by Lydia Dare
He’d actually thought to keep her from her life’s work? He’d thought to keep her from healing? He would be more likely to get her to stop breathing at his command.
“Ellie,” he started.
“Ben, ye willna change my mind.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched.
The woman in the bed behind her moaned, and Elspeth closed the door quickly despite his quick protest. She knew the door was a flimsy barrier between the two of them. But it offered some privacy for a moment.
The midwife worked to turn the baby within the mother, as only she knew how to do. With a grunt of satisfaction, she washed her hands quickly in a bowl of water and clapped them together.
“Now we can deliver this babe,” she said, her eyes aglow. They wouldn’t need Elspeth after all. Within moments, the mother held the bundled baby against her chest, a contented but exhausted smile upon her face.
Elspeth opened the door wide and invited the harried father inside, then quietly took Ben’s hand in her own and pulled him out the door.
They walked briefly in silence as he tightened his jaw beside her.
“Ye do a poor imitation of a happy man, Ben,” she finally said.
“What were you thinking back there, Elspeth?”
“I was thinkin’ that someone needed me.” Surely he understood.
“I need you.” He took her hand and pulled it to his chest, covering it with his own.
“Aye, tell that ta the good people of Edinburgh,” she laughed as she pointed toward her own cottage, where three people already stood outside, waiting for her help.
Ben worked beside her for the rest of the day, refusing to leave her side. If he left her, she would probably take it into her head that she needed to heal someone. He couldn’t allow that.
She passed out bottles of herbal medicine for coughs, made poultices for wounds, and even gave a child a teaspoon of sugar to help stop her hiccoughs. Everyone received a smile and a treatment for what ailed them.
As the sun finally sank in the sky, she turned to her husband, blew a lock of hair from her eyes, and grinned. “Now it’s yer turn.”
“My turn?” Ben asked, placing a sarcastic hand upon his chest. “You mean to say that I get some attention from the great healer?” He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.
“Aye, ye get me all ta yerself.” She pulled a large washtub from the corner of the room and placed it before the fire. Then she began to methodically fill it with warm water, boiled on the stove. Ben took over the task, unable to watch her work when she had shadows beneath her eyes.
“Let’s worry about me tomorrow, love,” he said softly as he pulled her down onto his lap. She immediately curled into him, soft and yielding as she kissed his neck.
“But I want ye naked now,” she said, her voice a little huskier than before, and she began to tug his shirt from his trousers. He lifted his arms and let her pull it over his head.
“You want me naked?” he joked. “All you had to do was say so.” His fingers tangled with hers as she reached for the buttons of his trousers. He left that to her tender care and started on her clothes.
“What are ye doin’?” she asked as she pressed her lips to the space beneath his ear.
“Undressing you. What else?”
“But I’m no’ in need of a medicinal bath,” she teased, standing up. Her dress fell from her body and landed in a heap upon the floor. She stood still and proud before him, nearly naked. He groaned and reached for her. She slipped from his grasp.
“Inta the tub with ye,” she said, pointing her finger toward the washtub. Ben shrugged out of his clothes and stepped into the water, sighing softly as the warmth surrounded him. She stood outside his grasp. He reached for her.
“No, no,” she teased as she dropped dried flower petals into the water.
Ben sniffed. “You want me to smell like a flower?” He sniffed again. “Like a gardenia, no less?” Though he would smell like roses if it made her smile like she smiled at that moment.
“Gardenia is ruled by the moon,” she said quietly as she picked up a cloth and began to gently sponge the water onto him.
“Like blueberries?” he asked, laying his head back, happy to simply enjoy her loving ministrations.
“Stronger than the blueberry.” She twitched her nose. “The fragrance calls ta the moon. So it canna hurt ye ta wear it.”
“Can’t you wear the fragrance and I’ll just keep you with me? I promise not to leave your side.”
“I think ye made that quite obvious today,” she scolded him gently. He growled at her as her hand brushed over his nipple.
She sat up to pick up a bottle of gardenia oil and poured a few drops into the bath. The oil shimmered on the surface of the water. But nothing shimmered brighter than her smile.
Elspeth sat back to pick up the cloth again, and his eyes trailed down her body. Her chemise was transparent when wet. Her nipples stood hard against the sheer fabric, the triangle between her thighs beckoning to him.
“How long am I expected to endure this torture?” he growled.
“About an hour.” She put her hands on her hips. Her breasts shifted. “‘Torture’ is a mighty strong word for a perfumed bath,” she scolded.
“I can’t stand an hour.” He reached for her hand and pulled it into the water. Her fingers fluttered briefly before they closed around his length. “And even less time if you do that,” he snarled.
“Ye’re the one who pulled my hand inta the water,” she reminded him saucily as her fingertips continued to play across his flesh.
Ben groaned, and with just one arm around her waist, he lifted her from beside the tub and drew her into it.
“Ben!” she squealed as water rolled over the edges of the tub.
“If I have to stay in the bath for an hour, I’ll have you with me.” He turned her away from him so that her back rested against his chest. Then he cupped her breast in his hand, rolling the nipple with his thumb.
“We both canna fit in this tub,” she gasped.
“I think I’ll fit just fine,” he whispered, the sound no more than a quick brush across her cheek as his hand slid between her thighs and parted her flesh.
“Aye, we both ken ye fit there.” Her gasp broke when his fingers rubbed her folds, parting her silky flesh, finding her warm and willing.
“I want to be inside you,” he breathed before drawing her earlobe between his teeth.
Ben’s hands adjusted her body so that she opened above him. He parted her folds and pressed himself insistently against her center. She settled over him like a warm silken glove. He groaned as she sighed, her head falling back against his shoulder.
Ben lifted her legs over the rim of the tub, parting them so that he could rest his hand in her curls.
“This isna the best position, I’d wager,” she said. But then she inhaled deeply when he firmly rubbed around her center.
“It’s a perfect position,” he groaned. As he began to stroke her, she arched her hips to meet him, moving along his length in time with his fingers.
Her tiny movements pushed him in farther and farther as his fingers moved faster and faster.
“Watch me,” he whispered against her ear.
“No,” she gasped, pushing her head into his forearm.
“Watch, or I’ll stop.” His fingers stilled until she lifted her head and looked down at his hand.
That was all it took to make her erupt around him, the sight of him toying with her, just as he’d known it would. He quickly followed.
Thirty-one
“ELLIE,” BEN BEGAN AS SHE PLACED A BOWL OF hardboiled eggs in front of him. “I never thought to have my wife cook for me. I’m fairly plump in the pockets. Can’t I hire someone for you?”
Hire someone to cook for her? Elspeth couldn’t help but laugh. Then she slid into a seat across from her husband at the small table. “Eat the eggs, Ben; they’re for rejuvenation.”
“Rejuvenation,” he gru
mbled. “What I really need is a new bed. That would rejuvenate me.” Then he rubbed the back of his neck.
Which, of course, she knew. He did talk in his sleep. He also had a point. Her bed was rather small, especially for a man his size. “Well, I believe ye’ll be happy with what Sorcha has planned for ye then.”
“Oh?” he asked warily before plopping one egg into his mouth. After swallowing, he leaned forward. “I don’t know that I liked the way you said that.”
Elspeth smiled at him. “I think ye’ll be pleasantly surprised, my lord.”
“Meaning you’re not going to tell me.” He frowned as he eyed another egg. “How many of these do I have to eat?”
She laughed again. “My, ye’re rather grumpy this mornin’. And ye have ta eat all of them, Benjamin. That’s why I put them in front of ye.”
Finally he smiled at her. “Simon will adore you.”
“His Grace?” she asked in surprise. He so rarely spoke of his oldest brother, and then it was generally complaints.
“Hmm. You can take turns barking orders at me.”
“Eat yer eggs,” Elspeth said, rolling her eyes heavenward.
With a scowl he popped another egg into his mouth, and she slid from her seat to prepare him some more tea.
“I had no idea I married such a moody man, Ben. Ye seemed so sweet up ’til now,” she teased.
In a flash he stood behind her, hands on her waist, grinning like a fool. “It’s working, Ellie.” He glowed like an exuberant child.
She glanced back at the table. “The eggs?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what exactly, but you’re right. I am moody. I get moody, we all do, in the week leading up to the full moon.”
That was good news. She turned in his arms and slid her hands up his chest. “Indeed? Does that mean I can look forward ta a difficult husband one week a month for the rest of my life?”
Ben pulled her flush against him. “We also become more carnal.”
“More carnal?” she asked, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. “How will I ever survive?”
Ben nuzzled her shoulder and neck, nipping her lightly. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin, sending frissons of desire straight to her core. Her knees almost buckled, so she wrapped her arms around his waist to keep from falling.
His fingers tugged at the bodice of her gown, then they stilled. “Damn!” Ben grumbled, lifting his head.
“What?” she asked breathlessly, wanting his lips back on her skin.
“A coach just stopped.” He rested his forehead against hers, like a man defeated. “Ellie, I’m feeling much more like myself. Can’t we leave? A fortnight in a carriage with only you would do wonders for me. No one stopping by unannounced. No one else vying for your attention. Every night a new inn with a decent-sized bed.”
Elspeth leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Ben,” she whispered, “ye should finish yer eggs.”
“Rejuvenation, I know,” he muttered.
She kissed him again. “My moody wolf.” Then she righted her gown as a knock came from the door. She crossed the room, smoothing her skirts one last time before she opened the door.
From the threshold, Alec MacQuarrie winked at her then kissed her cheek. “My lady, you’re looking well.”
She opened the door wide. “Thank ye, Mr. MacQuarrie. Would ye like ta come in?”
He nodded and stepped into the room, his eyes focused on Ben. “Truly, in all the years I’ve known you, Westfield, I never thought to see you actually living in a cottage on the outskirts of Edinburgh.”
“Me neither,” Ben growled. “What do you want, Alec?”
Elspeth ignored her irritable husband and grinned at their guest. “I was just makin’ tea, Mr. MacQuarrie. Would ye care for some?”
The man smiled back. “That would be nice, lass.”
She started back toward the stove. As she walked past the table, Ben reached an arm out and pulled her onto his lap. She gasped in surprise. “Benjamin!”
He played with a lock of her hair, his hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. “In London, I have staff who will make tea for you, Elspeth. And a cook and more maids than you can count. Then you can focus all of your attention on me.”
She scrambled off his lap and planted both hands on her hips. “Do try ta behave. Ye have a guest.”
Ben shot an irritated look at his friend. “A guest who should know better than to disturb a newly married man.”
MacQuarrie laughed as he took a spot opposite Ben at the table. “Aye, a friend who didn’t take it personally when you skipped his wedding celebration in your honor.”
How could she have forgotten? Elspeth sucked in a breath. “Oh, Mr. MacQuarrie, I’m so sorry. That was my fault. I got called away.” She bustled to the stove and poured two cups of blueberry tea.
“Called away?” MacQuarrie echoed.
“Aye, Greer Kincaid was havin’ some difficulties.” When she sat a cup in front of them, she noticed a series of looks from one man to the other, a silent communication of some sort. She should let them have their privacy. “Anyway, I’ll leave the two of ye alone. Caitrin is expectin’ me this mornin’.”
“You’re leaving?” Ben asked, and started to rise from his seat.
Elspeth smiled at him. “I willna be long, Ben.”
He watched her, his mouth agape, as she wrapped her plaid around her shoulders and stepped out into the morning light. If she healed anyone along the way, he’d… well, he didn’t know what he’d do. Though it seemed obvious he’d have to convince her to leave Scotland soon.
“When you missed my breakfast, I just assumed you overslept.” Alec’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Or were still in bed, at the very least.”
Ben scowled at him.
Alec gave him a mock toast with his cup. “Blueberry tea?”
“That’s how Elspeth makes it.”
“It seems to me that Elspeth is the one making all the decisions. Who knew you could be a trained lap dog so easily?”
“Go to hell, MacQuarrie,” Ben growled.
His reaction only made his friend laugh. “Not that I’m passing judgment. If I could get Miss Macleod to accept me, I’d drink blueberry tea, and…” He sniffed the air. “You smell like a damned bouquet of flowers, Westfield.”
That was the last straw. Ben leapt from his spot and pulled Alec out of his seat. “Go pester someone else. Go pester Miss Macleod, for God’s sake.” If he did, perhaps Elspeth would come home.
Alec pushed himself free. “Well, I see your temper’s returned.” Then he straightened his coat and moved across the room to the threadbare settee. “Relax, Ben, I’m on your side. I may be the only one in Edinburgh.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Alec shrugged. “Everyone in town is worried you’re going to rush her off to London and they’ll never see her again.”
“That is the plan.” If only he could get his wife to go along with it.
“Well, it’ll never work,” Alec said softly.
“She’s my wife. I can take her any bloody place I want.” He dropped into a chair across from his friend.
Alec looked at him as though he’d taken the position of court jester. “Aye, she’s your wife, but she’s one of them. And they outnumber you, my friend—” And some of them threw fireballs when he wasn’t looking. “—She’s been taking care of them since she was a child. She’s not like you and me. She hasn’t lived a privileged life. This is all she knows.”
Ben slumped forward in his seat. “But I want to give her all of that now. I want to give her the world.”
“Might I make a suggestion, Westfield?”
Ben shrugged.
“Persephone and the pomegranate seeds.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Alec grinned. “You know, Hades and Persephone, the compromise with Demeter. The seasons.”
Greek mythology? He had always hated the stuff. “I’m afraid Will is the scholar. Just say wh
atever it is in plain English, Alec.”
“Do you not know the story?”
“Mythology is not a particular interest of mine.”
Alec laughed. “Well, then, take a lesson. Persephone was a lovely girl, the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of agriculture. Everyone who saw Persephone fell in love with her. She was beautiful, angelic. Even Hades, from his kingdom, fell for the girl. And he decided to have her for his own.
“One day when Persephone was collecting flowers, Hades appeared in his chariot. He scooped the lass up and drove her into a chasm leading to the underworld.
“Demeter was heartbroken and refused to let anything grow on earth, until finally Zeus had to intervene. He demanded Hades return Persephone to her mother so that the world wouldn’t wither away and die.
“Hades grudgingly agreed, but before he let Persephone go, he gave her a pomegranate for nourishment. Now, the lass knew better than to eat food from the underworld, but she was so hungry she ate six seeds from the fruit to tide her over. Her doing so gave Hades a claim on her, as strong as Demeter’s.
“So Zeus, in his infinite wisdom, made them agree to a compromise. Persephone would stay with Hades one month for each seed she ate. Half of the year she is with her husband, and the other half she’s with her mother.
“When Persephone is with Hades, Demeter is sad and the plants begin to die, until nothing is left alive. To you and me this is autumn and winter. And when she returns to her mother, spring and summer reign once again on earth.”
Ben heaved a sigh. “So in your little scenario, I’m Hades, the devil himself. Not terribly complimentary, MacQuarrie.”
Alec shook his head. “It figures you’d find some way to take offense.”
“So are you suggesting I make Elspeth eat pomegranate seeds? If so, I’ll have her eat twelve and not just a measly six,” he replied with a smirk.
“And you take offense to my Hades reference?” Alec sat forward in his seat. “It’s not the seeds, you dolt. Elspeth is your wife, but she’s part of them. All of you care for her, and none of you want to lose her. Split the time, Westfield. I know you’re anxious to have your family meet the lass, and that’s understandable. But do you truly see her being happy in London?”
