Dare, Lydia - Tall, Dark and Wolfish

However, Alec had dropped in on him in London more times than he could count. So he felt that turnabout was fair play. In fact, the last time Alec had paid him a visit, he'd left Ben in quite a mess. He could still hear the clipped tones of Simon's voice, which spoke of his disappointment in his youngest sibling.

Being the youngest was difficult. For Ben, it meant he was never fully alone. His two older siblings constantly watched everything he did. Simon, the Duke of Blackmoor, did so in a fatherly fashion. A very strict father, who lived by a certain moral code. And Will, the middle brother, had stood back and watched Ben make a fool of himself on more than one occasion. Then he swooped out of nowhere, laughed like he'd done when they'd both been in short pants, and dusted him off. Then he stood back and let him do it all over again.

This time Ben was bound and determined to solve his little problem himself. It really wasn't a little problem, though. Not being able to change with the fullness of the moon was a huge problem for someone like him. It threw his whole life out of kilter.

And that was exactly how he felt when he stopped at the home of his oldest and dearest friend, Alec. Out of kilter. The coach pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, and Ben took a deep breath before he reached for the handle. He could do this. He could be his normal happy-go-lucky self, find the fabled witch who could heal him, and go home. Or he would do the opposite and prove the witch didn't exist. Either way, he'd had an opportunity to escape London in the wake of his recent scandal. And that alone was worth the trip.

Ben stretched his legs when he stepped out of the coach; they had never made those things big enough for men like him. The butler met him at the door, took his hat, and left him waiting in the parlor while he went to find Alec. Ben heard the stomp of booted feet as someone moved at a hurried pace down the corridor. At least Ben hadn't lost his keen sense of hearing when he'd lost his beastliness.

Ben was surprised to see that Alec was dressed in his best evening clothes. In fact, his friend wore a devil-may-care grin that made him look like quite a rake. It was a reputation well earned, much of which they'd cultivated together.

"Benjamin Westfield, is that you?" Alec said as he turned the corner. "I thought your letter said you'd be a few more days, my friend." He held out a hand to Ben.

"So you did receive my note?" Ben asked, extending his hand to shake. "I'm quite glad. I was afraid it wouldn't reach you and I would arrive without warning."

"I believe I did that to you last time I visited London, so that would have been just fine as well. Come, come," he said, motioning toward his study. "I have a bottle of whisky you can help me sample."

"You know, you didn't have to get quite so dressed up for my arrival," Ben joked as he accepted a glass of amber liquid and settled into a comfortable chair.

"I wish I could say this was for you." Alec smiled. "Alas, this is for a lady."

"Just as I thought. You've planned a night of debauchery and drinking, I assume." He crossed one foot over his knee.

Alec colored slightly. "Actually, no. I have planned a night of dancing, and if I'm lucky, I'll get a walk in the garden while I hold the girl's hand."

"

That

kind of a girl, is she?" Ben was shocked. His friend had never looked quite so discomfited to discuss a member of the opposite sex.

"That kind, aye," Alec admitted. "The kind I'm not quite sure what to do with."

"I feel sure that you'll come up with something. Where are you going?"

"The Fergusons are hosting a ball." He pulled his pocket watch from his breast pocket by the chain and flipped it open. "I have an hour yet before I'm to arrive at Miss Macleod's."

Ben grimaced. "Please tell me you're not a man besotted. I don't know what I would do with myself if my best friend shackled himself with a wife." He shivered dramatically.

"Not besotted. Just a bit intrigued. She wants nothing to do with me." Alec frowned into his whisky glass.

"Oh," Ben laughed loudly. So loudly and so long that he clutched his stomach. "A woman who won't give

you

the time of day. What a novelty!"

"It has never happened to me before, I must admit. But I do so love a challenge. Speaking of which, you should come along. The Fergusons won't mind if I bring one more, especially the brother of a duke. In fact, I am to escort a friend of Miss Macleod's as well. You can ride along and accompany her."

"When did two women become too much for you, Alec?"

The man looked shocked. "Never. I just didn't want you to feel all alone." Alec frowned. "There's a bit of scandal attached to Miss Macleod's friend, however. I hope that's not a problem for you."

"What kind of scandal?" Ben was suddenly intrigued.

"A circumstance of her birth, unfortunately," Alec sighed. "She is a bit illegitimate."

"One can't be a

bit

illegitimate, my friend. She either is or she isn't."

"Well, then she is. But she's a splendid woman. Fiery red hair. Beautiful eyes."

"All the women in these parts have red hair, don't they?" Ben threw back the last of his whisky.

"It's not quite fair to lump all Scottish women into one basket, Westfield. Miss Campbell is a very nice woman," Alec admitted.

"Campbell, did you say?" Ben instantly sat forward.

"Aye. Miss Elspeth Campbell."

How many people in Edinburgh wore the surname of Campbell? Probably hundreds. Surely this one couldn't be related to the old witch he sought. That would seem much too easy. And nothing had ever been easy for Ben Westfield before. Why should it start now?

"I'm wearing a fortnight's worth of trail dust, but if you can lead me to a bath, I assume I could make myself presentable."

"I'm afraid I've nothing to offer you to wear, so I hope you have appropriate clothing. You're much too big to wear anything of mine."

"I think I brought something that will fit the occasion."

"Just don't outdress me, old friend," Alec smiled. "I plan to turn Miss Macleod's head in

my

direction."

Ben could honestly say that for once he was much more interested in meeting his own companion than trying to steal one out from under his old friend.

"I do so hate to be a tagalong," Elspeth grumbled as she bustled about the busy bedroom. She turned to allow the maid to tie the laces of her gown.

"Ye canna be called a tagalong," Caitrin said. "I need ye. Ye have ta attend the ball, even if I have ta drag ye, kickin' and screamin'."

"Doona tempt me," Elspeth retorted as she settled into a chair and allowed the maid to brush through her long hair. She remarked to the woman, "No matter how ye pin it, it'll all be down around my shoulders within minutes. It seems ta have a life of its own."

The maid turned to pick up hairpins from the table.

"Oh, no." Elspeth stopped her and passed her the two combs that belonged to her mother. "I willna go without these."

"Then that's probably why yer hair is always so out of control," Caitrin replied absently. "Allow Jeannie ta do it up properly, will ye?"

"Certainly I will. With

these

combs," she said as she pressed them into the maid's outstretched hands. Elspeth smiled at Caitrin, who scowled from across the room. "Nothin' about me has ever been proper. I doona ken why I would start with my hair."

"I think yer definition of 'proper' is quite skewed. Ye're proper enough for us."

Elspeth knew she meant the other members of the coven. But they had no choice but to accept her. They didn't have the privilege of choosing the members. They were born into it. Elspeth had inherited her gift of healing from her mother. Just as Caitrin had inherited her visions of the future from her mother.