Never Been Bit

by Lydia Dare

  Sorcha giggled and very softly kissed his lips. “Ye are already dead, Alec.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The morning sunlight cast a golden hue across the grounds of Castle Hythe. But all Alec could see was blackness before him. He towered over Caitrin and scowled, gesturing to his perfectly appointed coach. “I have my own carriage, Lady Eynsford, and I am more than capable of transporting my fiancée to her father’s doorstep by myself.”

  With an arrogance that matched her husband’s, Cait tipped her head back and smiled as though Alec was the country’s largest dolt. “And yet ye’ll be travelin’ with Dash and me just the same.” She gestured to her own coach, parked directly in front of his. “I’ve seen it, Alec.”

  And had she seen Alec strangling her pretty little neck too? “Don’t think for one moment that you can use your powers to get your way in this, Caitrin. And I’m far past the days when you could manipulate me with a smile and a kind word.”

  Her smile broadened. “I am so glad ta hear it, Mr. MacQuarrie. However, as we are all part of the same circle, or will be soon enough, this little excursion will give us plenty of time for ye and Dash ta become friends along the way. We all need ta be in harmony.”

  “Friends?” Alec somehow managed not to snort. “Did your gift suddenly change into something that gives you the power to have your way?” He tapped his chin with the tip of his index finger. Then he drawled sarcastically, “Oh, nay, I nearly forgot. You always get your way regardless. But not in this, Cait.” He shook his head vehemently.

  “We all need ta be in harmony,” she said again, as though he hadn’t heard her the first time. “If we’re no’…”

  She shrugged. “Well, then our powers tend ta be a bit faulty. Someone could get hurt. I’d hate ta be around Rhi if lightnin’ started explodin’ every which way.” She cringed. “And ye canna imagine the damage Sorcha can cause with plants. Ye’ll have ta ask Benjamin about it some time.”

  Benjamin. Alec hadn’t given his old friend another thought since his conversation with Sorcha on their return from Folkestone. They all needed to be in harmony? He wasn’t certain he could ever be in harmony with either Benjamin or Eynsford. Perhaps he and Sorcha could escape to the continent instead of returning to Scotland.

  The Mediterranean had to be nice this time of year.

  “Doona even think about it, MacQuarrie.” Cait narrowed her clear blue eyes at him.

  “You can’t possibly know what I’m thinking.”

  “Oh, I ken ye and I ken how yer mind works. I also ken ye would never take Sorcha away from her father or her brother or from her coven.”

  He absolutely hated that she was right about that. Once again, he should have been less of a gentleman.

  “Ah, look,” Cait gestured toward the main castle door, “here’s yer bride now.”

  Alec glanced over his shoulder to find Sorcha striding in their direction, her arm linked with that of the duchess’ granddaughter. The sun glinted off Sorcha’s brown locks, making her glow like an angel, and he couldn’t help but smile. But at the forefront of his mind was the way Eynsford had thwarted his amorous attentions less than an hour earlier. “If we travel with you, Caitrin, I will not have that beast of a husband of yours interfering with my plans.”

  “And which plans would those be?” Cait crossed her arms and glared at him.

  Of course, she knew his plan was to devour Sorcha at every opportunity. He’d had her in his bed, for God’s sake.

  He’d seen her very nearly naked. Had watched her find completion at his hands. Alec adjusted the fit of his trousers. “Never mind,” he mumbled.

  “As long as ye’re a gentleman, Alec, there’ll be no need for Dash ta try ta interfere.” Cait brushed past him toward the approaching ladies.

  The duchess’ granddaughter talked quietly with Sorcha.

  “Travel safe.” Lady Madeline squeezed Sorcha’s hand in farewell.

  “I will. And promise ta keep an eye out for any lurkin’ scoundrels.”

  Lady Madeline laughed. “I will miss you.”

  “I’ll see ye in London for the season,” Sorcha promised.

  Alec supposed that was true. He couldn’t remember a season he hadn’t spent in London. How different the next one would be.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Lady Madeline folded her arms across her middle, as though to comfort herself.

  Caitrin draped her arm around Sorcha’s shoulders and led her down the gravel path toward Alec and the pair of traveling coaches. Sorcha’s eyes sought Alec’s. If he’d needed to breathe, she would have stolen his breath when she smiled at him.

  Within a minute, the two witches stood before him.

  Youthful exuberance rolled off Sorcha in waves. “Have ye really agreed ta travel with Cait and Lord Eynsford?”

  “Aye, he has,” Cait answered before Alec could respond.

  “He pressed upon me how important it is ta him that he and Dash get along from now on, that our circle remains strong.”

  He was about to call the blond seer out for the liar she was, but Sorcha slid her arms around his waist and looked up at him, more than pleased. “Ye are so wonderful, Alec.”

  When she spoke, all he could think about was those wonderfully seductive noises she’d made in his chambers earlier. Would traveling with Cait and that blasted Lycan make her happy? He supposed, when one considered all she was giving up to marry him, that traveling with them was the least he could do. “Not wonderful,” he corrected.

  “Conniving, lass. It is in my best interest to keep you happy, isn’t it?”

  “Forbes and Maggie can ride in Alec’s conveyance along with my servants,” Cait decided for them all. “Then the two of ye can share our coach.”

  “Perfect solution, angel.” Eynsford appeared out of nowhere to drape an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

  Where had the blackguard been? Had he overheard every blasted word Alec and Cait had shared? Most likely. After all, the man rarely let Cait out of his sight. The eavesdropping Lycan did not make it easy for Alec to even consider getting along with the man.

  “I’d like ta get home as soon as possible,” Sorcha said, releasing her hold on Alec.

  His first thought was to toss her over his shoulder and whisk her away to Scotland on his own. They could be there in a matter of hours with his superior speed, but for some reason it seemed important to her that he try to make peace with Eynsford. Was that the harmony nonsense Cait mentioned?

  “We’ll go as fast as possible, lass.” Eynsford winked at Sorcha.

  If the Lycan thought he’d wink at Sorcha all the way to Edinburgh, he was greatly mistaken. Vampyres were stronger than Lycans, something Alec had been very happy to learn the previous spring, and he was not above proving the fact to Eynsford.

  “Dash,” Cait chimed in, as though she knew the direction of Alec’s thoughts, “we should probably be on our way.”

  “You are right, of course, Caitie.”

  *

  Sorcha snuggled against Alec and loved it when he pulled her closer on the coach bench. Ever since that morning when he’d kissed her, caressed her, and touched her in places she’d never dreamt existed, Sorcha had wanted to be at his side. Actually, she wanted to have him all to herself. There were things left unsaid, things left undone.

  Though she knew Cait was right about their traveling situation. Traveling alone with Alec would be highly inappropriate, no matter how much she might enjoy it.

  She looked up at his strong jaw and remembered the wonderful things his lips had done earlier that day. He was hers. He was destined to be hers. Cait had seen it. The whole idea was still difficult to fathom, but Sorcha’s heart leapt at the thought. No wonder Cait had been so adamant that Sorcha wouldn’t marry a Lycan. She was supposed to marry Alec. And now that she knew the truth of that, it seemed so right, so fitting. And if there was more to experience in his arms—and she had a feeling there was— the rest of their lives was going to be more than wonderful,
more than perfect.

  Their lives.

  Havers! If things remained as they were, Alec would live on and she would not. She shook her head. Since Alec was destined to be hers, he must transform the same way Lords Kettering and Blodswell had. She pressed her head closer to his chest and listened for the beat of his heart with all her might. But there was nothing, nothing she could hear anyway.

  “Sorch?” Alec asked, “Are you all right?”

  She sat up and nodded quickly. “Of course.”

  He frowned slightly but tugged her back against him.

  Across the coach, Lord Eynsford snored slightly and Cait flipped through the most recent edition of La Belle Assemblée, but she had a greenish hue about her face.

  Sorcha leaned forward and touched her friend’s knee. “Are ye feelin’ all right, Cait?”

  Cait dropped the periodical to her lap, looking positively miserable. She shook her head, and Alec promptly tapped on the carriage roof to signal the driver to stop. The jarring motion did nothing to help Cait’s unfortunate color.

  Before Alec could even help her down or Eynsford could fully wake, Cait tumbled out of the carriage and cast up her accounts mere inches from the coach.

  “Havers!” Sorcha cried as she moved to follow her.

  Eynsford moved to accompany them, but Sorcha tossed him a smile, said, “I’ll alert ye if we need ye,” and closed the door promptly in his face. The sputtering noise Eynsford made was priceless.

  Sorcha reached into her sleeve, pulled out a handkerchief, and passed it to Cait, who smiled weakly as she wiped her face. Sorcha couldn’t help but giggle over the marquess’ look of confoundment.

  “I’m so glad ye find my situation so humorous,” Cait groused.

  “I was laughin’ at yer husband, ye ninny.” Sorcha gently rubbed Cait’s back. “Are ye feelin’ better?”

  “A little,” the older witch admitted.

  “Ye were lookin’ a might bit green back there. Was it somethin’ ye ate?”

  Her natural color slowly returning, Cait grinned and took Sorcha’s arm and then pulled her away from the coach.

  “Where are we goin’?” Sorcha asked as they got farther and farther away.

  “I need ta tell someone,” Cait hissed at her.

  “Tell someone what?”

  Cait raised a finger to her lips. “Whisper. Otherwise Dash will hear everythin’ ye say.”

  “Alec too,” Sorcha confided with a heavy sigh. “Though maybe he can hear whispers, as well. I’ll have ta ask him.”

  “I had no idea vampyres could hear so well.” Cait looked surprised.

  “Vampyres are quite amazin’ in their own right,” Sorcha said with pride, as though she possessed the powers herself.

  “I doona ken much about them.”

  “Me neither, but I plan ta learn.” Heat crept up Sorcha’s face as she realized Cait’s husband had probably already told his wife what she’d been doing with Alec behind closed doors.

  “Rumor has it that ye’ve already learned quite a bit.” Cait smiled broadly.

  “Yer husband is a menace,” Sorcha mumbled.

  “My husband has yer best interests at heart.” Her friend giggled.

  “Anythin’ he can do ta thwart Alec seems ta give him pleasure.”

  Cait shook her head. “He’d actually prefer not ta be involved at all. I’m the one who sent him ta Alec’s room.”

  Traitorous witch! “How could ye?” Sorcha gasped.

  “Someone has ta protect ye. Ye’re dead set on givin’ yerself away.” Cait shot her a telling glance. “I assume ye no longer have the need of anyone tellin’ ye what happens in a marriage bed, now do ye?”

  Sorcha took a deep breath. Truly, none of this was Cait’s concern. Sorcha didn’t hound her for intimate details. Well, she had asked for marriage-bed advice, which Cait had firmly refused to give her. “Were ye no’ casting up yer accounts just a moment ago? How did this become about me?” She pointed to her own chest. Then she turned to walk back toward the coach. “I’ll send yer husband ta ye,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Doona go!” Cait cried. Then she whispered vehemently, “I have ta tell someone.” Sorcha turned back toward her. “I have ta keep so many secrets about futures! I want ta blab ta the whole world about mine.”

  Sorcha took a few steps in her direction and whispered back, “What kind of a secret?”

  Cait placed a hand on her belly and said, “I think I might be expectin’.”

  “Expectin’ ta cast up yer accounts again? I’ll go get yer husband for ye.” Sorcha never had been one for sickness.

  She had a much too sympathetic stomach.

  “No!” Cait cried. Sorcha saw the curtain move inside the coach as Lord Eynsford’s head came into view. Nosy man.

  Cait glared at him and motioned for him to close it. He did so, but he didn’t look very happy about it. Cait dropped her voice back to a whisper. “I think I’m expectin’ a bairn.”

  Tears immediately pricked at the back of Sorcha’s lashes. “A bairn?” she squeaked.

  “Shh!” Cait fluttered her arms wildly, trying to get Sorcha to quiet.

  “Oh, sorry!” Sorcha whispered as she folded Cait into her arms. “I canna believe it. I’m just so excited! I’m goin’ ta be an aunt again.” Then she narrowed her eyes at Cait. “Ye havena told yer husband?”

  “No’ yet. I want ta be certain.” Cait laid her hand protectively over her belly again.

  For a woman who saw everyone’s future but her own, something like this must be driving Cait mad. Still… “With the way ye were castin’ up yer accounts back there, I’d say it’s fairly likely. Ye never get travel sick.”

  “I think so too,” Cait said with a smile. “But I want ta wait a bit ta be certain. So, doona tell anyone. No’ even Alec.”

  As though Alec would want ta know that the lass to whom he’d given his heart was carrying someone else’s child. “I’ll no’ say a word.” Then a brilliant idea flashed into Sorcha’s mind. She narrowed her eyes at Cait. “If…” She let her voice trail off.

  “If what?” Cait shot back, her blue eyes rounded in shock.

  “If ye’ll call off yer dog.”

  Cait looked more than mildly affronted. “Beg yer pardon?”

  “Call Eynsford off. Doona send him chasin’ after Alec and me. Let my future happen all on its own, without interference.” She paused. “Please?”

  “I canna believe ye called him a dog.” Cait grunted.

  “If the collar fits,” Sorcha tossed back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alec sat across from the Marquess of Eynsford in the carriage and struggled to hear what the pair of witches were talking about. He caught a word here and there, but not very many. And what he did hear didn’t mean much.

  “Your wife is a cunning woman,” Alec tossed out into the silence of the coach.

  “If cunning and conniving mean the same thing, then yes, she is,” Eynsford replied. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”

  Alec shook his head. “Very little of it.” He listened for another moment, but all he could hear was Cait’s shocked gasp. “Sounds like they’re arguing.”

  “Heaven help us if they are,” the marquess grumbled.

  “I have my own coach,” Alec informed him. “I can take Sorcha and we can separate them.” He’d like nothing better than that anyway. Harmony be damned. He wanted his little witch all to himself.

  “Have you ever seen them really argue? Any of the witches? They’re scandalous.” Eynsford shivered dramatically.

  “I’ve seen them do it my whole life,” Alec reminded him.

  “That’s why I volunteered to take Sorcha to my own coach. It’s terrifying.”

  “Finally, something we agree upon,” the marquess said drolly.

  “That your wife and my fiancée are forces to be reckoned with? Aye, we’re in agreement. But do me a favor and don’t tell them that.”

  Eynsford inclined his head slight
ly.

  “While we’re speaking so openly, if you ever find yourself outside my door again and decide to intervene, I will do you bodily harm,” Alec warned. “You know I’m capable, and you should know I won’t hesitate next time.”

  “You can try.” The marquess raised one amused eyebrow. “But my wife threatened to do me bodily harm, along with several other most severe punishments, if I didn’t intervene. Unfortunately for you, her proclamations frighten me more than yours do.”

  From nowhere, a comment popped out of Alec’s mouth.

  “You love her, don’t you?” He wanted to bite it back immediately. But what was done was done.

  Eynsford laid his head back on the squabs and regarded Alec for a moment. “With all my heart,” he finally said.

  There was nothing to say to that, so Alec simply nodded once. He was glad Cait had found happiness, even if it was with the overgrown dog sitting across from him. And Eynsford seemed the most smitten of men. Still, he’d rather not have to endure the man, if given a choice.

  Devil take it! What was keeping the lasses so long?

  Argument or no argument, how could they possibly think to abandon Eynsford and himself to each other’s company?

  Alec tossed open the coach door and quickly exited, only to find Sorcha headed in his direction.

  She wore an impish smile that made all of Alec’s annoyance drain right from him. She was so full of life; she almost made him remember what it felt like to be human.

  He wanted to wrap her in his arms and revel in the energy that coursed through her. It still wasn’t too late to toss her over his shoulder and make a run for it, was it? Probably.

  But he wouldn’t rule that out for the future.

  “Everything all right?” he asked, as he closed the distance between them.

  Sorcha nodded and gestured toward Cait a few paces behind. “A little travel sick is all.”

  Behind them, Alec heard the coach groan as Eynsford alighted from the conveyance and then rushed past to take Cait’s arm. “I’ve never known you to get travel sick, angel.”

  The marquess caressed his wife’s cheek. “Is there anything I can do?”