by Lydia Dare
The chit had the good sense to stare at her hands. “That was Blaire’s idea, and at the time, I thought ye were bad for her.”
Ben wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He glanced back down at Elspeth, but there was no change in her pallor. He didn’t know what he would do if she didn’t wake up.
He felt Sorcha’s eyes on him and looked across the coach at her. She brushed a tear from her cheek. “She’s the sweetest person I ken.”
She was the sweetest person Ben knew, too. “How did this happen?” he asked, not sure if she had the answer, but it was worth a try.
Sorcha’s gaze fell to Elspeth. “The healer gives her strength ta those who need her. It drains from her inta them.”
“And leaves her with nothing?” he whispered in horror. He could never ask her to heal him, not if this would be the end result. It would kill him if he hurt her. How could anyone ask that of her? How could her sister witches ask that of her?
Sorcha shook her head. “I’ve never seen her respond like this before. But the more attached the healer is ta her subject, the more dangerous it is for her. El and Cait are very close.”
Too bloody close. He should have already taken her and left for London. If he had, she wouldn’t be lying lifelessly in his arms. He stared at Elspeth, willing her to open her eyes. “Come on, Ellie.”
As soon as they reached the cottage, Sorcha leapt out of the coach ahead of him and held open the front door. “Her room is—”
“The one in the back,” he finished. “I know.” He pushed open her door with his foot. “Pull back the counterpane for me, will you?”
Sorcha scrambled to do his bidding before Ben placed Elspeth on her small mattress. She looked so helpless lying there. He tugged the blankets up around her and dropped to his knees beside her bed.
Behind him, Sorcha cleared her throat. “It isna proper for ye ta be in here, my lord.”
“Unless you are capable of dragging me out of here, I’m not leaving her side.”
“Well, then,” she began, her voice sounding a bit strangled. “I suppose I’ll go start some broth.”
He touched Elspeth’s brow and winced at the icy feel of her skin. If only he could warm her somehow, get her blood moving. He rubbed her skin lightly, trying to generate heat. But she did not warm or wake.
Lycans were known for their body heat. Surely he could warm her with his own body. Ben shrugged out of his coat, lifted the corner of the counterpane and slid beneath it. He pulled her inert form closer to him. But all he felt was her clothing brushing against his. He needed skin-to-skin contact.
The clank of pots and pans he heard from the direction of the kitchen let him know Sorcha was busy preparing the broth she’d mentioned. He quickly and expertly untied the laces at the back of Elspeth’s neck and gently tugged her gown from her shoulders. The reason for undressing her was purely medicinal. He tried to convince himself of that fact as he tugged her gown over her hips, leaving her in a thin chemise.
Ben tried not to look at the dusky rose color of her nipples, the shadows of which he could see through the thin fabric. He hurriedly yanked his cravat loose, threw off his waistcoat, and tugged his shirt over his head.
Ben sank beneath the counterpane once more and rolled Elspeth so that the length of her body was pressed along his. He tucked her fiery head under his chin and adjusted her hips to fit nicely against his. She was still too cold.
Ben pulled one of her legs between his so that he could cradle her closely before he pulled the counterpane higher over their shoulders. He waited, stroking her back patiently as he willed her to wake.
He’d never felt such a blinding desire to protect someone as when he’d seen Elspeth collapse. He couldn’t get to her fast enough.
She stirred against him, and he took her hand in his, raising it to his cheek. He gently pressed a kiss to her palm. Then he saw the mark she wore, her own mark of the beast. As a last resort, he might use that to reach her. It definitely connected them. He just wasn’t sure if the connection was physical or emotional.
For him, she was both. He closed his eyes tightly when he felt a hint of desire. He couldn’t hold her nearly naked form so close and feel nothing.
The stomp of footsteps met his ears, and he groaned at the very thought of someone seeing such a private scene. He glanced up at Sorcha, who stood still in the threshold, her mouth hanging open, a gasp frozen in the air.
“She was too cold,” he said, by way of explanation. “It’s the best way to warm her.”
“By usin’ yer body?” she hissed. “I could have warmed some bricks or… somethin’!”
“It’s really the best way,” he started, but a sound cut him off. “Someone is coming,” he said quietly.
A knock sounded on the door ten seconds later.
“How did ye ken that?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m Lycan, for God’s sake,” he growled. “Now, be a good witch and close the bedroom door before you go see who’s here.”
Sorcha flounced off in a huff, but the soft snick of the door closing told him she’d followed his instructions.
Elspeth moved against him and he felt himself harden. He groaned and laid his head against the pillow in defeat. “Sorry, lass. I cannot help it holding you this way,” he whispered to himself.
“Canna help what?” she asked quietly from within his arms.
Twenty-six
Elspeth’s limbs were as weak as water, but she managed to croak out a few words. Strong fingers anxiously pushed at her hair, moving it from her face. An insistent hand cupped her jaw and forced her to look up.
“Where am I?” she croaked. “What happened?”
Elspeth’s mind told her to move, but her body really wanted to stay wrapped up in the beautiful heat that was the man next to her.
“You’re in your bed,” Ben said quietly.
“With ye in it, too?” She couldn’t help but giggle. “This is the best dream I’ve ever had.” She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed a cheek to his bare chest. “So warm,” she sighed.
“I’m happy to hear that you like me in your bed, lass.”
Elspeth tested the huge cocoon that was his body, stretching languidly. Her thigh was trapped between his own. She didn’t have the strength to move, so she simply burrowed in closer.
Wiry hair teased her fingertips as she brushed her hands through the hair on his chest. He groaned and captured her hands. “I can only stand so much.”
Elspeth raised the counterpane and glanced down. “Where are my clothes?” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I took them off you to warm you up.”
“A likely story,” she said as she swatted at his chest.
“Do you remember being with Miss Macleod, Ellie?”
“Oh,” Elspeth gasped. She did remember. “Is she all right?”
“You healed her.” His fingertip touched her chin and forced her to raise her gaze. “At great risk to yourself.”
“That’s the way it is with healers, Ben.” She lifted the edge of the blanket again. “I need ta get up ta go check on Cait. But I canna figure out how ta do so.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said as he pulled her tighter against him. “Not until I’m sure you’re well.”
“Ye canna keep me against my will,” she breathed. But her traitorous nipples hardened in response to his closeness, and when she moved they brushed the fabric of her chemise. They may as well have been touching his skin.
“I don’t think keeping you would be against your will,” he growled. “Are you warm yet?”
“Quite,” she gasped as he flipped her onto her back and pressed her into the mattress. The knee that had been so firmly clasped between his was now pushed to the side and he settled firmly between her thighs.
He looked down at her, a curious smile tilting the corner of his mouth. “Against your will, you say?” His head dipped down to touch his lips to hers briefly. It was like
the touch of a butterfly on her finger.
That’s all she would get? “And here I thought ye were goin’ ta devour me,” she taunted him.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he quietly regarded her. “Why, thank you for the offer.” He smirked. “I believe I’ll take you up on your hospitality.”
His lips touched hers, more firmly this time, his body pressing her into the mattress. His lower body was still cradled between her thighs. He rocked against her, the movement creating a sudden thumping in her center.
“That wasna an invite ta do that,” she gasped as he raised his hand to cup her breast. He lowered his head and touched the aching peak with his tongue through the fabric of her chemise. This time it was her hips that rose to press against his.
“Do I need an invitation?” he teased as he did the same to the other breast. “I know how wet you are. And that you want me. I don’t need a better invitation.”
“Ye seem mighty sure of yerself,” she said, unable to keep from arching her back to bring herself closer to his lips. Her hands tangled in his hair.
Suddenly he stilled. “Someone is coming,” he whispered. “And it’s not me,” he groaned as he rolled from atop her body, slid from beneath her counterpane, and pulled his shirt over his head. He had just finished righting his clothing when the bedroom door was flung open with a bang.
Elspeth groaned to herself when she saw Alec MacQuarrie standing in the threshold and pulled the counterpane up to her chin.
“Why do all the men feel like they need ta crowd my bedroom?” she groaned before she pulled the counterpane over her head.
“Because you don’t know how to take care of yourself, Elspeth. You have no one, save your friends,” MacQuarrie ground out.
“I can take care of myself just fine, thank ye very much,” she called from beneath the covers. Then she pulled the counterpane down and peeped over it. “It’s no’ like he’s in bed with me.”
“Aye, no’ now. But he was a moment ago.” Sorcha’s tiny voice chirped from her safe place behind Alec.
How could Sorcha possibly know that? Elspeth’s face warmed.
MacQuarrie turned to the smallest witch. “He was in bed with her?” His face purpled and his hands balled into fists.
“H-he said it was ta w-warm her up,” she stuttered, looking at her feet all the while.
“I can just imagine the kind of warming he was doing,” MacQuarrie sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Then he crossed his arms and leveled a stare at his friend.
Ben sat casually in a chair by her bed, his elbows resting on his knees, as though he held court in women’s bedrooms all the time. Maybe he did. Why did that thought suddenly make her irrationally jealous? He arched one eyebrow at her, a playful smile hovering about his lips.
MacQuarrie glanced about the room. His face hardened and a muscle twitched by his left eye when he spotted her dress on the floor. “What are you wearing under that counterpane, Elspeth? Please, don’t tell me he was in bed with you naked.”
“I canna see why that would be any of yer business,
Mr. MacQuarrie,” Elspeth snapped. If one more person tried to run her life, she would scream.
“Elspeth, you have no family. I’m trying to stand up for you. Please tell me he didn’t take advantage of you. Because then I would have to lay waste to my very best friend.”
“You could try,” Ben growled under his breath.
Alec MacQuarrie truly did have good intentions, Elspeth believed in her heart. They all did. But she was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake.
“Out!” she yelled. “All of ye!” She brought her arms from beneath the counterpane and brushed her hands toward the door when they all stood there like ninnies looking at her. “I plan ta get out of this bed in ten seconds, and unless ye do want ta see what I have on—” She raised the edge of the counterpane and looked down. “Or do no’.” She shrugged and shook her head in disbelief. “Ye’d better be out of my room by then.”
Elspeth sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed. “Doona say I dinna warn ye.” She prepared to drop the counterpane.
The door slammed shut quickly. Elspeth rested her forehead in her hands for a moment before she looked up at Ben. “Why are ye still here?”
He shrugged as a wolfish grin crossed his face. “I wanted to see what you wore beneath the counterpane.”
“Ye already ken what I’m no’ wearin’. Ye undressed me, after all.” He’d always known her temper matched her hair. And all the rest of her.
“Oh, yes, I did,” he growled, with the sweet
memory of her nearly bare body pressed against his taking over his senses.
“Would ye please leave so I can get dressed, Ben?” she sighed, as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
Ben dropped to crouch before her as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I think I have just well and truly ruined you, Miss Campbell.”
“I’m sure ye have, Ben. But worse things have happened.”
“What could be worse, Ellie?” he asked. He truly wanted to know what lay in her heart.
“I could be ruined with a bairn on the way, Ben. It seems ta be the way of the Campbell women.” She fidgeted with a loose string on the counterpane, which she still clutched to her chest.
“Alec will insist that I marry you now,” Ben said quietly, watching her face as he said the words. “Since I have been in your bed.”
She waved her hand. “That doesna count. It wasna even a pleasure.” Her face colored when she realized what she’d said.
Ben chuckled. “It was a pleasure for me.”
“Ye ken what I meant ta say!” she cried.
“No. Tell me,” he whispered, his voice suddenly straining against his throat, the same way his shaft strained against his pants.
“When ye came ta me under the night sky, and we came together. That was pleasure. I canna imagine anythin’ more pleasurable.”
“I promise that the next time I share your bed, it will be more pleasurable.”
Elspeth’s eyes grew wide, then she looked down at the mark on her wrist. She lifted one hand to stroke across it.
“If you touch that now, lass, I’ll have to be inside you.”
She lowered her hands. Thank God! He didn’t think he could take more torment.
Elspeth leaned forward and touched her forehead to his, her green eyes flashing. “What if I want ye ta be inside me?” A pretty blush crept up her cheeks.
It was the hardest thing Ben had ever done, not to toss her onto her back and surge into her. But he stopped, counted to ten, and then met her eyes. “Then you’ll have to marry me first, won’t you?”
Elspeth sat back, studying him. “Marriage? That’s no’ very fair ta ye. I mean ye were only trying ta help me and—”
“I meant to ask you earlier today anyway, Ellie.”
She blinked at him. “Ta marry ye?” she asked doubtfully.
It wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned to ask her, but a lot had happened between this morning and now. “Yes, before Blaire threw her fireball at me.”
She shook her head as though not truly believing his words. “Why would ye want such a thing?”
Ben cupped her jaw. “Because I want you. I care about you, Elspeth, and I don’t intend to travel with you to London and have you meet my mother and brothers without my ring on your finger.” At that he pulled off his pinkie ring and placed it in his palm, offering it for her to examine. “I’m sure it’s too big. I’ll get you something more appropriate once we arrive in London. A nice, big emerald to match your eyes.”
Tentatively, Elspeth picked up the ring, turning it over in her hand. Her gaze flashed back to him. “I like this one. I never noticed the wolf before.” She ran her finger over the engraved image and then handed it back to him.
Ben’s heart swelled with pride at her words. “It’s the Blackmoor crest,” he informed her as he slid the ring back on his pinkie. “What d
o you say, Ellie? Will you marry me?”
“Are ye sure about this?”
She didn’t really have a choice. She was ruined, like her mother before her. But saying so wouldn’t be the right way to go about convincing her. Besides, he did want her. This situation simply solidified it. “I’ve never been more sure,” he replied with a wink.
Elspeth threw her arms around his neck. “I think ye’re mad ta want me for a wife, Ben Westfield. I’m certain most lords doona marry illegitimate—”
He pulled back from her. “I don’t think of you like that.”
“But it’s the truth.”
He hated to see the hurt in her eyes, the years of knowing that everyone else thought they were better than her. “It doesn’t matter to me,” he assured her. “And when you’re Lady Elspeth Westfield, no one else will dare say a thing.”
She bit her plump bottom lip. Ben could tell she wanted to believe him. “Lady Elspeth Westfield? I do like the sound of that.”
Ben grinned at her and pulled her back into his arms. She belonged there, and he wouldn’t ever let her go. “Get dressed, love, then we’ll go see Mr. Crawford.”
“Ye want ta marry me in the church?” she asked, a note of surprise in her voice.
Ben kissed her chin. “My mother will be furious enough that she wasn’t invited, Ellie. I can’t tell her I married you over an anvil or something like that. She’d have my head.”
Twenty-seven
Ben thought it might be nice to help his bride-to-be dress, but she promptly tossed him from her room. As soon as he stepped over her threshold, Alec grabbed his coat with both hands and scowled at him. “I can’t believe you’ve done this, Westfield.”
Ben shrugged out of his friend’s grasp. “It’s not the way I planned it, but I can’t say I’m unhappy with the outcome.”
“She collapsed!” Alec hissed, as if the word meant something more significant. “Fainted.”
“You saw that for yourself, MacQuarrie.”
“Aye, I just didn’t understand what it meant until I found you in her bed.”
Ben shook his head, not grasping his friend’s meaning.