by Lydia Dare
“He gave me his blessing but said Caitrin herself would have to accept me.”
Understanding dawned on Ben. “She won’t give you the time of day.” She was too busy interrupting Ben’s affairs.
Alec grinned, but only for a moment. “Well, I did win a kiss from her last night, quite a nice one actually; but she’s a stubborn lass, and I’m not quite sure how to convince her.”
“Quite a nice one? Please don’t tell me that you saw sparks when your lips touched hers. Because that would quite turn my stomach, old friend.” Ben lay back on the bed and put his forearm over his eyes. He raised his head when Alec groaned and swatted him again. “Seduce her, MacQuarrie,” he finally said.
“Seduce her?” The man looked slightly ill.
“You’ve done it before. This time, do it with marriage in mind.”
“Seduce her. I might just give that a try,” Alec muttered as he stepped from the room and closed the door. Then he opened the door again. Ben didn’t bother to raise his head.
“Don’t go and get similar ideas about Miss Campbell, Ben. Mark my words. Seducing that one is not in her best interest. Or yours.” The door clicked shut.
Ben turned his head in his pillow and closed his eyes while he worked to get a girl with hair the color of fire and fury off his mind. But even in repose she met him in his dreams.
Elspeth dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “I canna take one more day of this, Rhiannon. No’ one more day. If another person comes ta the door with well wishes, I might just lose my temper.”
“I honestly dinna ken ye had so many friends, El. It’s pretty nice ta see them all comin’ together for ye.”
El pushed the corners of her mouth up and glared at Rhiannon. “But my face is goin’ ta freeze like this if I have ta smile at one more person.”
“Only one more day. The burial will be tomorrow and then ye can start fresh.”
Only one more day. Elspeth repeated the phrase over and over in her mind.
“Uh-oh,” Rhiannon said as she removed her feet from the settee where she reclined. She crossed quickly to the window. “Ye’ve company, El.”
Elspeth rose and raised the drapes to peer out. She quickly threw open the door when she saw the man approaching. He met her with a smile.
“Lord Benjamin,” she said.
His eyes twinkled. “I thought I gave you leave to use my given name, Miss Campbell.”
The door opened farther and Rhiannon spoke over her. “‘Tis no’ proper, and ye ken it,” she whispered vehemently.
“Shush yer mouth, Rhiannon. His lordship is here to see me. No’ ye.” She very nearly stuck out her tongue. “Stay with my grandfather, will ye?” Then she turned and closed the door behind her. “What can I do for ye, Ben?”
“To be quite honest, I wanted to see if you have any ideas for how to heal my little…” He grimaced. “Affliction.”
“I do have quite a few questions on the topic. I suppose I could take a walk with ye.” She looked over her shoulder and saw Rhiannon staring daggers at her from behind the window glass. This time she did stick out her tongue. Ben chuckled at her.
“Lead the way, and I will follow.” He motioned toward the lane.
“No’ that way,” she said, motioning over her shoulder. “The best views can be found in the other direction.”
As they started down a well-worn path, Elspeth began her line of questioning.
“How long have ye been a Lycan, Ben?”
“Since birth, Elspeth. It’s a family trait, passed from one male to another. One cannot choose to be Lycan or not. It just is. I find that I miss it quite a bit, now that I no longer have it.”
“Did ye lose it because of illness? Were ye sick? Or did ye suddenly just lose the ability ta change?”
“There was an incident,” he said as he glanced at her out the corner of his eye.
“What sort of incident?”
“The sort that I can’t explain to a woman of your standing.” Color crept up his face.
“Beggin’ yer pardon? Ye canna tell someone who’s illegitimate about yer incident?”
“Oh, no, no!” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I truly don’t care if you had one parent or two. You could be born of a gypsy tribe and I wouldn’t feel differently about you.”
“Just how do ye feel about me, Ben?”
Fourteen
How did he feel about her? Good question. It was one thing he needed to think about. She was more of a distraction than any woman he’d met in quite some time. She was the only woman he still thought about when he walked away from her. But he couldn’t possibly tell her that. Because very soon he would be on his way back to London.
“I have great trust in your ability to heal me.” He hoped she didn’t realize what effort it took to hedge around her question.
“Then ye have more trust than I do, Ben. Because I’ve no idea if I can help ye or no’. Why did ye come all the way ta Scotland ta find help? There are no healers in London?”
“There are doctors, yes.” He nodded his head as he absently plucked a piece of tall, dry grass and rolled it between his fingertips. No mythical healers, however. No one like her.
“But no one ye could tell about yer Lycan side, I assume?” She raised her face to his. Her hair shone like fire, and he wanted nothing more than to put his hands in it. He coughed to cover his moment of discomfort.
“It’s a bit difficult to talk about,” he admitted. And it was forbidden. “If any of my Lycan brethren knew I’d revealed any of this to you, they would feel terribly betrayed.”
“No’ ta fear, Ben. I can keep a secret when it’s needed.” Her smile was all the reassurance he needed. “May I see yer mark?” she asked.
“The mark of the beast?”
“Aye, the mark of the beast. I’m simply curious.” She shrugged her shoulders and suddenly looked vulnerable.
Ben looked around. The area was secluded. No one would see, and there wasn’t anywhere else they could be alone. One of her coven or another was always there, sitting watch.
He tugged his shirt from his trousers and slid the top button of his waistband through its buttonhole.
She gasped slightly, her hand fluttered to her pinkened cheek. There was no doubt in his mind she was an innocent.
Ben took her hand in his and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I don’t have to show you.”
Elspeth shook her head. “I forgot ye said ye’d have ta remove yer clothes.”
Ben chuckled. “Not completely.” He lifted his shirt and pointed to a spot just below his waistband. “It’s here.”
Elspeth leaned over to get closer to the mark. He immediately felt the warm touch of her breath against the tender skin of his abdomen and stepped away from her.
“I canna see it if ye move, Ben.”
“This might not be such a good idea,” he said, fully prepared to tuck his shirt back in, just so she would step back. He was already hardening under her gaze.
Elspeth dropped to her knees in front of him and tugged off one of her gloves. “Doona be so daft, Ben. It’s a strip of skin and nothin’ more.”
But it was quite a bit more than a strip of skin. And if he didn’t take her attention from the area, it would soon be even more.
She smoothed the pad of her thumb across his birthmark. “Heavens, ye are warm.”
“It’s a trait,” he grumbled. And getting warmer every second.
“Hmm.” Her finger caressed him. “It’s no’ so much, is it? Small thing, it is.”
Ben felt the tender swipe of her thumb all the way to his core. He instantly felt the beast in him rise to the surface. He turned from her to face in the opposite direction.
Her delicate hand came to rest on his back. It was hot enough to brand his skin through his clothes.
“I have a fear greater than that of losing my ability to change with the moon. And it’s that I’ll hurt you, Elspeth.” He wanted to drag her beneath him and toss her skirts
up. He wanted to be inside her. And he wanted it right at that moment.
“Why?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed as they searched his face.
“Regrettably,” he started, trying to remove the growl from his voice, but failing miserably. “I must go.” Ben turned to jog away, but her hand on his arm stopped him. “Let me go, Elspeth,” he barked.
“And if I do no’? Then what will ye do, Ben?”
If her coven sisters could have seen her at that moment, they would have told her she was playing with fire. Yet she couldn’t have walked away if she had wanted to.
Elspeth raised her hand to Ben’s cheek. He immediately turned into it and nipped the center of her palm with his teeth.
“Ye do have a bit of the beast in ye, I’d wager,” she said, feeling a tickle as it crawled up her spine.
“More than a bit, lass,” he growled as his hand cupped her neck and pulled her to him. “When you touched my mark, I felt like I would shift into a wolf right here and now.”
“Is it gettin’ better, then?” She raised her hands to his chest.
“Not yet,” he breathed as his lips hovered over hers. His exhale became her inhale.
“I like the beast,” she said as her hand slipped down to his waistband. She felt an intense desire to stroke his mark again.
“Don’t touch me there, lass,” he said as he took her hands in his and raised them to his mouth. He nipped the pad of her finger between his teeth. “I’m already close enough to taking you now.”
“Takin’ me?” she asked.
“Taking you beneath me,” he breathed. “Taking your clothes off. Taking your innocence.” Moisture flooded her center as he said the last.
“And if I said yes, Ben?”
His hands fell to his waist and he took a step back from her, a strange look in his eyes.
“I’ll assume that’s a no,” she mumbled as her eyes dropped to the path. She hadn’t thought he’d reject her.
“What the devil?” he hissed.
Elspeth raised her eyes, this time taking his whole body in. His polished boots were wrapped in vines, anchoring him solidly to the forest floor. His wrists were bound in a similar fashion.
“Sorcha Ferguson!” Elspeth cried. “Call off yer vines. The man was only goin’ ta kiss me!”
Sorcha stepped into view, an unrepentant tilt to her head. “He wanted much more than that, El.”
Ben had never known ivy to be so strong. It was nearly impossible for him to move, and he was stronger than most. The vines tightened around his wrists, holding him, cutting into his skin. He felt the growl building in his chest as the wolf in him chafed at being held captive. He tamped down the rage and faced the little chit who’d done this to him.
Apparently he’d stumbled upon Sorcha Ferguson’s power. He’d never heard of one using botanical manipulation as a weapon before, and he was a little surprised that the lass had used her ability in front of him. Wasn’t she afraid of exposing the coven?
Elspeth closed the distance between them and tugged on one of the vines binding his wrists. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Then she turned her gaze to the young dark-haired witch. “Ye ken the rules, Sorcha.”
The girl shrugged. “Cait said the rules doona apply ta him.”
“What are ye talkin’ about?” Elspeth’s gaze danced from person to person.
“He’s no’ a real man. If he says anythin’ about us, we’ll tell everyone what he is.”
Ben gasped. “You told them?” She’d just finished promising him that she could keep a secret.
Elspeth looked back at Ben, worry on her lovely face. “No, I swear no’. Though I suppose I do owe ye an explanation.”
He would have gestured for her to continue, but he still couldn’t move his arms. “I’m waiting.”
She bit her bottom lip and took a step away from him. “Sorcha, if ye doona release him, I’ll take an ax and hack them away from him.”
In the next instant, Ben felt the vines loosen then fall away from his arms and legs. He stepped away from the ivy, toward Elspeth. “An explanation,” he reminded her, though he had a fairly good idea what she would say.
She sighed deeply and flushed red. “Sorcha, a moment if ye doona mind.”
The dark-haired lass shook her head. “I’ll no’ leave ye alone with the likes of him.”
Elspeth raised herself high and glared at the younger witch. “It’s no’ yer decision. Now, be off.”
After one more pointed glare in his direction, the girl vanished back into the foliage. Ben rubbed his wrists. Damn if they weren’t sore. “The chit can make vines do her bidding?”
Elspeth’s eyes fell to his feet, and she winced. “I had hoped I wouldna have ta tell ye this, Ben. I’m no’ just a healer who works with herbs.”
“You’re a witch,” he finished for her.
Her gaze shot to his. “How do ye ken that?”
Fifteen
Elspeth was certain her face was aflame. How did the man know she was a witch? Other than the fact that Sorcha had just used her vines to tie him up?
It was something no one spoke of outside of the Còig—well, other than within their families. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago that witch hunts in Scotland had decimated the population, though not everyone put to death had been guilty of the crime. Still, generation after generation had protected the members of the coven. Yet Benjamin Westfield somehow knew she was a witch?
He took a step toward her. “That’s why I was looking for Rosewyth. She wasn’t just a healer; she was a witch with mystical healing powers. The only one who could help me.”
Elspeth felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. “Ye knew this the entire time, and ye dinna say anythin’?”
“What was there to say, lass? Besides I didn’t know until I realized you were Rosewyth’s daughter that you’d inherited her abilities.”
She frowned at him. How could he possibly have deduced that?
Ben looked away and shrugged. “And… I might have overheard Miss Macleod talking about a vision. She’s a seer, isn’t she?”
Elspeth stumbled back a bit. He knew about all of them? “How…?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I have excellent hearing. It’s another Lycan trait. Though…” His smile faded as if he’d just sorted something out.
“Though what?”
He shook his head and began to pace in circles. Elspeth thought he would never answer her. So she asked again, “What are ye no’ tellin’ me, Ben?”
“You first,” he hedged. “The others… What sort of powers do they have? Miss Ferguson, I gather, is in touch with botanical arts of some sort.”
Elspeth had never discussed what powers the others had with outsiders. But Sorcha had revealed herself. “She does have a bit of a green thumb,” she admitted. “Sometimes she talks ta the plants. They do her biddin’. It’s always come in handy durin’ the harvest season.”
“And the others?” he prompted.
Rhiannon and Blaire hadn’t done anything that warranted her revealing information about them. She shrugged.
“It’s no secret that your friends, the members of your coven, don’t care for me, Elspeth. I’d just like to know what I’m up against.”
She rushed forward. “Ben, they would never hurt ye. Please believe me.”
He offered his arms as evidence otherwise, revealing where Sorcha’s vines had cut into his skin. “Normally my body would heal itself. But I seem to have lost that talent when I lost the ability to change.”
Elspeth’s breath caught in her throat. She tore off her second glove and placed one hand on each of his wrists. She closed her eyes and visualized him whole and hale until she felt the power leave her fingertips and fuse with him.
When she opened her eyes, she found his hazel ones boring into her.
“You have the mark, Elspeth.” His voice sounded strangled.
She glanced down where her hands still grasped his wrists. Her moon-shaped ma
rk seemed to glow red in the light. She dropped her hold on him, as though she’d been burned.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Why didn’t she tell him? Speaking about her sire wasn’t something she ever did. Neither had her mother. “I dinna think it mattered.”
“Ah,” he said with a frown, “but you were terribly interested in mine. What else are you keeping from me, Elspeth?”
She shook her head. “I dinna realize I owed ye an explanation about anythin’ else, Ben. Ye’re the one who sought me out.”
He stomped away from her. “When you’re ready to be honest with me, I’ll be at MacQuarrie’s.”
Ben had to get away from her. His mind was a mess. He hadn’t realized that his Lycan abilities only seemed to work when he was with her. He’d heard her call him beautiful at the Macleods’. He’d been able to sniff out the hair combs only because he was following her scent. He’d felt the change come over him only because of her touch to his skin. He hadn’t experienced his normal abilities at Alec’s. He hadn’t experienced them his entire time in Scotland. Only with her.
What did that mean?
Would she have to be present during the moonful for him to transform?
He couldn’t do that. It was too dangerous. He’d never put her at risk like that. Simon’s voice echoed a warning in his mind.
There had to be another way. Some spell she could cast on him. Some potion she could make him drink. Something that wouldn’t place her in peril.
And the mark? Why hadn’t she told him her father was a Lycan? She had to know it. Why else did she want to see his mark? A lucky guess. He snorted as he tore through the woods. What a fool he was to have believed her.
Ben stomped up the steps of Alec’s home. Before he could even toss his hat to the waiting butler, his friend was ready to interrogate him.
“Where have you been?” Alec snapped.
“Out,” Ben said, his gaze meeting his friend’s. Alec may be a bit smaller than him, but they’d had more than one altercation through the years. He was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry.
“Please don’t tell me that you have taken to bothering Elspeth Campbell.” He arched one eyebrow.