by Lydia Dare
Ben trailed his hand up Elspeth’s back, to squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll leave you for a minute, then. My wife thinks I’m a terrible host. I’ll go practice my manners.”
Elspeth’s heart swelled at his generosity. She looked back at him and smiled her gratitude. “I’ll be along shortly.”
When he disappeared into the cottage, Caitrin let go a huge sigh. “Blast him for bein’ gracious.”
Elspeth couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s no’ as bad as ye think, Cait. He’s quite wonderful, really.”
Caitrin walked farther into the darkness and kicked a pebble from her path, which skittered across the grass. “I suppose I’m selfish, El. I just dinna want the Còig ta fall apart. I hope it’s all worth it.”
Elspeth shook her head, following her friend. “Cait, who said the Còig would fall apart? So I’ve married Benjamin. He knows who we are. He knows what I am. He doesna mind it, except when fireballs are thrown at his head or he’s held captive by vines.”
Caitrin stopped walking, and in the moonlight El could see her friend’s incredulous stare. “Are ye daft, Elspeth Cam—” She took a deep breath. “Ye canna believe he’ll let ye stay here. He’s Sassenach. He’s no’ goin’ ta stay here. And ye think he’ll let his bride stay without him? He’ll take ye ta London, and we’ll never see ye again. And that’ll be it.”
Elspeth didn’t believe that for a moment. “I am goin’ ta London, Cait, but only ta search out my father. Ben says there’s a man there who can help me. Ye canna possibly ken what this means ta me.”
“And then ye’ll return?” Cait snorted in disbelief. “Somehow I doona think that will happen. He wants ta keep ye from us, El. I doona ken why ye canna see it.”
“Ye’re wrong,” Elspeth whispered, though part of her wondered at that. He hadn’t mentioned them returning to Edinburgh. But he hadn’t mentioned them staying in London either. What were his plans?
“I suppose we’ll see, then, won’t we?”
Ben couldn’t hide his grin from Alec. His friend crossed the floor and removed a small vine of ivy that had somehow gotten wrapped around one of the buttons on his jacket. “Did you not think I’d notice your absence?”
Ben ran a hand through his hair. “I thought you might be gentleman enough not to mention it.”
Alec laughed. “You know me better than that, my friend.”
Had the situation been reversed, Ben wouldn’t miss the opportunity to rib Alec. He clapped his hand on MacQuarrie’s back. “Do you have any suggestions on how to get rid of all these people? I’m anxious to have my wife all alone.”
Alec glanced around the room at the other well-wishers. “So you haven’t lost interest in her, then?” he asked, avoiding Ben’s eyes.
He shook his head. “I don’t see that ever happening, MacQuarrie. You can rest at ease. She’s the one.”
“Take care of her, Westfield. She deserves better than her lot so far.” Then, without waiting for a response, Alec stepped away from him and spoke loudly to the room. “Tomorrow morning you’re all welcome to join me at my home for a wedding breakfast in honor of his lordship’s union.”
A smattering of applause and a chorus of hurrahs broke out. Alec started toward the cottage door, herding the others out as he went. He threw a glance over his shoulder as the last of the neighbors left, smiling. “You owe me, Westfield.”
Ben saluted his friend, just as Elspeth returned to the cottage. Alec dropped a kiss to her cheek. “Congratulations again, Lady Elspeth.”
“Thank ye, Mr. MacQuarrie.”
As Alec left, Elspeth turned her questioning gaze to Ben. “Everyone streamed out of here as if the place were on fire. I thought ye were goin’ ta work on yer hostin’ skills, my lord.”
Ben stepped across the room and drew her back into his embrace. “I’d much rather host only you, my lady-wife.”
A pretty blush stained her cheeks as she rested her hands on his chest. “Did ye ask them all ta leave?”
“Alec,” he explained. “Apparently the only way to get hoards of Scots from your home is to promise them another party. I don’t know how he’ll get rid of them tomorrow.”
Elspeth giggled and he scooped her up in his arms. “Benjamin, what are ye doin’?”
“Taking my wife to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
She stared at him quizzically, which wasn’t exactly the look he’d wanted. “What’s tomorrow?”
“After Alec’s impromptu wedding breakfast, we’ll start for London.”
Elspeth pushed against his hard chest. “Put me down.” His hold tightened instead, and her temper began to rise. “Ben, I said put me down,” she said more forcefully.
“What’s wrong, Ellie?” he asked, allowing her to slide down his body until she was back on her feet.
“We canna start for London tomorrow.”
He blinked at her, his hazel eyes shrouded in confusion. “Why not?”
The man seemed so intelligent most of the time. Why had he picked now to play a dolt? “Have ye not heard a word I said, Ben?”
“I hear every word you say. I like the sound of your voice.”
So now he was going to try to be charming? Well, Elspeth wasn’t going to let him distract her. “I want ta go ta London. I want… no, I need ta find my father, livin’ or dead, one way or the other. But I canna leave tomorrow.”
Ben frowned at her. So he had listened to her; he just didn’t remember what she’d said. Well, that seemed like something a wife should know. “Benjamin Westfield, I told ye this very mornin’ that I wouldna leave until ye were healed. Everythin’ I need is here—”
“About that,” he interrupted, and his frown darkened. “There’s no need to wait, Elspeth; you won’t be healing me.”
If he’d sprouted wings or burst into flame she wouldn’t have been more surprised. “I willna be healin’ ye?”
He shook his head. “And I’d like to get a start on our journey ahead. I’m certain my mother will love you. I’m anxious for you to meet her. And…”
Elspeth stopped listening and she stumbled backward. He didn’t have any faith in her. He didn’t think she could do it.
A numbness washed over her and she blinked back her tears.
“Ellie,” she heard him say, but she shook her head. She hadn’t thought anything through. She’d been so caught up in her feelings for him, she hadn’t asked the right questions or heard the right answers. And now she was married to a man who didn’t believe in her.
Ben’s arm wrapped around her and kept her from falling. His concerned expression pulled at her heart, and she couldn’t look in his eyes for fear that she couldn’t contain her tears. “Let me go, Ben.”
“You don’t look well, sweetheart.” He directed her to the settee. “Here, sit.” Then he sat beside her, clutching her hands in his. “Are you still feeling weak?”
She shook her head, still not meeting his eyes. “I think maybe ye should go ta London without me.” Her words surprised her as much as they seemed to surprise him if his gasp was any indication.
“I beg your pardon?”
Elspeth stared at their entwined hands. “Ye can talk ta yer major for me. Ye doona need me.” The last bit was especially hard to get out; the truth that he didn’t need her stung in her throat.
“Elspeth Westfield,” he growled near her ear. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“People here trust me, Ben. They need me.”
“Well, they can all hang. You’re my wife.”
She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. “I was a healer long before today.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw and his eyes hardened. “Not anymore, Ellie.”
The wind whooshed out of her lungs. Before she could find the words to properly thrash him, he continued.
“I almost lost you today. Do you know what that did to me? Finding you slumped over Caitrin Macleod? And you were so cold, like a lake frozen solid. I could barely mak
e out your heartbeat it was so slow. So no more healing. A doctor could have tended to Miss Macleod, and doing so wouldn’t drain his life force.”
She gaped at him. He cared about her, even if he had no faith in her abilities. Still, it was disheartening. “I’ll have ye ken today was an anomaly. I’ve been helpin’ people for years, Ben. From time ta time I get a little weak, but with Cait… well, we’re so close, and—”
“Sorcha explained all of that to me, lass. I won’t put you in danger, and neither will anyone else.”
And that was why he didn’t want her to heal him. It wasn’t even the same thing at all. Stubborn man. He should have asked questions before making decisions that affected them both. “Ye told me from the beginnin’, Ben, that being a Lycan meant everythin’ ta ye. This mornin’ when I told ye I knew how ta heal ye, I’ve never seen yer face light up so. And now ye’re willin’ ta go through life like a human, turn yer back on who and what ye really are?”
His brow furrowed and he looked at least a decade older than his twenty-six years. “I feel enough like my old self when I’m with you, Ellie. I don’t need anything else.”
“Ye told me ye needed ta be able ta change with the moon. Ye left yer home and yer family ta seek me out.”
He rubbed his hands across his face and rose from his spot. “You’re close to Caitrin, Elspeth, and that closeness nearly took you from me today.” He stood over her glowering, his hazel eyes dangerously dark. “What we have, you and I, goes beyond closeness. We are connected in a way I don’t even understand, a way I didn’t even know was possible. So, no, you’re not going to heal me. Do you think I would risk losing you, just so I can change to wolf once a month and howl at the moon with my brothers?”
As infuriating as he was, she didn’t think anyone had ever cared so much about her. Elspeth reached her hand up and caressed his cheek. “Ben,” she said softly.
He closed his eyes and kissed her palm. “I won’t let you do it, Ellie.”
She heaved a sigh. “It’s no’ the same sort of thing, Ben. I told ye this mornin’ I have my mother’s potions and spells. I ken how she fixed him, and if ye’d stop bein’ so stubborn and listen ta me, ye’d ken I willna be in any danger.”
His eyes narrowed at her. “The extent of your healing will be potions and spells. You will not waste your own energy on me?”
“Silly man. I plan ta spend some of my energy on ye, but not in that way.” She felt the heat creep up her face as he tipped her chin toward his and chuckled.
He briefly touched his lips to hers before he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. “You can spend as much of that kind of energy on me as you like,” he assured her before he tossed her into the middle of the bed and shrugged out of his shirt.
Thirty
BEN STRETCHED TO HIS FULL HEIGHT IN THE SMALL BED, groaning as his head bumped the headboard and his heels hung off the end of the mattress. He lifted his head and looked around. If he spent any more time in Elspeth’s bed, he would have to purchase one made for a fully grown Lycan. Even a normal man would have been uncomfortable in her bed, which was just wide enough for her to sleep comfortably, alone.
He smiled slowly to himself as he remembered adjusting her body during the night to pull her as close to him as he could. He had drawn her into the saddle of his hips, but then her beautiful round bottom taunted him. He had pressed her front to his, but then her nipples teased his chest. Finally he had roused her gently, pulled her atop him, and slid inside her. Then she’d fallen asleep in that position after they’d both found their pleasure, her cheek above his heart, her hair a fiery tangle around them both.
He would love to sleep with her in that position every night for the rest of his life. But they would have to do so in a bigger bed. He added it to his mental to-do list. Right behind install shutters.
Her room was awash with offensive sunlight, the kind that forces one to rise even if one doesn’t want to. Ben rolled to his side and clutched the edge of the bed to keep from falling off. He pulled the sheet over his hips before he crooked his elbow and rested his head in his overturned palm.
“Ellie,” he called. A clatter of pots and pans met his greeting. He groaned. “Ellie!” he called more loudly. The pots and pans ceased their clatter.
But it was Sorcha who stuck her head through the bedroom door. “Ye bellowed, my lord?” the young witch began drolly, then quickly drew her head back when she saw his state of undress. Her gasp was all it took to get him moving.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you witches how rude it is to interrupt newlyweds?” Ben called as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid into his pants. He tugged his shirt over his head with enough force to rip a seam. “Ugh,” he grunted. Between grass stains and tears, his valet would have Ben’s head when he saw the state of his employer’s wardrobe.
“Did anyone ever tell ye how rude it is ta call a woman inta a room when ye’re undressed?” the little witch shot back.
“I was calling for my wife,” Ben said. His voice lowered to a mumble. “Who I’d hoped would be very happy to see my state of undress.” And his state of readiness. “Why are you in my kitchen, Sorcha. And where is Ellie?” He pulled on a stocking and stuck his head through the door.
“Doona come out of there unless ye’re properly dressed.” She pointed a spoon at him in warning.
“Depends on your definition of ‘proper,’” Ben grunted as he adjusted the second stocking and padded into the room. He poured warm water for tea. Sorcha stood alone in the kitchen, pots cooking on every warming surface, spoons spinning at random, victims of their witchy powers. He shook his head. “And the word ‘proper’ should be used very loosely where you all are concerned.”
Sorcha pulled his cup from his hand and added something to it. “Elspeth said ye’re ta drink nothin’ but the blueberry.” She handed it back to him. “Careful, it’s hot.”
Ben nodded absently. “Thank you. Where’s Elspeth?”
The witch avoided his gaze. “The blueberry bush is ruled by the moon. As are ye.” She shrugged. “Or at least ye should be.”
“Sorcha?” he said firmly. “Where is Elspeth?”
The littlest witch hung her head. “They should’ve sent someone else,” she grumbled. Then her eyes met his before skittering away. “She’s gone on an errand.”
“What kind of errand?”
“The healin’ kind?” Was that a question?
“Where?” he barked as he strode back to the bedroom to put on his boots.
“She’s gone ta deliver the bairn for Mrs. Kincaid.”
“She delivers babies?” Ben was pretty sure that unmarried women were not normally allowed in the birthing room.
“Not really,” the girl hedged.
“Sorcha, you will tell me now,” he growled.
“She only goes if there’s healin’ needed.” She wrung her hands.
“You mean healing like she did with Caitrin?” He shook Sorcha’s shoulders. “Don’t you?”
She simply nodded.
He had told Elspeth that she was not to heal anyone else. She was not to put herself in danger. It wasn’t even possible that she had forgotten from the night before.
He forced Sorcha to tell him where to find her, then he took off at a run toward the Kincaids’ small cottage.
As he neared, he slowed and listened intently to the sounds coming from inside. He clearly heard Elspeth’s voice, clear and resonant as she encouraged the woman birthing the babe. He heard the frantic pacing of a heavy-footed man, whom he assumed was the father, in the front room of the house.
Ben rapped briefly on the door. It swung open and a man’s face met him. He was a bit younger than Ben, and obviously the expectant father, if the way he chewed his fingernails was any indication.
Ben suddenly was at a loss for words. He’d come fully prepared to wrest Elspeth from the clutches of people who would suck the life from her inert body, taking all the healing she had to offer and leaving nothing.
Nothing for him.
“My wife is here,” he started.
The man stepped back and opened the door widely.
“She’s a godsend, she is.”
Yes, she was.
“Seamus Kincaid,” the man said, offering his hand in greeting.
“Ben Westfield. How are things going?” he asked, although he knew he probably had better information than poor Seamus, since he could hear every word, mumble, and moan from inside the room.
“I doona ken,” Kincaid said quietly. “They willna let me in there.”
“I hear it’s not a place we would want to be.”
“Oh, no!” the man gasped. “I want ta be right there, holdin’ her hand. This is my fault, ye see.”
Ben clapped a hand to Seamus’ shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, and then he heard a whimper. “Ellie?” he asked as he turned toward the birthing room.
Elspeth had never attended such a frightening delivery. The woman had been laboring for hours. If the bairn wasn’t delivered soon, there would be nothing Elspeth could do. She couldn’t heal the dead. She could only heal the living.
The midwife instructed Mrs. Kincaid, telling her when to push and when to rest. She’d known for some time what powers Elspeth had. She’d used them in her presence on enough occasions. The first time had been an accident. But the woman had just chuckled and said, “Well, that’s quite the thing,” as though El had just shown her a new pair of earbobs.
The mothers never knew of her powers; they were usually too far gone by the time she intervened to notice what she did. And she’d never asked for any credit. Healing was a gift, and she was meant to share it. To do anything less would go against her very nature.
She heard the door when it opened a crack. “Elspeth,” Ben called. “Are you all right?”
Elspeth got up and walked to the door, opening it only enough that he could see her face. “What are ye doin’ here, Ben?”
“I had to come and find my wife,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
She nodded to the man over his shoulder. “Tell him that when he loses them both,” she whispered. “Because I willna do it.”
