Persuaded to Love: A Kendawyn Paranormal Regency Page 2

  The last view he’d had of Alice yesterday was as she had been pretending to be delighted with the monstrous rooms before Hugh persuaded her to their private rooms. A murmur of anxiety was buzzing through Oliver’s brain as he debated the purpose of his visit. He then he passed the master suite and found Hugh kissing Alice in the hall, and with that sight, Oliver’s purpose firmed.

  He cleared his throat, and Alice jumped, but it took a Hugh a moment to step away from his wife.

  “You have terrible timing, cousin,” Hugh growled.

  Oliver grinned before replying, “Indeed,” he lied, enjoying the way Alice pressed her flaming face into Hugh’s arm. “I apologize most strenuously.”

  “Lovely weather today,” Alice said.

  The two men looked at her pinkened face and laughed.

  “Be quiet,” she huffed before scowling at them both. “I’m going to get Mariah. I can see you’ll antagonize me if I don’t.”

  She turned to leave and then said, “Which way?”

  Hugh pointed her in the right direction, making her promise to get the first maid she passed to show her the way and then clapped Oliver on the shoulder. Hugh led the way to the breakfast room. Neither man spoke, though of course, Hugh was aware that Oliver had a purpose to his visit.

  The cousins simply knew each other too well to hide much. Rhys was already in the breakfast room with a cleaned plate. He leaned back against his dark wood chair at the massive table and sipped coffee as he read his paper.

  Mariah and Alice joined them as the other two were finishing their breakfasts. They loaded their plates far more lightly than the men and joined the others at the table. Alice looked at Hugh, saw a slight shake of his head, and then glanced down at her plate.

  “Subtle,” Oliver said, grinning and leaning back with his cup of coffee.

  “Out with it man,” Rhys commanded as Alice blushed for Oliver and then took a slow sip of tea.

  The silence as she set her cup down was powerful, so Oliver said, “I…”

  He cleared his throat and then said to Hugh, “I would like to have an Alice of my own.”

  Mariah stifled a laugh as Rhys said, “Obviously.”

  Hugh was kinder as he said, “It’s possible that Alice and Mariah had noticed.”

  “Am I so obvious?” Oliver glanced between the two females whose fingers were pressed to mouths to hold back laughter.

  “Hugh,” Alice said and then laughed aloud. “Did you see Oliver’s face as he danced with Lady Anne?”

  “Is that the one who jabbers?” Hugh asked, shrugging off the memory as if it were his worst nightmare.

  “Yes,” Oliver and Alice replied. Oliver echoed Hugh's shiver while Mariah and Alice laughed at them.

  “He got that look you do when you’re irritated with me, my darling Hugh, but pretending not to be. All stiff-jawed and lips pressed together. Just a little bit. I almost couldn’t contain myself.”

  Mariah, Rhys, and Hugh were not so kind and their laughter drowned out Alice.

  “Or when he took Sally Prendergast for a walk in Hydon Park? I was unable to speak for a half an hour without laughing,” Mariah, Alice’s cousin-in-law, and closest friend added.

  She laughed again at the memory again joined by Rhys and Hugh.

  “And without Leah St. Claire, you’d be engaged to that Mallory chit. Leah headed her off when she had clear intentions of pulling an Alice Darcy and trapping a Wolfemuir into marriage.”

  “Excuse me,” Hugh said with a growl to his voice.

  “No Wolfemuir gets trapped,” Rhys said. It was an order despite Mariah, Anne, and Hugh were all married.

  “Did you say what I think you said?” Oliver added aghast. He shuddered at the thought of anyone even attempting to pull that sort of trick on him. He met Rhys’s focused eyes and knew his packleader would have swooped to the rescue. Thank goodness, Oliver thought, for vicious packleaders, few would attempt to cross. Even the three rulers of Kendawyn, the Triumvirate who represented the werewolves, mages, and vampires would hesitate before crossing the pack of Wolfemuir.

  “You need to buy Leah something amazing.” Alice stirred her tea idly as if the phrase didn’t bother her. She had once been convinced that Hugh had loved Leah. Because of that conviction, Alice had left Hugh, been kidnapped, and then rescued by the others. Leah St. Claire, however, was in love with another cousin—Henry Darcy though she refused his proposals.

  Alice added, after a moment’s thought, “Well perhaps you had better wait until Leah finally gets enough gumption to marry Henry.”

  “She’s told him no seven times, darling. She won’t ever say yes,” Hugh said. “More the fool she for he adores her as no other will.”

  “Of course she will,” Mariah and Alice said together. Their gazes met as if to say the men were fools. But they’d seen what the repeated denials of his offers had done to Henry and none expected him to ever make another offer.

  Alice glanced between the men and explained, “If she weren’t going to marry him, she’d have married someone else already. I don’t know that I’ve ever met a woman so young who wants children so desperately. Her family could have convinced her to marry someone, anyone if she didn’t love Henry.”

  “Then why doesn’t she say yes?” Hugh was disgusted. He almost slammed his cup down before stopping at the last moment to slide his chair back. Oliver agreed entirely. He wanted his wife to choose him back, mythical though he was. He couldn’t imagine being Henry and loving and being loved and yet unable to convince his beloved to join her life to his.

  That act had driven Henry to take the Triumvriate mission of removing the Kendawyn pirates from the mortal world. It had dragged George and Henry and their good friend Devlin as well. Not to mention several other packmembers.

  “I don’t know,” Alice said, “but she’ll marry Henry or no one. At least while Henry is available, I’ve seen that look before.”

  “What look?”

  “It’s probably the expression on her own face when she thinks about you,” Mariah said. “Alice should be familiar with it since you’re on her mind incessantly.

  Hugh smiled at Alice as she tossed a crumb at Mariah. “I believe we were talking about Oliver’s desire for a wife.”

  “Indeed,” Hugh said with a wicked grin that promised endless teasing.

  “Find him one, Alice,” Rhys ordered, fully expecting to be obeyed.

  She raised her brow at him, and he tried to ignore it but could not. For the first time Oliver had ever seen, Rhys did not make someone who challenged him to submit. Instead, he explained himself, “You’re our sister now. We work to make you happy and hope for the same in return.”

  Her eyes remained narrowed before she finally turned back to Oliver. She had not acquiesced and every wolf in the room knew it. Hugh remained tense until Rhys chuckled under his breath.

  The others turned their gaze, as one, to Oliver. He glanced between them, grateful for the self-control that prevented a vivid flush. It had been difficult to ask for help. But the pathetic attempts of actually looking for a wife and finding only silly chits had left him somewhat desperate.

  Mariah and Alice were thoroughly in love with their husbands. Hugh had this disgusting look of satisfaction on his face all of the time. Alice’s cousin Algernon was the same. Let alone Oliver’s brother, George. That George had found what Oliver had not galled him. But then he looked at Hugh and saw again that it was as if nothing could mar his underlying happiness.

  “Indeed,” Oliver said finally. “I want…”

  “You want to be in love,” Alice said gently. “With someone who loves you back.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have necessarily said it like that. I want a companion. I want…”

  “You want to be loved,” Alice said. “I’m not going to help you if you aren’t ready to love back.”

  “Why not?” Oliver, Hugh, and Rhys demanded as one. The cousins tossed each other disgruntled glances before turning their commanding gazes
on Alice.

  “Well of course,” Mariah agreed softly, drawing their ire and standing up to it as easily as had Alice. "Besides...Oliver, you won't be successful with someone unless you love her."

  Alice intervened when she added, “Because, dearest Oliver, you’re asking me to direct you to those I know who could make you happy. Those women are people who deserve to be loved back and to be made happy in return. If you aren’t ready to do that, then I am not the person to help you. Perhaps a matchmaker? Doesn’t Lady Culpepper say that she can bring together a perfect couple?”

  “She introduced Jane Symon to Lord Piking,” Mariah said, nodding as if that was a wonderful idea and not that new Lady Piking was notorious for sending her husband spinning at her commands.

  “I don’t want a matchmaker. I want…” Oliver almost growled out the last, “I want to love and be loved. I want a mate.”

  Chapter Three

  “Well at last,” Alice said to Mariah.

  “Indeed,” Mariah said grinning at the two men before turning back to Alice, “Jane Madison?”

  Alice shook her head. It was clear she knew exactly who she was going to send Oliver to.

  “Hannah Allington?”

  Alice shook her head, this time with the hint of a smile.

  Mariah cocked her head at Alice before saying, “Gertrude Nybett?”

  Alice shook her head, again, grin even wider.

  “Who then, brat?” Oliver demanded.

  “I do not want to rip off your arms and shove them down your throat, but you watch your tone with my Alice,” Hugh growled idly as he stood and refilled his place.

  “Venetia,” Alice said to Mariah who had choked on her laughter.

  “But, Oliver wants a chance. She won’t have him,” Mariah said, shaking her head. Her brow was furrowed, and it was clear she didn’t think Oliver—of all men—could persuade some random girl Alice knew to love him. Oliver—well he was what his mother said—he was handsome, rich, titled. He was well-connected. He wasn’t stupid. He was, in fact, a catch. It was why all the matchmaking mamas had cast their gaze on him.

  “Why not?” Oliver and Rhys demanded.

  "Nothing wrong with Oliver. Seems to be the chit should be grateful to have him."

  “He’d have more luck with Antigone Crestwell,” Mariah said. “She’s…”

  “Absolutely wrong for him,” Alice objected. “Antigone is more Rhys’s speed, but I don’t think even Rhys could win Antigone over. Also, Oliver wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell at Antigone.”

  “I am the Duke of Wolfemuir,” Rhys objected. “I hold more lands and incomes than most of Kendawyn. Only the Triumvirate ranks higher than me. I am the packleader of the 2nd largest pack of Kendawyn and certainly the most talented and powerful wolves the land holds. And I am their leader. Every single woman wants a chance at me."

  "You are incredibly arrogant," Alice said as Hugh and Oliver winced.

  "Of course I am," Rhys said, "Rightfully so, I am Wolfemuir."

  “Antigone is too much for you,” Alice said without a flicker of a lash. She was, Oliver realized, entirely serious. And she wasn’t interested in Rhys’s reaction to her blunt statement. Her gaze was on Oliver’s as she continued, “But Venetia…”

  Mariah interrupted, objecting for Oliver. “She…well you know… Well, she’s just set against marriage. Entirely against it.”

  “I know that she is,” Alice replied, “Venetia is one of my dearest friends, kind, loving, powerful. She is a prize. But she is not to be won.”

  “What is she to be then,” Oliver asked.

  “Well, this might sound a little innovative,” Alice said, “But I think you should get to know her, let her get to know you, and then see if you can persuade her to entrust herself to you and trust yourself to her in return. Though she states she doesn’t want to marry, I think in her heart of hearts, she would love to have a family. And she’d need someone like you. Ready to laugh, kind, and be extremely protective.”

  Oliver and Rhys looked at Alice and Mariah for long moments and then turned to Hugh. He looked at them with knowing eyes, understanding what Alice meant, Oliver thought. But unable to explain it to them.

  “Who is Venetia?” Rhys asked, “And who is this Antigone?”

  “Venetia is a tyros. She’s a mage, very good at magic that has to do with plants and such. She’s lovely and kind and very, very careful. She is not trusting. If you decide to get to know her, Oliver, you will have a hard time of it. In convincing her to trust you or want you back. You’ll want her immediately, of course.”

  Rhys snorted and then asked, “And the other?”

  It was Mariah who answered and she showed Rhys none of the deference that was his due. “She’s the granddaughter of Sir James Dellington and the daughter of a clergyman. People you can love, Rhys, are not yours for the taking. They might be prizes, but they can not be won.”

  “Then how do you get them,” Oliver asked, genuinely baffled.

  It was Hugh who answered.

  “You earn them. You beg them. You do whatever is necessary.”

  * * * * *

  “I would, but…” Oliver trailed off as he watched Alice’s delicate eyebrows rise. “You aren’t going to give me any other names until I meet her, are you?”

  “Of course she isn’t,” Hugh said, slapping Oliver on the back and settling back down with his plate. “That’s the look of you’ll do what I want or you’ll discover that I am the most stubborn female in all of Kendawyn.”

  “Is it?” Alice asked sweetly, raising her brow and Hugh grinned at her unrepentantly.

  Oliver left Alice and Hugh in the breakfast room. Mariah and Rhys followed him out. And they just heard Alice idly harassing him about the castle she’d found herself in, but their joy—even in her displeasure—made Oliver achingly jealous. When had he become so…saccharine?

  Perhaps instead of hunting up some random friend of Alice, he’d make a trip to the mortal world. George and Phoebe were taking her nephew…but no. The last thing he wanted to was trail after another happy couple. Perhaps he’d go on his own, jump to some marauding time and let his wolf loose?

  “So, you’re going to ignore her advice then?” Rhys said. His voice held no clue to his thoughts.

  “What? Why would you say that? Rhys, do you practice lurking in doorways to alarm poor passersby?”

  “I think you mean fools,” Rhys said, his eyes flared yellow with the wolf that declared he was the strongest of them all.

  Oliver shifted his feet, like a boy and asked, “Why do you say that? Surely it is…”

  “You know why I say it, Stanwullf. I say it because you asked Alice for help because you wanted it. Now you’re thinking of avoiding her advice to maintain, what? The life you aren’t enjoying. Hunt the lass up, see if she calls to your beast, and if she does…snatch her up before someone smarter and faster than you does. You don’t want to be in a George-Phoebe-Pallister situation. We almost lost our Phoebe to a man in stays.”

  Rhys was referring to the previous months when Oliver’s brother, George, found himself having to deal with another suitor of his love. The chance that George might lose his love to an idiot like Merlin Pallister haunted George even though he had Phoebe securely wed and happy.

  “What are you saying?” Oliver didn’t ask because he needed clarification. He asked because he wanted another moment to think.

  Rhys didn’t answer. He slapped the back of Oliver’s head and said, “Go after her or don’t. But if you don’t perhaps one of us others will.”

  Rhys referred to the pack of cousins—all well-born, handsome, rich, and talented. The few men in Kendawyn that might have paused Oliver’s own wolf. But instead, his wolf leapt to the fore, and he growled at his packleader, only to be swatted to the side again.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Rhys said, growl clear in his throat. He stepped forward and Oliver stepped back. They were both powerful wolves, but Rhys—he was the leader of their family
, their pack, and that was a position that Oliver didn’t want. He wasn’t a big fan of leading his little family pack with his brothers and the wolves of the baronage. The last thing Oliver wanted was to challenge a packleader who gave them the freedom they wanted and protected them from the other packs and Triumvirate.

  Oliver swallowed, nodded, and backed up another step, and Rhys calmed down immediately.

  “Perhaps, I’ll join you in checking her over.”

  Oliver growled again, but Rhys said idly, “I’m bored, Oliver. I have no interest in trying to snag a female from you. As far as I can tell, they’re a dime a dozen until they aren’t.”

  Oliver cocked his head.

  “Alice and Phoebe are priceless. But they’re priceless now. Either they’re all priceless or it something about the one.”

  Oliver nodded once, more to end the fight than because he agreed. He was far more certain that Alice and Phoebe were elusive swans in a pack of ducklings. Only they were all dressed as sheep. Or something like that. Even Oliver was confused by his thoughts. He shook his head and considered, but his wolf answered. This wolf would see the female. The hunter in him could NOT leave a possible mate unprotected and unloved.

  “We leave tomorrow,” Rhys said. “Otherwise you’ll always wonder, and then I’ll always wonder. And if I’m left sleepless by this two hundred years from now, I might torture you for whatever time remains thereafter.”

  Oliver nodded and jogged up the stairs to his rooms. Rhys would never take no for an answer, and perhaps he was right. On both fronts. Either this Venetia would capture his mind and imagination and pull in his heart after, or she wouldn’t. What could taking a look hurt?

  ******

  Venetia followed her adopted uncle into the public hall and up the steps into what would be an overly hot room, even with the magecraft to cool it. The walls were shabby with their faded wallpaper. And the floors though cleaned until they gleamed needed to be resurfaced long ago. The people of Plavington, however, would be there with wide smiles and a readiness to enjoy themselves seeing as how dances and balls were far too rare for the people of this obscure town.