by Lydia Dare
Winning! Ben would see to it that the only thing Will would win was a broken nose. He rose to his full height, then marched out the door, with Will following in his wake.
As soon as they were out on the dimly lit street, Ben grasped Will’s jacket and forced him up against the stone façade of the hell. “Did you put her on a coach headed back to Edinburgh? Tell me, or I’ll snap your neck.”
Will’s light blue eyes glared daggers at him. “You have three seconds, little brother, to remove your hands from my person.”
“Where is she?” Ben hissed again.
Will twisted from his grasp and pushed him with such force that Ben stumbled into the street. He looked up just in time to see a carriage led by matched greys about to trample him. He leapt out of the way, but the coach clipped his arm and spun him back to the ground.
“Agh!” he howled.
The pain from his shoulder spiked down his arm and across his back. He rolled out of the street back to the safety of the walk, groaning and grasping his bad arm with his good one. He wasn’t unaccustomed to pain, but as a Lycan, it never lasted long. Not until now.
Will stood above him, glowering. “Don’t be a baby, Benjamin. You brought this fight.”
He winced when he felt a sticky wetness through his jacket. Still, the pain in his arm was dull in comparison to the loss of Elspeth. “Tell me what you did with her, William.”
Will heaved a sigh. “I’m sure she’s patiently awaiting your pathetic hide at home, though I have no idea why she puts up with you.”
Ben shook his head. “No, she’s gone. And you took her from me. Clarke said you rode off together.”
Will scoffed. “I took her to Canis House. Forster was going to return her home after they looked through some records.”
His heart ached as her letter echoed in his mind. “She left me, Will. She left a note. She’s not coming back.”
“What?” Will asked, surprise in his voice. “I knew she was upset, but I didn’t think she’d take it that far, not without giving you the chance to come to your senses.” He looked down at Ben with a mix of sympathy and disgust.
“Why was she upset?”
Will heaved a sigh and pulled Ben back to his feet. He couldn’t hide the painful grunt that escaped him. Will’s expression turned to confusion. “You’re not healed yet?”
Ben shook his head. He wasn’t healed. Not his arm. Not the Lycan in him. Not his heart. “Why was she upset?”
“Why haven’t you healed?” He heard the panic in his brother’s voice.
Ben didn’t have it in him to hide from the truth anymore. “Because I’m broken, Will. I can’t transform, and I can’t heal myself.” His eyes dropped to the ground, escaping the look of pity that must be in his brother’s eyes. “Why was Ellie upset?”
“I tried to tell you this afternoon. She heard us talking, you and me. She heard you say you couldn’t love her.”
What had he done? His poor Ellie! He’d never meant to hurt her. If Will had plunged a knife into Ben’s chest, it would have been less painful. “Oh, dear God.”
“I told her you didn’t know what you were talking about,” Will explained. “I told her to give you time.”
Ben glowered. “Don’t speak for me, William. I know exactly what I’m talking about. I just wish she hadn’t heard.” Ellie was the kindest soul he knew. He would never have inflicted such pain. It was the reason he kept himself from giving her his heart, to keep from hurting her.
“You’re an even bigger fool than I’ve always thought.”
No matter what, she was still his wife, and Ben wouldn’t let her leave him. He turned his back on his brother and hailed a hack, still clasping his arm, which he was certain was broken. He barked out an address. Perhaps Major Forster knew where she was headed.
Forty-three
ELSPETH BLINKED HER EYES OPEN, LIGHT FROM THE HALF-moon filtered in through the window. Where was she? After rubbing her eyes, she yawned.
“Awake, dear?” the major’s voice asked from the darkness.
She sucked in a surprised breath and managed to sit up in the bed. “Major Forster?”
He stepped out of the shadows and sat on the edge of her bed. “You gave me quite the scare.”
“Where am I?”
“In my apartments at Canis House. Would you like some tea?”
She nodded. Her throat was a bit parched.
“I sent word to Benjamin so he wouldn’t worry.” He walked to the corner of the room and tugged the bell pull.
A lump formed in her throat and tears streamed down her cheeks. Now Ben would know where to find her. “I-I wish ye hadna done that.”
The major turned back to her and noticed her distress. “What is it, Lady Elspeth?”
She choked on a strangled laugh. The major was her father and yet he called her Lady Elspeth. Ben was her husband and yet he didn’t love her. How had her life become such a tangled mess?
He rushed forward and pounded on her back, a bit more forcefully than was needed. “Are you all right?”
Elspeth nodded, though tears poured from her eyes.
The major seemed at a complete loss, as though women crying in his presence were a new experience for him. “What can I do?” he asked, offering her his handkerchief.
“I-I doona want ta see Ben,” she managed to get out.
“All right,” he agreed quickly. “Just please stop crying.”
Elspeth blew her nose in the handkerchief and tried to bring her sobs under control. Thinking about Ben would only make her cry harder. “Tell me about yerself.”
Even in the dark room she could tell that his dark eyes warmed a bit. “What do you want to know, dear?”
She dabbed the tears on her cheeks. “I doona ken. Anythin’, everythin’. I doona ken the first thing about ye.”
Again the major sat at the edge of her bed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Ye said ye were from Glasgow?”
He nodded. “Aye, but most of my life has been spent in England or on one battlefield or another.”
She listened quietly as he talked, not wanting to miss one detail.
“I went off to Harrow as a young lad. My mother’s family had a tidy sum and wanted me educated in England’s finest schools. They wanted me to go on to Cambridge, but I bought my commission instead. I was stationed in Canada, then on the Continent. After Waterloo I sold my commission. I’ve been heading up the Lycanian Society ever since.”
“In Glasgow ye’d heard tales of the Còig?”
His answer was interrupted when a scratch sounded at the door. “Come,” he called.
A young girl in a mop cap pushed open the door, carrying a tea service, and placed it on a bedside table. When she left, the major rose from his seat and started to pour. “How do you take it?”
“Two sugars, please.”
He returned to the bed and handed her a cup. “Just like Rose. I should have known.”
The mention of her mother made Elspeth frown. “Did ye say Mama never summoned ye? Her journal said otherwise.”
The major sighed and settled his large frame in a seat near the bed. “How would she have even known how to get in touch with me, lass? I didn’t have a permanent address. If she sent me letters, I never received them.”
“But she used a summoning spell. I-it drained what was left of her strength.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she hadn’t said them. He looked as if she’d struck him.
“Trying to find me?” he whispered in horror. “Oh, my poor Rose.”
His anguish brought fresh tears to her eyes, and she didn’t try to stop them as they trailed down her cheeks. Even here and now in a dimly lit room, she could see the love and pain reflected in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she offered numbly.
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“She resisted the vision ta stay with the coven.” It was a strong pull. One that Elspeth could understand, one that she should have fo
llowed herself.
“Resisted the vision?” he echoed. “No, lass. She wasn’t supposed to go with me. That vision was why she wouldn’t budge.”
That didn’t make any sense. Elspeth sat up straight. “But that’s no’ what Cait said.”
“Cait?”
“Our seer. Caitrin Macleod. She said her mother saw ye come for Mama and that ye’d take her away. It was the same vision Cait saw about… Ben.”
It was painful even to say his name, and Elspeth swallowed the ache that formed in her throat. Did the major—her father—remember the past differently?
He shook his head, and his eyes darkened. “No. Fiona Macleod said that I would come for Rose but that she would stay with the Còig and resist the temptation. I’ve heard it echoed in my heart every night since, Elspeth.”
An awful thought entered her mind. Mrs. Macleod wouldn’t…? But it was the only thing that made sense. “Why would she lie?” she muttered under her breath.
But with his Lycan hearing, her father heard her. “To keep Rose. To keep their coven intact.”
Even Cait wouldn’t do such a terribly selfish thing.
Elspeth’s heart plummeted. All those years she and her mother had been alone. All those years that her mother spent mourning him, he’d apparently spent mourning her, too. She’d grown up with a stigma that she could never live down, no matter how many people came to her for help. All those years they could have been together. It was a waste.
“Did ye really marry her?” she asked softly.
His eyes met hers and he nodded. “I still have the license.”
Another scratch came at the door. The major’s eyes never left hers, and another wave of sadness washed over Elspeth. All the years they’d lost weren’t his fault. All the years she’d spent blaming him were in vain.
“Come,” her father called.
The same little maid pushed the door open. “Major, Lord Benjamin would like to see Lady Elspeth.”
She drew in a breath and shook her head. “I canna see him.”
“What did he do to you?” her father asked, his brow furrowed.
Elspeth simply shook her head. “Please.”
He glanced at the maid. “Tell Lord Benjamin I’ll be there shortly.”
When she shut the door, he turned his attention back to Elspeth. “Did he hurt you?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Not in the way you mean. He… he doesna care for me. Please, I doona want ta see him.”
“Then he won’t bother you.” The major rose from his spot and left her alone.
Ben paced around the private drawing room, thanking God once again that he’d received the note from Forster. Ellie was safe. He could still make things right.
How could he explain things to her so that she’d understand? That question had plagued him the entire ride to Canis House, which wasn’t terribly easy with a broken arm. Though now that he was here, he no longer noticed the throb in his arm. All he wanted was the opportunity to see his wife.
“Benjamin,” Major Forster said from behind him.
He spun around. “Oh, Major. Thank you so much for the note. I was half out of my mind with worry.”
The major frowned at him. “She’s not up to seeing you right now, Ben.”
“What do you mean? Is she all right?” Ben growled.
“No need to show your teeth, pup. She’s fine.” The major didn’t growl, but his voice held a subtle warning nonetheless. A gust of wind blew as the door flew open behind them and Will burst through. “Nice to see you, too, William.” The major shook his head.
“Why did you come here?” Ben snarled.
“Because you left a trail of blood in your wake that a blind wolf could follow. I don’t care how much you hate me right now. I’ll not leave you when you’re injured.”
“Injured?” the major scoffed. “His heart is not involved with my daughter, from what she tells me. So I doubt Elspeth’s leaving has caused him any injury.”
“Your daughter?” Will and Ben asked in chorus.
The major ignored their question and turned to pour a drink.
Ben weaved a bit unsteadily on his feet as he moved toward the major, a growl stuck in his throat.
“Look at you, Ben,” Will said. “You can’t even walk.” Then he turned to the major. “Why isn’t his injury healing?”
“Injury?” the major echoed. The sound of Will’s teeth as they ground together was the only noise in the room. The major looked down at the floor, where a steady drip of blood ran from beneath the sleeve of Ben’s jacket to hit the rug at his feet. “You’re truly injured? And have not healed?”
Ben nodded weakly.
“You should have told me,” he said.
“You were having such a grand time bringing me to heel, I didn’t want to ruin your fun,” Ben breathed out, gasping in pain as the men pulled his jacket from his shoulders to get a better look at the wound.
Darkness clouded the corners of his vision. Thankfully, Will hooked one foot around the leg of a chair and drew it near, just before Ben would have swooned and hit the ground.
“Honestly, Ben,” Will chided, his eyes clouded with worry. “I would think you were wearing garters if you didn’t have all that blood dripping from your body.” As they finally removed his jacket, Will whistled softly when he saw the way Ben’s shirt was stained with blood, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle.
“The day I wear garters is the day you’ll marry Prisca Hawthorne.”
“Not bloody likely,” Will whispered.
“Exactly,” Ben hissed as they adjusted his broken arm. Will finally gave up and ripped the shirt cleanly from his body. Why hadn’t they thought of that earlier? It was much less painful.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Will said as he tested the edges of the deep wound.
The major called to a maid in the corridor. “Have one of the men fetch the doctor, will you?”
But then Ben was called from his weak stupor as he heard a voice with a lilting Scottish brogue say, “No need. I can heal him myself.”
She looked so beautiful there in the doorway that Ben could barely get his breath. She’d removed her combs, and her hair hung wildly about her shoulders. Her image swam before his eyes. “Elspeth,” he breathed. “You will not heal me.”
“No man has ever told me what ta do, Benjamin Westfield. And I’ll no’ start with ye.” She walked toward him slowly. Her image split into two. He shook his head.
“I’ll not let you put yourself at risk,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen how it affects you.”
“I’ll no’ let ye be injured when I can help ye.” She gestured toward the settee. “Can ye move him so he can lie down, please? He’s about ta fall from the chair.”
Will moved to help and barely caught him as he did just that. Then darkness was all Ben knew from that moment forward.
Forty-four
ELSPETH DID HER BEST TO FIGHT THE PANIC AS SHE descended the stairs. She’d already known something was wrong with him; she’d felt it in her soul. She didn’t understand the connection they had, since he professed not to love her, but they were tied to each other, regardless.
When they’d settled his big body on the settee, Ben was so deeply unconscious that he’d not uttered a sound.
“Ye say a Lycan can normally heal his own self?” she asked the men.
“Yes, we heal almost immediately. I’ve never known anyone who is unable to heal. Have you?” Will asked the major.
Major Forster got a faraway look in his eye before he shook it off and said, “Yes. I have seen it. It’s rare, but it happens.”
“What causes it?” Will asked as she gently probed the wound. Ben didn’t even move beneath her fingers. She halfheartedly listened to the response.
“Usually an imbalance. Some unrest within the soul. Or the heart, as the case may be. It’s often an event that tests a Lycan’s confidence and weakens him. It’s not in a corporeal sense. It’s internal. And it can be d
eadly to one of our kind if we can’t find a healer.”
“Can you heal him, Elspeth?” Will asked.
“Aye, I can.” There was no doubt in her mind. She could heal him and make him whole, in body and in spirit. She wished she’d realized it before. The answer could not be found in blueberries, flower-scented baths, or potions. All she had to do was love him. And make him believe it. “Can ye give me a moment alone with him?”
“Why?” Will wanted to know.
She smiled a gentle smile at him. “Because I need ye ta leave us be. And let me do my work.”
“We’ll be a few steps outside, Elspeth. So call if you need us.”
“Aye, I can already imagine ye passin’ each other in the corridor as ye pace in opposite directions. Go on, now. Out.” She pushed her hands at them impatiently.
When they were gone, Elspeth took a moment to look at Ben’s sleeping form. She brushed the hair back from his forehead. He looked as peaceful as a child.
Then she touched her hands to the area of his wound, bringing the edges of the gaping cut together with her fingertips. She closed her eyes and focused all of her power on the job she had to do. His flesh warmed and slowly knitted together. The edges of the wound went from red and jagged to being completely healed. She lifted her hands and was quite content with what she saw.
Ben still slept peacefully. She touched his arm above the break with one hand and below it with the other. When it was completely healed, she tested his arm by bending it at the elbow. She stopped to smile at her own work.
But she wasn’t done. There was more that needed to be healed. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before. She placed her hand above his heart. Her power immediately flowed into him, as though this was what his body waited for, what his soul yearned for. Her palm heated against him as her power flowed into him, and she imagined it moving through his body, nourishing his soul and feeding his needs.
Elspeth tried to open her eyes so that she could gaze upon him as she fixed him, fixed her broken wolf. But her lids refused to lift. Her power continued to wash into him, now pulsing through his entire being. She felt the pieces of him that were broken unfurl. She felt the insecurity vanish. She felt the doubts and fears about himself and his ability to control his Lycan side replaced by her healing warmth.