by Lydia Dare
Tumshie heids? “What is that?”
“Loosely translated?” she giggled. “Turnip heads.”
“I see. He didn’t want you to be a turnip head?” Ben smiled at her.
“He wanted me ta be better than the others. He never let me feel sorry for myself.”
“He sounds like a wonderful man.”
Elspeth smiled up at him. “He was the best of men. He always pushed me ta do my best.”
“Sounds like my brother.” Simon’s last lecture echoed in his ears.
She stopped walking and faced him. “Ye never speak of yer family.”
Ben shrugged. “There’s nothing much to tell.”
“I doona believe that for a second. Ye come from a family of Lycans, and yer oldest brother is a duke.”
When she put it that way, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose I don’t think of them in those terms. They’re just my family.”
“There are three of ye?”
He nodded and led her deeper into the woods. “Simon is the Duke of Blackmoor, and William is the next in line. I’m off the hook unless they both fail to produce an heir.”
“Is neither one of them married?”
Ben laughed again, finding the image of Simon or Will in front of an altar particularly humorous. When she stared at him, he brought his levity under control. “Sorry, it’s just hard to imagine. You see, Simon is extremely careful where women are concerned. He keeps them from getting too close, lest they discover our secret.”
“And William?” she prodded.
“Is a stubborn mule.”
“What do ye mean by that?”
“There’s a girl back home—Prisca. Her family is our closest neighbor in Hampshire. She has a hoard of brothers, and we all grew up together. Anyway, she and Will… Well, he should have married her long ago. It’s obvious how the two of them feel about each other, but Will walked away from her and never looked back.”
“Why?”
In the distance, Ben could hear a large number of people heading their direction. “I think the funeral is over, Ellie. Are you ready to return?”
She faced him and smiled softly. “Ben, thank ye for everythin’.”
He wished he could do more. Once he got her to London, he’d do everything he could to make her happy. A strand of her hair had come loose from her wolf clips, and he curled it around his finger. “It was nothing.”
“How can ye say that?” she whispered.
“Because,” he began and dipped his head down to hers. “I want to give you everything.”
Then he touched his lips to hers. The rest of the world vanished for a moment, but not nearly long enough.
The rest of the day was a blur to Elspeth. It seemed as if all of Edinburgh had come out for her grandfather’s feast. Neighbors, people she hadn’t seen in ages, and some people she’d never met before. But only Ben kept her interest. He never left her. Whenever she was thirsty, he handed her a drink. If she was hungry, he got her a plate. When she was tired, he made her sit.
Caitrin, Sorcha, Rhiannon, and Blaire watched on from a distance, but they never approached her. Somewhere in the back of Elspeth’s mind she knew that something had changed in her life.
Twenty-two
Once Ben and all the townspeople left, it took less than a minute for the five witches to return the cottage and land to its usual state. After a few simple spells, no one would ever know that half of Scotland had been there moments earlier.
Elspeth collapsed onto her settee, ready to fall asleep as soon as her friends returned to their homes. The four of them had watched her all afternoon but hadn’t really spoken to her, until now.
“Ye ken I doona like him,” Sorcha began.
Elspeth closed her eyes and willed them away. Were they going to have this conversation again? “Please doona start. No’ tonight. Ye can all have a go at me in the mornin’.”
Sorcha flopped down next to her and Elspeth opened her eyes. The girl was frowning. “I was just goin’ ta say I thought he was real nice ta ye today. Real attentive.”
Rhiannon dropped into a chair across from them. “Almost as though he knew what ye needed all day without ye havin’ ta tell him.”
“Ye really are connected,” Blaire added from her spot across the room.
“Aye.” They really were connected, in more ways than her friends could understand.
“Well,” Sorcha added quietly, “if ye do leave us for him, I could understand it.”
“Sorcha!” Caitrin barked from the doorway, arms folded across her chest.
The youngest witch thrust out her chin. “Well, I could, Cait. He’s handsome and rich and—”
“A beast,” the seer reminded them all.
“There is that,” Sorcha replied. “But a wellbehaved one. Did ye no’ see how he took care of El the whole day?”
“Do ye ken what will happen if Elspeth goes with him? Our circle will fall apart. In six hundred years the circle has never been broken.”
“What will happen if we separate?” Sorcha asked quietly. “Will we lose our magic?”
“We canna be certain,” Caitrin said with a pointed look toward Elspeth. “It has never happened.”
“I ken,” Sorcha whispered. “I just wish it wasna that way. It seems like he wants ta make El happy, and I think she deserves that.”
“We all want Elspeth ta be happy. Just with a decent human. Edinburgh is no’ small. There are many men ta choose from.”
Elspeth had heard enough. They could go on like this for hours. When she saw them next, they’d probably still be discussing it. She rose from her seat. “I’m goin’ ta bed. Once ye’ve all sorted out my life, let me ken what ye’ve come up with.”
She awoke early the next morning. It felt a bit strange to be in the cottage all alone, but it was something she would get accustomed to in time.
Ben, Ben, Ben. She’d thought about him all night, even dreamed about him. She supposed she should go through her mother’s old things looking for something Lycan related. How did one go about healing a werewolf who can’t change with the moon?
While an enchanted spoon stirred her oatmeal cooking on the stove, Elspeth removed the rug from the kitchen floor, revealing a hidden door. She hadn’t been in her mother’s space for years, as she preferred to work on her potions aboveground.
She tugged the door up and peered into the darkness beneath her cottage. Shivers raced down her spine. She’d always hated the stale air and freezing room down below. Her mother had loved the quiet and solitude of the dank quarters. She wasn’t afraid of the darkness or the bugs and would sequester herself there for hours at a time, completely engrossed in a new project.
Elspeth tested the top rung of the ladder with her weight. She was surprised when she found it held her with ease. She held a candle aloft and stopped as she descended into the darkness to periodically wipe spider webs from her path. The most stubborn webs clung to her hair and clothing. She fought back revulsion as she pulled the majority of the sticky strands from her hair. When her foot hit the solid earth that was the room’s floor, relief flooded her. She lifted the candle and used it to light tapers on the wall. The room was immediately flooded with light. Much better.
Along one wall, her mother had stacked the bottles used for her potions and healing remedies. Elspeth stepped closer to the far wall, which housed a cabinet of small drawers, each no more than three inches in width. She tugged one of the small drawers open and smiled when her nose was assaulted by the smell of mint. She opened another drawer and oregano tickled her nose.
Elspeth went on to find basil and bay leaves. If she couldn’t conjure a spell with these, her mother could at least make a decent stew. She laughed lightly to herself at the thought.
A long table was in the center of the room. She recognized her grandfather’s handiwork in the piece as she ran a finger longingly across the surface. Atop the table, books were stacked in abandon, some still open to the page her mother had last studied.
She felt a tiny catch in her throat as she saw the spell her mother had been writing. It was a spell that would only be used to call a loved one home.
But who would her mother call? As far as she knew, her mother had never loved any man, aside from her father. Elspeth picked up the piece of foolscap and blew the dust from the surface.
That was when she finally knew. She knew who the man was who’d killed her mother. She’d known all along it was her father. But she’d never seen it written in ink the way it was. The foolscap may as well have been marked with her blood, for her mother had poured her heart out on the page. She had finally taken it upon herself to call to him and ask for him to return. To visit her one last time. Obviously, he hadn’t come. And her mother had finally died of loneliness.
But she’d left one thing behind. The man had a name—a first one, at least—Des. And Elspeth had to find him.
Ben knew it was much too early to pay a visit to Elspeth, but he’d woken several times thinking of her during the night. He hated the idea of her being all alone in that house. He would take a quick run over to her tiny cottage and see if her friends were around. If so, he wouldn’t worry over her.
He jogged through the woods, so intent on his path that he suddenly found himself there and didn’t even remember how he’d arrived. Of course, no one was moving about. He glanced at the shrubbery and said quietly, “If you’re going to attack me, let’s get it over with.”
The shrubbery made no response. No leaves trembled. No vines lengthened or entangled him. Perhaps it was safe. He softly knocked on her door. He waited to hear her call out, or at least hear her footsteps as she crossed the floor. His Lycan hearing allowed him to hear the smallest of footsteps, even the ones made by bare feet. He imagined Elspeth climbing out of bed, her feet bare as she padded toward the door.
But no one answered his knock. He tapped a little louder. There were still no signs from inside. What if something was wrong? What if she was hurt?
Ben turned the door handle and poked his head inside. He glanced around the room and saw nothing amiss. But neither did she appear to him. He walked into the kitchen and saw a spoon stirring a pot of oatmeal. All by itself ? Surely that wasn’t one of her powers. He walked over to the stove and moved the pot from the heat. The spinning spoon immediately stilled. Ben shook his head and called to her again.
He glanced across the kitchen and finally saw the hidden door, which was usually covered by a large rug. The rug had been casually tossed to the side. He stepped to the edge of the hidden door and looked down. And there he finally found her.
“Elspeth?” he called. He could see her there in candlelight, her face glowing as she sat still, thoroughly engrossed in a book in her lap. She didn’t look up.
The rungs creaked only slightly as they bore his weight. When he reached the bottom of the ladder, he jumped softly to the hard-packed earth.
He was before her and pulling the book from her grasp before she even realized he was there.
“Havers, Ben!” she cried, her hand fluttering to land on her heart, which now beat so loud that Ben could hear it. “Ye nearly scared the life out of me.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “What are ye doin’ here?”
“I came to check on you. To be sure you’re all right.” He wiped a smudge of dust from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said and pulled the book back into her lap.
Any other woman would be mortified to be caught in her nightrail by a man. And even more so if she knew what she looked like. Back in London, there were chimney sweeps with less dirt on them than she was wearing.
He reached over and tugged the end of a spider web, untangling the mess from her hair, which looked like orange flames in the light of the candle.
“Thank ye,” she mumbled. She barely glanced up at him.
“What is this place?” he asked as he took in the sights and scents around him.
Without looking up from her book, she mumbled, “My mother’s secret room.”
“I can see why she kept it a secret,” Ben said quietly. She didn’t turn and look at him. He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s filthy.”
“Filthy, aye,” she murmured, but still didn’t raise her head.
“Elspeth, the trees have come alive, and they tried to kill me on my way to your house.” Something had to get her attention.
“That’s good, Ben,” she said quietly as she turned the page.
“I want to make love to you,” he said, unable to bite back the small smile and pleasant thoughts that came with that statement. Perhaps he could shock her out of her trance.
“Aye,” she nodded.
“Did you say ‘aye’?” he cried.
“Mmm… hmm.” She nodded. “Whatever ye say.”
Ben blew out a frustrated breath as he paced behind her. Then he had an idea. He unbuttoned his trousers and rubbed his fingertips lightly across his birthmark.
“Oh,” she cried as she jumped up. The book fell from her hands and thunked to the floor.
“Finally I have your attention,” he said as he leaned against a cabinet.
“Doona do that ta me, Ben.” Her green eyes flashed in anger. She shook her first finger at him. “That wasna fair.”
He chuckled at the look of indignation on her face. “I gave you fair warning, Elspeth.”
She bent and picked up the book. “I’m sorry. I was readin’ my mother’s journal.”
“Anything interesting?”
A spark of pain lit in her eye and then quickly died. “Very much that’s interestin’. She wrote about my father.” She sighed long and loud. Then drew in a deep breath. “Ben, can I ask ye for a favor?”
He stepped closer to her and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “You can ask me for anything.”
“Can ye take me ta London?”
That came out of nowhere. “I said I would, but what’s so urgent?”
“I need ta find my father. Ye said yer major could help me.”
Ben nodded. He’d been trying to get her to London, away from the others, anyway. What a stroke of luck to have her change her mind to leave sooner. “I believe he can.”
“Good, because I’m goin’ ta kill him once I find him.”
Twenty-three
Elspeth was mortified by what she’d said, and more so by the look of utter shock on Ben’s face. Still, she wouldn’t take the words back. She was a healer, and she’d never wanted to hurt anyone—except for “Des,” whoever the devil he was. Perhaps the loss of a limb would suffice. She scratched her head as she considered her options.
For years she’d heard her grandfather lament the fact that her father had killed her mother. She’d never been sure what he meant by that, since she’d never laid eyes on the man, and her mother had only died five years ago. But now, having read pages and pages of her mother’s words, she knew exactly what her grandfather meant. She remembered the day. Elspeth had been sick, so sick that she’d nearly died. She’d been told later that her mother had tried every remedy known to her. And nothing worked. So, in desperation, she’d reached out to El’s father for support.
It had taken every bit of power she had, her entire essence, just to reach out to him. And still he hadn’t come. The additional stress on her body had weakened her and left her unable to fight when she caught the same illness Elspeth had. It was all because of him. She had called to him, but he hadn’t come. He’d put her in the ground, just as sure as if he’d plunged a knife into her heart.
“I must have misheard you,” Ben said smoothly.
“Ye heard me correctly. When I find my father, I’m goin’ ta kill him.”
“You’re a healer, Elspeth,” he reminded her.
She closed her eyes. It went against everything in her soul to do harm, but how could she let him live peacefully after everything he’d done? “I’ll make an exception in his case.”
Then she felt Ben’s warm fingers brush her cheek, and her eyes rose to meet his. “I
don’t think you mean that, Ellie. There’s not a cruel bone in your body.”
She hadn’t realized how cold she was in her mother’s room, but his touch warmed her in an instant. “I canna just let him roam around out there. No’ after what he did ta her.” Not after what he did to me.
“Are you sure he’s even alive?” Ben asked softly.
Elspeth felt the air whoosh out of her. She hadn’t considered that. What if he was dead? It would explain why the summoning spell hadn’t worked. “I suppose ye have a point. But I need ta find out, Ben. One way or the other.”
He flashed her a smile. “We’ll find him, one way or another.” Then he winked at her. “But you’ve got to promise me not to kill him, if he is alive.”
It should be an easy promise to make. She knew she could never go through with it, no matter how badly he deserved it or how badly she wished she could. Feeling bitter, she simply shrugged.
“Now, I mean it, Elspeth. I won’t have you getting yourself into trouble. As Blackmoor’s brother I hold a little clout, but not enough to get authorities to ignore murder charges. That sort of thing is frowned upon in England, you know.”
Elspeth heaved a sigh. “All right, I won’t kill him.” But she wouldn’t promise not to maim him. Perhaps she should bring the others with her, as Sorcha’s, Blaire’s, and Rhiannon’s powers could do a bit more damage than hers ever could.
Ben’s fingers drifted to her neck and he stroked her gently. “What a relief. I’d hate to see this beautiful neck stretched on the gallows. It would be such a waste.”
She frowned at him. “Ye make it very difficult for me ta stay in a foul mood, ye ken?”
His smile brightened the dismal room. “Ah, my sweet little witch, you shouldn’t have told me that. I’ll hold all sorts of power over you now.” His fingers moved lower over her shoulder and down her arm, spreading a tingling warmth all the way to her fingertips. “When do you want to leave? Today?”
He was the kindest man she’d even known, completely ignoring his own ailment. She was embarrassed to realize that she had ignored it as well, and now she knew how to fix him. “Oh, Ben, I’m sorry. I was bein’ a bit selfish. I do have wonderful news for ye.”