by Lydia Dare
“Your friends think I’m dangerous,” he said as they began walking again.
“Are they wrong?”
A charming grin spread across his lips. “They’re more right than you can possibly imagine.”
Elspeth didn’t know what to make of that, so she said nothing and watched the spinning couples nearby. After all, she couldn’t very well agree with him, because as a witch, she could imagine quite a lot.
“Alec says you’re a talented herbalist,” he said.
He had asked his friend about her? She almost tripped on her hem. “I suppose ye could say that.” “This will probably sound strange, Miss Campbell, but maybe you can help me. I’m looking for a… healer of sorts.”
That time she did stumble. A healer. It wasn’t possible he knew, was it?
His arm snaked around her waist and steadied her. “I’ve got you,” he said, his warm breath brushing her neck.
“I warned ye I was clumsy,” she whispered back.
“So you did.” He laughed. “But I don’t scare so easily.”
“Well,” Alec MacQuarrie’s voice halted them, “the two of you seem to have hit it off.”
“El,” Caitrin began, hanging on to her companion’s arm, “I’m so tired and asked Mr. MacQuarrie ta return us home. Do ye mind leavin’ early?”
Elspeth frowned. Caitrin and the others were so transparent. It was becoming a bit frustrating. “Actually, Cait, I’m havin’ such a wonderful time, I think I’ll stay.”
“I’ll see you returned safely home, Miss Campbell,” Lord Benjamin promised.
Caitrin’s creased brow was quite satisfying. Elspeth turned her attention to the Englishman and smiled, grateful for his assistance. “That’s very kind of ye, sir.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
“Ben,” Alec MacQuarrie’s voice held a warning. But Lord Benjamin paid it no heed. “Miss Macleod is tired, Alec. You best be on your way.” Then he guided Elspeth past them with just a bit of pressure on her back.
She heaved an irritated sigh as they moved past their respective friends. “It’s so nice ta ken they doona think I can make wise choices,” she muttered to herself.
Lord Benjamin laughed. “I can relate, Miss Campbell. My older brothers are inclined to behave the same way.”
“How do ye handle it?”
“I escaped to Scotland.”
Seven
“ESCAPE SOUNDS HEAVENLY,” SHE SAID QUIETLY. BEN studied the downcast sweep of her gaze and the slump of her shoulders.
He covered the hand that still held his arm with his own. Her gaze immediately rose to meet his. “I offered to take you over the wall, Miss Campbell.” He nodded toward the terrace doors and waited for her to reply. He would still do it. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, jump the wall, and run away with her.
“There’s enough scandal attached ta the Campbell name, Lord Benjamin. I could never subject my friends and family ta more.”
“I have never fully understood the bounds of propriety, Miss Campbell. When one should be at ease and when one should not. I prefer studying Latin to studying human nature. And I truly abhor Latin.”
Her green eyes flashed. “I would have ta disagree with ye there, Lord Benjamin.”
“You enjoy Latin?”
Her tinkling laugh was music to his ears.
“No. I enjoy studyin’ people quite a bit, though.”
“Tell me something interesting about someone here,” he said offhandedly. Perhaps she would feel more at ease if he encouraged her to talk.
“I could never share secrets that are no’ mine,” she sighed.
“As loyal as you are beautiful,” he remarked. Her face colored prettily.
Ben glanced around the room, immediately noticing the couples who’d paired off. His keen sense of hearing allowed him to pick up bits and pieces of conversation.
He nodded toward a couple leaving the dance floor. “Those two have a romantic tryst planned in just a moment.”
“That is no secret, Lord Benjamin. Everyone at the ball is privy ta that bit of information. Except her husband, of course,” Miss Campbell said as she looked over her shoulder at a brooding hulk of a man who was much too busy entertaining his friends with tales of his importance while someone else entertained his wife.
“Poor bloke,” Ben couldn’t help but mumble.
He was surprised when she narrowed her eyes at him. “How did ye ken about them?”
“Just a guess,” he lied smoothly. Truly, being a Lycan did allow him some freedom to listen to bits here and there that others missed. Of course, he couldn’t tell her about that talent.
Ben turned her smoothly around a knot of people gathered in their path. As they passed, he heard a vile remark about Miss Campbell. “So much like her mother, isn’t she?” The whisper came from a group of dowagers. Ben squelched the urge to bare his teeth and growl.
“Is somethin’ wrong?” she asked, her hand tightening on his arm.
“No, nothing.” He attempted a fake smile.
She stopped walking and pulled her hand from his. Her eyebrows drew together. There was that fiery redhead’s temper he’d expected from the start.
“Then what’s wrong with ye?” she asked.
“Why on earth would you think something is wrong with me?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. “Stupidity is no’ an act ye portray well, Lord Benjamin.”
“Well, I should hope not, Miss Campbell,” Ben retorted, fighting hard to bite back a grin. It wasn’t often that a woman called him stupid and made him like it. He ran through the events in his mind and wasn’t entirely sure how she’d done it.
“What did they say?” she asked quietly as she gave up and tucked her hand back into his arm. “And doona tell me nothin’. Because we both ken that’s no’ true.”
Ben debated for a moment before answering. “They were comparing you to your mother,” he finally admitted. “Which can’t possibly be a bad thing. I imagine that’s where you inherited your beauty.”
“I’m said ta resemble my mother much more than my father, aye.”
“And he was?” Ben prodded when she stopped talking.
“I’ve no idea,” she admitted.
“That’s his loss, then, isn’t it?”
“No. It was mine. Because he killed my mother.”
This time it was Ben’s turn to stumble. But before she could remark about his ability to put one foot in front of the other, they were interrupted.
“Miss Campbell,” Caitrin’s maid interrupted them and curtsied to Lord Benjamin. “Beg yer pardon, miss, but Miss Macleod sent me ta get ye.”
“What’s wrong?” Lord Benjamin barked before she could even squeak out a reply. She frowned at him. He showed no remorse.
“It’s yer grandfather,” the maid said. “He’s taken a turn for the worse.”
Elspeth quickly gauged the fastest way out of the room. Truly the quickest way to get to her grandfather was to cut through the woods. She knew the woods well and often traveled that route to visit Sorcha.
“Lord Benjamin, do ye still feel led ta climb the terrace wall?”
He blinked at her twice and nodded. “Lead the way, Miss Campbell.”
Elspeth absently gnawed her bottom lip as she skirted the room, vaguely noting Lord Benjamin’s presence beside her. She exited through the terrace doors, walked to the wall, and peered over into the darkness.
“I believe it’s farther down than ye think. I should go out the front door.” She fought the panic that threatened as she realized what valuable time she’d lost.
But before she could go back through the terrace doors, Lord Benjamin scooped her up in his arms. She lifted her face to rebuke him, but the intensity in his eyes stopped her. “Please put me down,” she choked out as tears threatened to fall. “I have ta go.”
“We’ll go together,” he said quickly. “Put your arms around my neck.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he sighed, “I’ve nev
er had to beg a woman to put her arms around me. But I’ll start with you. Please put your arms around my neck. Else there’s a chance I could drop you.”
Elspeth reached up to wrap one arm around his shoulders and clutched the lapel of his jacket with the other.
He walked closer to the wall and lifted one leg, then the other, until he sat on the edge. “Ready?” he asked, the intensity in his gaze alarming.
“Ready.” She nodded as she closed her eyes tightly.
He slid off the wall. It seemed like hours but was only seconds before he landed solidly on his feet in the grass. He dropped her legs and allowed her to slide down his body. Thankfully, he didn’t expect her to bear her full weight immediately.
“I could stand like this with you all night, love, but I feel sure you’d be mad with me later if we did.”
Elspeth shook her head, trying to regain her senses. “How did ye do that?”
“I’ll explain it to you some other time.” He took her hand in his. “Which way?” he asked as his eyes searched the darkness.
“We’ve no light,” she groaned.
“That’s all right. We don’t need one,” he said as he tugged her fingertips. “I can see well in the dark.”
Truth be told, he could follow the scent she’d left on previous journeys down the path to get to her grandfather’s, he was so in tune with her at that moment. She showed him the trail that led into the woods and raised one eyebrow at him. He immediately realized she had no plans to wait for him to lead.
She picked up her skirts and dashed ahead of him, leaving him to sputter to a start behind her. He did so with very little thought, except for how beautiful she looked with her skirts hiked up about her knees, her hair escaping its knot, which her friends had just restored for her. Her flaming locks caught the moonbeams that filtered through the tree branches and shimmered like fire.
Immediately, Ben felt the call of the moon. He felt the urgency and the intensity that normally presented itself to him in the days prior to the moonful.
Never before had he ever heard of anyone like him changing unless it was at the moonful, but he felt the rush of power. He tamped it down and took his gaze from Miss Campbell. His head spun as he wondered which was calling more powerfully, the lovely creature before him or the moon. He couldn’t tell which led him. But he was forced to follow.
She broke from the forest and never slowed her pace as she crossed a meadow. He moved up to run at her side rather than behind her. He’d never met a female who could run so far or so fast, and he found a smile erupting as he realized how wonderful it was to run free with her.
Miss Campbell slowed as she approached a fence. But Ben did not. He vaulted over and then held out his arms to her. She climbed the fence and hopped into his waiting arms. He held back a laugh of sheer contentment as he caught her weight with ease.
The tiny cottage where she lived was located on the outskirts of town. She slowed only briefly as they neared her home. The MacQuarrie carriage sat in front. Alec paced outside the entrance.
Miss Campbell rushed past him and into the house, the door slamming hard behind her.
Ben bent at the waist as he worked to catch his breath. “The woman runs like a wolf. Never seen anything like it,” he said to Alec.
“Like a what?” Alec scratched his head.
“Like a deer. The woman runs like a deer.” Ben corrected himself.
“Did you just run—” He stopped and pointed toward the woods. Then his eyes opened wide as he realized the two of them must have run all the way from the Fergusons’ to the Campbells’. “I’ve seen you do a lot of things to get a woman into bed, my friend, but this one has to be the best.”
Alec didn’t even finish the thought before he found himself pressed against the door, Ben’s arm beneath his throat, his feet several inches off the ground.
“I’ll not allow anyone to speak of Miss Campbell that way,” Ben snarled.
Alec grunted and pulled against Ben’s arm, but Ben ignored his struggle. “Put me down,” he gasped.
Ben fought his conscience, unsure of how to respond. The wolf in him wanted to show his dominance, to make Alec come to heel. But the friend in him was ready to release the poor gent. The choice was taken from him when the door was flung open and they both fell inside in a heap.
Eight
“JUST WHAT DO YE THINK YE’RE DOIN’, LORD BENJAMIN?” Miss Macleod asked, her hands upon her hips, standing above them.
Alec pushed him off and shrugged to his feet. “Protecting Miss Campbell’s honor, I believe,” he muttered as he held a hand out to Ben and pulled him up.
“From ye?” Miss Macleod asked. “Why in the world would he need ta do that?”
“Why, indeed?” Alec asked, his head cocked to one side as he regarded Ben with curiosity.
Ben dusted himself off and leveled Miss Macleod with his haughtiest look, the one only sons of dukes ever seemed to master. “What’s the matter with Mr. Campbell?”
Her lip quivered and she blinked back tears. “He’s dyin’. He has been for some time. El’s done everythin’ she can ta keep him alive.”
Elspeth couldn’t possibly have the funds to hire a decent physician. Ben took in the cottage. It was tidy and clean, but quite small. Different in every way from the Fergusons’ mansion and the Macleods’ impressive home. Paying for a physician wasn’t, however, a problem for him.
He turned to Alec. “What are you waiting for, MacQuarrie? This is your city. Find your best doctor and bring him here.”
Miss Macleod gasped. “Ye think a doctor can do better than Elspeth has?”
Ben frowned at the girl. Was Alec right? Were they all uneducated and superstitious? “Knowing herbs is one thing, Miss Macleod, but science is another. The finest medical school in Britain is here in your fair city.”
She puffed herself up to her fullest height. “Thank ye for seein’ her home, but I think ye should leave now, my lord.”
If she’d punched him, he wouldn’t have been more shocked. Alec clapped a hand to his back. “Come along, Westfield. I’ll take ye home.” Then he smiled at Miss Macleod. “Will you be all right here, lass?”
She nodded. “Thank ye, Mr. MacQuarrie, for everythin’.”
Ben allowed himself to be dragged from the cottage. “There’s nothing to be done, Westfield,” Alec said.
“How can you say that? Are all you Scots completely mad?”
Alec pulled open the door to his coach. “You can call on her in the morning if you’re of a mind.”
Against his better judgment, Ben climbed inside the coach and settled against the leather squabs. “This feels wrong, Alec.”
His friend sighed as the coach slowly rambled down the dark lane. “You know as well as I there’s nothing to be done for a wasting disease, Westfield. Even London’s most prestigious doctor wouldn’t be able to save Mr. Campbell.”
A wasting disease? Ben cringed as he realized Alec was right. Poor Elspeth.
Elspeth clasped her grandfather’s hand. It was clammy and she noticed his pulse had slowed dangerously. She shouldn’t have left him to go to Sorcha’s silly party. “Papa, can ye hear me?”
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Caitrin swipe a tear from her eye.
“He’ll be all right,” Elspeth vowed.
But Caitrin shook her head. “Ah, sweetheart, I wish it were so.”
She blinked at her friend. “What do ye mean by that?”
Caitrin smoothed Elspeth’s wild hair and sniffed back more tears. “Mr. MacQuarrie was walkin’ me ta my door when I saw yer grandfather, El, in my mind. He’s no’ goin’ ta wake up. I sent for ye as soon as I realized.”
Tears poured from Elspeth’s eyes as she turned back to her grandfather. She clutched his hand tighter and willed him to wake. “Papa, I’m here. Doona leave me.”
Caitrin squeezed her shoulders. “Ye should get some rest. Ye’re goin’ ta need it.”
Elspeth shook her head. “Ye saw
him die?”
“Aye.”
“Then ye must’ve seen me stay with him until then.” She’d never leave him. Not now. Not when he needed her the most.
“Aye,” Caitrin whispered. “I saw that, too.”
Elspeth barely noticed when the others arrived. But soon her grandfather’s small room was filled with all the witches of the Còig.
Sorcha and Blaire lit candles in every corner. Then the five of them joined hands around Mr. Campbell’s bed, Elspeth’s sisters offering silent support.
Elspeth had never felt so helpless in all her life. What was the point of being able to heal others if she couldn’t save her own grandfather?
In the dead of night, old Liam Campbell took a loud, deep breath and released it. His chest stopped rising and falling. Elspeth staggered to her feet and pulled the family plaid up under his chin. She kissed his cold cheek and stumbled from the room.
Caitrin stopped Sorcha from going after Elspeth. “She needs some time alone.”
Sorcha bit her bottom lip but did as she was asked.
“There’s somethin’ ye’re no’ sayin’,” Rhiannon whispered, successfully catching the others’ attention.
Caitrin hated that she was so easy to read. Still, there was no point in denying the truth. She nodded. “It’s the Sassenach, MacQuarrie’s friend.”
“Lord Benjamin?” Blaire asked.
“Aye. I’ve seen him before.”
“When ye went ta London last year?” Sorcha reasoned.
“Mo chreach, ye’re daft,” Rhiannon complained. “He’s the one, Cait? The one from yer vision?”
“Aye,” Caitrin admitted. She hadn’t been certain until after she and Alec MacQuarrie had left the ball. A vision flashed in her mind during the short journey home before she’d seen Mr. Campbell take his last breath. Westfield intended to take Elspeth from them; there was no doubt in her mind. He wore the mark she’d seen weeks earlier.
“I ken he was trouble,” Rhiannon grumbled. “He had her hair undone. No gentleman does such a thing.”
“But she said nothin’ happened,” Sorcha protested.
As the two of them argued, Blaire touched Caitrin’s arm. “What’re we ta do?”