“Good night, Neville,” he said as he passed the other man.
Dressed impeccably, salt-and-pepper hair combed back neatly, and his upper body stiff as a board, the older man gave him a short nod before opening the door. “Good night, my lord.”
He headed directly to his coach and soon was on his way home. As a wedding present, his father had presented them with the lovely little townhouse on Cowley Street. Joanna was disappointed at the size and location, thinking that it was unfair of his parents to give them such a small place, especially compared to their sprawling mansion. He had to explain to her that Hunter House was the home of the Duke of Huntington, a title which Reed would not—and hoped not to—inherit for a long while, seeing as his father was still young and healthy.
It was really the only time he’d argued with her, as he thought she was being ungrateful. She apologized quickly, and that was that. Indeed, he counted himself lucky, as a love match was rare for someone of their standing. And now, he would secure his legacy with an heir, and maybe a spare if he was lucky.
His inner wolf let out a dissatisfied sound.
What the devil was wrong with it?
The coach stopping interrupted his thoughts. His driver opened the door and he quickly alighted, eager to be inside and slip into bed with his wife. His pacing was rather fast, so he did wait a few seconds for the door to open but found himself frowning when it stayed shut despite having reached it. Usually, the butler would have opened it by now.
That damned Foxworth. Joanna had insisted on taking on her family’s underbutler to run their own house, but Reed had never liked him. Not only was he too young and inexperienced, but he had an air of impertinence Reed didn’t care for.
Faced with the choice of standing outside the whole night or the indignity of having to knock at his own door, he chose the latter.
His keen ears picked up footsteps, followed by the sound of the key slipping into the lock. “What the bloody hell—my lord!” Wide brown eyes stared up at him, and Foxworth’s face was as pale as a sheet. “W-w-what are you … I mean …” He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. “Good evening, my lord. Apologies, we—I was not expecting you home so early.”
His eyes narrowed on Foxworth, and his sensitive nose picked up the scent of alcohol from his breath. Hopefully, the butler had his own bottle stashed away and hadn’t been dipping into the decanter of fine Scottish whiskey in the office “I was feeling rather weary after a long day.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Foxworth?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Do you think I could come into my own home?” He raised a brow at the butler who was standing in the doorway blocking his way.
If it was possible, Foxworth got even paler. “Uh, of course, my lord.”
As the butler stepped aside, he resolved to talk to Joanna tomorrow about finding a new butler. It really wasn’t proper—
His wolf’s hackles rose, and Reed instantly went on alert. His body stiffened, and his animal’s ears perked up. There was unusual movement coming from the second floor—the bedroom. Joanna.
He raced up the stairs, using his supernatural speed to get to the bedroom in seconds. Still, it seemed like forever, and his mind raced with possibilities. A burglar who thought the house would be empty. Or maybe someone who saw him leave alone for the evening, out to target his vulnerable wife.
The door made a thunderous thud as it hit the wall when he threw it open. The bedroom was dark, but his Lycan eyes could see everything clearly. And the sight before him was not what he expected.
A shriek pierced the air, followed by a loud crash as a very male—very naked—body hit the floor. “I specifically said I did not want to be disturbed—” Joanna’s eyes went wide as she yanked the sheet over her bare breasts. “Reed?”
Anger vibrated through him, and he turned his sights on the figure getting up from the floor. He stalked toward the man, his hands reaching out for his throat. His wolf roared, urging him on, and he let out a growl.
“No!” Joanna leapt from the bed, the sheet around her body and stepped between the two men. “Reed, be reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” he choked out. The muscles under his skin began to contract and ripple as his wolf begged to be let out.
Joanna’s eyes bulged. “He’s … he’s not …”
A quick sniff in the air told him what she was trying to say. Human. Using every ounce of his control, he tamped his wolf’s instincts down. Thank goodness he didn’t shift into his wolf form or their secret would be revealed.
Focusing his eyes, he recognized the other man. “Sherrington?”
Lord Jeremy Sherrington nodded as he swallowed audibly. “Wakefield,” he mumbled. “I … I must say this is awkward.”
That word didn’t even begin to describe the situation.
Sherrington scratched his head. “I suppose you’d like to call me out.”
“Call you out?”
“Pistols? At dawn?”
He glanced at his wife. His cheating, harlot of a wife. Duel for her? Sherrington had to be kidding. “No, I don’t suppose I will.” He pivoted on his heel, his rage freezing over the white-hot sting of betrayal, and he walked out of the door.
“Reed? Reed!”
He was halfway down the hallway when he heard the footsteps behind him.
“Reed, please!” Joanna cried, her claw-like fingers digging into his arm. “It’s not what you think—”
“It’s not what I think?” He stopped, then turned to face her. “Then explain to me what I saw in there.”
“It’s just … this is …” Her face went scarlet, and she blew out a breath. “He was just a distraction,
