His muscles shook forcefully as he restrained himself from pouncing on his brother. He turned, leaving the room in haste. Striding down the hall, he picked out the tone of her voice. He stopped, anxious to know her thoughts, her feelings, and listened to her songlike tone.
“Your lordship, I—I am sorry to disrupt you and your family. I would like conveyance in your carriage. I wish to return home.”
Damn it all…. She wanted to leave. Of course she did! What sane woman would stay in this madhouse? His hands shook with the need to possess her, lock her away, and make her accept him. His inner bear cried out in pain. Leaving was the only way to control this…. He would go for a ride. The rain, the smells of nature would calm him.
Jane sat at the table and waited for his lordship to answer. He stared after Martin, a deep, worried frown etching his face.
“My lord?”
His gaze slid to her and caressed her form. “I am sorry, Miss Milton, but our carriage needs repair, and with the rain so heavy, you will have to stay with us until the storm stops.”
The same piercing cry from the night before rang out in her head. My stars! She did not think she could handle another night in this strange house.
Something of importance had happened between the twins in the moment when Martin had left the room. Her heart still sped when she thought of how fierce Martin had been; his soft eyes had changed intensity, and she’d half expected him to howl. The transformation had frightened her. All five of the men towered above her, their shoulders as wide as a door and arms as big as the trees by the river. She was so small, so helpless surrounded by them. She did not for one instant think herself safe, as the butler had said, “in this house.”
4
Devon walked Jane from the dining hall. “My brothers are a bit rough, but they are all kind.”
She tilted up her head to assess his eyes. A cavalier playfulness swirled about him. He appeared the calmest of the brothers. Her muscles relaxed. She didn’t feel as skittish alone in his presence as she had surrounded by all the brothers.
“Did you sleep well? The storm—I mean, it was something, was it not?”
“Oh, quite. I awoke a few times but briefly.” Under no circumstance would she tell him, or anyone, her dreams. He would take her first for a simpleton and then for a wanton. The first may be true, but the second…. The image of the dark figure kneeling between her legs last night returned. Her face flushed with heat, and she bit her lip. Wicked, wicked thoughts. She was a wanton. She turned her attention back to Devon.
He nodded. “We all are quite nocturnal. It is odd to have us all assembled for the morning repast.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I—I hope you were not stirred from your bed for me.”
“I imagine we were. But we all sensed your presence anyway. I think Father wanted to see if any of us fancied you.” He smiled, and playfulness lit up his face.
She couldn’t help the giggle bubbling up her throat, and she raised her eyebrows. “A fancy would hold little consequence. I’m not of your station.”
They turned a corner down the main hall. Sweet mother! She barely came to his chest. She glanced at the tight-fitting, expensive coat, pulled taut with each breath he made. All of them were truly large. Large and handsome. She couldn’t imagine any of them actually regarding her.
“Station matters little in this family. Instincts—that is what chooses us. Rules our lives. Father is firm on it. And none of us have selected a mate for our lifetime.”
Her face flamed at such casual scandalous talk. “Sir, you shouldn’t be so informal with me.”
He gazed down at her and smiled broader. “Ah, well, that is true, but I won’t tell if you won’t.” His long lashes closed over his eyes, and the lid shape turned round.
What? She tensed and blinked to clear her vision—oh, my stars—then she stared at his eyes as the lashes opened.
What was wrong with her? This man was just a man. Madness. No one’s eyes changed shape.
“Are you well, Miss Milton? You have gone positively pale.”
“I—I…” What do I say? “I think I may have a touch of something. My vision keeps deceiving me.”
He stopped and turned toward her, his blue eyes wide, an open, concerned expression on his features. “In what way? What did you see?” His lip curved into a grin, and his eyes changed from pale, crystal-blue ovals to round, solid blue.
She jumped and stepped back away from him. Sweet mother! Chills raced down her back. “What…what are you?” The hairs on her neck stood as her whole body trembled in shock and fear.
His smile turned devious. “What an odd question to ask your host. Why, I am Devon Ursus, youngest male boar of the Clan of Tremarctos.” His eyes flashed and jumped, and the clear blue human eye returned.
“You…you…” her hand raised, and she pointed at his eyes, “are not human. What are you?” Her lips trembled, and she stepped back another step, unable to take her gaze from him in fear he would grasp her.
“Ah! That is where you are wrong, Miss Milton. I am human, only more.”
She turned and ran. She needed to get out of this house. She had no wish to know what that “more” entailed. Ever since her arrival, strange things had occurred. This house possessed evil, a witch house, a house of the devil.
She would find her way home; she didn’t care if she caught her death doing so. She didn’t belong here. She hastened her steps as she ran down the hall, Devon’s laughter echoing in the distance behind her.
“Miss Milton, I will not harm you. I only wanted you to know.”
She pushed open the large front door. The rain continued to come down in sheets. She trembled as the damp air pierced the wool of her dress, chilling the sweat gathered on her skin. She glanced beside the door. There had to be a coat, a blanket, a hat, anything she could use to shield her from the rain. Nothing.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Devon mere yards away.
“Miss Milton, please don’t be foolish. You will catch your death.”
She bolted straight out into the rain. She needed to get home to see her mother, to know that what she had just witnessed resided only in her mind. Not that being daft in the attic appealed to her, just…well, craziness seemed better than believing such could exist. Was that wrong?
The rain seeped through her wool dress in a matter of moments as she ran down the slick road fronting the house. Her feet carried her as fast as she could manage as her slippers sank into the thick mud. Just what she needed, to lose a slipper in this sludge! She curled her toes, trying to ensure the shoes stayed put as she continued her fast pace away from Tremarctos.
Thick trees lined the road. She had no idea where she was headed. Her head spun, and her vision grew hazy. She stopped to steady herself. An agonizing cry sliced through her.
Don’t leave. Where are you going? Stop!
The trees moved before her, inching in bit by bit. Her eyes widened. She’d gone mad! She swayed, the earth buckling beneath her feet as the forest closed off the road in front of her. She raised her fisted hands to her eyes and rubbed them. The forest has closed off the road. She squeezed her eyelids shut and shook her head; raindrops flew from her mane.
Pounding hooves shook the earth and vibrated through her. Sweet mother! They were after her. She darted into the thick grove of trees now covering the road. The branches were so thick she barely wiggled her way into the thicket. Her arm caught on a branch. She yanked, and the fabric of her dress tore; the bramble scraped her skin. Ouch! She wanted to cry out in pain but crushed her teeth