Chapter Ten
Milo
To say he felt betrayed was insulting. The conversation between Milo and his wife still played over in Desmond’s ears like a terrible clap of thunder.
He found the butler lounging about in the library, doing nothing of any particular value. The desire to shift, pounce upon him and tear out his throat was so overwhelming, Desmond was forced to hide himself until the insurmountable feeling passed.
His knuckles grew hairless and he steeled himself before walking into the library.
“Have you seen my wife?” Desmond asked crisply. The phony smile froze on Milo’s lips.
“Your wife?”
“Yes, the woman I married?” Desmond shot back, his voice dripping in sarcasm. “Some might say the woman you follow about without cause?”
Milo’s smile faded entirely and he glowered.
“I only offer my services to Mrs. Waters as I do you, Mr. Waters.”
“I see. So? Have you seen her?”
He turned away and Desmond was furious with himself for not having seen the signs previously.
Nothing about him dictates proper house training. Where did Isaac find him?
It was with that question that his blood ran cold, the wind escaping his lungs in a whoosh.
Indeed, where did Isaac find him?
The picture was becoming clearer, the deception and treachery which had plagued him throughout the halls of Darkbrook.
I was blinded by my feelings for Isadora. Or should I say, Clara.
The humiliation was almost more than Desmond could bear but he dared not lose control of himself. There was nothing that could be done if he played his hand too soon. If Clara was correct and Milo was already wrought with suspicion, antagonizing him would only have him act rashly.
Of course, Desmond was not afraid for himself. There were only selected ways Milo might harm him but if Milo was working with Isaac, might he know those methods?
“I have not seen your wife.” Milo almost sounded sullen. “Not since this morning in your chambers.”
He lies with as much ease as Clara. I see he taught her all he knows.
“If you do chance upon her, please inform her I am leaving on the morrow for New York City and wish her to cover all my accounts in my absence. I may be gone for as long as one week.”
He had Milo’s attention again.
“A week?”
“Did I speak unclearly?”
“No, sir. I was merely confirming your words.”
“Consider them confirmed.”
He left Milo to ponder his words, his mind racing as he sought out Isaac.
The man was in his office, pouring over ledgers.
“Where did you locate that dimwit?” he demanded, striding into the office without warning. Isaac started at the intrusion, his eyes widening.
“What are you going on about, Desmond?”
“That imbecile, Milo. Where did you find him?”
“Oh.” Isaac looked at him with disinterest. “He came recommended to me by the Smythes in Rochester.”
It was then that Desmond knew he was in much bigger peril than he had originally thought.
Isaac brought him here purposely. Him and Clara. Father has no knowledge of this whatsoever.
More bile threatened to surface up his windpipe. He needed to send word to his father, to tell him what treachery his trusted barrister had engaged in.
He has been intercepting the mail, blocking my correspondences out.
“Isaac, I have had it with his incompetence,” Desmond continued as the man turned back to his work. “Moreover, he is insolent and he acts inappropriately about my wife. I will not endure this a moment longer.”
Isaac’s head jerked upward and he met Desmond’s eye.
“Acts inappropriately how?”
“I am told that he stalks about her and often corners her.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Do not force me to act myself, Isaac. I do not need to tell you what occurs when my temper is ignited.”
“You must not prey on the servants, Desmond,” Isaac sighed as he rose from his desk. “I will ensure that Milo knows his place until I can find a suitable replacement for the household.”
“I will ask Isadora to find a new butler. I have given what you said a great deal of thought—you are correct, as always. A household this size does need a much larger staff. With all the duties Isadora has taken on, assisting me with my accounts, we will need all the help we can afford.”
“I can easily find staff,” Isaac protested but Desmond waved his hand dismissively.
“After the mess you made with this dunce, I daresay I do not trust your judgement in the least. Do remind me to write the Smythes and demand to know how they could possibly recommend such an ape.”
“I will remind you,” Isaac murmured and Desmond heard the worry in his voice.
“Oh,” Desmond called as though it was an afterthought. “Have you heard from my father yet? I am growing quite concerned so I have penned the pack in Britain. I have sent the letters already.”
He stared deadpan at Isaac who turned translucent.
“Y-you penned the pack as to your father’s whereabouts? I-I already told you he was in the Orient!”
“It is unlike him to go without contact for so long,” Desmond insisted. “And let us admit it between us, Isaac, he is getting quite ancient. God forbid something happened on his journey.”
“I-I am certain he is well.”
“I am merely being an alarmist,” Desmond chuckled, forcing mirth into his tone. “But we shall see. Do keep your eyes on the mail. I have written everyone in my address book.”
Desmond watched as Isaac sank back into his chair, undoubtedly wondering how he would be able to explain away dozens of missing letters.
He may have intercepted the correspondences between Father and me but he will not get away with the pack’s letters. He knows he is trapped. What will his next move be?
All Desmond could do was wait and see.
“Why are you sitting?” Desmond demanded crossly. “Deal with that man before I lose my patience entirely!”
He watched Isaac scramble back to his feet and for the first time in years, he was filled with the sense of power to which he was entitled.
I will show everyone in this house that I am the rightful alpha heir in a way that no one will ever again question me.
~ ~ ~
Without Clara sleeping warmly at his side, Desmond was no longer able to rest comfortably and he was back to prowling through the halls of Darkbrook, his pulse driving through his body at a dangerous pace.
He slipped by Clara’s room several times, the temptation to enter and wrap her in his arms dizzying, but he dared not. Bridget had remained faithfully at her side as he had instructed. It was not so much that Desmond worried what the servant would think if he entered but that he did not yet know how to address the obvious betrayal he had endured.
Of course, he knew that Clara had been forced into the life she led and if she had been given a choice, she would not marry one man after another to steal his fortune.
Or so he hoped.
The issue was the feelings of love he had felt for her since the moment he had first cast his eyes upon her face.
Was it real or part of her act?
It was impossible to know and even though he was mostly certain that she did care for him, he could not easily release the feeling of resentment he felt toward her.
There were many opportunities for her to tell me who she was, he reasoned but he also knew it was unfair when she did not know the truth about him.
We all have secrets, he mused but before he could entertain the notion further, the sound of footfalls distracted him from the doorway of Clara’s room where he stood.
It was only a matter of time, he thought grimly, following the sound into the dark.
He knew inherently it was his barrister stalking through the halls, looking to meet Milo covertly. Desmond had been waiting for the moment since confronting Isaac earlier and as he followed his fellow Lycan through the English maze toward the cottage at the core, he braced himself for what else he might learn.
Desmond knew he could not act until he had all the information he required.
And then there will be hell to pay, he thought with confidence.
He watched Isaac disappear inside the cottage, apparently unaware that he had been trailed, and Desmond was at the window in seconds.
The two men were already deep in conversation, their brows furrowed, depicting the depth of their concern.
They are quaking in their boots. As they should be.
Slowly, he transformed himself into the beast at his center, his acute sense of hearing amplified intensely.
“You must leave here at once,” Isaac told him. “It is no longer safe for you or Clara.”
“Leave?” Milo scoffed. “I will not leave when the monies are so close to my hand. Desmond leaves on the morrow for the city and all the accounts will be in Clara’s hands. Why in God’s name would I leave?”
“You fool!” Isaac hissed. “He is going nowhere! He is suspicious of you and is plotting his move! You must leave before he learns we are in cahoots or there will be a reckoning from which you will not recover.”
Milo’s face twisted into a scowling leer.
“Do I seem afraid to you?” he scoffed. “I have dealt with much worse than Desmond Waters.”
“You have not!” Isaac growled. “You have no idea!”
Milo does not know about my Lycanthropy.
He realized that he had a much better hand than he thought. Without Milo knowing his weaknesses, there was no danger. Judgment would be swift and merciless.
And then I will deal with Isaac.
“You sought me!” Milo growled. “I will not leave here empty-handed, especially not when my girl has been compromised.”
“Your girl in love,” Isaac snarled. “You would be wise to leave her behind and be gone by the time day breaks.”
“You are a fool if you think I will simply walk away.”
They glowered at one another but Desmond already knew who would end up on the winning end of this argument. There was no question.
He waited for the inevitable shift as Isaac realized that Milo would not be reasoned with.
“I am giving you one final chance to walk away from here, unscathed,” Isaac told the butler. “But if you refuse, Milo, I fear you will die quite horribly.”
Milo laughed again, flashing an array of uneven teeth before drawing a pistol from his waist.
“You dare threaten me?” Milo snapped, his eyes glittering maliciously. “You have no right to send me away with nothing. If I am to face the reckoning, you will do the same!”
Isaac sighed at precisely the same moment as Desmond and, before Milo could react, pounced directly forward, his wolf-like body knocking the man to the ground.
“What in tarnation?” Milo choked but the words were barely out of his mouth when Isaac lowered his salivating snout into Milo’s throat and tore viciously at the flesh, silencing his screams.
Desmond waited until Isaac had fully feasted upon the mangled corpse of the man before rising back onto his hind legs and kicking the door inward.
Isaac snarled, his face smeared with red.
“What are you doing here?” Isaac rasped, licking his long tongue along the fur of his face.
“I might ask you the same.”
“You had a problem and I fixed it for you.”
Desmond snarled angrily. “You think I do not know the part you played in this?” he demanded. “You brought them here. Why?”
Isaac fell back and howled loudly in frustration.
“There is nothing you can do for yourself,” he panted, falling away from Milo’s dead body to face off with the alpha’s son. “You have needed me for everything!”
“What are you going on about? You brought conmen into my home, falsified a marriage and arranged to have me robbed. This imbecile would have tried to kill me and for what?”
Desmond could not understand any of it and he feared that he might not learn the answers before finishing Isaac.
“For what?” Isaac asked in disbelief. “To show your father that you are not worthy of being alpha! He is so blind to your incompetence that he permits you to get away with murder, literal murder! You have killed anyone who ventured upon your fields, causing a scandal which I was left to tend! I am a barrister, not a governess! I should never have been sent here to watch over you and yet here I remain.”
“You thought this was a sure way out of the colonies?” Desmond demanded. “That was the best way you could envision escape? With treachery? Have you considered what you put Clara through?”
“She is a willing party,” Isaac hissed. “You are a fool if you believe she loves you.”
And from that moment, Desmond only saw red.