by Lydia Dare
Before she could respond, Caitrin cast him an irritated glare. “Alec MacQuarrie, have ye taken ta followin’ me now? And pesterin’ my friends ta help with yer suit?”
“Miss Macleod,” he pressed, stepping around Elspeth. “You can’t fault me for wanting to bask in your presence, can you?”
“I see no future for us, Mr. MacQuarrie.”
Elspeth had to smother her laugh. Alec MacQuarrie would never get around that objection. Poor fellow just didn’t know it.
Undeterred, Mr. MacQuarrie clasped Caitrin’s hands. “Let me escort you somewhere. Anywhere. If I can’t turn your head, I’ll leave you be.”
Caitrin’s frown darkened.
“Give me at least a chance.”
“And then ye’ll leave me be? No more followin’ me in ta dress shops or ta the park or—”
“You have my word as a gentleman.”
Elspeth turned away from the pair and smiled at the shop girl. “I doona suppose the muslin I ordered has come in?”
The young girl nodded, apparently relieved not to bear witness to Caitrin and Mr. MacQuarrie’s exchange any longer. “Just this mornin’, Miss Campbell. Would ye like me ta package it up for ye?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank ye.”
Elspeth turned around to see Alec MacQuarrie escape back on to Queen Street. She glanced at Caitrin. “So?”
Her friend shrugged. “So I told him he could take me ta Sorcha’s ball. That should put an end ta it.”
“But that’s a fortnight away. Ye doona want ta dispense with him earlier than that?”
A beautiful smile lit Caitrin’s face. “He is rather handsome. And I’d prefer no’ ta attend the Fergusons’ ball without an escort.”
“I see.” More likely Caitrin didn’t want to have to face Wallace Ferguson all alone. In addition to the gift of second sight, Caitrin Macleod had been gifted with the body and face of an angel, which most men found positively alluring. It was one thing to rebuff the attentions of Alec MacQuarrie, but more difficult to do so with the brother of one of her sister witches.
“Ye can wipe that smug look off yer face, Elspeth Campbell, I ken what ye’re thinkin’. I’m no’ afraid ta face Wallace Ferguson.”
“Of course no’.”
Her friend heaved a sigh. “We were talkin’ about yer father before MacQuarrie stumbled upon us.”
“So we were. But I believe we’ve finished that conversation.”
The shop girl stepped back into the room with a brown wrapped package. “Here ye are, Miss Campbell.”
“Thank ye,” Elspeth replied and handed the girl a coin for her troubles. Then she turned to leave the store with Caitrin right on her heels.
“Just promise ye’ll be careful.”
Elspeth grinned her most charming smile. “I am always careful.”
“Ha!” Caitrin replied, though Elspeth could barely hear her over the sounds of passing carriages.
Ben crept down the stairs of his rented townhouse. He felt like the biggest of fools, sneaking from his own rooms. But he hoped he could escape London, find the healer in Edinburgh that Major Forster mentioned, and return without either of his brothers being the wiser. It was a ridiculous plan. One or both of them were certain to miss him for the month or longer the entire journey would most likely take.
A healer!
He’d gone and lost his bloody mind.
“Ah, there you are,” came a booming voice behind
him. Ben cringed before turning around to face his brother Lord William Westfield.
“Morning, Will.”
His brother’s icy blue eyes raked across Ben and his portmanteau, and he had to keep himself from reacting.
“Going somewhere?”
“Uh,” Ben began, searching for the right words. “Just an impromptu trip up north.”
“An impromptu trip up north?” Will echoed. “That sounds rather nondescript.”
Damn his irritating brother. Ben shrugged, hoping he projected the carefree man he’d been a sennight ago. “Just visiting a friend. Nothing much to tell.”
Will leaned his large frame against the doorway leading to a parlor. “A female friend?”
The last bit of Ben’s patience evaporated. “God damn it, Will! What are you after?” When a look of surprise flashed in his brother’s eyes, a prickling of guilt washed over Ben. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”
That at least was the truth. He kept hearing Major Forster’s words about witches and healers every time he closed his eyes. It was no wonder he was jumpy this morning.
“You feeling all right?”
Ben nodded. “I, uh, got word from Alec MacQuarrie in Edinburgh. He’s been bored out of his mind and asked me to visit.” Thankfully he knew someone up north to pull off this ruse, at least temporarily. He hoped MacQuarrie was still in Scotland. It had been a month or two since he’d last heard from his old friend, which was unusual. Something must have captured his attention.
“Oh.” Will frowned. “Well, I suppose, considering
what happened in Brighton, it’s not such a bad idea for you to change your scenery for a while.”
Ben closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about the incident in Brighton, and he hated that both his brothers knew about it. He hated that everyone seemed to know about it. “Well, there you are. If the inquisition is over, I’d like to start my journey.”
Will pushed himself away from the door frame and smiled. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay here? I’m supposed to meet Simon for lunch today.”
All he needed was for both of his brothers to hover and watch his every move. The image sealed his resolve to find the fabled healer the major spoke of, as ridiculous as it sounded. Ben shook his head. “And leave poor MacQuarrie to his own devices? I wouldn’t be much of a friend to desert him in his time of need.”
Will laughed. “Very well. Travel safe, will you?”
“I always do.”
Three
After traveling the North Road for nearly a fortnight, Ben was relieved when the city of Edinburgh finally came into view from his coach window. He’d sent a note to Alec, inviting himself to stay with his old Cambridge pal at his home, and he hoped his friend had received the missive. He would hate to show up unannounced.
However, Alec had dropped in on him in London more times than he could count. So he felt that turnabout was fair play. In fact, the last time Alec had paid him a visit, he’d left Ben in quite a mess. He could still hear the clipped tones of Simon’s voice, which spoke of his disappointment in his youngest sibling.
Being the youngest was difficult. For Ben, it meant he was never fully alone. His two older siblings constantly watched everything he did. Simon, the Duke of Blackmoor, did so in a fatherly fashion. A very strict father, who lived by a certain moral code. And Will, the middle brother, had stood back and watched Ben make a fool of himself on more than one occasion. Then he swooped out of nowhere, laughed like he’d done when they’d both been in short pants, and dusted him off. Then he stood back and let him do it all over again.
This time Ben was bound and determined to solve his little problem himself. It really wasn’t a little problem, though. Not being able to change with the fullness of the moon was a huge problem for someone like him. It threw his whole life out of kilter.
And that was exactly how he felt when he stopped at the home of his oldest and dearest friend, Alec. Out of kilter. The coach pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, and Ben took a deep breath before he reached for the handle. He could do this. He could be his normal happy-go-lucky self, find the fabled witch who could heal him, and go home. Or he would do the opposite and prove the witch didn’t exist. Either way, he’d had an opportunity to escape London in the wake of his recent scandal. And that alone was worth the trip.
Ben stretched his legs when he stepped out of the coach; they had never made those things big enough for men like him. The butler met him at the door, took his hat, and left him waiting in the par
lor while he went to find Alec. Ben heard the stomp of booted feet as someone moved at a hurried pace down the corridor. At least Ben hadn’t lost his keen sense of hearing when he’d lost his beastliness.
Ben was surprised to see that Alec was dressed in his best evening clothes. In fact, his friend wore a devil-may-care grin that made him look like quite a rake. It was a reputation well earned, much of which they’d cultivated together.
“Benjamin Westfield, is that you?” Alec said as he turned the corner. “I thought your letter said you’d be a few more days, my friend.” He held out a hand to Ben.
“So you did receive my note?” Ben asked, extending his hand to shake. “I’m quite glad. I was afraid it wouldn’t reach you and I would arrive without warning.”
“I believe I did that to you last time I visited London, so that would have been just fine as well. Come, come,” he said, motioning toward his study. “I have a bottle of whisky you can help me sample.”
“You know, you didn’t have to get quite so dressed up for my arrival,” Ben joked as he accepted a glass of amber liquid and settled into a comfortable chair.
“I wish I could say this was for you.” Alec smiled. “Alas, this is for a lady.”
“Just as I thought. You’ve planned a night of debauchery and drinking, I assume.” He crossed one foot over his knee.
Alec colored slightly. “Actually, no. I have planned a night of dancing, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get a walk in the garden while I hold the girl’s hand.”
“That kind of a girl, is she?” Ben was shocked. His friend had never looked quite so discomfited to discuss a member of the opposite sex.
“That kind, aye,” Alec admitted. “The kind I’m not quite sure what to do with.”
“I feel sure that you’ll come up with something. Where are you going?”
“The Fergusons are hosting a ball.” He pulled his pocket watch from his breast pocket by the chain and flipped it open. “I have an hour yet before I’m to arrive at Miss Macleod’s.”
Ben grimaced. “Please tell me you’re not a man besotted. I don’t know what I would do with myself if my best friend shackled himself with a wife.” He shivered dramatically.
“Not besotted. Just a bit intrigued. She wants nothing to do with me.” Alec frowned into his whisky glass.
“Oh,” Ben laughed loudly. So loudly and so long that he clutched his stomach. “A woman who won’t give you the time of day. What a novelty!”
“It has never happened to me before, I must admit. But I do so love a challenge. Speaking of which, you should come along. The Fergusons won’t mind if I bring one more, especially the brother of a duke. In fact, I am to escort a friend of Miss Macleod’s as well. You can ride along and accompany her.”
“When did two women become too much for you, Alec?”
The man looked shocked. “Never. I just didn’t want you to feel all alone.” Alec frowned. “There’s a bit of scandal attached to Miss Macleod’s friend, however. I hope that’s not a problem for you.”
“What kind of scandal?” Ben was suddenly intrigued.
“A circumstance of her birth, unfortunately,” Alec sighed. “She is a bit illegitimate.”
“One can’t be a bit illegitimate, my friend. She either is or she isn’t.”
“Well, then she is. But she’s a splendid woman. Fiery red hair. Beautiful eyes.”
“All the women in these parts have red hair, don’t they?” Ben threw back the last of his whisky.
“It’s not quite fair to lump all Scottish women into one basket, Westfield. Miss Campbell is a very nice woman,” Alec admitted.
“Campbell, did you say?” Ben instantly sat forward.
“Aye. Miss Elspeth Campbell.”
How many people in Edinburgh wore the surname of Campbell? Probably hundreds. Surely this one couldn’t be related to the old witch he sought. That would seem much too easy. And nothing had ever been easy for Ben Westfield before. Why should it start now?
“I’m wearing a fortnight’s worth of trail dust, but if you can lead me to a bath, I assume I could make myself presentable.”
“I’m afraid I’ve nothing to offer you to wear, so I hope you have appropriate clothing. You’re much too big to wear anything of mine.”
“I think I brought something that will fit the occasion.”
“Just don’t outdress me, old friend,” Alec smiled. “I plan to turn Miss Macleod’s head in my direction.”
Ben could honestly say that for once he was much more interested in meeting his own companion than trying to steal one out from under his old friend.
“I do so hate to be a tagalong,” Elspeth grumbled as she bustled about the busy bedroom. She turned to allow the maid to tie the laces of her gown.
“Ye canna be called a tagalong,” Caitrin said. “I need ye. Ye have ta attend the ball, even if I have ta drag ye, kickin’ and screamin’.”
“Doona tempt me,” Elspeth retorted as she settled into a chair and allowed the maid to brush through her long hair. She remarked to the woman, “No matter how ye pin it, it’ll all be down around my shoulders within minutes. It seems ta have a life of its own.”
The maid turned to pick up hairpins from the table.
“Oh, no.” Elspeth stopped her and passed her the two combs that belonged to her mother. “I willna go without these.”
“Then that’s probably why yer hair is always so out of control,” Caitrin replied absently. “Allow Jeannie ta do it up properly, will ye?”
“Certainly I will. With these combs,” she said as she pressed them into the maid’s outstretched hands. Elspeth smiled at Caitrin, who scowled from across the room. “Nothin’ about me has ever been proper. I doona ken why I would start with my hair.”
“I think yer definition of ‘proper’ is quite skewed. Ye’re proper enough for us.”
Elspeth knew she meant the other members of the coven. But they had no choice but to accept her. They didn’t have the privilege of choosing the members. They were born into it. Elspeth had inherited her gift of healing from her mother. Just as Caitrin had inherited her visions of the future from her mother.
“Aye, I ken, ye love me,” Elspeth grumbled. “Ye really just want ta keep me between ye and Alec MacQuarrie.”
Caitrin laughed. “I need to use ye like a windbreak, in case of an emergency.”
“Happy ta be of service.”
Once the maid had Elspeth’s hair pinned atop her head, she stood and shook her gown. “I’m afraid I willna have time ta hem my gown before we leave. It’s a bit long.”
“I told ye that ye could wear somethin’ of mine. But ye refused.”
“I think my gown is passable.”
“All in the village ken ye’ve a gift with a needle, Elspeth. Yer gown will be one of the best at the ball, even if it is a bit long.”
“I’ll just have ta work ta keep from steppin’ on it.”
“Ye’ll do just fine,” Caitrin remarked absently as she nodded to the maid, who announced, “The gentlemen have arrived.”
Caitrin and Elspeth glanced at each other. “Gentlemen?” they both asked at once.
Caitrin colored slightly. “I did ask Mr. MacQuarrie ta see if he could find an escort for ye.” When Elspeth opened her mouth to complain, Cait replied quickly with, “Ye can forgive me later.”
Then she walked past Elspeth and out the door, leaving El no choice but to follow in her wake.
The two women stopped side by side at the top of the grand staircase, which led to the foyer. They stopped and looked down at the men who stood talking casually at the bottom of the stairs, completely unaware of their presence.
“Oh, my,” Caitrin breathed. “He’s quite somethin’, isna he?”
“Somethin’?” Elspeth whispered back. “He’s beautiful.” And much more. She gaped at the stranger with Mr. MacQuarrie. She’d never seen a man quite so tall. His evening jacket fit snuggly against the wide expanse of his shoulders. Light brown hair, a bit too long,
touched the top of his collar. But it was the intensity of his eyes that caught her attention, a light color she couldn’t quite make out from the distance.
Then she took a tentative step. Yet she was so enthralled by the man standing at the bottom of the staircase she forgot to lift the edge of her gown. Her foot caught in the material and she stumbled. She was able to do no more than flail her arms in the air and close her eyes tightly before she braced herself for the blow.
But no sooner did she stumble than she felt strong arms catch her in the air. She came to an immediate stop, safely and well caught within the grasp of the handsome stranger. How had he moved so fast?
Elspeth opened her eyes slowly and met the smile of the man who now clutched her so close. One hand was wrapped around her waist and the other pressed against her bottom. She gasped, far more discomfited by that hand than she had been by the fall in the first place.
The man spoke, a laugh coating his words. “‘Beautiful,’ you say?” he asked quietly.
Four
Of course he’d heard her. He had heard the footsteps down the corridor and smelled the beautiful scent of her long before she graced the top of the stairs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that another woman stood near. But he couldn’t draw his eyes from the flame-haired beauty long enough to take the other in.
Then she nearly threw herself into his arms, right after she called him beautiful. It was times like this that he loved his beastliness. His heightened sense of smell and hearing had served him well in the past. And they served him well now. Well enough that he had a fiery redhead tucked in his arms, and he’d only just arrived in Edinburgh. And she thought he was beautiful.
“I-I,” she stuttered. “Ye can let me go, sir.”
The melodic lilt of her voice made Ben’s mouth go dry. But she was gazing at him with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, and he somehow found the strength to gently put her down. “Are you all right, miss?”
She blinked at him. “Ye’re Sassenach?”
The derogatory term for English slipped easily from her lips. Oh, the Scots would never admit the word was derogatory, but it was the way they said it that gave them away. Ben grinned at her. Being English was the least of his sins. “My family has land in Dumfriesshire, if that makes the circumstances of my nationality more palatable for you.”