by Lydia Dare
“But my father. The Society,” she prompted.
“Oh, we’ll see Major Forster and have him search the records for any clues to your father. But after all that you’ll want to come back here. And I want nothing more than to make you happy, Ellie.”
Though he hadn’t spoken of his own happiness. “And what about what ye want? It’s no’ all about me, ye ken.”
“I bought the land so that we could build a home and start a family. And my thought at the time was that it’s fairly secluded, so I would have the privacy I’d need when the moon is full. But I’m no longer Lycan. So it’s not a problem anymore.”
“No longer Lycan?” She stood up swiftly. “What do ye mean no longer Lycan?”
“I mean I didn’t change. So the moon means very little to me now.” He tried to hide it, though there was pain in his eyes when they met hers. “But I have you, so it’s all right.”
“It most definitely is no’ all right.” She pushed the blueberry pie toward him. “Eat up, because I will find the Lycan in ye if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“Maybe it’s better this way. You won’t have to worry about my hurting you again.”
Elspeth’s heart ached as he said the words; his weeklong isolation had left her worried and fractured while he was away. It hurt all the more knowing how he must have blamed himself. She knew the loss of his confidence wasn’t good for him. “Benjamin, ye dinna mean ta hurt me, I ken that. And truly, if I’d known what ta expect, I doona think I’d have reacted the way I did. I’ll be better prepared for next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, Ellie. I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever hurt you again.”
She rose from her seat and brushed the hair from his brow. “Please doona say such things. Seeing ye miserable is more painful ta me than a few bruises.”
He looked so forlorn, it nearly broke her heart.
“Will ye do anythin’ I ask of ye?”
“You know I will.”
She kissed his brow. “Eat yer pie, Ben.”
He groaned, but picked up his fork.
Ben nuzzled against Elspeth’s neck. She slept so soundly, and her rhythmic breathing calmed him in a way he hadn’t felt for days. There was something about the woman in his arms. She brought him such peace and harmony. All he’d given her in return was scaring the hell out of her and turning her life upside down.
If he had it to do over, he never would have tangled her life with his. She was kindness, compassion, and purity all rolled into one, and she deserved so much better than him. But the die was cast. He was her husband in every sense, and nothing anyone could do would change that.
So he’d have to make it up to her. If she wanted the moon, he’d find a way to catch it in a net and offer it to her. If she wanted jewels or silks, he’d keep her supplied in them for life. If she wanted to go to London… well, he supposed, they’d leave as soon as possible.
Elspeth rolled in her sleep and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I love ye, Ben,” she whispered against his skin, and he felt the words deep in his soul.
He caressed her back and tangled his hands in her fiery hair. “Rest well, Ellie.”
Thirty-seven
Elspeth grinned when Sorcha entered the cottage carrying a full-grown hyssop plant. “Sorry I dinna make it back yesterday, El. I got a bit caught up,” her friend explained as she put the potted plant on the kitchen table.
Stepping forward, Elspeth ran her fingers over one of the pretty blue flowers. “Doona fash yerself, Sorcha. It’s just fine.”
The young witch glanced around the cottage. “Is Lord William no’ here?”
Elspeth raised one brow. “Oh, I understand perfectly now, ye goose. Ye wanted to wait ‘til ye thought his lordship was here ta bring me my hyssop.”
Sorcha blushed. “He is rather handsome.”
“Oh, doona start again.”
Her friend giggled. “Ye’re a mean witch, El. Ye have yer very own Lycan; why shouldn’t I have one, too?”
“In the first place, I already told ye, Lord William is too old for ye. And secondly, from what Ben says, some English lass has hold of his heart.” Though Elspeth wasn’t so sure if that was true. Why would William make an appointment with some lass at the Thistle and Thorn if this Prisca Hawthorne woman held the strings to his heart? If Ben Westfield ever thought to do such a thing, she’d… well, what would she do? The answer hit her and she bit back a laugh. She’d turn him into a frog, like any other proper witch, of course.
“What are ye smilin’ about?” Sorcha asked sourly. “I doona think it’s amusin’ at all.”
Elspeth hugged the girl tightly. “Doona fret, dear. I’m sure Cait’ll eventually tell ye who yer true love is.”
Sorcha grinned. “Perhaps I should ask her specifically about Lord William.”
“Aye.” Elspeth rolled her eyes. “That’ll go over real well. Ye ken how fond she is of Ben. I’d love ta hear ye ask her about Lord William. Just give me time ta get ta Aberdeen before ye question her, so the screaming willna hurt my ears.”
At that moment, Ben walked out of the bedroom, a devilish smile across his lips. He’d obviously heard every word, and Elspeth turned away from him to hide her blush.
“Sorcha,” Ben began playfully. “You’re too sweet a girl to lose your heart to my scoundrel of a brother.”
She didn’t even have the good sense to be embarrassed that he’d caught their entire conversation. “Is there really a lass in England?” Sorcha asked, stepping closer to Ben.
He patted the top of her head. “Yes, and a wonderful lass she is, too. He broke her heart, and I won’t let him do the same to you.”
Sorcha furrowed her brow and twisted her lips in contemplation. “Is she very pretty?”
“Havers! Sorcha,” Elspeth groaned, “the man is nearly twice yer age. It doesna matter if the lass is Helen of Troy or Helen of the trolls.”
Her friend slumped into a seat at the table, touching one flower of the hyssop and causing it to turn brown and fall off the stem. Elspeth snatched the pot away from Sorcha and scowled. “Doona hurt my plant with yer dark mood.”
Sorcha sighed. “Bring it back, I’ll fix it.”
Elspeth shook her head. “It’s fine. Doona worry about it. And honestly, Sorch, ye just turned sixteen. There’s no rush.”
The girl shrugged and muttered something under her breath, though Elspeth couldn’t quite make it out. Then she rose from her spot. “Well, then, I’ve got lots to keep me busy.” She started for the door.
“Thanks,” Elspeth called, “for the hyssop.”
Sorcha waved her hand in acknowledgment then shut the door behind her.
Elspeth noticed Ben wore an amused look. “What is lady’s mantle?” he asked.
She sucked in a breath. “Where did ye hear that?”
“Sorcha mumbled it on her way out.”
Elspeth rubbed her face in frustration. “The little sneak!”
“What is it?” he asked again, but this time concern laced his voice.
“It’s used in love potions. Ye’d better warn yer brother no’ ta eat or drink anythin’ in Sorcha’s presence.”
Ben threw back his head and roared with laughter.
She punched her hands to her hips. “I hardly think it’s funny. It’s a very powerful plant. And she could make it more potent than anyone else.”
He dropped down to the settee and pulled Elspeth with him. She landed on his lap, and her mouth fell open in surprise. “Ben!”
“It’s hard to imagine anyone wanting Will that badly.”
“Well, he’s yer brother. I imagine ye doona see him the way women do.”
Ben’s muscles tensed beneath her. “Oh, and how do you see him?” he growled.
Elspeth leaned forward and kissed his jaw. “As my brother-in-law.”
He held her tighter and kissed her brow. “It’s no matter anyway. Will can breathe easy, since we’ll all be on our way soon.”
“Ye mean
ta London?”
He nodded. “Can you tie up your loose ends so we can leave in the morning?”
She’d already talked to Rhiannon about watching the cottage for her and helping those who needed her. The weather-channeling witch didn’t have the same healing powers, but she could mix potions. Most people didn’t need the sort of healing Elspeth was capable of, and Rhiannon could fill the void for a while.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Alec MacQuarrie’s persnickety butler pointed Ben toward the library. There were a couple of people Ben would miss when he left Scotland, but this particular servant wasn’t one of them.
He sighed when his eyes landed on his old friend, who frowned with concentration and turned the pages of an old tome. “Looking for something in particular?”
Alec closed his book with a thud. “Ah, Ben, just doing a little light reading.”
Light reading? The volume looked to be thicker than the betting book at White’s. Ben couldn’t read the spine or cover before his friend dropped it to the floor beside his chair.
“Care to join me?” Alec asked, sitting forward in his seat and gesturing to a matching overstuffed leather chair across from him.
Ben obliged him and raked a hand through his hair. Alec didn’t seem quite right, but he’d worry about that later. He had more important things on his mind at the moment. “I was hoping to find my brother here.”
Alec smiled. “He’s still abed. Poor fellow raced from England without stopping, as though the fires of hell chased after him.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’m housing not one but two of his drivers. They apparently traded off the whole way, switching with the horses. He didn’t rest at even one inn along the way, always moving forward.”
Good God! All because Will found out that Ben had been writing Prisca? He shook his head. “I do believe my brother is more complicated than I originally thought.”
Alec laughed. “I could say the same about you, my friend.”
“Complicated” didn’t even begin to describe Ben’s life at the moment. He shrugged. “I also came to say good-bye. I’ve decided to take Elspeth to London.”
At that, Alec winced.
“We’ll be back, MacQuarrie,” Ben teased. “It’s only
for a while. I intend to have my new home here, like we discussed. With the most modern conveniences, a jewel in the Westfield crown.”
Alec’s grimace deepened. “About that…” He scratched his head. “There’s been a slight problem with your traveling coach, Ben. I was hoping to have it repaired before you needed it.”
“What sort of problem?” he asked as a feeling of dread washed over him.
“Strangest thing, really. The day we had that awful storm, the day Miss Ferguson and I accompanied you to the vicarage…” Alec shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “When you married Elspeth.”
Ben’s dread increased. “Get on with it, already.”
“Well, my groomsman said a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and… well, it struck the top of your coach—”
Ben fell against the back of his chair. Rhiannon’s storm. That little witch purposely ruined his coach! And ever since then she’d been as sweet as could be.
“—There’s a gaping hole in the top from where it caught ablaze.”
“Good God!” Ben muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
Alec scoffed. “Well, you took off for a week and no one could find you, and before that you’d been a little preoccupied with your wife. I just thought I’d have it taken care of for you. Sort of a wedding present.”
“How am I to take Ellie to London now?”
“Will brought his own carriage. You could go back with him,” Alec suggested.
Ben groaned. He’d envisioned spending a fortnight with Elspeth inside his carriage. William had never entered those fantasies, and he’d rather not put him there. Maybe they could delay going until his carriage was travel-ready. Then he thought of the way her smile had lit up in the cottage when he told her they were leaving. She was already getting things in order for them to depart.
A fortnight with Will. He cringed at the thought, but he didn’t really have a choice. “I suppose I’d better go wake the blackguard.”
He left Alec to search out his brother’s room. Dear God, he hated the idea of traveling with Will! Even Simon would be better. Simon wouldn’t chat his ear off or try to charm Elspeth right from under his nose.
Ben tossed open Will’s door and didn’t even bother to knock. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to find a naked maid draped across his sleeping brother’s form, but he did suck in a startled breath.
The sound woke the poor lass, who squealed and pulled the counterpane up to cover herself. Will blinked open his eyes, a lazy smile on his lips. “It is customary to knock, little brother.”
Ben scowled at him. “I’ll wait in the hallway.” Then he stalked out and shut the door behind him. He could hear Will trying to soothe the lass while she dressed, promising her that his brother knew how to be discreet.
Finally the girl opened the door and scurried past Ben, her face the color of over-ripened strawberries. Inside the chamber, Will pulled his trousers up around his hips and grinned unrepentantly. “I suppose you need something, Benjamin.”
He stepped inside the room and closed the door. “Have you no care for your reputation, Will?”
One dark eyebrow rose in question. “Since when do such things matter to you?”
He sighed. Will was right. Not that long ago he would have done the same sort of thing. “But one of Alec’s maids?” He hated that he sounded like a prude.
Will chuckled as he pulled a fresh shirt over his head and began to tuck it into his trousers. “I’m certain my little brother didn’t leave his quaint cottage to chastise me about my bed partners. What do you want, Benjamin?”
“I suppose you’re heading back to London soon?”
“No reason to stay here.” Will slipped into a shiny grey waistcoat.
“Ah, well, I was hoping you’d consider taking Elspeth and me with you.”
Will’s hand stilled on one of his buttons. “You want to travel with me?”
Not particularly, though he didn’t have much of a choice. He shrugged. “You can get to know Ellie better.”
Will’s brow rose in amusement.
“Not that much better,” Ben growled. “Keep your hands off her.”
Will laughed again, shrugging into his jacket. “Didn’t you come here in your own coach?”
Ben sighed. It would have been so much easier with Simon. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. “My coach had a bit of an accident.”
“Oh?”
Then it hit Ben. He was going to have to tell his
brother everything. Well, almost. He still had no desire for Will or Simon or anyone else to know he was broken, but the general brushstrokes would have to work. “Elspeth’s a witch, Will.”
“Not a very complimentary thing to say about one’s wife, Benjamin.” Will reached into the armoire, retrieving a snowy white cravat.
His brother always made everything more difficult. “Not like that. I mean she’s a real witch. Can you stop moving for a bloody minute and listen to me?”
Will dropped the cravat on the bed and faced Ben, surprise reflecting in his light eyes. “A real witch?”
“Yes, and her coven hasn’t exactly welcomed me with open arms. I just found out that one of them sent a bolt of lightning straight through the roof of my coach.”
“Sent a bolt of lightning?” Will echoed. “They have those sorts of powers?”
Actually, it was a relief to say the words aloud to someone else who wouldn’t think he was mad. “And then some. I’ve been attacked by fireballs and plants intent on cutting off my circulation. Which reminds me, Elspeth wanted me to warn you not to eat or drink anything in Miss Ferguson’s presence.”
“Why not?”
“She
thinks the girl is creating a love potion with you in mind.”
Will smirked. “The chit doesn’t have to go to all that trouble. She’s quite a pretty little thing.”
“You’re old enough to be her father,” Ben barked.
His brother’s smile faded immediately. “How old is she?”
“Sixteen.”
Will’s smile returned. “I hardly think I was fathering children at twelve, Benjamin.”
Ben resisted the urge to growl. “Just stay away from the girl. She’s like a little sister to Ellie.”
“Very well. So you need a ride to London?”
Ben nodded. “If you don’t mind. We’d like to leave tomorrow.”
“Before lightning can strike my coach?” Will joked.
“Go ahead and laugh. They’re a formidable force.”
Thirty-eight
Ben rolled over in the big willow bed and reached for Elspeth as soon as the sun came up over the green hills of Edinburgh. He smiled to himself when his hand stroked over her hip. He loved waking up beside her in the morning. This was the first morning he’d actually been able to do so. She usually woke with the chickens, but he was much more used to Town hours.
Without opening her eyes, she rolled toward him and placed a hand over his heart. Fiery locks of hair covered her face, disheveled beautifully from sleep. He brushed them back with the tips of his fingers, lingering to draw his finger teasingly down her nose. She twitched it and smiled a sleepy smile.
She moved to stretch, rolling onto her back. “Time to get up?” she asked, her voice crackly from sleep.
“Not yet,” he said as he began to unbutton her nightrail. He moved down her chest and placed a kiss on the skin he’d exposed. “We have time.”
But then he lifted his head when he heard footsteps on the walk. Dainty footsteps. Feminine footsteps. Witchy footsteps. He groaned and laid his head on her belly. “Sorcha’s here,” he mumbled against her skin.
Elspeth giggled, causing the muscles of her stomach to ripple under his head. “Are ye hearin’ things again?” she laughed.
“In three… two… one…” he whispered, counting down on his fingers. Then a gentle knock sounded on the door. Elspeth slipped from beneath him and buttoned her nightrail as she stood up.
