by Dare, Lydia
"I doona need yer help, ye ken. I'll manage just fine on my own."
Ben's eyes widened and he shook his head. "What did I say?"
"She never should have told ye," Elspeth snapped as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.
How could
she?
Elspeth had planned to tell him in her own time, in her own way.
"Told me what?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together as he reached for her.
Forty-eight
Elspeth avoided his touch and his gaze. They'd immediately gone from having a casual, comfortable conversation to her pulling away from him.
"What did I say? Please tell me so I can avoid saying it in the future." He recognized the bite of sarcasm in his own voice and chastised himself. This wasn't the time to show her his bruised ego. Caitrin told him not to say anything stupid, and he'd somehow done so anyway.
Elspeth sighed and raised her knees to wrap her arms around them. Then she dipped her head to rest on her knees. Her voice was muffled when she finally spoke. "Nothin'."
"I seem to have a way of putting my foot in my mouth, Ellie. I'm still learning, though. And I'm a quick study."
"I ken ye are," she said, her voice still muffled as she refused to raise her head.
What could he do to bring her back to him? He reached into the picnic basket and started to unload it. "Can you tolerate my presence long enough to eat with me?" He tried not to sound defeated, but it was difficult.
"Aye, I can tolerate ye." She finally raised her head and looked at him. "Her cook makes the best pheasant."
If he couldn't win her with his personality, at least he could win her with food. But when he unwrapped the roasted bird, Elspeth's hand immediately flew to her mouth. Her eyes grew round. And she turned a most horrid shade of green.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
She stood up quickly and ran to the bushes. He closed his eyes and pounded his forehead with his fist when he heard her cast up her accounts. Now his very presence made her sick. The situation was beginning to look hopeless. Instead of Caitrin telling him not to say anything stupid, she should have told him specifically what
not
to say.
A few minutes later she returned. Thankfully, the greenish tint to her skin had receded. "I'm sorry," she started.
He held up a hand. "That's quite all right. You can't help it if being with me makes you ill."
"It's no' that," she said as he passed her a cup of water to rinse her mouth out. "It was the smell of pheasant. I havena been feelin' my best lately." She looked toward the dish and shuddered. "I appreciate ye havin' it prepared for me, though."
Her hand lifted as though to caress his face, and he was so happy he nearly bumped his nose to her hand like a pup who wanted to be petted. But then she pulled back.
"So how do ye feel about what Caitrin told ye?"
"I was quite put out by it at first." Wouldn't anyone who'd been called an idiot be a little upset by it?
Elspeth gasped and pursed her lips.
"What did I do now?" he groaned.
Tears filled her green eyes and welled up behind her lashes but threatened to spill over at any moment. "I'd like ta go home, now."
Ben took Elspeth back to her cottage, his heart breaking the entire journey as she sniffed back tears. Her breathing was labored, and he felt like the biggest cad. If only he knew what stupid thing he'd said.
Once at her cottage, Ben walked her to the door, where he kissed her forehead softly and watched her as she brushed past him into the house. Her stance, which was usually so proud and erect, seemed almost defeated.
He stayed outside until she blew out the candles. Then he went to the Thistle and Thorn to get properly foxed. He could have gone back to MacQuarrie's, but the man would only try to talk to him, and Ben wasn't in the mood to converse with anyone.
He entered the taproom and found Major Forster at a corner table with a glass of whisky, talking amicably with the townspeople. He should have realized the major would still be there. After years of traveling with his regiment, the man naturally made friends wherever he went.
Ben sighed. The major
was
his father-in-law; perhaps he had some insight into Elspeth. As Ben approached him, the major kicked a chair from beneath the table by bumping it with his boot. Ben sank heavily into it.
"Aren't you supposed to be enjoying dinner with my daughter?" the major asked, pulling out his pocket watch to glance at the time.
"I was. She asked me to take her home. It appears as though my presence makes her physically ill."
The major chuckled and motioned for another whisky for Ben. "You turn her stomach, now, do you?"
"Obviously. She was sick in the bushes as soon as I brought the food out." Ben threw back his whisky and motioned for another.
"You mean she's
truly
sick?" The major's eyebrows shot upward. "I should go check on her."
Ben shook his head. "I stayed until she turned out the light. She's fine."
"I wonder what's wrong. Maybe she ate something bad?"
"She didn't eat a thing. She got sick as soon as I uncovered the food!" he cried out, then rested his chin on the heel of his hand in disgust. "And she cries at the smallest things."
"You made her cry?" the major asked, frowning.
"I didn't mean to," Ben defended himself. "But it didn't seem to matter what I said. I've never seen her so emotional, not even when her grandfather died, and she was plenty upset then."
Recognition dawned in the major's eyes. "I'm a fool not to have seen it earlier."
"Seen what?"
With a toothy grin, the major slid his whisky toward Ben. "Congratulations, pup."
"For turning my wife's stomach?" Ben grumbled and looked down at the amber liquid in front of him.
"I believe you may have made me a grandfather!" The major rose from his seat and cackled all the way out the door.
Ben's mouth fell open. Then he picked up the whisky in front of him and downed it in one gulp.
A child? Dear God! He replayed his last conversation with Elspeth over in his mind, under that context, and winced. If she was with child, it was no wonder she was furious with him.
He was going to be a father! Ben signaled the bar maid that he didn't need the next glass of whisky. If he was going to work this out, he needed a clear head. He
would
find a way to make it work.
Elspeth enchanted a spoon to stir some porridge and then collapsed into a seat at her table and laid her head across her folded arms. She'd slept restlessly all night and this morning wasn't feeling her best.
Her father emerged from his room, whistling an old Scottish lullaby. When he spotted her, he grinned widely. "Morning, lass."
"Ye seem awfully cheerful today," she grumbled.
"Many things to be cheerful about," he replied and dropped into a seat across from her. "How was your dinner with Benjamin?"
Elspeth shook her head, then realized her eyes were watering again. She brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. "It could have gone better."
"I gathered that when I saw him last night. Poor fellow looked as if he'd lost his best friend."
"Ye saw him?" Her gaze shot to her father's.
"Hmm. The taproom at the inn. He seemed intent on getting deep in his cups."
Elspeth snorted and rose from her seat to check on her porridge. Of course he was intent on getting drunk. He didn't love her and felt stuck because of the bairn. She peered down into the pot, but it was too soupy.
She didn't feel like eating anyway. She leaned heavily against the far wall and rubbed her face with both hands. How had she gotten herself into this situation?
"Elspeth," her father's voice caused her to jump and drop her hands.
"Yes?"
"You need to sit down and have a conversation with the lad."
"I wouldna even ken what ta say." She stepp
ed forward and slumped back down in her seat at the table.
His warm brown eyes seemed to twinkle. "I'm sure something will come to mind, dear. You can't go on like this. Both of you are completely miserable."
"Aye," she admitted, but for different reasons. There was no solution that would make them both happy.
A knock sounded at the door, and the major crossed the room to open it. "Benjamin," he said in greeting.
Elspeth couldn't keep her gaze from shooting across the cottage to her husband. His hair seemed to sparkle where the morning sunlight hit him. And he was more handsome than ever, though at the moment his hazel eyes looked angry, as did the stubborn tilt of his jaw.
"Major," he replied tightly. "I'd like a word with my wife."
"Ben," her father began with a placating tone.
But he paid no attention to the major and pushed past him into the cottage. "Ellie, this has gone on quite long enough. At first I let you have space, because I thought you needed it and I felt awful for hurting you. And I am sorry for that."
He continued into the room until he stood before her. "But you're my wife and I've put up with all of this that I intend to. I stayed up all night thinking everything through, and I cannot believe that you thought to keep this from me. Living separately, keeping secrets—it's over. All of it. Do you hear me?"
Anger and hurt coursed through her, and Elspeth raised herself up to her full height. Still, she only reached his shoulders. "Ye willna dictate ta me, Benjamin Westfield. I was runnin' my own life before ye came along, and—"
He hauled her into his arms and kissed her. He pulled her flush against him and took her breath away. She'd nearly forgotten how wonderful it felt to be wrapped in his strength. When she sighed against his mouth, Ben's tongue slipped inside hers, tangling with her own.
His hold on her softened, and his hands caressed her back and stroked her arms. Elspeth pressed herself against him and intertwined her fingers in his hair. Time and place lost all meaning, and only the sound of Ben's breathing echoed in her ears… until her father, clearing his throat, broke through to her senses.
Elspeth pulled back away from Ben and gaped at him. He seemed as affected by the kiss as she had been. "Why did ye do that?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.
"I intend to do it again," he warned her. "Every time you even think of disagreeing with me."
"Then ye'll be doin' it a lot," she mumbled under her breath.
He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "It's been far too long since I kissed you, Ellie. Don't tempt me." He looked over his shoulder at her father and nodded. "Major, a moment, if you don't mind."
He winked at Ben. "Good luck, my boy."
As soon as the major retired to his room, Elspeth glared at her husband. "Why did ye come here, Ben?"
"Because I love you, and if you don't believe it, I'll say it over and over until you do."
"This is about the bairn," she said as she stepped out of his reach and made her way to her old settee.
"This is about us. You. Me. Our family," he called after her. "I was a fool, Elspeth. Do you want me to yell it through the streets of Edinburgh? If it will make you believe me, I'll do so." He followed her to the other side of the room and dropped into a chair across from her.
"Ben, ye doona have ta do all this."
His jaw stiffened. "I'm doing this because I love you. I've never met a more stubborn woman, lass. Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way." He leaned forward in his seat, so close his knees were almost touching hers. "Do you still love
me
, Ellie? Or have I destroyed that, too?"
It hurt to look at him, the emotion on his face, so Elspeth stared at her own hands. "Benjamin, I'll never stop lovin' ye. No matter where ye go or who ye're with."
"There's only you."
She lifted her gaze to him. He seemed so sincere, so concerned. Yet she hated to get her hopes up. Her heart couldn't take being broken again. "What changed?"
"Nothing," he said quietly. "I always loved you, Ellie. I just didn't want to. I didn't want to admit it."
"Why?"
He leaned back in his seat and raked a hand through his hair. "I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't trust myself not to do so. I cannot control the beast within me. Not when it's close to the full moon. I thought if I kept a bit of distance between us, I could keep you safe."
His anguish was apparent and Elspeth's heart ached for him. She could never watch anyone in pain without feeling it herself, but that was especially true with Ben. "I'm safe with ye."
He scoffed and raised his eyes heavenward. "I don't know if you are or not, Ellie. I hurt you once, and I hurt the girl in Brighton. But I can't live without you, I've learned that much. So I'll just have to be diligent. More careful."
Elspeth swiped at the tears that began to trail down her cheeks. "You willna hurt me."
When he heard her voice tremble, Ben lowered his head to look at her. Then he reached his hand out to her. Elspeth moved to his side and he pulled her to his lap. "Oh, love. I've needed you."
"I need ye, too." She allowed herself to nuzzle against him, feeling the first bit of contentment she'd felt in weeks. He still didn't trust himself, but it was a start.
Ben traced a circle on her belly. "You were going to tell me, weren't you?"
"Of course. But I could kill Cait for tellin' ye first."
Ben shook his head, his hazel eyes boring into her.
"She didn't tell me anything, Ellie. The major figured it out last night in the taproom."
Elspeth blinked at him. She'd been certain he knew. "Oh. Well, what do ye think about it?" she asked, afraid of his answer.
His smile warmed her from the inside out. "I do wish the little fellow had waited a bit. I'd like to have you all to myself for a while, but I couldn't be happier, Ellie. And I want this one to be the first of many. I want us to build that sprawling house and fill every room with children."
Elspeth rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. "I suppose ye'll make me hire maids and footmen and a cook and—"
"You can do whatever you want, love. Whatever will make you happy."
"Ye make me happy." She slid her hand inside his waistcoat.
Ben groaned as though in agony. "Unfortunately, the full moon is approaching. It's only a few days away. So I can't be close with you right now." He cupped her chin in his hands and kissed her softly. "Though I want nothing more than to be with you in every way possible."
Elspeth shifted in his lap and felt him hard against her thigh.
"Don't look at me like that, Ellie," he growled as he set her away from him. "I am not sure I can trust myself."
"I'm no' made of glass, Ben. I willna break," she reminded him.
"I won't take that chance, love." He lifted her off his lap and to her feet, where he drew her close to him as his hands skimmed over her body. Finally he groaned and gently pushed away from her. "I'll see you in a few days."
"Must we wait that long? Will we have ta separate when the moon is full for the rest of our lives?"
