute she was a stranger, annoying the life out of me, and the next she was giving me the love I had wanted, but never knew I needed all my life.’ He paused contemplatively. 'I just thought maybe that was what might have happened to you.'

Jasper sa
t staring into the glass in his hand for several long minutes. So long, that Byron finally took a seat and poured himself another glass of brandy.

Finally Jasper
felt able to speak. 'I sensed her before she was even in the Keep. It was like a magnet had been turned on and I was iron filings. I was helpless to stay away. If that is love, then maybe …

'I nearly took
her, 'Ron. I got her out of her dress and almost got those god-damned stays off her. And she was willing. I
know
she was willing, even if Phil thinks I saw what I wanted to see. But then I realised the monster was almost loose, and I did not know what it would do to her if I lost any more control. So I told her to go as far away from me as she could get.'

'Did you feel like you might hurt her? I mean tear her to pieces hurt her?'

'God, no. I just wanted to devour her, bury myself so deep inside her I lost all sense of myself.' This admission unsettled him. 'I was never the most sexually driven man. Do not get me wrong, I had my share of women before I was turned, and I certainly enjoyed the experiences. But what I felt with Dee was not enjoyment. It was like a fever. Like insanity. I could not get enough of her. I might have hurt her in my desperation. I do not know what would have happened. I have never been that out of control as a human. That is why I thought it was the monster. Obviously he wants her, otherwise he would not have followed her all the way to Harrogate the second night of the full moon. '

'But it was the man who let him loose. And the man w
ho started making love to her…The wolf did nothing more than seek her out and look after her.'

'Yes...
the man. But I thought it was the wolf taking control.’ He frowned before downing the last of the brandy in his glass. ‘It does not matter what it was. It is over before it even started. She is better off away from me. What can I offer her? This life? Even if I have not turned her by my kisses, I might bite her when…you know. I might accidently turn her then.'

'We have no evidence
proving that sustaining an injury from one of your kind, while in human form, causes anyone to 'turn'. Will was a boxer before he came in contact with a werewolf. He fought several bouts after that incident, but none of the people he fought were turned.'

'Phil told me she was worried I'd b
roken skin when I manhandled Dee that first day.'

'Phil is still new to all this
, yet. She has read all the research, but she jumped to the worst-case-scenario out of fear for her friend. I do not believe she seriously thought Dee would have been turned by what you did that day, or she would be in terror every day she is here, in case one of you accidentally injured her or me.'

'No matter.
I cannot afford to love any woman, especially not one as fragile as Dee. Nor could I ask her to share this life with me. I am a monster. Nothing changes that.'

'That i
s what I thought, too, about this life. But Phil had other ideas. Women are not mindless children we have to manage and protect. They seem quite determined to have some say in the decisions that concern them. At least, that has been my experience.'

'Dee is not like Phil
.'

'You might be surprised. Tiny and doll-like she might be
, but there just could be a will of iron under that soft exterior. You said that she did not try to escape the beast and went quite willingly with him to that cave. She let him keep her warm through the night. That is not the behaviour of some weak-spirited woman. You should let her at least know how you feel.'

'No. S
he is far too delicate to share my burden. Leave off now 'Ron and go away. I am not drunk enough yet to sleep.'

‘She will be coming here tomorrow. Phil invited her to sta
y while she recovers from her ordeal.’

‘What? I thought you put her on a train to London after you brought her back to Harrogate.’

‘What gave you that idea? Until we know for sure the bodily fluids you shared have not adversely affected her, then we cannot let her leave. And the poor woman has no one but Phil. Her parents are on the continent. After her ordeal, she needs time to regain her strength in safe and loving surroundings.’

Jasper felt
as if all the air in the room had been sucked out. He gasped several times, trying to fill his empty lungs. Finally, after what felt like a monumental struggle, he regained control and drew in fresh breath.

‘She is in Harrogate? You will have to make certain I am locked in
here tonight. The full moon may be over, but I can already feel the wolf flexing his muscles at the thought that she is so close.’

‘Then do what you have to
do to stay clear of her. But know that it is not just the wolf who is overjoyed at the idea of his mate being so close. You are, too.’

‘No, I am horrified. How am I going to fac
e seeing her day in and day out after everything that has happened? Maybe I will go and visit my family for a few weeks. Maybe that will give me the time I need to get this, whatever it is, under control.’

‘I tried that. It does not work.
All you succeed in doing is making yourself more miserable. My suggestion is to face it like a man.’

‘But I am not a man, I am a werewolf. I had my humanity taken from me,’ he said bitterly.

‘One tenth of the time. The other nine tenths you are as much a man as I am. Do not use your affliction as an excuse for cowardice.’

Jasper slammed his glass down and jumped to his feet. ‘Sometimes you go too far. No one calls me a coward.’

‘Then stop acting like one,’ Byron said easily, remaining in his relaxed position. ‘Dee is coming here tomorrow and you need to face her. She is probably very confused and hurt by the way you treated her. You need to make amends. You know how devastated Phil was by my rejection. You all still remind me of it at every opportunity. Well you have likely creating that sort of hurt in Dee.’

‘How do I make amends? I cannot tell her what I am. What I am afraid of. I am just as likely to throw myself at her
, again, as soon as I pick up her scent. Next time, I might not be able to stop myself in time.’

‘That is what chaperones are for. Phil is the fiercest protector any woman could ever ask for. You will not get within
three feet of her alone.’

Jasper felt
humour bubble up from deep inside him. In the next moment, he was laughing uncontrollably. Maybe the alcohol had finally started working. Whatever the reason, the image of Phil standing guard over Dee like one of those harridans of the ton was more than amusing, it was hysterical. It was enough to lift his spirits.

‘Very well
, then. If I have Phil to guard Dee’s safety, I can be at ease.’

‘The full moon is past. Things will mellow out
tomorrow.’

‘I wish I could believe that. But I will do my best to stay the gentleman. Whether it is the beast or my own human instincts at work, I will retain my hold on my code. It is all I have left.’

‘Good. We will make it through this, Jas, I know we will.’

Fidelia wandered around the large room she had been assigned at Breckenhill Keep the next morning. It was not as charming as the one Philomena shared with Byron, but it was much more pleasant than her old rooms at Fotheringham Manor. There was something warm and earthy about the furnishings, as if they had been carved from the living forests nearby. And a fire had been started in the grate, its merry warmth driving the last of the cold from her bones.