Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep: Werewolf Keep Trilogy, #2

By Nhys Glover

"Perfect for readers who enjoy love stories with substance and a classical supernatural touch."

Escaping one madman she runs into the arms of another...

 

In mid-Victorian England a contagion runs rampant, unbeknown to its citizens. Those afflicted are either killed or confined to a desolate pile of stones on the Yorkshire Moors called Breckenhill Keep. The denizens of that Keep loath the monsters they have become. None more so than Jasper Horton, a refined gentleman in all ways but one.

When Lady Fidelia Montgomery arrives at the Keep, seeking to escape the clutches of the madman who has killed her husband, she unwittingly unleashes the wildness Jasper has gone to such lengths to contain. His love for her puts innocent lives at risk, including Dee's own, and threatens to turn the doll-like widow into a monster he abhors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nhys Glover
• Release date: Dec 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223445388

Nhys Glover

After a lifetime of teaching others to appreciate the written word, Aussie author Nhys Glover finally decided to make the most of the Indie Book Revolution to get her own written word out to the world. Now, with more than a quarter million of her ebooks downloaded internationally and a winner of an SFR Galaxy Award for 'The Titan Drowns', Nhys finds her words, too, are being appreciated. At home in beautiful Durham County England, Nhys these days spends her time "living the dream" by looking out over the moors as she writes the kind of novels she loves to read.

Book preview

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. With the exception of historical events and people in the public domain, the names, characters and incidents portrayed in this work come wholly from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental

Cover image © Canstockphoto.com/artofphoto

Published by Belisama Press

© Nhys Glover 2013

The right of Nhys Glover to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

This book is copyright. All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

OTHER BOOKS BY NHYS GLOVER

ANCIENT ROMAN HISTORICAL ROMANCES:

Liquid Fire

The Barbarian's Mistress

Lionslayer's Woman (Sequel to Liquid Fire)

White Raven's Lover (Sequel to Barbarian's Mistress)

The Gladiator's Bride (Sequel to White Raven's Lover)

WEREWOLF KEEP TRILOGY:

Guardian of Werewolf Keep

Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep

Defiance at Werewolf Keep

Insane (A novella)

NEW ATLANTIS TIME TRAVEL SERIES:

Nine Lives (Cara/Jac)

The Dreamer's Prince (Jane/Julio)

Savage (Faith/ Luke)

Shared Soul (Maggie/Travis)

Bitter Oath (Liv/ Rene)

The Titan Drowns (Eilish/Max, Karl/Lizzie, Pia/Marco)

The Key (Kat/Bart)

Pieces (Krista/Dirk)

Second Chance (Bree/Hakon)

Watcher (Jin/Rafe)

Vision of You (Ellen/Duke)

Osiris (Takhara/Dan)

Causality (Willow/Jarvidh)

Gods of Time (Teagan/Jason, Lucien/Alba)

Book of Seeds (Shay/Cy)

Echoes of You (Josie/Chen)

Breathe (Meg/Rico)

SCORPIO SONS SF/SHIFTER ROMANCE SERIES:

1: Colton  2: Connor  3: Cooper  4: Chase

5: Cameron  6: Caleb  7: Conrad  8: Charles

GREYWORLD SWEET PARANORMAL ROMANCE

Your World or Mine?

Her World or Ours?

Their Worlds Collide

His World on Repeat

REVERSE HAREM ADVENTURES:

THE AIRLUDS TRILOGY:

The Sacrifice

The Chosen One

Goddess Unbound

THE AIRSHAN CHRONICLES

The Five

Daemon

The Devourer

GLADIATOR

1. Typhon  2.Asterius  3. Talos  4.Orion  5.Marcus

THE DANANS

Captive

Escape

Reunion

Outliers

Gift

Shattered

Stolen

PROTECTORS

Sand, Stone & Steel

Ice, Shard & Smoke

Blade, Hilt & Amphion

Galaxeans

Shadow

ALFIE WIMPLE TRILOGY (Paranormal Romantic Comedy)

Sticks and Standing Stones Can Break my Bones

But Ferrets Can Never Hurt Me

Dragons, On the Other Hand...

MINERVA’S MYSTERIES (Cozy Mysteries)

The Lost Child

The Missing Party-Girl

The Troubled Man

OTHERS:

The Way Home (Ghost Romance)

Caught in a Dream (SF Sweet Romance)

Labyrinth of Light (New Age Inspirational)

For Love of Liam (A Sweet Romanic Comedy)

Haunted (A sweetish Romantic Mystery)

Return to Me (New Age Healing Romance)

Find out more about Nhys and her books here:

www.nhys-glover.com

CHAPTER ONE

KENT Autumn 1864

Lady Fidelia Montgomery cried deep, wracking tears into her dainty lace handkerchief. The torrent pouring forth from her eyes and nose overwhelmed it, as fashion was never known for practicality. But truth be told, such a flood of tears was an unladylike display, even in the privacy of her own sitting room. She hiccoughed and tried to regain control.

‘Dee, I am so sorry. This is devastating news. Why didn’t you send word sooner? I would have come down immediately,’ declared the new Mrs. Philomena Carstairs, offering her own, somewhat larger and less lacy, handkerchief to help stem the flow.

From the look on Phil’s face, it was clear she was fighting the urge to give her the big hug she most desperately needed. But upper-class Victorian society frowned on public displays of physical affection, even in circumstances like these. So, she continued to sit across from Fidelia on the hard horsehair chaise lounge and plucked at the skirt of her beautiful, green day-dress. It was quite the height of fashion, something she was still adjusting to.

Having come into substantial wealth after the death of her father, it was clear Phil was using at least a little of that money to improve her appearance. Not that she needed beautiful clothes to make her beautiful. Phil had always been stunning, even in her threadbare apparel of recent times. But now she looked magnificent, even after the long train trip down from Yorkshire.

‘I didn’t want to disturb you. You have your new life and happiness. I didn’t want to upset that with my situation.’ She sniffed, trying to make the sound as dainty as possible.

‘You are such a goose! As if I would not want to be here for you when you have just become a widow. You are my best and, until recent times, my only true friend on earth. How could I not be here in your time of need?’

Fidelia smiled weakly and felt the tears subsiding at last. In the last few days, she hadn’t been able to stop them, day or night. It was like a deep reservoir of grief had opened up inside her at the death of Howard, and the loss of his two girls, which was disproportionate to the mild affection she felt for her little family when she had it. It was almost like she was grieving the entirety of her life rather than the loss of these people from it.

But that was absurd. Hers had been a gifted life. Born into wealth and influence, the pampered only child of affluent older members of the Ton, she had attended the best schools and coming out balls, had been offered for by the noblest of eligible men of the time, and had, for the next two and a half years, lived in this magnificent mansion in Hertfordshire where she did her best raising her husband’s two darling daughters from his previous marriage.

It was the kind of life others looked on with envy. And it had been hers until a week ago when Howard had fallen to his death, while riding to hounds. He’d only been forty-five years old.

‘I know you would have been here, darling Phil. I just did not want to disrupt your life so soon. If anyone deserves some happiness after so long without, it is you. I will recover. To be honest, I do not know where all these tears are coming from.’

‘How are the girls handling it?’

‘Oh, well enough. You know them. As long as they have each other, all’s right with the world. And Howard always kept his distance from them, so they did not really know him as a child should know a father.’ A fresh torrent of tears broke forth and soon saturated the new hanky.

‘The Duchess has taken them,’ she admitted at last. ‘She took them straight after the funeral. She said I was too young and silly to take responsibility for the upbringing of her granddaughters. I am almost twenty-two, Phil. I am not a child! Those girls would be far better off with me. You know that, do you not?’

Fidelia looked across at Phil, hoping to read agreement on her expressive face. Phil had been the girls’ governess for almost the whole time Fidelia was their stepmother. Until she came into her fortune nine months ago and left for Yorkshire. If anyone knew what was best for those girls, she did.

‘That odious woman! She was the one who always tried to get in my way when they were in my charge. Spare the rod, spoil the child, was her motto. No wonder Howard was the way he was... Oh, Dee, that was insensitive of me.’

‘No, it is all right. I would be the first to admit that Howard was not one to show affection. To bend at all, really. But I think he loved me in his own way, and I know I would have been able to mellow him, had we had more time. Two and a half years was not long enough to know a man, or to truly form the bonds of affection that marriage requires.’

‘I’m sure you are right,’ Phil muttered, her tone flat. ‘And you are certainly a better parent for those girls than that woman. But it will not be long before they are ready to marry. They can put up with their irascible grandmother until then.

‘And that termagant is right in one sense. You are too young to be raising them. Not because you are silly or unsuitable—no one who knows you would ever label you silly—but because you deserve to have the life of a young woman, not that of a middle-aged matron. Howard took you off the marriage mart too soon. You had barely begun to blossom.’

Fidelia blushed and mopped up her face again. With determination, she dropped the soggy scraps of material onto the side table. There would be no more tears now. They were done with.

‘Phil, I have to get away,’ she confided, growing more confident the longer she was in her determined friend’s company. ‘Since Howard’s accident, I just cannot stand to be in this house. It was never to my liking, being so cold and austere as it is. But it is even worse now that the girls have gone. And I will have to move out, anyway, when the legalities have been settled. The new Duke of Clarence must have this place. Can I stay with you for a while, just until I feel able to cope?’

She had expected her dearest friend to jump at the suggestion. After all, they’d been so close all these years. It had been very difficult for Fidelia when Phil moved away. Not because she lost the best governess her stepdaughters could have, but because she’d lost the companionship of her best friend and confidant. The letters they’d exchanged over the last months had not made up for their separation.

But now Phil was looking at her like a cornered doe, twisting her gloved hands as if washing them clean of some unpleasant substance.

‘Darling Dee, I would love to invite you to stay with us, but the place is full to the rafters with people already. You know my father turned the Keep into a form of retreat for those with health problems. We are close to Harrogate, you know, where the springs are well known for their therapeutic powers. If I could offer you a spare room, I would...’

‘I understand. I should not have asked. It was very impolite of me to invite myself. I just miss you. We were like sisters when you lived here with us. It was the best time of my life.’ Fidelia tried to smile, but her mouth just wouldn’t co-operate.

‘You are like a sister to me, Dee darling. I ... I wish I could invite you to stay... And I will stay here with you for the next few weeks, at least until you are feeling stronger. I just cannot invite you to stay at Breckenhill Keep.’

Even in her distress, Fidelia could pick up that something wasn’t quite right with her friend. There was something she was hiding. Maybe her inheritance and hasty marriage to the reclusive Byron Carstairs wasn’t as wonderful as she’d made it out to be in her letters. It was almost as if she was ashamed of her new home.

‘Never mind, let us change the subject. I am sure that once the initial period of mourning is over, I will feel much better. And wearing black only serves to make me feel so much worse.’ She paused as she once more remembered her marriage. ‘I may not have loved Howard as a good wife should, but I did care for him. As much as I am able.’

A fresh wave of tears threatened, but she fought it back. And this time Phil didn’t restrain herself. She flew to her side and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

‘Please do not cry anymore, Dee. You will make yourself sick. Why not visit your parents? I am sure they would love to see you. In fact, I expected to find them here.’

‘They are on the Riviera for the winter. They could not have made it back in time for the funeral, even had I asked them. And you know mother’s ague acts up at this time of year. I did not want to be responsible for her increased discomfort. She is not getting any younger, you know.

‘They won’t be back for another two months. And before you say anything, I do not want to join them. Those people on the Continent make me feel...plain and boring.’

‘You are neither plain nor boring!’ Phil disagreed, with staunch loyalty.

Fidelia managed a more genuine smile for the first time. Phil’s indignant reaction warmed her heart. Even at finishing school, she’d been the one to stand up for Fidelia against the bullies that abounded in that high-priced institution. She’d often seen Phil as her very own St Joan—without the armour and army of course—but with all the fierce belief in the rightness of her cause.

‘Thank you, dearest girl, but I am not the stunning redhead you are. Nor do I have your passionate nature. I am quiet, and I like a peaceful life. Engaging in witty repartee, like you did at my soirees, is beyond me. I stopped having them when you left, you know. They became tedious affairs without you...’

‘Howard did nothing for your confidence, did he? I wish you saw yourself as I do. You are like an exquisite china doll with that perfect skin and storm-cloud eyes that look almost violet under certain light conditions. And I would kill to have your ash blonde hair rather than this fiery mop!’ She brushed a stray curl back with a disparaging hand. ‘And you have the sweetest disposition of anyone I have ever known. I used to call you my guardian angel, you know, when mother and I were living in such dire circumstances. If not for you, I do not know what I would have done.’

Fidelia reached up and stroked her friend’s flushed cheek. Phil always coloured up when she felt passionate about something. It was one of her most endearing qualities. Whilst Fidelia always looked as pale as porcelain, her features rarely animated. The idea of being a life-sized china doll appalled her. But that was what she felt like sometimes. Just once, she would like to feel carried away by passion, to feel vital and alive.

She allowed the conversation to change, determined not to press for hospitality again. It was not in her nature to force herself on anyone. If her friend said she couldn’t find a place for her, then that would be the end of it. But oh, how she would miss Phil when she went back to her ancient Keep in the wilds of Yorkshire. And the thought that she might be in danger or unhappy for some reason disturbed her a great deal.

Maybe there was something she could do. She may not stay with Phil, but the mention of the waters at Harrogate started her thinking. What if she went to stay at one of the hotels in the area and journeyed out to the Keep one day? She could surprise Phil, without imposing herself on her. It wouldn’t be a long visit, just morning or afternoon tea. She could then repeat the visit a few days later.

She knew Phil was still a newlywed and was busy with her father’s business, but she did not doubt it would please her friend to see her once she was there. And Fidelia wanted to meet the mysterious Byron Carstairs to assure herself of his suitability. He sounded too good to be true.

CHAPTER TWO

As Fidelia waved goodbye to her friend two weeks later from the front steps of Fotherington Manor, she realised she no longer felt the desire to cry. At least that part of her ordeal was over. Phil had given her back her strength and optimism. She was now ready to engage with life once more.

During Phil’s visit, it had been like old times. They had laughed and talked as they did in their school days. But even though it had felt like old times, there had always been a shadow hanging over them. A secret unshared that threatened to break apart their hard-won connection. She wished she felt confident enough to press the issue. What use was a friend if she was too frightened to help when the need arose?

Maybe a few discrete inquiries might be enough to determine the problem. There were people on the edges of the Ton who knew everything about everyone of note. If there was a problem with this Byron Carstairs, she could find it out.

Just as she was about to turn back inside, she caught sight of a lone rider cantering down the long driveway. She paused to see who it might be. There had been a steady flow of acquaintances to her door since the funeral, most of them