Ached for her, but not with desire, though there was that too. What he was experiencing was a loss and he needed to be by her side. Where he was empty, he ached, and that needed to be filled.

  There was no explanation and something that he must fight because he certainly could not sleep with Antonia, or she’d be ruined beyond repair.

  Though, if he did, they’d need to marry, and then his emptiness inside would no longer exist.

  Except, no woman wanted to be married to a wolf and he could not even contemplate a future until he knew what his was going to be.

  Philip rolled to his other side, bunched the pillow again and tried to clear his mind of Antonia. He should be bloody exhausted and be falling into a dreamless sleep. He’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, and nothing should be occupying his mind at this time. He should be beyond thought, but he ached.

  He was lonely.

  After nearly an hour, Philip finally gave up.

  As impossible as it was to believe, he would get no sleep when he desperately needed it.

  Maybe brandy.

  With those thoughts, he rose from his bed and then stepped out into the corridor without bothering to repair his appearance or put on his boots. It was a home belonging to his cousins, but he had spent enough days here that it could be his as well. If he encountered anyone in the library, they would be family, so it didn’t matter. He’d drink his brandy, numb his soul and return to bed.

  Except, it wasn’t a family member that he encountered before reaching the stairs, but Antonia.

  “What is wrong?” he asked.

  “I cannot sleep.”

  Was it possible…he didn’t want to complete the thought because it would make him hopeful that she was experiencing what he was.

  “Do you know why?” It was better that he asked her than if she asked him.

  “It’s nothing that I can explain.”

  Maybe she was afraid to tell him, or confess, as he was. “Give me your hand,” Philip said as he held out his.

  Antonia frowned then placed her small, delicate hand in his. The moment they touched, his entire being relaxed, and she sighed, her shoulders dropping.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “I do not know. But I am glad that it is not only me.”

  “The spell, perhaps?”

  “I am not certain, but it wasn’t this strong until in the garden last night.”

  There had been something, an underlying connection since London. She had experienced a calmness near him, and he had been drawn to her without reason. But once they were in the circle, and held hands, they became attached. One instead of two.

  “Magical bind?”

  “Possibly, but I do not know why.” She looked up into his eyes. “Do you wish me to find a way to break it?”

  “Perhaps after we’ve reversed the other spell. The one that makes me hairy.”

  Her chuckle was light. “But if it is not broken, it will be impossible to rest without you near.”

  “Then we shall rest together as it is the same for me.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “We cannot. It is unseemly. What will…”

  Philip placed a finger against her lips. “We will explain if anyone learns.”

  She blinked at him.

  “Just for now. We are both exhausted and perhaps when we are reading the journals later, we will come across something for this, whatever it is, but we will both be useless in our pursuit of a proper spell if we do not sleep.”

  Antonia blew out a sigh then stepped back into her chamber, not letting go of his hand. And he followed.

  She only let go long enough to crawl into her bed and pulled the cover up to her chin.

  Philip was not a stranger to being in the bedchamber of a woman, yet this was the first time that desire wasn’t the reason. Though, if he hadn’t been so exhausted, Philip had no doubt that desire would be the reigning need within him. Instead, it was to be whole and with that, he crawled onto the bed, above the covers then rolled, putting his back to hers, though they still touched.

  It helped some, but not enough.

  Antonia withdrew her arm from beneath the coverlet and rested it along her side.

  Philip reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers and in that moment, his mind calmed, his emptiness filled, and he recalled nothing else until someone gently shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find his mother hovering.

  It took him a moment to realize where he was. Antonia was still at his back, and they were still holding hands.

  His fate and future had just been sealed.

  Antonia woke suddenly, an emptiness filled her, and she could not understand why.

  Yet, she felt rested. More so than ever before.

  Sunlight streamed through the window, and she jumped from the bed, alarmed that she had slept so late.

  It had been morning when she finally found her slumber, but now she feared that it was afternoon.

  After quickly changing into a dress and fixing her hair, Antonia left her chamber, anxious to return to the vault.

  There were now three spells, or at least answers that she was looking for: first, the original to mask the emotions of others. Not totally, but enough so that she was not so overwhelmed; the second, and most important, to find a way to reverse the wolf spell; and third, to determine why she and Chedworth suffered from the need to be near the other—touching.

  When he had joined her in bed last night, an ease and comfort settled within her. Then, when he took her hand, peace filled her soul and that is the last Antonia remembered before waking. She had not even dreamed. She nearly always dreamed.

  When Antonia entered the breakfast room, her friends were seated, which meant that she was not the only one who had slept late. And Chedworth was filling his plate from the sideboard. The food was a mixture of breakfast items and luncheon. It was likely Cook wasn’t certain what to prepare given the odd hours that they’d all slept.

  If anyone knew that he had slumbered in her chamber, she would be ruined beyond repair even though it had been quite innocent.

  “Do you think we will read all the journals along the aisles today?” Samantha asked.

  “We do not have many more to go,” Petra said. “And I will be glad to know everything that is contained on those shelves.”

  Maia snorted. “I will never remember. There should be a list somewhere to keep from having to search.”

  “Once the items are reviewed, there are still shelves of books that are full of spells from the past few centuries,” Petra said to which Maia groaned.

  “If it were just the veiling spell, I would ask you to quit because there is too much to read,” Antonia said. “I was given this gift, and perhaps this is how it is meant to be felt and I’ll just need to accept it.” Though she really would like some relief so that she could enjoy at least one ball.

  “We would still look for that even if that was all,” Maia insisted. “But curing my cousin is also important. I don’t think I want Chedworth to be a werewolf.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” Chedworth nearly snorted.

  “It is far more important than the veiling spell,” Antonia insisted.

  “True,” Maia admitted. “We would need to build a cage in the cellar, I suppose, and lock him away every full moon.”

  “That would be dreadful.” And he’d likely never forgive her.

  “Yet, it may be required,” Chedworth said quietly, and Antonia truly hoped that it never came to be.

  “Not necessarily true,” Lady Wharton offered. “Do any of you know how the werewolf, or a Lycan, came about?”

  Antonia did not know and glanced at her friends.

  “I remember hearing something of the legend but cannot recall the details,” Petra admitted.

  “Lycaon was a king of Arcadia and one night Zeus visited Arcadia in human form and then revealed himself as a god. While the people worshipped Zeus, Lycaon mocked them. He served a meal which included human flesh to Zeus and then intended to kill him in his sleep.”

  Antonia lost her appetite and pushed her plate away.

  “Zeus became aware of the trick Lycaon was trying to play on him and knew what was served to him. Furious, Zeus, in turn, and as punishment, transformed Lycaon into a wolf who then ran over the plains, howling when he attempted to speak. Zeus also destroyed Lycaon’s house with thunderbolts.”

  “Ah, I think I recall reading the tale,” Maia said.

  “Lycaon’s transformation into a wolf is found in Ovid’s and Pausanias’ versions of Greek history.” Lady Wharton smiled. “What others consider Greek mythology.”

  “Is a cure mentioned in either story?” Antonia asked. Had they been looking in the wrong place? Should she be reading one of the ancient texts instead?

  “Not one that would help my nephew,” she answered. “Unless he wished to wait seven more years.”

  That was not even to be a consideration. They needed to reverse the spell before the twenty-seventh, and it was already the sixteenth.

  “Why seven years?” Maia asked.

  “If when the man is the wolf, he abstains from human flesh for seven years, he becomes a man again. But if he tastes human flesh, he remains a beast forever.”

  Maia grimaced. “I do not think we need to worry about Philip doing that.”

  “I would hope not,” Chedworth agreed. “Though as a wolf, if I was free, would I know better?”

  “Thus, the cage.” Maia shrugged.

  “I suggest we return to the vault as soon as we’ve finished breaking our fast,” Petra offered.

  Antonia was no longer hungry given they’d just been talking about men eating humans.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Philip knew that his mother was waiting to see him. The only reason she had not insisted on an audience immediately was because she knew he was likely very hungry. It had been hours since he’d eaten, and if he was going to spend the rest of the day and evening in the vault, and then transform at midnight, he needed sustenance. Once he had finished his meal, instead of following the others to the vault, he followed his mother to the back parlor and waited for her lecture as he closed the door behind him.

  He already knew what she was going to say, and he was prepared to offer for Antonia.

  It did not matter that all they had done was sleep. The fact remained that he’d been in her chamber, on her bed beside her, sleeping. And they’d been discovered.

  He still didn’t understand why his mother had gone into Antonia’s chamber, unless her maid had found them and alerted her, which was likely the case. Once one maid knew, it would not be long before every servant at Nightshade Manor knew as well, nor would it be long before it was mentioned to a cousin, and then everyone would know. Likely before supper.

  “Are you in love with Lady Antonia?”

  Philip blinked at his mother. He was expecting to be chastised for his behavior, but she was more thoughtful.

  “Honestly, I am not certain.” He did care for her. He was drawn and pulled to her. An ache developed in his chest when she was not near, and that space inside his soul was empty. A place that only she could fill. Perhaps that was love, but he was not ready to attach an emotion to it just yet. Especially not something so important as love.

  “Why were you in her bedchamber, sleeping on her bed?”

  “It is not what you think,” he said and took a chair across from her.

  “I may have imagined one thing but saw something quite different when I entered the chamber.” She smiled.

  “Why did you?” he asked.

  “A maid went in to wake Lady Antonia but instead, left and reported to me.”

  Bloody hell! He was right. In no time, all Nightshade Manor will know.

  “She will not tell anyone,” his mother promised.

  “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  “Had you been under the coverlet and disrobed, it would be another issue,” his mother said. Instead, she was under the covers, you were on top, backs to each other and only fingers entwined. Had you been lovers…”

  This was not something he was going to discuss with his mother.

  “Why were you there?” she asked.

  “Perhaps you could tell me.” Philip then described the pull, the emptiness, the unable to rest until they were holding hands.

  She said nothing, simply nodded.

  “Why do you think that is?” He already anticipated her answer of being fated mates, stuff and nonsense that he’d heard since he was a child. Perhaps he and Antonia were that, but it would likely never be, especially if he was going to turn into a wolf.

  “You are bound by a spell,” she said.

  He stood so suddenly that the chair tipped but did not go over. “Another bloody spell!”

  “Not cast on you, or her, but because of the one already cast.”

  He sat back down with a frown. “What do you mean?”

  “You were unintentionally altered by a spell that should not have had any effect on you whatsoever because it was not complete. She cast that spell, which is the first link. Then, when she tried to discover what else was written as part of the spell, you were the only one with her in the gardens. If Antonia performed it correctly, the two of you held hands.”

  He nodded.

  “She pulled in your strength, and she gave you her magic. The two became linked which formed this bond.”

  “Will it go away?” he asked. While he enjoyed being near Antonia, he did not want to suffer the ache or loneliness, emptiness, whenever they were parted.

  “Likely,” his mother answered. “Except, you were attracted to her in London.”

  “For a time,” he answered. He’d gotten fed up when she continually ran out on him and was never at home. Except, he now understood and truly wished she would have told him then. Philip would have tried to shield her somehow, but short of taking her from every entertainment before it became too much, there was nothing else he could have done.

  Why had her parents put Antonia through so much. He understood that they may wish to see her wed, but had it ever occurred to them to invite guests into their home so that Antonia did not have to leave? Yet, what kind of life would that have been, to be sequestered in a home, or in a park where she could distance herself from people?

  He well understood why his cousins and their friend were helping Antonia find a veiling spell. It was the only thing that could free her from what she called noise.

  “And Lady Antonia only liked you.”

  “Calmness,” he answered. “She was attracted to the truth and calmness within me.”

  His mother quirked a brow. “She was still attracted to you.”

  “It was what I presented and nothing more,” Philip argued. Until they put these spells behind them, he could not think of the reasons why they shared an attraction before being linked at Nightshade Manor. Further, he was not going to tell the whole of what Antonia shared with him—that he blocked or lessened the noise—or his mother would see them matched as soon as the spell was broken.

  “If we break this spell, will it also break what binds us?”

  His mother nodded. “Likely, though a thin thread will always be there.” She shrugged. “Whether it is a thread of friendship, understanding, love or simply kinship, we will not know until it is over.”

  “If the spell is not broken?” he asked.

  “It will likely remain.”

  “But I will be a wolf.”

  “Tied to an empathic witch who cannot be in crowds.”

  “This wolf state…” He’d asked the question before, but he needed the full truth from his mother. She would not lie to him. “Will it be permanent; in that I will completely change and never be a man again?” Isn’t that what happened to Lycaon? “Or, only at the full moon as we’ve heard in other tales.”

  His mother looked him in the eye. “I wish I knew. I truly do. It helps the others to think that it is only for the full moon, but…”

  “It could be seven years.”

  She nodded. “So long as you do not partake of human flesh.”

  “Then keep me in a bloody cage. Put bars on one of the alcoves in the cellar and toss in food, hire servants to clean my cage.”

  “Philip,” his mother began.

  He stood. “If it comes to that, you will lock me away. Promise me!”

  Sadness filled her eyes.

  “And nobody is to visit. I will not have anyone see me like that. And make certain that Simon is given the title of Chedworth.”

  “It will only be for seven years,” she insisted.

  “Do you know that for certain?”

  When she said nothing, Philip had his answer.

  “If I become a wolf, and it is permanent, I will cease to exist. Lock me away.”

  His mother reached out to him.

  “I am serious. My family should not suffer because I become a wolf. You must promise me!”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I promise.”

  Antonia read quicker than she had before. It did not take long after reviewing the brief description to know if the item would be of assistance before she moved on to the next journal.

  “I think this might help with veiling,” Samantha said. “Within the velvet pouch is to be a mirror of sorts.”

  “Remember where it is and we will come back and look again.”

  “But that is why we were here to begin with,” her friend reminded Antonia.

  “Reversing the spell Lord Chedworth is under is our priority. I don’t care if I must experience the emotions of England as a whole for the rest of my life. If we cannot help him, then I don’t deserve to experience peace.” She turned and picked up the next journal.

  “I will make a note and we can return to it,” Samantha said.

  Antonia could feel her friend’s sadness and she’d hurt her feelings when Samantha was only trying to help her. “I am sorry. My words were harsh,” she said. “I am so afraid that I won’t be able to help Lord Chedworth. As it is my fault, I must fix this. What happens to me no longer matters.”

  “It does, Antonia,” Maia said.

  “Only after we have helped him.” She’d not argue it further. Even they must realize that they would soon be out of time. If they found nothing by the full moon…Antonia couldn’t even consider that option, though he was. Chedworth may not be in the vault, but he was in the house, maybe only a floor above, but she could still feel his fear, panic, and determination as strongly as if he were standing next to her.