Dare, Lydia - Tall, Dark and Wolfish

If he had it to do over, he never would have tangled her life with his. She was kindness, compassion, and purity all rolled into one, and she deserved so much better than him. But the die was cast. He was her husband in every sense, and nothing anyone could do would change that.

So he'd have to make it up to her. If she wanted the moon, he'd find a way to catch it in a net and offer it to her. If she wanted jewels or silks, he'd keep her supplied in them for life. If she wanted to go to London… well, he supposed, they'd leave as soon as possible.

Elspeth rolled in her sleep and pressed a kiss to his chest. "I love ye, Ben," she whispered against his skin, and he felt the words deep in his soul.

He caressed her back and tangled his hands in her fiery hair. "Rest well, Ellie."

Thirty-seven

Elspeth grinned when Sorcha entered the cottage carrying a full-grown hyssop plant. "Sorry I dinna make it back yesterday, El. I got a bit caught up," her friend explained as she put the potted plant on the kitchen table.

Stepping forward, Elspeth ran her fingers over one of the pretty blue flowers. "Doona fash yerself, Sorcha. It's just fine."

The young witch glanced around the cottage. "Is Lord William no' here?"

Elspeth raised one brow. "Oh, I understand perfectly now, ye goose. Ye wanted to wait 'til ye thought his lordship was here ta bring me my hyssop."

Sorcha blushed. "He is rather handsome."

"Oh, doona start again."

Her friend giggled. "Ye're a mean witch, El. Ye have yer very own Lycan; why shouldn't I have one, too?"

"In the first place, I already told ye, Lord William is too old for ye. And secondly, from what Ben says, some English lass has hold of his heart." Though Elspeth wasn't so sure if that was true. Why would William make an

appointment

with some lass at the Thistle and Thorn if this Prisca Hawthorne woman held the strings to his heart? If Ben Westfield ever thought to do such a thing, she'd… well, what would she do? The answer hit her and she bit back a laugh. She'd turn him into a frog, like any other proper witch, of course.

"What are ye smilin' about?" Sorcha asked sourly. "I doona think it's amusin' at all."

Elspeth hugged the girl tightly. "Doona fret, dear. I'm sure Cait'll eventually tell ye who yer true love is."

Sorcha grinned. "Perhaps I should ask her specifically about Lord William."

"Aye." Elspeth rolled her eyes. "That'll go over real well. Ye ken how fond she is of Ben. I'd love ta hear ye ask her about Lord William. Just give me time ta get ta Aberdeen before ye question her, so the screaming willna hurt my ears."

At that moment, Ben walked out of the bedroom, a devilish smile across his lips. He'd obviously heard every word, and Elspeth turned away from him to hide her blush.

"Sorcha," Ben began playfully. "You're too sweet a girl to lose your heart to my scoundrel of a brother."

She didn't even have the good sense to be embarrassed that he'd caught their entire conversation. "Is there really a lass in England?" Sorcha asked, stepping closer to Ben.

He patted the top of her head. "Yes, and a wonderful lass she is, too. He broke her heart, and I won't let him do the same to you."

Sorcha furrowed her brow and twisted her lips in contemplation. "Is she very pretty?"

"

Havers

! Sorcha," Elspeth groaned, "the man is nearly twice yer age. It doesna matter if the lass is Helen of Troy or Helen of the trolls."

Her friend slumped into a seat at the table, touching one flower of the hyssop and causing it to turn brown and fall off the stem. Elspeth snatched the pot away from Sorcha and scowled. "Doona hurt my plant with yer dark mood."

Sorcha sighed. "Bring it back, I'll fix it."

Elspeth shook her head. "It's fine. Doona worry about it. And honestly, Sorch, ye just turned sixteen. There's no rush."

The girl shrugged and muttered something under her breath, though Elspeth couldn't quite make it out. Then she rose from her spot. "Well, then, I've got lots to keep me busy." She started for the door.

"Thanks," Elspeth called, "for the hyssop."

Sorcha waved her hand in acknowledgment then shut the door behind her.

Elspeth noticed Ben wore an amused look. "What is lady's mantle?" he asked.

She sucked in a breath. "Where did ye hear that?"

"Sorcha mumbled it on her way out."

Elspeth rubbed her face in frustration. "The little sneak!"

"What is it?" he asked again, but this time concern laced his voice.

"It's used in love potions. Ye'd better warn yer brother no' ta eat or drink anythin' in Sorcha's presence."

Ben threw back his head and roared with laughter.

She punched her hands to her hips. "I hardly think it's funny. It's a very powerful plant. And she could make it more potent than anyone else."

He dropped down to the settee and pulled Elspeth with him. She landed on his lap, and her mouth fell open in surprise. "Ben!"

"It's hard to imagine anyone wanting Will that badly."

"Well, he's yer brother. I imagine ye doona see him the way women do."

Ben's muscles tensed beneath her. "Oh, and how do you see him?" he growled.

Elspeth leaned forward and kissed his jaw. "As my brother-in-law."

He held her tighter and kissed her brow. "It's no matter anyway. Will can breathe easy, since we'll all be on our way soon."

"Ye mean ta London?"

He nodded. "Can you tie up your loose ends so we can leave in the morning?"

She'd already talked to Rhiannon about watching the cottage for her and helping those who needed her. The weather-channeling witch didn't have the same healing powers, but she could mix potions. Most people didn't need the sort of healing Elspeth was capable of, and Rhiannon could fill the void for a while.

"I think that can be arranged."

Alec MacQuarrie's persnickety butler pointed Ben toward the library. There were a couple of people Ben would miss when he left Scotland, but this particular servant wasn't one of them.

He sighed when his eyes landed on his old friend, who frowned with concentration and turned the pages of an old tome. "Looking for something in particular?"

Alec closed his book with a thud. "Ah, Ben, just doing a little light reading."

Light reading? The volume looked to be thicker than the betting book at White's. Ben couldn't read the spine or cover before his friend dropped it to the floor beside his chair.

"Care to join me?" Alec asked, sitting forward in his seat and gesturing to a matching overstuffed leather chair across from him.

Ben obliged him and raked a hand through his hair. Alec didn't seem quite right, but he'd worry about that later. He had more important things on his mind at the moment. "I was hoping to find my brother here."

Alec smiled. "He's still abed. Poor fellow raced from England without stopping, as though the fires of hell chased after him."

"How do you know this?"

"I'm housing not one but

two

of his drivers. They apparently traded off the whole way, switching with the horses. He didn't rest at even one inn along the way, always moving forward."

Good God! All because Will found out that Ben had been writing Prisca? He shook his head. "I do believe my brother is more complicated than I originally thought."

Alec laughed. "I could say the same about you, my friend."

"Complicated" didn't even begin to describe Ben's life at the moment. He shrugged. "I also came to say good-bye. I've decided to take Elspeth to London."

At that, Alec winced.

"We'll be back, MacQuarrie," Ben teased. "It's only

for a while. I intend to have my new home here, like we discussed. With the most modern conveniences, a jewel in the Westfield crown."