WitchofArundaleHall

Jennifer
Leeland

This
book is a sequel to Wolf of Arundale Hall.

A wicked curse on the men of Arundale transforms them into bloodthirsty
beasts when their passions are high. Lady Sarah Ayers can wait no longer to do
what only she can—end the curse. Her ancestor cast the spell and she must undo
it. But to accomplish her goal she cannot let her body overrule her sense of
duty, no matter how hard she finds it to resist the deviant sexual impulses
that hold her in thrall to Perry Arundale.

Perry will do whatever it takes, with his words or his wilder side, to
make Sarah his. But he doesn’t know that the bond between them could lead Sarah
to lose not only her heart but her life.

Inside
Scoop:
This story contains scenes of voyeurism, BDSM and
mixed-gender ménage.

A Romantica®
paranormal
erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

“How are you doing, Miss Sarah?”

Lady Sarah Ayers glanced up from the floor she was scrubbing
then scurried to her feet. “Lord Alfred, I didn’t hear you come in.” Sarah
smoothed down her apron. She’d grown accustomed to a maid’s attire and she did
not miss the rather uncomfortable stylish dresses she’d worn as a young girl.
“I am well, sir.”

“You have been a good addition to Wolford House,” Lord
Alfred said. He perused the room she had cleaned and seemed satisfied.

She couldn’t follow his gaze to the wooden cross with iron
manacles, a black saddle and rings on the legs, which she’d wiped clean. The
girls in the house called these accoutrements “equipment”. She found them a
wretched temptation.

As if he could read her mind, Lord Alfred met her gaze and
asked, “You don’t find things too difficult then?”

It was a simple question. But it wasn’t.

Lord Alfred Bantry, a mature man with an air of superiority
most titled males carried, had asked her no questions when she’d arrived on his
doorstep with only a small bag and a letter from Lord Marcus Everrett. She had
escaped Arundale Hall, her back a mass of wounds, her heart given to a cursed
man and her reputation in ruins. Lord Marcus had sent her to Wolford House to
work as a maid.

In London she hoped to escape from the hopeless love for
Perry Arundale that had caused so much heartache for everyone involved. But
nothing could separate her from the mark Perry had given her, the impression of
his bite, which had not faded despite the months since she’d received it.

A mark that had changed her in ways no woman could endure. It
made her needy, desperate for things a lady should not want. Lord Alfred, a man
who peddled desire to the rich and titled, seemed well aware of her…dilemma.

“I am able to endure,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “Thank
you.”

“I made you a promise that first night. Do you remember it?”
he asked, his tone sharp.

She raised her head and met his stare. “You said that no one
would hurt me.”

He put his hands behind his back. “I asked you very little
that night. Marcus had sent a cryptic note that indicated I shouldn’t ask too
many questions.” The man paced the room, his waistcoat straining against his
slight paunch.

Finally he stopped and frowned at her. “I know what Marcus
is. You are not like him. But somehow you are connected to what he is. Do you
deny this?”

Her breath caught. “No.” No, she couldn’t deny it. All the
men with Arundale blood were cursed. They changed into wolves, beasts of
violence. “I do not deny it.”

Lord Alfred stared intently at her. “Marcus loved Derek—his
preference is for men. That will not have changed because of Derek’s death. You
are not his paramour.”

She swallowed. “No sir.” No, she was not Marcus’ lover. But
after Derek’s death Marcus had been willing to help Sarah once he knew what she
was determined to do. Her intention to end the curse that created the wolves of
Arundale coincided with Marcus’ desire to be free of it.

Lord Alfred, Marcus’ mentor, studied her, clearly thinking,
considering. “Marcus trusted me with his secrets, Lady Sarah. If you do not
wish to find yourself out on the street I’m afraid you’ll have to trust me with
yours.”

Though the man’s tone was gentle there was no doubt Lord
Alfred meant what he said. Lord Marcus had been hated by his father, who knew
him to be a bastard of Arundale, and had been rescued by Lord Alfred. The older
man, a distant cousin, had introduced Marcus to the business of providing
unusual entertainment for the more deviant members of the ton.

He had been patient, allowing Sarah to work as a maid at Wolford
House and not requesting an explanation for her secretive manner or her desire
to remain anonymous. Her hope that she could leave Mr. Perry Arundale behind
and forget the connection between them had seemed possible for a short time.

But now Lord Alfred wanted her to admit what she had wanted
to forget. All her efforts to escape her fate had been for nothing.

She wanted to laugh. Secrets? What would Lord Alfred say if
she told him that she had visions of the future? Would he mock her when she
told him that she’d seen the death of her mother before it had happened, that
she’d seen the man whom she would love before she’d known his name, that she’d
seen what would happen if she remained at Arundale Hall? No. Some secrets were
hers to keep.

Her determination to find the truth, to discover whether
Lady Marion North lied to her during the years Sarah had been in her care…that
was all she had left. Love was not for her.

Her mouth was dry and her throat closed as tears threatened
to weaken her. She was desperate, focused on one goal only, and that was to end
the curse. If Lord Alfred threw her out she was in danger of never being able
to accomplish that goal.

It seemed like an impasse but Lord Alfred leaned toward her
and touched her shoulder. “You are not a wolf, so I can only assume that you
are like Derek. But if not intended for Marcus, then…” He frowned for a moment.
“I’m going to guess that you are running from a wolf to whom you are mated. Am
I right?”

“No, not mated,” she said, and her lips trembled. Oh, she
had lost her innocence to Perry, as well as her heart. The bite on the inside
of her right thigh was the first stage of his ultimately claiming her. But he
had not taken the final step, implanting his seed in her body.

What did it matter? From the beginning she had been a
hindrance to the Arundale family. “I want to end the curse. I have to go to
France. But I have no money, no friends, my relations have shunned me and my
reputation is in tatters.”

Lord Alfred nodded. “I heard the rumors. Lord Robert Applegate
does damage even from the grave,” he said. “Did he give you the marks on your
back?”

His words transported Sarah back to that horrible day. She
had known Lord Robert wanted the Arundale men dead, and had attempted to
interfere. As a result Lord Robert had kidnapped her and used her to lure Perry
into a trap. While Perry was restrained and forced to watch, Lord Robert had whipped
her with a cat-o’-nine tails, permanently scarring her back.

“I was foolish. The scars on my back are the results of my folly.”
The scars were a reminder to Sarah. In an effort to save the man she loved, she’d
allowed him to fall into Lord Robert’s power. Her presence in his life had only
caused him pain.

“But the man who put them there is not the wolf who seeks to
Claim you?” Lord Alfred asked, and Sarah smiled. He was a protector, a man who
would not stand by and allow the helpless to be hurt.

“No, it was not him.” For a moment her longing for Perry was
almost too much to bear. She had seen him in a vision, fallen in love with him
and prayed she would find him. But when she had, she’d been sent by Lady North
to destroy the Arundale men. Once she saw that Perry Arundale was the man from
her visions, she could not obey Lady North but neither could she admit her true
identity. All her relations with the Arundales were based on lies and
deception.

“He will come for you though.” Lord Alfred tapped his
fingers on the saddle, his fingers’ drumming muffled by the leather.

She tipped her chin. “I work hard. You have not regretted
employing me, have you?”

Lord Alfred met her gaze. “I will not keep him out.”

She blinked. “Sir?”

The man stepped back, his arms crossed. “When Marcus fell in
love with Derek, it was clear to me that he would stop at nothing to have the
man. Derek was reluctant, his position as a houseboy making him think he wasn’t
fit to black Marcus’ boots. Derek tried to hide, to run from Marcus. Instead
Marcus tracked him down, tied him up for three days and fucked him into
compliance.”

Sarah gasped. She wanted to be shocked but the overwhelming
response from her traitorous body was anticipation and arousal. Damn the curse.

Lord Alfred continued. “The absolute torment I saw in
Marcus’ face was painful. He hurt without Derek, in every way possible there
was to hurt.” He stared at her seriously. “I peddle pain in all kinds of ways,
Lady Sarah, but the agony I saw in Marcus was not the kind I want here. If your
mate comes here you must face him.”

“Even if he would hurt me?” she pleaded, knowing it was a
lie.

“Would he?” Lord Alfred asked sharply.

Of course Perry could hurt her. He could destroy her soul
and leave her heartbroken. But she was well aware that Lord Alfred meant
physically. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not in the way
you mean.”

Lord Alfred raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “You
want to end the curse. To me that means you love someone who is hurt by it.” His
tone softened. “You look just like Derek did when he ran from Marcus. Afraid
and alone, desperately in love, yet running like hell.” He took her hand and
held it gently. “You love this man but you believe he doesn’t love you.”

She snatched her hand away but the scathing words she wanted
to say died on her lips. Instead she told him the truth. “How could he?” She
sat up straight. “I betrayed him. I lied to him about who I was and why I was a
maid. I took advantage of his vulnerability. He is cursed and if he Claims me
as his mate we are doomed to a life of lies and bitterness. No, he doesn’t love
me. He is dictated to by his blood and his duty. I am only a bystander.”

“You do not strike me as a bystander in this, Lady Sarah,”
Lord Alfred said softly. “I made you a promise and I will keep it.”

Lord Alfred nodded and stepped out of the room and allowed
Sarah to get on with her work. The man’s words had brought back the past—the
loving touch of Perry’s hands, the agony in his voice when he’d begged her to
let him see her after Lord Robert had beaten her, the pain of the vision she’d
had of death and blood if she remained at Arundale Hall.

Six months had passed and Sarah had started to believe that
Perry had given up, that he’d realized how hopeless it was between them. It
should have been a relief. Instead it hurt.

As she retrieved her bucket and moved to the next room she
wondered if Lady Marion North, grandmother to Perry and Joshua Arundale and the
woman who had orchestrated an attempt on their lives, had told her nothing but
lies.

No—some of what the woman had told her had been truth,
backed up by evidence. Those precious papers, copied from scrolls in France,
depicting the details of the DeFalk curse. The curse that made the DeFalk
descendants, including the Arundale men, turn into wolves. The same papers that
said any child she bore would not live beyond its fifth year.

None of that mattered. She would end the curse, and perhaps
she could find happiness. But as the descendent of a witch Sarah wondered if
that was possible.

“Mr. Perry Arundale, as I live and breathe.”

Perry turned to face the man who’d hailed him. The inn was
too crowded and too dim. Perry had wanted to bolt as soon as he’d arrived but
he had no idea how long it would take to see Sarah. Most of his friends in town
wanted nothing to do with him.

As Benjamin Isler smiled and stretched out a hand Perry
wondered what he wanted. “Ben, how are you?” he said politely.

Ben shook Perry’s hand. “You’re acting as if we’re
strangers. It’s been too long.”

In a way, Perry thought, they were strangers. Ben had been a
drinking companion and sometimes they had shared sexual congresses at brothels.
Perry’s excesses had been brought on by his need to ignore the beast inside
him, by the hatred he had for his weaknesses and the anger he carried against
the world in general.

Ben had been a willing participant in Perry’s degradation. It
had been Ben who had introduced Perry to Lord Marcus Everrett and his house of
pleasure. It had been Ben who had gone to Perry’s sister-in-law, Elizabeth, and
revealed his location. What did the man want from him now?

“It hasn’t been long enough,” he said stiffly, and Ben’s
smile dimmed a bit.

“Come now,” he said brightly. “Don’t be like that.” Ben led
Perry to a quiet corner in the pub section of the inn. “I have news for you. Remember
that pretty piece you had working as a maid at Arundale Hall?”

Perry froze. How the hell did Ben know about Sarah? His gaze
narrowed on his friend. The wolf within growled, straining Perry’s control. “Sarah.
Her name is Sarah, not a ‘pretty piece’. You’d best remember it.”

“You always were rather a fool over her,” Ben said with a
laugh. “I’ve seen her. Can you believe it? She’s a maid at Wolford House.”

Shit. How did Ben know? Marcus had revealed that he’d sent
Sarah there and Jaimison had been satisfied that she was safe. But if Ben knew,
who else might find out?

Perry had never been to the well-known house. In London he
had sought the seedier locations, unable to contain his darker side, which
seemed at home in a brothel. Wolford House was a place for a higher class of
clientele. He had heard that Wolford House pandered to the fantasies of many of
the ton who sought more adventurous sexual experiences.

And Sarah worked there.

This was all his fault. Had he remained sober in spite of
her rejection, he wouldn’t have contracted pneumonia. The sickness had almost
killed him. He had already been on the hunt for her when he’d collapsed but for
six months the illness had kept him from following her.

“When did you see her?” he questioned Ben sharply.

“Last week.” Ben studied Perry. “You have lost weight.”

“I’ve been ill. Did you speak to her?” He wanted to shake
the man.

Ben shrugged. “No. I was…occupied at the time,” he said with
a wicked smirk. “Are you in town for long? I’ve missed our jaunts.”

Perry barely responded, his mind whirling with the new
information. “I don’t know. It was good to see you, Ben, but I must go.”

“As you wish. You can find me at Lord Kellen’s house.” Ben
grinned. “The man was foolish enough to invite me for the season.”

“Yes, thank you,” Perry said, distracted. He found the
innkeeper and called for his horse. There was one person who might get him an
audience with Lord Alfred Bantry, the owner of Wolford House. He hadn’t spoken
to her in months but he hoped she would help.

* * * * *

Nothing more had been said to Sarah regarding Perry Arundale
and she hoped she would be safe from more questions. A week had passed and Lord
Alfred had said no more. In every other way her employment was a stroke of good
luck. Lord Alfred was a meticulous taskmaster, demanding high standards and
working his people long hours. But he was a generous and caring employer, not
only to the household staff who cleaned and cooked but also to the staff who
worked in his business venture. All who worked for him were given every medical
attention available to keep them healthy and as much security as Lord Alfred
could provide.

Sarah had gotten used to the unconventional hours and the
strange tasks required of her. She’d cleaned up substances whose origin and purpose
she didn’t want to know. Yet the sexual congresses she’d witnessed also stirred
something beneath her skin. She had a better understanding of what Elizabeth
Arundale had suffered all those years without her husband. For like herself,
Elizabeth had been unclaimed when she and Joshua had been separated by an
ocean. How difficult it must have been to retrieve Perry from places like this
with her own needs unfulfilled. At least Sarah had chosen this. Elizabeth had
had no choices at all.

Surprisingly, none of the patrons of Wolford Hall accosted
her, though she’d been told by Leonardo—called Leo by the staff—that more than
one had asked for her. Lord Alfred had said she was off-limits and all the
business staff protected her.

“Room five needs a cleanup,” said Bessie, the other maid, as
she passed her in the hall. “The rest can wait until morning.”

Sarah studied the maid. Bessie was both a servant and a
house worker. Her ample bosom and her bright smile made her a house favorite. But
Sarah didn’t think Bessie sold her body for money. The woman was choosy and
only accepted men she liked. Her dark-brown hair was long and curly when she
let it down and her curves were the kind men chased but she was no femme
fatale.

Her kindness to Sarah had been unexpected and welcome.

“Are you sure, Bessie? I don’t mind cleaning them tonight.” Sarah
had worked hard, picking up more than was assigned to her so that Bessie could
service other patrons.

Bessie’s grin was warm. “We both have a night off, my dear. There’s
only two rooms occupied, so go and have a cup of warm milk and a good sleep.”

“I’ll get room five cleaned up.” Sarah watched Bessie
saunter up the stairs to her room. She wished she was a simple maid—no family
obligation, no bloodline to hold her accountable. But she wasn’t a maid. She’d
been born Lady Sarah Ayers and she was from a carefully planned bloodline.

Now she was a maid working in a house of ill-repute. But she
liked her work and saved her money, hoping for the day she could finally go to
Bayeux and stop the curse.

How she would get there still presented difficulties. Traveling
to France was going to take more than money. She was a woman and traveling
alone was still dangerous. France, now under its third form of government in a
decade, wasn’t completely safe.

As she moved through her nightly chores she continued to
plan. The scrolls in Bayeux would reveal how much of what she’d learned from
Lady Marion North was a lie and how much was true.

The curse had been crafted by one of Sarah’s ancestors, a
witch. The information Sarah had been given was vague at best. Lady North had
stated that Sarah’s bloodline had been given a gift—the ability to break the
curse. But was it a lie?

Methodically she made her way down to the first floor to
clean up room five and her attention was captured by a tableau that made her
pulse pound. It wasn’t the first time she’d been riveted by the sexual games
here. A pane of glass between the room she occupied and the sexual collision in
the bedroom next door allowed her to watch without being seen. The temptation
was irresistible.

Two men and a woman were engaged in something raw and
raucous. The woman was naked and struggling, feigning resistance Sarah was sure
she didn’t feel. The men tied the woman to a raised saddle and one man lowered
his trousers as the other stood behind her. The first man, his buttocks flexing
and tightening, put his cock in the woman’s mouth. The other man used his bare
hand to spank her, driving her onto the saddle, his hard length clearly visible
through his pants. Every third strike he drove two fingers inside the woman’s
pussy and she squirmed with pleasure.

Sarah watched until the man thrust his cock inside the woman
and the two men filled her in a synchronized rhythm that made her sweat. Sarah’s
hand crept between her legs and rubbed her clitoris through her pantaloons. It
was the only relief she had in this place, where everything made her insane
with lust. The woman’s screams only spurred Sarah higher as she stroked her
clitoris harder.

Her release was a disappointment, a shadow of the pleasure
she’d had at Perry’s hand. She snatched her hand away from her crotch and left
the room as if the devil were chasing her. What if the threesome had seen her? It
seemed as if there were another person beneath her skin, a more wanton woman
with needs and desires that were darker and more appalling.

Perhaps if she hadn’t had her head down she might have seen
the man before she blundered into him. A solid wall of flesh stopped her
suddenly and two strong hands gripped her shoulders.

“Pardon, miss,” the man said with a distinct French accent. She
lifted her gaze to a pair of smoky-blue eyes with a definite gleam.

“Excuse me, monsieur. I must continue my work.” She tried to
step back but he held her fast. He was tall—possibly just six feet—and he had a
thin, rather sharp face with angles and lines but no warmth. His gaze was
focused but cold, calculating.

“And what work would a pretty little thing like you do? Do
you do it on your knees?” His voice was husky, his intent unmistakable.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been approached but something
about the man’s touch caused her pulse to pound with fear. He glanced at the
door where she’d been and raised an eyebrow. “Were you watching my friends? Good.
It will prepare you for me,” he stated as he pulled her closer.

She tried to get away. “I am the maid, monsieur. Not…a house
worker. Let me go.”

The man leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. “I know what
you are,
ma petite
. I can smell it.”

His whisper made her muscles tense and her breath catch. What
did he know? She whipped away from him and escaped toward the stairs to the
lower floors. She could sense his stare as she fled.

“Sarah,” Leo called, and she stopped, her breath labored and
her heart racing.

“Yes?” she managed to call back.

“Lord Alfred wishes to see you. He’s in the sitting room on
the first floor. He told me to tell you.” Leo gave her a concerned glance. “Are
you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just—” She closed her eyes. “Do you know who
that man is?”

Leo stared at her. “What man?”

Sarah whirled around and found the hall below empty. He’d
disappeared. With a sigh she shook her head at her own fancies. He was just a
guest of the house with a flair for the dramatic. “Sometimes things here are
too much.”

Leo nodded. “I know.” He turned her with his hands on her
shoulders. “Off you go.”

She descended the stairs to the first floor and entered the
drawing room.

Perry occupied the settee.

Lord Alfred rose. “Lady Sarah—”

She backed toward the door. “No.” Why? Why didn’t he leave
her to her fate? Why did he have to come here looking so handsome and perfect?

“Sarah, come in here, please,” Lord Alfred ordered, his tone
stern.

She swallowed and inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. Her
mind whirled. This confrontation was inevitable but she had to dismiss Perry,
encourage him to leave her alone.

As she sat on the settee across from him she noted the
changes in the man she loved. He was pale, as if he’d been unwell. The thought
made her heart stutter and her mouth dry. His dark hair was much shorter and
his hands were steadier than when she’d escaped from him months earlier. Something
in his gaze captivated her even more than it had before. He seemed determined,
calm.

In contrast to her inner turmoil he seemed resigned to the
rejection she’d voiced. There was no surprise in his demeanor at her instant
denial and her desperate desire to get away from him.

“Mr. Arundale and I have spoken,” Lord Alfred stated. “He
has a proposal for you, if you are willing.”

She met Lord Alfred’s calm stare. Somehow Perry must have
convinced the man he was no danger to her. What a farce. “You know I am not,”
she said, and was glad to hear that her voice was steady.

Perry winced and looked away from her to the clock on the
wall.

The older man’s gaze was filled with sympathy. “You are
aware that Lord Robert Applegate spread vicious rumors about you. Under most
circumstances the rumors could be refuted.” Lord Alfred’s tone was careful, as
if he were reluctant to speak. “But the rumors have been confirmed by Lady
Marion North.”

It was like a stab to her heart, the final strike. The woman
had been like a mother to her when Sarah’s own had died. But Lady North had
manipulated Sarah and sent Lord Robert on a rampage of revenge and murder that had
caught everyone in its wake.

Now she delivered the final blow to Sarah’s pride. The lies
Lord Robert had told his friends had been confirmed by one who claimed to know
her. There might be doubts about Lord Robert’s integrity and motives, but Lady
North seemed to have no reason to speak against Sarah.

Numb, Sarah managed to speak. “What does this have to do
with Mr. Arundale?” she said, and wouldn’t look at Perry.

“Mr. Arundale has proposed that he marry you and give you
the protection that the union will provide.” Lord Alfred glanced at Perry then
frowned at her. “He has also agreed to accompany you to France.”

She opened her mouth to say no, to refuse, but Lord Alfred
held up a hand to stop her and raised an eyebrow at Perry.

Perry cleared his throat and wouldn’t meet her gaze but
looked somewhere over her shoulder. “I still have the portion of the estate
left to me by my father, which my brother has purchased from me. Elizabeth
never touched my money nor allowed me to use it. This will allow you to leave
for France immediately.”