Tall, Dark and Wolfish (24 page)

A smattering of applause and a chorus of hurrahs broke out. Alec started toward the cottage door, herding the others out as he went. He threw a glance

over his shoulder as the last of the neighbors left, smiling. "You owe me, Westfield."

Ben saluted his friend, just as Elspeth returned to the cottage. Alec dropped a kiss to her cheek. "Congratulations again, Lady Elspeth."

"Thank ye, Mr. MacQuarrie."

As Alec left, Elspeth turned her questioning gaze to Ben. "Everyone streamed out of here as if the place were on fire. I thought ye were goin' ta work on

yer hostin' skil s, my lord."

Ben stepped across the room and drew her back into his embrace. "I'd much rather host only you, my lady-wife."

A pretty blush stained her cheeks as she rested her hands on his chest. "Did ye ask them al ta leave?"

"Alec," he explained. "Apparently the only way to get hoards of Scots from your home is to promise them another party. I don't know how he'l get rid of

them tomorrow."

Elspeth giggled and he scooped her up in his arms. "Benjamin, what are ye doin'?"

"Taking my wife to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

She stared at him quizzical y, which wasn't exactly the look he'd wanted. "What's tomorrow?"

"After Alec's impromptu wedding breakfast, we'l start for London."

Elspeth pushed against his hard chest. "Put me down." His hold tightened instead, and her temper began to rise. "Ben, I said put me down," she said

more forceful y.

"What's wrong, El ie?" he asked, al owing her to slide down his body until she was back on her feet.

"We canna start for London tomorrow."

He blinked at her, his hazel eyes shrouded in confusion. "Why not?"

The man seemed so intel igent most of the time. Why had he picked now to play a dolt? "Have ye not heard a word I said, Ben?"

"I hear every word you say. I like the sound of your voice."

So now he was going to try to be charming? Wel , Elspeth wasn't going to let him distract her. "I want ta go ta London. I want… no, I
need
ta find my

father, livin' or dead, one way or the other. But I canna leave tomorrow."

Ben frowned at her. So he had listened to her; he just didn't remember what she'd said. Wel , that seemed like something a wife should know. "Benjamin

Westfield, I told ye this very mornin' that I wouldna leave until ye were healed. Everythin' I need is here—"

"About that," he interrupted, and his frown darkened. "There's no need to wait, Elspeth; you won't be healing me."

If he'd sprouted wings or burst into flame she wouldn't have been more surprised. "I wil na be healin' ye?"

He shook his head. "And I'd like to get a start on our journey ahead. I'm certain my mother wil love you. I'm anxious for you to meet her. And…"

Elspeth stopped listening and she stumbled backward. He didn't have any faith in her. He didn't think she could do it.

A numbness washed over her and she blinked back her tears.

"El ie," she heard him say, but she shook her head.

She hadn't thought anything through. She'd been so caught up in her feelings for him, she hadn't asked the right questions or heard the right answers.

And now she was married to a man who didn't believe in her.

Ben's arm wrapped around her and kept her from fal ing. His concerned expression pul ed at her heart, and she couldn't look in his eyes for fear that she

couldn't contain her tears. "Let me go, Ben."

"You don't look wel , sweetheart." He directed her to the settee. "Here, sit." Then he sat beside her, clutching her hands in his. "Are you stil feeling

weak?"

She shook her head, stil not meeting his eyes. "I think maybe ye should go ta London without me." Her words surprised her as much as they seemed to

surprise him if his gasp was any indication.

"I beg your pardon?"

Elspeth stared at their entwined hands. "Ye can talk ta yer major for me. Ye doona need me." The last bit was especial y hard to get out; the truth that he

didn't
need her stung in her throat.

"Elspeth Westfield," he growled near her ear. "I'm not going anywhere without you. Now, tel me what's wrong."

"People here trust me, Ben. They need me."

"Wel , they can al hang. You're
my
wife."

She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. "I was a healer long before today."

A muscle twitched in his jaw and his eyes hardened. "Not anymore, El ie."

The wind whooshed out of her lungs. Before she could find the words to properly thrash him, he continued.

"I almost lost you today. Do you know what that did to me? Finding you slumped over Caitrin Macleod? And you were so cold, like a lake frozen solid. I

could barely make out your heartbeat it was so slow. So no more healing. A doctor could have tended to Miss Macleod, and doing so wouldn't drain his

life force."

She gaped at him. He cared about her, even if he had no faith in her abilities. Stil , it was disheartening. "I'l have ye ken today was an anomaly. I've been

helpin' people for years, Ben. From time ta time I get a little weak, but with Cait… wel , we're so close, and—"

"Sorcha explained al of that to me, lass. I won't put you in danger, and neither wil anyone else."

And that was why he didn't want her to heal him. It wasn't even the same thing at al . Stubborn man. He should have asked questions before making

decisions that affected them both. "Ye told me from the beginnin', Ben, that being a Lycan meant everythin' ta ye. This mornin' when I told ye I knew how ta

heal ye, I've never seen yer face light up so. And now ye're wil in' ta go through life like a human, turn yer back on who and what ye real y are?"

His brow furrowed and he looked at least a decade older than his twenty-six years. "I feel enough like my old self when I'm with you, El ie. I don't need

anything else."

"Ye told me ye needed ta be able ta change with the moon. Ye left yer home and yer family ta seek me out."

He rubbed his hands across his face and rose from his spot. "You're close to Caitrin, Elspeth, and that closeness nearly took you from me today." He

stood over her glowering, his hazel eyes dangerously dark. "What we have, you and I, goes beyond closeness. We are connected in a way I don't even

understand, a way I didn't even know was possible. So, no, you're not going to heal me. Do you think I would risk losing you, just so I can change to wolf

once a month and howl at the moon with my brothers?"

As infuriating as he was, she didn't think anyone had ever cared so much about her. Elspeth reached her hand up and caressed his cheek. "Ben," she

said softly.

He closed his eyes and kissed her palm. "I won't let you do it, El ie."

She heaved a sigh. "It's no' the same sort of thing, Ben. I told ye this mornin' I have my mother's potions and spel s. I ken how she fixed him, and if ye'd

stop bein' so stubborn and listen ta me, ye'd ken I wil na be in any danger."

His eyes narrowed at her. "The extent of your healing wil be potions and spel s. You wil not waste your own energy on me?"

"Sil y man. I plan ta spend some of my energy on ye, but not in
that
way." She felt the heat creep up her face as he tipped her chin toward his and

chuckled.

He briefly touched his lips to hers before he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. "You can spend as much of
that
kind of energy on me as you

like," he assured her before he tossed her into the middle of the bed and shrugged out of his shirt.

Thirty

Ben stretched to his ful height in the smal bed, groaning as his head bumped the headboard and his heels hung off the end of the mattress. He lifted his

head and looked around. If he spent any more time in Elspeth's bed, he would have to purchase one made for a ful y grown Lycan. Even a normal man

would have been uncomfortable in her bed, which was just wide enough for her to sleep comfortably, alone.

He smiled slowly to himself as he remembered adjusting her body during the night to pul her as close to him as he could. He had drawn her into the

saddle of his hips, but then her beautiful round bottom taunted him. He had pressed her front to his, but then her nipples teased his chest. Final y he had

roused her gently, pul ed her atop him, and slid inside her. Then she'd fal en asleep in that position after they'd both found their pleasure, her cheek above

his heart, her hair a fiery tangle around them both.

He would love to sleep with her in that position every night for the rest of his life. But they would have to do so in a bigger bed. He added it to his mental

to-do list. Right behind
install shutters.

Her room was awash with offensive sunlight, the kind that forces one to rise even if one doesn't want to. Ben rol ed to his side and clutched the edge of

the bed to keep from fal ing off. He pul ed the sheet over his hips before he crooked his elbow and rested his head in his overturned palm.

"El ie," he cal ed. A clatter of pots and pans met his greeting. He groaned. "El ie!" he cal ed more loudly. The pots and pans ceased their clatter.

But it was Sorcha who stuck her head through the bedroom door. "Ye bel owed, my lord?" the young witch began drol y, then quickly drew her head back

when she saw his state of undress. Her gasp was al it took to get him moving.

"Didn't anyone ever tel you witches how
rude
it is to interrupt newlyweds?" Ben cal ed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid into his

pants. He tugged his shirt over his head with enough force to rip a seam. "Ugh," he grunted. Between grass stains and tears, his valet would have Ben's

head when he saw the state of his employer's wardrobe.

"Did anyone ever tel
ye
how
rude
it is ta cal a woman inta a room when ye're undressed?" the little witch shot back.

"I was cal ing for my wife," Ben said. His voice lowered to a mumble. "Who I'd hoped would be very happy to see my state of undress." And his state of

readiness. "Why are you in my kitchen, Sorcha. And where is El ie?" He pul ed on a stocking and stuck his head through the door.

"Doona come out of there unless ye're properly dressed." She pointed a spoon at him in warning.

"Depends on your definition of 'proper,'" Ben grunted as he adjusted the second stocking and padded into the room. He poured warm water for tea.

Sorcha stood alone in the kitchen, pots cooking on every warming surface, spoons spinning at random, victims of their witchy powers. He shook his head.

"And the word 'proper' should be used very loosely where you al are concerned."

Sorcha pul ed his cup from his hand and added something to it. "Elspeth said ye're ta drink nothin' but the blueberry." She handed it back to him.

"Careful, it's hot."

Ben nodded absently. "Thank you. Where's Elspeth?"

The witch avoided his gaze. "The blueberry bush is ruled by the moon. As are ye." She shrugged. "Or at least ye should be."

"Sorcha?" he said firmly. "Where is Elspeth?"

The littlest witch hung her head. "They should've sent someone else," she grumbled. Then her eyes met his before skittering away. "She's gone on an

errand."

"What kind of errand?"

"The healin' kind?" Was that a question?

"Where?" he barked as he strode back to the bedroom to put on his boots.

"She's gone ta deliver the bairn for Mrs. Kincaid."

"She delivers babies?" Ben was pretty sure that unmarried women were not normal y al owed in the birthing room.

"Not real y," the girl hedged.

"Sorcha, you
will tell me now
," he growled.

"She only goes if there's healin' needed." She wrung her hands.

"You mean healing like she did with Caitrin?" He shook Sorcha's shoulders. "Don't you?"

She simply nodded.

He had told Elspeth that she was not to heal anyone else. She was not to put herself in danger. It wasn't even possible that she had forgotten from the

night before.

He forced Sorcha to tel him where to find her, then he took off at a run toward the Kincaids' smal cottage.

As he neared, he slowed and listened intently to the sounds coming from inside. He clearly heard Elspeth's voice, clear and resonant as she

encouraged the woman birthing the babe. He heard the frantic pacing of a heavy-footed man, whom he assumed was the father, in the front room of the

house.

Ben rapped briefly on the door. It swung open and a man's face met him. He was a bit younger than Ben, and obviously the expectant father, if the way

he chewed his fingernails was any indication.

Ben suddenly was at a loss for words. He'd come ful y prepared to wrest Elspeth from the clutches of people who would suck the life from her inert body,

taking al the healing she had to offer and leaving nothing. Nothing for him.

"My wife is here," he started.