Defiance at Werewolf Keep: Werewolf Keep Trilogy, #3

By Nhys Glover

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

A werewolf who has found his mate is a very dangerous creature!

 

Having the werewolf contagion has advantages Lily, a terminally ill invalid, discovers when she is infected by a beast in the walled garden of her home. However, along with renewed health and strength come challenges.  She must leave her home and loved ones to move to an ancient Keep in Yorkshire, spend three nights a month locked in a dungeon and, most challenging of all, deal with the unexpected attentions of an attractive man whose wolf is determined to claim hers as its mate.

 

Will, the tough Scottish enforcer of Breckenhill Keep has always found his werewolf side easy to bear. But when he meets the fragile Lily, his angry, closed-off way of life is turned upside down. His wolf wants hers, and though he knows he's not good enough for the young, innocent woman, he must convince her to accept him. His only other alternative is to have his best friend put a bullet in his brain.

 

Because a thwarted werewolf who has found his mate is a very dangerous creature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nhys Glover
• Release date: Dec 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224731619

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

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

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

LONDON AUTUMN 1865 

THE FARNSWORTHS LIVED in well-appointed comfort above their small haberdashery shop. It sat at the very end of a row of regency terraces in a well-to-do outer suburb of London. On that fine early autumn morning of 1865 Lily, the only child of the aging proprietor and his wife, made her way down the steep stairs that led to their flat, marvelling at the ease with which she made the journey.

A short time ago, she could barely get out of bed, so weak had she been. Now, even after the horrendous attack that had occurred just over a week ago in their garden, she felt stronger and healthier than she could ever remember being.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard the bell tinkle above the shop door. For no reason she understood, she paused before pushing aside the curtain divider that separated the back of the shop from the front. Staying hidden, she peered out at the new customer who had entered their domain.

If ‘customer’ was what he was. The arrival of such a tall, imposing stranger was something of an anomaly. It was a rarity for any man to shop, or even enter, this feminine establishment. But for such a man as this to do so was unprecedented.

Their little corner shop was a marvel to her, cluttered as it was with colourful fabrics from around the world. It had always felt like a wonderland, as she was growing up, rather than just a haberdashery meeting the needs of their well-off customer for silks, ribbons and other fripperies.

She imagined the exotic places the cloth had come from and the people who had made it. What might their lives be like? What might their dresses and suits be like? Lilly had seen pictures in books, but none of them gave her the true sense of the people.

Drawing her mind back from its wanderings, she focused on the here and now. Now, their little world had been invaded by a proverbial bull in a china shop. The granite faced giant was out-of-place like no other, although he gave no indication that he felt that way. Cautious, yes. Uncomfortable, no.

Lily felt a thrill of unexpected excitement combine with her budding anxiety as she watched her father clasp a roll of fine lawn to his chest and look up at the stranger.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ Henry Farnsworth asked tentatively, watching the big man scan the room. He appeared to be looking for something that wasn’t on the shelves.

‘I am Byron Carstairs, the Lord of Breckenhill Keep. The authorities informed me that a young woman was attacked on these premises not long ago. Is that so?’

‘Ah yes, sir, my daughter Lily, that was. It was just over a week ago, on an unusually hot night for this late in the year. I had carried my girl down into the walled garden at the back of the shop for some fresh air before bedtime.’

Her father began his much-practised tale for his latest listener. For many days after the attack, there had been a steady increase in customers as the neighbourhood came in to get the news straight from the horse’s mouth. Her papa had been quick to make the most of the opportunity to both sell more fabric and take centre stage.

Not that he would ever think to do so at her expense. Her father loved her with every breath in his body. She knew that well. But he was not averse to gleaning every advantage that came his way. Now, as he went on with his story, her father seemed to grow taller and more imposing with each word.  

‘I had gone into the house to get her the cold lemonade my dear wife was preparing for her when that madman climbed over the wall and attacked my girl. I didn’t hear her screams, or I would have been out there in an instant. Lucky for her, the constabulary chasing the madman was not far behind. He shot the man before he could end her life. Had he been a few minutes later, he might not have been able to save her. As it was, the three wounds the madman cut into my poor Lily’s body almost did the job of ending her, anyway.’

Henry shuddered as he paused for effect. Or was it because he was remembering what the wound had looked like that night—deep, straight and ugly—bleeding away what little blood she still had after so many leechings by the physician?

‘We didn’t think she’d live the night through, invalid that she has been all the twenty-five years of her life. The shock, you know, could have stopped her weak heart. And the blood loss was terrible. However, she has recovered well, I’m happy to say.’

Her father couldn’t keep the delight from his voice, even as his hands trembled so much he appeared ready to drop the roll of lawn.

This was unusual. Could the story be affecting him more keenly today than on any other occasion? Or was it just his silent listener that distressed him? Whatever the cause, to stop himself from dropping the fabric, Henry set the roll down with a thud on the measuring table.

Disquiet was catching. Lily felt the icy fingers of fear run down her spine. What did this huge lord want with her? She was nobody. Less than nobody. Her only claim to notoriety in the past had been her sickliness, and in the present, her brush with death at the hands of a madman. Why would that incident interest such a man as this?

The tall gentleman attempted a polite smile, but his eyes remained sombre, even worried—if the distance between them didn’t mislead her. Her eyesight had never been good. Although, of late, it had seemed almost exceptional.

‘Yes, I had heard such. Is your daughter about, Mr Farnsworth? I would like to speak with her, if I may.’

‘Certainly, sir, but may I be so bold as to inquire what this is about?’

For a moment, the man was silent, appearing to weigh up whether to talk to him or wait for his daughter.

Then, with a decisive nod, he said, ‘Sir, I regret to inform you that the madman who attacked your daughter was infected with a rare illness, which he may well have passed onto her. We will need to isolate her for a time until we can determine if she has been infected.’

Lily felt as if the stranger had torn out her heart. Fear, unlike any she had known before, stole the air from her lungs. How could this be, when she had started to feel so good in the last few days? It had seemed like a miracle. Even the nasty wounds had healed up with remarkable speed.

No. The gentleman was wrong about her. He had to be!

Similar thoughts must have been passing through her father’s mind because he blanched and his hands began trembling even more. ‘No, oh no! Lily is as hale and hearty as she has ever been. More so. She harbours no infection.’

‘One of the symptoms of this disease is that the injured person recovers with remarkable speed and seems to have much improved good health. Your daughter was an invalid, you say, and now she is not? I am afraid that does not bode well.

‘But please, do not fear. This infection is not life-threatening. In fact, she will continue to exhibit good health and live a long life with the condition. But there are symptoms that are not as welcome as physical well-being, and the ailment is highly contagious, especially as time passes.’ He paused before making his last request. ‘Please, will you fetch her for me?’

‘Lily is in perfect health, sir, you can fear not—‘ Henry argued.

Lily knew there was no point in staying hidden any longer. Her father might try to protect her, but from the man’s imposing presence, it was clear Carstairs would not brook opposition for long. Better for everyone if she just presented herself and discovered more about this new, terrible illness she had contracted.

It seemed almost laughable that she might have to add yet another physical complaint to her overabundance supply of them. Her heart was weak, as was her blood. Lungs, which had not had the chance to fully develop before her untimely birth, were forever becoming congested, making breathing a struggle. Even her bones were a problem, being so fragile they broke at the least pressure.

Well, that had been the case until the attack. Now those weaknesses had disappeared. She hoped for good. Could one illness counteract all others? It seemed impossible.

But hiding like a coward wouldn’t solve her problem. Like she handled all the challenges in her life, she squared her shoulders and faced it head on. Fear, even terror like this, would not get the better of her.

She pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the shop. ‘Please, Papa, do not upset yourself. I am here and will talk to this gentleman.’

Lily wondered what this man saw when he looked at her. She knew he would see a young, overly-thin spinster dressed in a lavender cotton day dress with wispy golden brown hair neatly pulled back into a knot at the back of her head. Her eyes, she knew, were so big they dwarfed the rest of her features. In this moment, she wondered if those eyes her father had dubbed violet-blue were now filled with the dread she was feeling, or whether she had masked her overwrought emotions with the serenity she had been striving for.

‘Ah, Miss Lily Farnsworth, I presume. I am Byron Carstairs of Breckenhill Keep.’  

At that moment, the bell for the shop door sounded again, and another imposing man entered. This one was older than the first, perhaps in his mid to late thirties. His black hair had already begun to grey and his build and poorly repaired broken nose marked him as a ruffian. There was a wildness about the man, and a threat in his stance. His well-muscled upper body leaned forward as he strode in, his enormous arms tensed at his side.

‘Will,’ Byron greeted the ruffian. ‘Any word on the streets?’      

‘No more injuries that the locals are aware of.’ The man’s slightly accented reply marked him as a Scot. He, too, scanned his surroundings as if checking for danger. Both men had a disturbing intensity that Lily found disconcerting.

‘It was lucky the madman hurt no one else,’ Lily supplied, though she still didn’t feel truthful calling her attacker a ‘man’.

Certainly, the dead body found next to her in the garden had been that of a naked man. Her father had seen it with his own eyes. But she had seen no man. In fact, she had no memory of the attack at all, having woken in her own bed in the morning to find a bandage on her shoulder and a slight muzziness in her head. An all-too-familiar laudanum dose had caused the last.

It was only her nightmares that offered insight into what had happened that night. And they didn’t match up with the events they described to her.

‘Good, that is a relief. Then it is only you, Miss Farnsworth, who is in danger of infection. As I was telling your father, the madman was suffering from a rare contagion at the time he attacked you. He may well have passed that contagion to you. There is nothing to worry about. It is not life-threatening. But we will need to quarantine you for a period,’ he told her.

‘Where would you be taking her, sir?’ Henry demanded, shocked and terrified by the sudden change in circumstances.

‘To my Keep in Yorkshire. You need not worry. She will have a proper chaperone, and we will care for as you would yourself. You can write to her there, and visit her, once we are certain her condition is under control.’

‘Yorkshire? But ... that is so far away. There must be an institution closer at hand. I cannot travel to Yorkshire to visit my daughter, as I am a businessman. I never leave my shop.’

‘We are the best facility in the country for this condition. Your daughter will be in safe hands.’

The man called Byron Carstairs seemed ill-at-ease dealing with her father’s concerns. He appeared more inclined to give orders, and expect them to be obeyed, than placate an anxious father, as he was being forced to do right now.

Henry looked at Lily, his face bleached of colour. Though her heart was beating like a timpani drum in her chest, she smiled her reassurance and covered his shaking hands with her own. Turning to Carstairs, she nodded her agreement. fear having stolen her ability to speak.

‘No, I won’t hear of it!’ her father cried, clutching her hands so tight she was terrified they would break.

Her Papa must also have realised this, for he released her with a start and stepped away.

‘Papa, dearest, if these men say I have a contagion, then I must avoid infecting others. Are you a physician, sir?’ She looked Byron straight in the eyes, trying not to show any of the fear she was feeling.

If she showed her fear, her father might do something drastic to keep her safe. He wouldn’t have a chance of defending her against these two much younger giants.

‘No. I am not a physician, Miss. It is my Keep they commandeered for this purpose. I am a mere deliveryman, of sorts. I have a doctor’s statement here, if you or your parents require more details. And one from Scotland Yard verifying my right to remove you to my sanctuary.’

She took the papers he offered and studied them for a moment, before passing them to her father.

‘It would seem my presence is required in Yorkshire, Papa. I am sure I will be home in no time. It is just a precaution. At this time of year, I imagine the moors are rather beautiful. There’s heather there, is there not, as there is in the Scottish Highlands?’

It was the man called Will who answered her. ‘Aye, there is indeed, lass, and it’s a bonnie sight.’

Lily looked at the man more closely. At first glance, all one saw was a rough, aging, soldier-of-fortune, but beneath that she glimpsed something finer, gentler. This was a man who could as easily comfort a sick child as wield a bayonet. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did, and it gave her more reassurance than anything said or done since the two men entered the shop.

‘When must I leave?’ she asked, lifting her chin as if preparing for more blows.

‘There will be a train leaving London first thing tomorrow morning. I would like to be on it. It is a long trip: seven hours. But we will travel First Class, so it will not be too onerous. Also, you will have a female chaperone on the way. Lady Fidelia Horton has been visiting her mother in London, but will be returning with us tomorrow. I am sure you will enjoy her companionship.’

‘I’m sure I shall,’ Lily replied, as her heart giving an eager little leap.

In the twenty-five years of her life,