Lydia Dare Wolf Bundle

by Lydia Dare

  “I doona see us keepin’ her,” Caitrin whispered, the words ripped from her soul. But it was true. She didn’t see them winning.

  “Well, we canna give her up. Ye say the man’s a beast?”

  Unable to speak, Caitrin only nodded.

  “So we’ll fight ta keep her. We’ll move her ta yer house. She’ll stay with ye and we’ll outlast him. He canna get through all of us.”

  It was a losing battle. But Blaire was right, they couldn’t just give up on Elspeth. She was part of them. She was their sister.

  “Rhiannon, make the arrangements with the vicar, will ye?” Caitrin asked.

  “Of course.”

  “And, Sorcha, ye and Blaire can help me pack up the house. The sooner we move Elspeth, the better.”

  Elspeth sat in a small chair and stared off into her memories. She knew this day was coming, but it was still hard to believe. It didn’t seem all that long ago that her grandfather had been a robust man, the strongest she knew.

  Rhiannon explained before she left that she’d make the arrangements with the vicar, and Elspeth nodded silently. There wasn’t much else she could do. Then she realized Caitrin and the others were packing up her herbs and oils.

  She stood on shaky legs. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”

  Caitrin rushed toward her. “Doona worry, dearest. We’ll get yer stores settled right.”

  “Why do they need settlin’?”

  Caitrin swallowed. “Well, ye’re goin’ ta come stay with me for a while.”

  Elspeth shook her head. “I’m no’ goin’ anywhere. This is my home, Cait.”

  “Ye shouldna be alone right now. Ye’ll just stay with me for a little while.”

  “No. This was my grandfather’s home. It’s my home. I’m no’ goin’ anywhere.”

  Caitrin draped her arm around Elspeth’s shoulders. “Be reasonable. Ye’ve been through so much.”

  “And there’s the man with the mark,” Sorcha added with a quiver to her voice.

  Elspeth stepped out of Caitrin’s hold. “I’ll no’ run from him. My father could knock down that door right there, and I’ll no’ leave with him. And I’ll no’ leave with ye. This is my home.” It was filled with memories of her grandfather and she wasn’t leaving. They couldn’t make her.

  “But Lord Benjamin,” Sorcha began. “What about him?”

  A hysterical laugh escaped Elspeth. “What about him, Sorcha? I ken ye doona like him, but he’s a nice man. That’s all. What do ye think the brother of a powerful English duke wants with me? Nothin’, that’s what. Now enough of this. I doona want ta hear any more.”

  “But what if he’s the man?” Sorcha persisted. “The man with the mark?” The girl’s eyes flashed to Caitrin.

  Elspeth felt the last of her patience evaporate. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. I bear the mark myself. Doona ye think I’d feel it if another were near?”

  “Do ye feel it?” Caitrin whispered.

  She felt nothing now but emptiness. “Of course no’. This is foolishness. I appreciate all of ye bein’ here for me, but I doona want ta hear any more of this nonsense. When my father arrives, I will speak ta him. I’ll ask him a lifetime’s worth of questions, I’ll find out what he wants from me. But I’ll no’ go with him. Now I’d very much like ta be alone.”

  “Promise ye won’t go off with Westfield, and we’ll leave.”

  “Out!” Elspeth yelled. “All of ye!”

  Nine

  BEN SAT BOLT UPRIGHT IN BED. WHAT AN AWFUL DREAM. Another moonful had come and gone without his changing. He heaved a sigh and fell back against the feather pillows. He would go in search of Rosewyth Campbell in the morning, just as soon as he checked in on Elspeth.

  A wasting disease. He shivered at the thought. When his time came, he hoped it was quick and easy. He didn’t want to wither away before the people who loved him. The poor girl. He hadn’t even been able to wish her a good night, make sure she was all right.

  Ben crossed his hands beneath his head and thought about how she had looked as she ran through the woods. He had never seen anyone so passionate or uninhibited. She’d lifted her skirts and run. Run like a wolf.

  Ever since Ben was a boy, he’d loved to run. He’d far outdistanced his friends and his brothers. Even other Lycans could not match his speed or stealth. But he’d been matched by a mere slip of a girl.

  Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He had to see her. Ben rose and dressed in the dark of night. His purpose for coming to Scotland was to find the healer. But he’d found more than that. He’d found a fiery-haired beauty who was vulnerable. And she called to the wolf in him, unlike anything else had for quite a while. He walked quietly down the stairs and reached for the door handle. But Alec’s voice stopped him.

  “Where you off to, Westfield?”

  “Why are you up?” Ben shot back.

  “Messenger woke me an hour ago. Now it’s your turn.” He raised an eyebrow at Ben.

  “I was going to see Miss Campbell. To see how her grandfather is doing.”

  “He didn’t survive the night,” Alec said as he shook his head.

  “How do you know?” Ben spun to face him.

  “Miss Macleod sent a messenger when he died. That’s what woke me. I asked her to let me know when something happened. I am surprised she sent her man so late—or early, as the case may be.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ben snapped.

  “And what would you have done?” Alec narrowed his eyes. “You’re nothing to the girl, Ben. You can’t help her through this.”

  “I could try,” he mumbled.

  “You’ve never cared for anyone, aside from your brothers. You’ve been with more women than I can count on my fingers and toes. And never for more than a night.” He advanced toward Ben. “You’re not good for her.”

  “And who are you to decide that?” Ben felt a blinding rage. He pressed through it. During most of the time that he was tarnishing his name, Alec had been right beside him. “Who made you her guardian?”

  “Not her guardian.” His friend shook his head. “But I know she’ll not be safe with you. You’ll ruin her. Then you’ll disappear, like you always do. She’ll be left to pick up the pieces of her tattered reputation. Her mother had a hard life. I’d not want the same for her.” He clasped Ben’s shoulder. “You hear me? She’s a good girl. Leave her be.”

  “She’s all alone?”

  “She has friends. They’ll take care of her.” He shot Ben a warning glance.

  “Who’s with her now?” he pressed. He needed to know she wasn’t alone.

  “I’m not sure anyone is at the moment. Miss Macleod’s note said the lass kicked them all out.”

  Ben chuckled at the image of his fiery Elspeth doing just that.

  “It’s not funny,” Alec reprimanded him with a scowl.

  “No. It’s not funny at all,” he agreed. “It’s sad.” He turned and started back up the stairs.

  “You’re giving up so easily?” Alec asked.

  “I’m not good for her. You said so yourself.”

  “Well, I never expected you to agree,” Alec mumbled as he walked back toward his study. “But I’m glad you do. Rest easy, Westfield.”

  Ben tried to maintain a casual pace as he ascended the stairs. But as soon as he turned the corner out of sight, he sped up. He went back to his room and crossed to the window. Only two stories up. He’d jumped farther before.

  Ben pushed the window up slowly, happy to hear that it made little noise. He swung one leg over the side and then the other. He hung by his fingertips until he finally dropped, landing in a crouch in some soft moss. But he immediately rose and jogged across the back lawn and into the woods. Then he let his senses lead him to her.

  He didn’t stop until her cottage came into view, then he stopped and shook his head. It wasn’t even dawn. What madness had come over him? In the back of his mind he could hear Simon lecture him for his reckless impulsiveness.


  Not that it mattered. The pull Elspeth Campbell had over him was too strong, and he couldn’t turn away if he wanted to. He continued toward the door.

  Before he could knock, it opened and Elspeth gasped. “Mo chreach! Ye frightened me!” A pail dropped from her hands.

  “My apologies, Miss Campbell.” He reached out his hand to keep her from falling and grasped a handful of her skirts.

  Her eyes widened and she backed away from him. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”

  Ben heaved a sigh. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t planned a bloody thing. “I just wanted to see you. MacQuarrie told me about your grandfather, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  She looked into the darkened night. “No horse? Did ye walk all the way here, my lord?”

  He took a step toward her, not even trying to hide the grin on his face. “I took the path you showed me. I didn’t know another way.”

  Elspeth stared at the handsome Englishman. It would be so easy to get lost in the depths of his eyes. How could Sorcha possibly believe this man wore the mark? She shook her head to dispel such foolish thoughts. “Ye shouldna be here. I have things ta do.”

  “What things could you possibly have to do in the middle of the night?”

  Elspeth retrieved her pail of tar. “People will start comin’ to see him in the mornin’. I need to blacken the door and—”

  “Blacken the door?”

  “’Tis tradition, Lord Benjamin.”

  “You Scots and your traditions,” he said with a smile and reached out his hand toward her pail. “I’ll do it.”

  She motioned toward the house with her hand. “I already stopped the clocks. But I havena covered the mirrors yet,” she said absently, but she let him take the pail from her.

  “You should rest.”

  Elspeth swiped a tear from her eye. “I’m tired of everyone tellin’ me ta rest. I’m just fine.”

  “Yes,” he said, his deep voice rumbling over her like a caress. “I can see you don’t need anyone.” Lord Benjamin closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. Elspeth couldn’t help but sag against him, even though she knew she shouldn’t. It was heaven not to support her own weight, so she let him do it for her.

  “I canna stop,” she said, unable to keep her voice from cracking. “If I do, I’ll no’ be able ta start again.”

  “I know,” he said softly. He didn’t even pull away when she began to sob against his chest. “It’s all right,” he crooned, his voice soft and melodic, and he rubbed her back with the flat of his palm.

  Elspeth clutched the lapels of his coat in her hands as she pressed her forehead into his strong chest. “I’m sorry ta be such a bairn.”

  He tried to tip her chin with his finger so that she would look up at him, but she didn’t move her head. By now her eyes were probably all red and her nose puffy. But he didn’t give up. His hand cupped her face and tilted it toward him.

  Her eyes met his with a jolt. “You’re not a baby,” he said softly. “You’re human, that’s all.” The pad of his thumb stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry your grandfather died.”

  “I’m sorry I wasna here,” she whispered.

  “He wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer, too, love. I’m sure of it.”

  She knew his words were meant to be comforting, but they simply started another storm of emotion. When he bent and slipped one arm beneath her legs to pick her up, she didn’t argue. She just wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t even find the strength to protest when he sat down on the bench outside the front door and placed her on his lap.

  His strong arms enfolded her and pulled her close as his hand pressed her head into his shoulder. He reached into his pocket with the other, retrieved his handkerchief, and handed it to her.

  “Tired of me drownin’ yer shirt, are ye, Lord Benjamin?” she asked quietly.

  A chuckle rumbled through his body. She moved to sit up, but his arms still enfolded her. “Not yet,” he said. “I was just getting comfortable.”

  “My friends would say this is highly improper, what with me sittin’ on yer lap and all.”

  “Then I’m really glad they’re not here.” Another laugh moved through his body. Then his lips touched her forehead.

  “They’re all angry with me anyway,” she said as she blew the hair from her eyes.

  “I’m sure they’re not angry,” he tried to assure her.

  “Ye dinna see the look on Caitrin’s face. Do ye ken she tried ta make me leave with her?”

  “She wouldn’t dare!” he cried in mock dismay.

  Elspeth simply raised her head and swatted his chest with her fist. “Ye’re no’ so funny, ye know,” she mumbled. “Ye’re mighty handsome. But no’ so funny.”

  “I can’t be perfect,” he said, his eyes dancing with mirth when they met hers. He brushed her hair back over her ear. “Your hair is beautiful down around your shoulders.”

  Elspeth’s hands flew to the top of her head. “My combs!” she cried. “My combs are gone.” She jumped to her feet. How could she have lost them? Tears stung her eyes again as they started to fall. How could she have lost her grandfather and all she had left of her mother in the same night?

  She rushed into the house and spun around. Thankfully he hadn’t followed her. Elspeth closed her eyes and opened her hand. “Faigh, faigh, faigh. Còmhnadh.”

  Then she peeked open one eye. Nothing sat in her palm. Wherever the combs were, they were too far away for her summoning spell to work. Then again, she was distraught; perhaps her concentration was off.

  Lord Benjamin stood in the doorway, watching her. She didn’t have time to think about what he thought. She checked the floor and the small table. She searched beside her grandfather’s bed, by the mirrors she’d covered, and by the windows she’d opened. But the combs were nowhere to be found. How could she have been so foolish?

  “They’re gone,” she cried, as the last bit of hope escaped her.

  “It’s all right.” He took her shoulders in his strong hands and forced her to look at him.

  “It’s no’ all right. They’re all I have of her.”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes. “I’ll find them,” he promised.

  “The ball?” she asked as she motioned toward the door.

  “You had them when we left the ball. I’ll go back and find them.” The strength in his gaze startled her, leaving her speechless. “I’ll find them. No matter what.”

  All she could do was nod. Then he was gone.

  Ten

  BEN RAN ACROSS THE MEADOW BEHIND HER HOUSE. HE ran as fast as he could. The haunted look in her eyes was fresh in his mind. He knew it was the loss of her grandfather, not her hair combs, that she was truly concerned about. The trinkets were something for her to fret over, but he was bound and determined to find them anyway. They meant the world to her, and he’d make sure it was one less thing she had to worry about.

  Ben followed his nose into the woods, tracking Miss Campbell’s scent and his own, retracing their steps. The night closed around him like a shroud, the trees blocking all evidence of the moon. But he knew it was there. He finally felt it. He finally felt something.

  He searched the darkness, looking for the glitter of the pewter combs, hoping they would present themselves. If not, he’d look all the way to the light of day. He wouldn’t let her down. He simply could not.

  He was a bit ashamed to admit how much he’d enjoyed holding her in his lap, feeling the soft angles of her body pressed against him. He’d tamped down his desire and simply allowed himself the pleasure of comforting her. She had needed him at that moment. But for some reason, he felt he needed her, too.

  Then something caught his eye against a large moss-covered rock. He bent and picked up one pewter wolf. He smiled up at the crescent moon. One down. One to go. He pocketed the comb, then knelt beside the rock and patted the ground.

  Nothing.

&nb
sp; He finally stood and dusted the dirt from his knees. What were the odds that the two combs would have landed in the same place anyway? He went back to following their scent, heading in the direction of the Fergusons’ mansion.

  Just as the sun broke the horizon, he heard church bells ringing off in the distance. Then he spotted the second comb. It must have fallen from her hair as soon as they’d started to run. He picked it up with a smile and added it to his pocket with its mate. He was gratified to feel the heavy weight of the pewter wolves in his pocket.

  He ran at a leisurely pace back to her home. The sun was up now, so he took in the tidy but small appearance of her cottage. But what caught his attention was the coach out front. He slowed to a walk and peered around the corner of the house.

  The young dark-haired chit he’d met the night before, the one who didn’t appreciate him lumping all of Scotland in as part of Britain, was just reaching the door. Her big lummox of a brother was at her side.

  “I doona ken why we have ta sit here all day,” the giant complained.

  The girl turned an irritated gaze upon her brother. “We’re here, Wallace, because El shouldna be alone. Someone has ta sit with Mr. Campbell. We’ll all be takin’ turns. And Caitrin specifically asked for yer assistance.”

  “She did?” He brightened just a bit. “Is Cait here, then?”

  The girl let out an exasperated sigh. “Mo chreach! Does yer every thought have ta be about Cait? No, she’s no’ here. No’ yet, anyhow.”

  The lummox’s smile widened, completely unaffected by his sister’s outrage. “But she’ll be here later.” He pounded on the door, nearly shaking the cottage to the ground.

  Ben watched the pair enter the house, then he leaned against the wall. Poor Elspeth, if those two had been designated to keep her company. Still, they were her friends, and he was… nothing. Just a fellow passing through town. Dread washed over him.

  He pushed himself off the wall and started for the door. He had hair combs to return. Then he would start his search for Rosewyth Campbell.

  Ben ambled up the front step and knocked lightly. A moment later the dark-haired chit pulled the door open, and her jaw dropped. “What’re… I mean, Lord Benjamin?”