Tall, Dark and Wolfish

by Lydia Dare

  He raised his brow in silent question.

  “It’s all in there.” She pointed to the journal. “We

  were right. My father came here for the same reason as ye did. He couldn’t transform either. All of mother’s notes are right here. The potions, oils, spells she used.”

  She saw pure joy in his eyes. “So you know how to heal me?”

  “I believe so. Mother healed him, anyway.”

  Ben easily plucked her from her seat and spun her around in his arms. “Ellie, you don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

  With the room spinning around she had a fairly good idea. A laugh escaped her. “Havers, put me down, ye silly man.”

  But he didn’t. Though he stopped spinning, he held her tightly in his arms, her legs dangling off the ground. Then he pressed his lips to hers. Elspeth wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, certain the room still spun.

  Ben groaned as his tongue explored Elspeth’s sweet mouth. She tasted like tea and blueberries. She tasted like Elspeth, which he was discovering was his favorite flavor in the world. He sat her on the long table before them and pressed himself between her legs. What he wouldn’t give to sink into her.

  The scent of her arousal touched his nose, driving him to distraction. In her flimsy nightrail, he could feel her nipples harden against his chest. He gently pushed her back on the table, never removing his lips from hers.

  He started to put himself above her, but something fell from the table and crashed to the floor.

  Elspeth sat up with a start. She blinked her striking emerald eyes at him and smiled. “I’m certain we’d be more comfortable upstairs.”

  He wholeheartedly agreed. Her mattress had to be more comfortable than a hard table in a dank room. “Lead the way, love,” he growled against her neck. Unable to resist himself, he nipped her lightly and she raked her hands through his hair.

  Ben kissed her softly one last time before helping her off the table. She scrambled up the ladder, her perfect little bottom swaying before his eyes. Her nightrail didn’t leave much to the imagination, and Ben had to work to keep his hands to himself, at least for the moment.

  He thought about riding in his coach with her for a fortnight. He could squeeze that bottom all he wanted, as well as everything else. It would be the most pleasant journey he’d ever take… one that would surely ruin her reputation, should anyone find out about it.

  There was only one solution. They’d leave for London right after he married her. He wouldn’t make the same mistake her father made. He wouldn’t ever let her go, and he would protect her until the end of time, and that meant more than physically. He wouldn’t let anyone ever speak ill of her.

  Ben climbed the ladder after her. “Ellie, there’s something I have to ask—”

  Just as his head popped up in the kitchen floor, a blazing ball of light came hurling toward his head. He lost his balance and fell back into the secret room.

  “Good God!” he yelped. What was that? And what

  was that smell? He touched a hand to his head and realized the ends of his hair had been singed.

  He looked above him and found one of her sister witches glaring down at him. The girl’s raven hair hung loosely about her shoulders, and her grey eyes flashed with indignation. “Just what do ye think ye’re doin’ here, Westfield?”

  She knew him, but he had no idea which one she was.

  “Blaire Lindsay!” Elspeth’s panicked voice filtered down to him. “I canna believe ye did that.”

  A moment later Elspeth peered down at him, concern etched across her lovely brow. “Ben, are ye all right?”

  “She burned my hair,” he said, at a loss to find other words.

  “My aim was off,” the vicious witch complained. “I was hopin’ for yer handsome face.”

  “Blaire!” Elspeth admonished. “How dare ye come inta my house and treat my guest in such a fashion?”

  Ben leapt to his feet. He was a sitting duck with her standing over him like that. He needed to get to higher ground. He climbed the ladder.

  “I dare,” Blaire told her in no uncertain terms. “Look at yerself, El. Ye’ve got next ta nothing on and—”

  “My wardrobe is no’ yer concern.”

  Finally aboveground, Ben approached the fighting witches. He stared at the dark-haired Blaire. “What did you throw at me?”

  She shrugged, looking completely unrepentant. “A fireball. And I have more, so I’d watch myself if I were ye.”

  A fireball? That was much worse than the vines that came to life. “Thanks for the warning,” he muttered.

  “I think ye should leave, Blaire,” Elspeth said quietly, though there was a dangerous edge to her voice.

  Blaire shook her head. “I dinna come for a social call, El. Caitrin’s been hurt. She needs ye.”

  Twenty-four

  “Hurt?” Elspeth echoed. Her heart stopped beating. “What happened ta Cait?”

  Blaire’s eyes flashed to Ben before she replied, “I’d rather explain on the way.”

  Elspeth grabbed her friend’s hand and towed her toward her bedroom. “Explain while I dress. I may need somethin’ from my stores.”

  She shut the door behind them and went straight to her armoire, pulling out the first dress her fingers found. “Speak, Blaire.”

  “It was Westfield,” she whispered.

  Elspeth spun on her feet, panic washing over her. “I beg yer pardon.”

  “She’d gone out for a walk with her maid, and they were both attacked.”

  Elspeth shook her head. “Ben would never do that.”

  “Ye doona even ken the man. How do ye ken what he would or wouldna do?”

  She didn’t know him all that well, but still… “I ken he wouldna hurt anyone.” Except for the “whore” when he had lost control. Had he lost control again? She shook the thought from her head. Ben’s altercation had been during an act of intimacy. He wouldn’t attack two women on a walk. There had to be a misunderstanding.

  “Ye would believe him over Cait?”

  She had a point. She’d known Caitrin all her life and Ben only a week. “What did he do?” Her heart ached as she asked the question.

  Blaire took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her dark mane. “He attacked them both, though Cait got the worst of it.”

  “Attacked them?” Elspeth echoed in horror.

  “Aye, the maid said the wolf came out of nowhere and attacked before disappearin’ inta the woods. Will ye dress, already?”

  Elspeth realized she was clutching her blue muslin in her fists, and she shook her head. “Sorry.” She tore off her wrap and nightrail and started to slip into her dress. “It wasna Ben,” she said as she slid into her old, worn half boots.

  Blaire let go a beleaguered sigh. “Of course it was. Did ye not hear me say it was a wolf?”

  “It canna be. He canna change. That’s why he’s here.”

  “How do we ken that for certain? Ye’re only takin’ his word for it.”

  Elspeth quickly pinned her hair, knowing the effort was futile. “Then why else would he have come, Blaire? I doona believe it was him. There are wolves out there who doona turn inta men, ye ken.”

  Blaire’s grey eyes bore into hers. “Cait has been the most vocal about her dislike of Westfield. So he meant ta silence her. He’s come ta destroy the Còig one way or the other.”

  Finished with her hair, Elspeth picked up a small satchel on her dresser, then crossed to her door. “I doona believe it.”

  She walked out of the room and into her kitchen, where she found Ben’s hazel eyes leveled on her. With his ears, he’d heard every word, she knew it.

  “I didn’t,” he whispered.

  Elspeth nodded. She wanted to cry. “I ken.” Then she went to the cupboard behind him and began tossing corked bottles into her satchel.

  “Can I help?” Ben asked from behind her.

  “I doona think now is the time, or ye might be attacked by more than a l
ittle fireball.”

  He squeezed her shoulders and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “If you need me, I’ll be at Alec’s. I’m so sorry, Ellie.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. He was so earnest with his light brown hair with singed ends hanging in his eyes. “Be careful, Ben. If any of the others get a chance at ye, I doona ken what they’ll do.”

  Instead of returning to Alec’s as he’d said, Ben ran swiftly through the woods toward Caitrin’s home. He followed his nose and used it to find the door the two women had used when they started their walk. Then he followed their trail. They’d ventured much farther into the woods than he would expect of two women who were just taking a casual stroll.

  But there was a worn path through the area, and it lead to Elspeth’s home, so perhaps this was a path much taken. The wind shifted and Ben inhaled deeply. As usual, he could pick out the scents of animals in the area. But there was a wild scent that was definitely lupine nearby. If anyone knew the scent of a wolf, it was him. Ben crouched behind a boulder at the top of a hill and looked down into the valley. He immediately saw the pups, rustling and tumbling together in the grass. The mother wolf stood sentry nearby, and Ben could smell the father in the area as well.

  That explained it. Caitrin and her maid had stumbled upon a wolf den. And wolves protected their young.

  Ben heard a low growl behind him, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He turned slowly to face the wolf, taking care not to meet his dark stare. If confronted in such a manner, the male wolf would tear him to shreds.

  Ben backed away slowly, heading back down the trail as he’d come. He didn’t growl or bare his teeth as he would in a normal confrontation. He’d stepped into this wolf’s territory, after all. And the male was simply protecting his young. If he’d had children, Ben could imagine doing the same.

  The thought brought an immediate image of Elspeth to him, cradling a red-haired wolfling in her arms. Their wolf.

  The male wolf continued to watch as Ben turned and jogged back in the direction he’d come. It made Ben feel much better to know there was a valid cause for the attack, if you could consider any cause to be valid.

  He circled to the front of Caitrin’s house, and the butler opened the door before he could even knock. The man looked down his nose at Ben. It had always amazed him how they could do that.

  “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to check on Miss Macleod,” he told the man.

  The butler simply nodded and led him to the morning room, where Alec sat, his foot tapping anxiously against the floor as he nibbled his fingernails.

  “How is she?” Ben asked, breaking Alec from his fretful fidgeting. He glanced up quickly.

  “Elspeth is with her now.” Alec stood up to pace. “There was a lot of blood.”

  “Maybe the wounds are superficial?” No matter what, Elspeth would have to worry about infection.

  “She was in a lot of pain.” Alec continued his pacing.

  “Would you sit down, man? You’re making me crazy with all the moving about.” Ben knew his voice was a bit too forceful, but the nervous energy in the room was going to send him into a frenzy if it continued.

  “She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Alec’s gaze finally met his, and he saw the anguish behind the man’s rigid façade.

  “You truly care about the girl?”

  Alec simply nodded.

  Ben motioned to a footman nearby. The man immediately returned with two tumblers of whisky. Ben offered one to Alec. He shook his head.

  “You’ll be no use to her if you’re tied up in knots.”

  Alec acquiesced and took the glass. He downed it in one swallow. Ben pressed his own glass into the man’s shaking hands. He drank that one as well.

  Ben clapped him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Alec. You told me yourself that everyone in town goes to Elspeth when they need to be healed.”

  “Aye, it’s like she has healing warmth in her fingertips,” Alec said as he finally met Ben’s gaze. “She’ll be able to heal her. I’m sure of it.”

  A low murmur of female voices from the corridor reached Ben’s ears.

  “Ye canna use fireballs on him with MacQuarrie in the room! What’s wrong with ye? Are ye daft? Put that thing away.”

  Ben glanced around the corner and saw Blaire standing with Sorcha. The raven-haired witch balanced a ball of fire over her fingertips, as though testing the weight of it.

  “Is that for me?” he asked. Certainly she wouldn’t use it in front of Alec.

  “Of course it is. Who else would I use it on? If it wasna ye, then it was one of yer kind who hurt her.”

  “Your kind?” Alec said as he approached the doorway. Blaire rubbed her fingertips together and extinguished the fireball seconds before he looked around the corner. “An Englishman hurt her? Who? I’ll kill him.”

  Twenty-five

  Elspeth sat on the edge of the bed and tried to work quickly and quietly. She was relieved to find that although the wounds still bled profusely, most of them weren’t deep.

  “Can ye give me a moment, Mr. Macleod?” Elspeth asked, never removing her eyes from an unconscious Caitrin. “I need a bit of privacy.”

  “Whatever ye need, lass. I’ll be right outside the door.”

  It was a relief not to have to lie to him. She usually had to send loved ones on special errands to be alone with the person who needed to be healed. Since his wife and daughter were both members of the Còig, there was no need for subterfuge with Angus Macleod.

  When she heard him shut the door behind him, Elspeth touched her fingertips to Caitrin’s forearms, where most of the defensive wounds were located. She closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling the heat move from her body into Caitrin’s. The girl moved, despite the sleeping draught Elspeth had given her when she’d arrived, since healing could be painful.

  Elspeth used all the power in her body, transferring every bit of herself to Cait. “Ye will be healed,” she crooned softly. “No matter how ornery ye are, I need ye.”

  The most superficial wounds healed beneath her fingertips. The deepest wounds took more concentration. Elspeth closed her eyes again and imagined the healing power flowing from her touch like a stream of warmth.

  Elspeth knew there was a fine line between healing someone else and hurting herself. But at that moment she didn’t care. She needed Cait to be healed. She needed to fight with her another day.

  Elspeth’s arms became heavy and cumbersome. But still she pressed on, because beneath her fingertips the wounds closed and the skin repaired. She tried to open her eyes but found her lids were too heavy. Still, she poured her energy into Caitrin.

  She heard voices calling her name, but she was unable to respond. Her tongue refused to move. Her mouth refused to open. Yet the healing powers still flowed freely from her.

  Someone caught her when she finally could sit up no longer. Strong arms closed around her body. She wanted to complain about someone moving her away from Caitrin, since her friend needed her help. Her eyes fluttered open.

  “What have you gone and done, love?” Ben said before the darkness overtook her.

  When Elspeth’s body went limp, Ben slid his arm under her legs, lifted her, and cradled her against him. “Ellie!” he said, shaking her just a bit.

  A moment earlier he’d been trying to calm Alec’s nerves when he sensed Elspeth slipping away. It was as though part of his soul crumbled. He’d raced to Miss Macleod’s room just as she slumped forward.

  He glanced around the room, unsure what to do. In the doorway, Mr. Macleod looked on. “Is she all right?”

  “Does she look bloody all right?” he barked.

  Sorcha Ferguson stepped from behind the older gentleman. “Let’s get her a room so she can lie down.”

  Ben shook his head. If he left her with these vultures, he’d never get her back. He could feel it. “I’m taking her home. You can summon a doctor for whatever else Miss Macleod and her maid need.”

 
He stalked toward the door with Elspeth in his arms. Sorcha and Mr. Macleod stepped out of his way, though the young witch followed in his wake. “Ye canna take her from here. There isna anyone at the cottage ta look after her.”

  “I’ll look after her,” he growled over his shoulder as he began to descend the steps.

  At the bottom of the staircase, Alec gaped at him. “What happened?”

  “She collapsed.”

  Ben reached the bottom and started for the door, but Alec’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Where are you going?”

  Sorcha’s panicked voice came from behind him. “He says he’s goin’ ta take her home.”

  “Ben,” Alec’s voice lowered so that only Ben could hear. “You can’t do that. She’s better off here.”

  Ben didn’t respond except to glare at his friend.

  There was no way in hell he was leaving her with these people. No one would watch after her like he would.

  Apparently Alec saw the determination in his eyes, because he released Ben’s arm. “Obstinate dolt. In the very least you can’t walk her through the woods like this. Take my coach.”

  “Thank you.”

  The butler pulled open the large oak door, and Ben stepped out into the bright sunlight. Alec’s coach was still out front, and he yelled to the driver, “Open the door.”

  A moment later they were both safely ensconced inside the carriage, Elspeth still cradled in his arms. Seeing her pale face, he touched her cheek. She was icy cold. He held her tighter, hoping his hot blood would warm her some. “Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes for me.”

  Before they could rumble off, the coach door opened and Sorcha Ferguson climbed inside the carriage. With a “humph,” she flopped onto the bench opposite Ben, a frown etched across her brow.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled.

  The coach moved forward and a look of fear crossed the girl’s face, but she bravely met his gaze head-on. “Obviously, I’m goin’ with ye.”

  “I don’t need you.”

  “I’m no’ doin’ it for ye. Elspeth’s my friend, and ye should be nicer ta me. I’m the only one on yer side.”

  The vines that attacked him were still fresh in his mind. “Indeed? I suppose that ivy took it upon itself to tangle me up, then?”