Dare, Lydia - Tall, Dark and Wolfish

Alec called from the doorway, "Come and help me, Westfield. There's food to be brought inside."

"

Food?

Where did food come from?" Elspeth asked.

Mrs. Ross lumbered into the kitchen, her girth cumbersome. "I thought ye might need some things for the feast," the woman said as she directed the men to bring in items.

Ben saw the furrow of Elspeth's brow as she looked at the bountiful feast the men carted through the door. They went back and forth and returned time and again.

Ben's heart ached for her when he saw Elspeth approach Mrs. Ross quietly and place her arm on her sleeve. "I'll have ta settle up with ye over all this food. But it may take some time."

The woman squeezed Elspeth's hands before she reached one hand out to cup her face. "No need ta fret, deary. It's been taken care of."

Elspeth spun quickly toward Caitrin. "Did yer father do this?"

Caitrin shook her head. "No, El. I doona believe he did."

Elspeth's gaze searched the other three faces of her friends, and they all denied having set it up.

"Who would have…?" Elspeth's voice trailed off as her gaze finally landed on Ben, who did his best to avoid looking at her. Certainly she wouldn't assume he was responsible for the feast, although he was.

Elspeth raised her hands to her face, and she surprised everyone in the room when sobs started to shake her shoulders. She'd put on a brave face for days. Ben was sorry to see her so upset, but happy to help her ease her burden.

Before she could even take a breath, he was across the room. He pulled her safely and snugly against his chest and stroked his hand over her hair. She settled against him like she belonged there.

"There now, Ellie," he said softly. "No one knows that it was me who paid for the feast. Nor shall they."

Caitrin ushered all the women out of the room, asking for their help outside. She left the door open, but he assumed that Cait would be outside the door, barring anyone else from entering.

"I am very, very angry at ye because of what ye said ta me last night when ye so casually referred ta someone ye had been intimate with as 'just a whore,'" Elspeth sniffled. "I've heard my mother called that horrible word my whole life." She drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Then ye had ta go and do somethin' so kind." She pounded lightly on his chest with one fist. "So I canna be mad at ye right now."

"You can come back to it later, love. I'll expect it."

"Good." She sniffled again.

He lowered his head so that he could speak right beside her ear, wishing more than anything it would reach her heart. "I'm sorry I used a word that's so painful for you. It was a poor choice, and I'll never even use the word again myself. In any circumstance."

He barely felt her nod against his chest, her acquiescence was so small. But it was a start. He simply held her for a moment, enjoying the sensation of her body pressed against him. But he knew he would have to let her go or risk ruining her. He brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and kissed her lips softly, gratified when she kissed him back. "I hear footsteps," he whispered with a grin, before he stepped back from her and busied himself with arranging more of the chairs.

"I'll repay the favor, Lord Benjamin," she said. To the casual observer, it sounded like she was simply thanking him for all his help.

"Perhaps I'll take it out in trade, Miss Campbell." His eyes danced at her, and she couldn't hide the blush that stained her cheeks. "I could be in need of healing."

Elspeth barely heard the words the vicar, Mr. Crawford, said in the church. Her mind was too occupied with reflections of her grandfather. The way he'd tell her stories when she was a young girl, sitting on his knee. The way he'd always let her win at loo. The way he'd draped his arm around her shoulders and tell her that great things were going to happen in her life.

Since she didn't have a father, her grandfather had filled that role, until now. It had been hard watching him wither away over the last year. At least now he would have the peace that had eluded him since his illness had set in.

Before Elspeth knew it, Mr. Crawford had finished his speech and the men from town lined up to take turns walking the coffin to the churchyard. The women, as always, weren't allowed.

One by one the townspeople filed out of the church, but Elspeth remained in her seat. She should rush back home and make sure everything was ready for the feast. She just couldn't muster the energy to do so.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to see Caitrin and the others standing behind her. "Are ye ready, El?"

She nodded, though she didn't really feel ready.

Caitrin linked arms with her on one side while Rhiannon took the other. They stepped out into the bright sunlight, and Elspeth managed a smile. "Did ye have anythin' ta do with the weather?"

Rhiannon looked bashfully away. "Personally, I felt like rain, but Mr. Campbell was always so cheerful. I thought he'd prefer it this way."

"And," Caitrin added, "it would be terribly inconvenient ta host an outdoor feast in a downpour."

Rhiannon giggled. "Aye, that's true as well."

The five of them started back toward Elspeth's cottage.

Twenty-one

Ben leaned against an old oak tree, keeping Elspeth's cottage in sight. His current position was about as far away as he could get and still hear her voice, though she did very little of the talking.

Sorcha Ferguson chatted nonstop, like a ninny. Ben had the feeling the chit thought if she stopped talking, Elspeth would dissolve into a puddle of tears. Maybe she was right.

"…and he always had butterscotch candies in his pocket. Every time I saw him he'd give me a piece of candy. 'And how are ye feelin' today, Sorcha?' he would ask me. Then he'd sit back in his chair and let me prattle on and on about Mama being overly strict and Wallace no' being fair—"

"

Havers

, Sorcha!" one of the other witches said. Ben wasn't certain which. "Is it possible for ye ta keep yer trap closed for five minutes? I canna even hear myself think."

He heard Elspeth take in a sharp breath and he started forward. What was the matter with these women? They fought like sisters. In just a few strides he was in front of the cottage and knocked lightly on the door.

Naturally it was Miss Macleod who answered, with her perfected sneer. "What a surprise."

Ben wouldn't allow her to bait him; Elspeth didn't need that right now. He looked past her and found his little witch standing in the middle of the room. Her eyes seemed to sparkle when they landed on him.

"Ellie," he said with a smile. "Why don't you come for a walk with me?"

"There's so much ta do," Caitrin Macleod cut in.

The little liar. All the food was out as well as the tables and chairs. Plates, cups, and utensils were simply waiting for the hoard to arrive. Elspeth wouldn't get another break until afterward. "Well, Miss Macleod," he replied smoothly, "I'm certain the four of you won't mind finishing up whatever it is that needs Elspeth's attention, would you?"

There was no other answer she could give other than to nod and, of course, glare at him.

Ben paid her no attention. He outstretched an arm and waited for Elspeth to come to him. The look of relief as she moved toward him was thanks enough.

He tucked her hand around his arm and led her toward the scenic path she'd pointed out earlier.

"Ye canna be gone long," one of the others called after them.

"I'll have her back in plenty of time."

Once they were out of earshot from the others, Elspeth looked up at him and smiled. "How did ye ken I needed an escape?"

Ben squeezed her fingers. "I didn't for sure. But if I'd been in there with those harpies, I would have needed an escape."