by Dare, Lydia
“You saw the past in your dream?”
She nodded against his chest. “The man, the old man,” she clarified, “he had powder in his hair.”
An uneasiness started in the pit of Dash’s stomach, but he let her continue.
“He was in pain and…” She sat up and looked directly in his eyes. “He was callin’ for ye.”
Dash closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear any more.
“But why was he callin’ for ye? Do ye ken who he was?”
Dash had a fairly good idea. “You’ve been very vague,” he evaded. “How would I know who that was?”
Cait frowned at him. “Ye do ken. I can hear it in yer voice. Who is it, Dash?”
He winced when he asked, “Does he have a crooked nose? Strong chin?”
She sighed with relief. “Yes. Who was he? What did he want with ye? So strange ta see the past.”
Dash shook his head. “I don’t think it was the past, Caitie. It sounds like my father—Eynsford, I mean.”
A look of confusion settled on her face. “But he looked like—”
Dash well knew what the man looked like. “A page from the last generation,” he finished for her. “He still wears a wig and powders his hair. He thinks current fashion is undignified and rather common.”
Caitrin threaded her fingers through his hair. “He was calling out for ye, Dash.”
“Won’t he be surprised that I’m not in England?” he replied dryly.
“Ye shouldna say that,” she said softly. “I doona ken what there is between the two of ye, but there’s a reason I had my dream.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m no’ sure, but ye have ta go ta him.”
Dash turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. “I said my vows this very day, Caitie. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“I’m no’ tryin’ ta get rid of ye. But ye have ta go ta him. It’s important.”
“Nothing is more important than you. I’ll not leave you the day after our wedding and certainly not to rush to his miserable side.”
“He’s dyin’,” Cait said softly.
Dash couldn’t bring himself to care. During his entire life, the marquess had berated him and looked down on him, locked him up and cursed his existence. Dash didn’t care if he ever laid eyes on the old man again. “Not soon enough.”
She smacked his chest. “That’s awful.”
“Caitie,” he began, but she poked her finger into his chest.
“Listen ta me, Dashiel Thorpe. Ye have ta go see the man. I doona ken why it’s important, but I wouldna see it if it wasna.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Dash insisted. He’d spent his whole life needing someone who understood him, someone who cared for him. Cait hadn’t admitted to loving him, but her affection was the closest thing he’d ever had. And he wasn’t about to rush all the way to Kent to see the man who had made his existence miserable.
“I’m goin’ with ye,” she said determinedly.
Dash snorted. “The devil you are. I saw you at each inn along the way here, Caitie. You can’t be around all those strange people. I won’t torture you that way. I won’t ask it of you. And since I have no desire to return to Eynsford Park, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“As long as ye’re with me, I’ll be all right,” she whispered, touching her lips to his chest.
“Cait!” he groaned. “Don’t try to persuade me. I’m not going.”
“As long as ye’re touchin’ me, it blocks out all the other images,” Caitrin admitted.
Dash reared back and looked at her, silhouetted in the dim light from the grate. “Blocks out the other images?” he echoed. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean,” she sighed, “yer touch is the remedy ta the pain of all those strangers’ feelings when I travel. I am no’ plagued by the futures of those around me when ye touch me.” She threaded her fingers with his. “We have ta go see the marquess, Dash. I wouldna have dreamed about it, otherwise.”
She seemed unwavering, and Dash heaved a sigh. He couldn’t believe she was making him do this. He was indeed a besotted fool even to consider it.
“I can’t imagine what we’ll gain from this.”
Cait shook her head. “Whatever it is will be revealed.” Then she smiled brightly. “Oh, and if we time ourselves properly, we’ll meet Elspeth and Benjamin along the way. They’ve just started for home.”
Bloody wonderful. A Westfield brother and his father all in the same journey. Dash didn’t even try to stop the growl that escaped him.
***
Caitrin seemed to be enveloped in a dark cocoon of all-encompassing heat. The sensation was completely unfamiliar as she was often so cold in Scotland. She sighed, perfectly content to stay wrapped up like this forever.
“Caitie.” She heard her name from so far away. “Caitie.” Dash’s voice was suddenly much louder, beside her ear.
“Hmm?” she lazily managed.
Then her warm cocoon shook. “You make the most enchanting little sounds when you sleep, angel,” Dash chuckled.
She blinked her eyes open to find herself staring at her husband’s sculpted chest, lightly dusted with golden hair. Cait smiled as memories of the previous night flashed in her mind, and she couldn’t recall ever being so happy. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone.
“Good morning, my lord.”
Dash’s fingers traced circles on her back.
“Good morning, my lady. How did you sleep?”
Cait lifted her head to look at him. “Ye are very warm. I doona think I’ll have need of a blanket ever again.”
A grin tugged at his lips, and he rolled her beneath him. “Are you suggesting I cover you day and night?”
Cait giggled.
“That can be arranged, lass.” He nuzzled against her neck, making tingles race across her skin. “How long can we stay here in Westfield’s cottage?”
“By the time we return from Kent, Elspeth will already be back.”
Dash stilled, and then he lifted his head and pierced her with his amber gaze. “You’re not really serious about that, are you?”
Cait frowned at him. Did he think her power was something to make light of? “Of course I’m serious about it, Dashiel. We have ta leave today.”
His brow furrowed. “Today? Caitie, I want to locate a broker today to help find us a place of our own. And we just finished a long journey. I’d like a sennight or so to recover from that, and—”
“Today,” she insisted, pushing at his chest. “I had my dream last night. We need ta start for Kent today.”
He groaned and rolled off her. “I don’t want to do this, Cait. I don’t want travel all the way to Eynsford Park and visit with my father. I want to build our life here and look to our future.”
She could hear the pain in his voice, and her heart ached for him. The marquess must be an awful man, but her dream meant something and they couldn’t ignore it. Her mother might have been remiss by not mentioning certain things like not being able to see her husband’s future, but she had been very clear about following premonitions.
To ignore one would have dire circumstances. Cait wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but there was nothing in her life she was willing to jeopardize to find out.
“We have ta go, Dash,” she said softly. “I wish we could stay, too, but my dream…”
He pushed up on his elbow as though to see her better. He nodded slightly in assent. “If you feel it’s necessary, we’ll leave today.”
Cait sat up and threw her arms around him, relieved that he understood the importance of her power. She couldn’t help but smile. Dash wouldn’t be the same dictatorial prig Benjamin Westfield was over Elspeth. He respected her gift. She wanted to weep with joy.
Twenty-Nine
As Dash descended the steps of Macleod House and approached his coach on the drive, he could hardly believe he’d agreed to this journey. The conveyance was already loaded with his wife’s tru
nks, and Renshaw looked as though he was ready to quit his post. The poor man had driven through brutal winds and storms just to get here, and now Dash was making him turn around and do it again.
At least only Dash and his bride would be going south. No supercilious Scotsmen trying to steal Cait from under his nose. No hulking coachmen with threatening glares. No irritating maids to deal with this time around. This time, Dash could touch Caitrin anytime he wanted without fear of discovery.
At the front of his carriage, Sorcha Ferguson and Rhiannon Sinclair huddled around Caitrin, saying their good-byes. As his wife assured her friends that they wouldn’t be gone long, a hand clapped Dash on the back. He spun around to find Angus Macleod smiling at him.
“Ye’ll take care of my little girl, right, Brimsworth?”
“With my life,” he assured his father-in-law.
The old Scot winked at him. “Well, let’s hope it doesna come ta that. She says ye want ta find a home of yer own here when ye return?”
Dash nodded. “I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity, sir.”
Angus Macleod tossed back his head and laughed. “Ye are a bad liar, lad. Ye want my daughter all ta yerself.”
Was he that easy to read?
“I was the same way with Fiona all those years ago,” Macleod continued. “When ye return, I’ll have ye a broker and ye can search Edinburgh for a proper home ta yer heart’s content. Just watch after her, will ye?”
“Yes, sir.” Dash shook his father-in-law’s hand. Then he looked over his shoulder to find Niall Forster regarding him with a look of mild amusement. What the shipbuilder had to look amused about was a complete mystery.
Dash nodded his head in the man’s direction. “Sir, thank you for all of your advice.”
Forster stepped forward and shook his head. “Ye mean all that advice ye paid no heed ta, Dashiel?”
Somehow, Dash was able to keep a growl from escaping his throat. The old man simply didn’t understand. Forster had been raised knowing what he was, raised knowing how to control himself; Dash had not.
If he allowed the beast inside him free reign, Caitrin could be in grave danger. No matter the menace that called for freedom from within, Dash was enough of a gentleman on the outside to keep the beast at bay. “On the contrary, the run was quite refreshing.”
The shipbuilder lowered his voice, so only Dash could hear. “If ye doona heed everythin’ I’ve said, Dashiel, there’s no tellin’ the harm ye can cause. Accept who ye are, embrace all of yerself, or yer doomed.”
What a cheery thought. Dash scowled at the man. “I believe I have everything under control, sir.”
“Aye,” Forster remarked. “That’s the problem, lad.”
Dash was in no mood for any more of Forster’s words, so he bowed, letting the man know the conversation had come to an end. “Do have a safe journey back to Glasgow.”
Then he caught Caitrin’s attention at the front of the coach, where she was still chatting with her friends. “Lady Brimsworth, are you quite ready?”
Cait smiled at him and stepped around the side of the carriage. Dash opened the door for his wife and helped her inside. Before he could climb in himself, he felt someone tug at his jacket.
Dash turned back around to find Sorcha standing behind him, tears trailing their way down her cheeks. “I’ll take care of her, lass. There’s no need for worrying. We’ll be back before you know it.”
He ignored the groan of his coachman at those words. He was going to have to increase the man’s pay considerably if he wanted to maintain his services.
Sorcha stepped closer to him and handed him a sprig of a purple flowers. “Wisteria,” she said quietly. “It’s for safe travels.”
Dash accepted the flowers and raised Sorcha’s gloved hand to his lips. “Thank you, Miss Ferguson. That was quite thoughtful.”
Then he climbed into the coach and rapped on the ceiling for Renshaw to depart.
The coach lurched forward and Caitrin settled beside him, resting her head against his arm. Her hand landed softly on his chest as she sighed. He’d once scoffed at love. But, no longer. There was no doubt it existed, because it nearly overwhelmed him with every breath he took.
“How long has it been since ye’ve seen yer father, Dash?” she asked quietly as her fingertips began to move slowly across his chest.
“Not long enough.”
“I hope he’s still alive when we get there. I’d like ta meet the man who’s made yer life so miserable.”
“Planning to boil him in oil, angel?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Or poison him with one of yer potions?”
Cait sighed sadly.
He nudged her with his elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“I canna help but think about how lonely he must be. He never remarried after yer mother died?”
“No woman of sane mind would have him.” He picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his trouser leg.
“Yer mother married him.”
“She also let herself be seduced by a Lycan. Her mental standing is still in question for me.”
She punched his shoulder and sat up, her mouth open wide with outrage. “How can ye say such a thing?” she gasped.
“Oh, come now, Caitie,” he said, trying to soothe her as she removed herself from him completely. “I didn’t mean it,” he finally groaned, though he had no idea why she was suddenly so put out with him.
Cait ignored him and just stared out the opposite window.
“What did I do?” he finally asked when the silence became deafening.
“Nothin’.” She turned up her nose.
“Angel,” he began.
“Don’t angel me, Dashiel Thorpe. Ye canna insult me and then expect me ta fall right inta yer arms just because ye’re charmin’.”
“When did I insult you?” Damn women. He’d never understand them.
“Ye said yer mother’s mental status was in question because she allowed herself ta be seduced by a beast.” She raised one eyebrow at him and then raked her gaze down and up his body.
“Oh.” He sighed loudly. “I didn’t mean you, Caitie. You had no chance against my charm.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, though she fought it. Then she pulled at the neck of her gown, exposing her shoulder. “Fight yer bite, ye mean? Once ye had sunk yer teeth inta me, I was done for? It’s no’ as though I had much of a choice, is it?”
“Oh, you had a choice. You could have chosen MacQuarrie. You could have moved on.” He picked her up and set her in his lap, despite her struggles. He lowered his voice. “But you didn’t. Because you love me. Even if I say the wrong things at times and am completely inappropriate.”
She stopped moving in his lap, thank God. If her bottom had wiggled against him for one more moment, the beast would have been under her skirts, even if she was angry at him.
“Ye’re a boor,” she said as she quieted and laid her head against his chest.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She let him brush the hair back from her brow. “Forgive me.”
***
Forgive him? And let the big lout get off that easily? Not very likely.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” she said, unable to stop the giggle that erupted.
“Do you have any predictions about what will occur when we reach Kent?” His brow was marred by concentration.
“Ye ken I canna tell the future where ye’re concerned.” If only she could. She could make this so much easier for both of them. “Are ye worried?”
“We didn’t part on good terms, angel. My father probably will detest my very presence, just like he’s done every day since I was born.”
“That wasna the sense I got in my dream, Dash. He needed ye. I just doona ken why.”
He tucked her closer to him, and she was content just to let him hold her for a while with her head tucked beneath his chin.
“He knows I’m not his son,” Dash finally said qu
ietly. “He told me so himself. I didn’t believe him at the time. I thought it was his disappointment speaking.”
“Do ye think he kens who yer real father is?”
She felt his head move from side to side. “No. If he does, he didn’t tell me.”
“Do ye want ta ken?”
He shrugged.
“Of course ye do,” she mumbled.
“It would be nice to know,” he finally said, though he’d never given it much thought. What good would it do now? “But it isn’t important. I wouldn’t be making this trip, if not for you.” He nudged her playfully. “The things I do for love.”
“Ye just hope ta get beneath my skirts again,” she said, feeling the color in her face rise as he reacted to her comment. She took his chin in her hand and kissed him quickly.
“Don’t try to distract me with your kisses, angel,” he growled. “I like that idea, the one you just had. Let’s go back to that.”
“Ye are incorrigible.” But, truth be told, she liked being one with him. She liked the closeness. Having him inside her was more than she’d ever dreamed it would be. “Ye canna do that in a carriage.”
He looked down at her with his eyebrows raised. “And just why not?” His voice dropped to a low hum. “I can take you anywhere I want.”
Cait could already feel the mad dash of her pulse and knew he could hear it. And the one at the juncture of her thighs began to pound as well. The man just had to mention taking her, and she warmed like a stoked fire on a cold winter day.
“I love the way you react to me,” he murmured as he picked her up and put one leg on each side of his, so that she straddled his lap. His hands cupped her bottom, drawing her closer so she could feel the bulge of him against her thigh.
“We canna do it like this,” she whispered, slightly scandalized but highly aroused at the same time.
Dash distracted her by talking as he loosened the bodice of her gown. “We can do it anywhere, angel. We can do it standing up.” They could? “We can do it lying down.” She nodded, more and more distracted by his movements as he deftly pulled her bodice down and exposed her breasts to the cool air. The peaks of her breasts immediately hardened. “And we can do it in a carriage.”
