Tall, Dark and Wolfish (3 page)

Wil pushed himself away from the door frame and smiled. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay here? I'm supposed to meet Simon for lunch today."

Al he needed was for both of his brothers to hover and watch his every move. The image sealed his resolve to find the fabled healer the major spoke of,

as ridiculous as it sounded. Ben shook his head. "And leave poor MacQuarrie to his own devices? I wouldn't be much of a friend to desert him in his time

of need."

Wil laughed. "Very wel . Travel safe, wil you?"

"I always do."

Three

After traveling the North Road for nearly a fortnight, Ben was relieved when the city of Edinburgh final y came into view from his coach window. He'd sent a

note to Alec, inviting himself to stay with his old Cambridge pal at his home, and he hoped his friend had received the missive. He would hate to show up

unannounced.

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 stil 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 ful y 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 Wil , 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 al over again.

This time Ben was bound and determined to solve his little problem himself. It real y wasn't a little problem, though. Not being able to change with the

ful ness 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 pul ed 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 wel 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 wel . 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. "Actual y, no. I have planned a night of dancing, and if I'm lucky, I'l 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'l come up with something. Where are you going?"

"The Fergusons are hosting a bal ." He pul ed 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 tel 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 dramatical y.

"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 chal enge. Speaking of which, you should come along. The Fergusons won't mind if

I bring one more, especial y the brother of a duke. In fact, I am to escort a friend of Miss Macleod's as wel . 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 al 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 il egitimate."

"One can't be a
bit
il egitimate, my friend. She either is or she isn't."

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

"Al 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 al Scottish women into one basket, Westfield. Miss Campbel is a very nice woman," Alec admitted.

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

"Aye. Miss Elspeth Campbel ."

How many people in Edinburgh wore the surname of Campbel ? 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 wil 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 al ow the maid to tie the laces of her gown.

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

"Doona tempt me," Elspeth retorted as she settled into a chair and al owed the maid to brush through her long hair. She remarked to the woman, "No

matter how ye pin it, it'l al 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 wil na go without these."

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

"Certainly I wil . 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.

"Aye, I ken, ye love me," Elspeth grumbled. "Ye real y just want ta keep me between ye and Alec MacQuarrie."

Caitrin laughed. "I need to use ye like a windbreak, in case of an emergency."

"Happy ta be of service."

Once the maid had Elspeth's hair pinned atop her head, she stood and shook her gown. "I'm afraid I wil na have time ta hem my gown before we leave.

It's a bit long."

"I told ye that ye could wear somethin' of mine. But ye refused."

"I think my gown is passable."

"Al in the vil age ken ye've a gift with a needle, Elspeth. Yer gown wil be one of the best at the bal , even if it is a bit long."

"I'l just have ta work ta keep from steppin' on it."

"Ye'l do just fine," Caitrin remarked absently as she nodded to the maid, who announced, "The gentlemen have arrived."

Caitrin and Elspeth glanced at each other. "Gentlemen?" they both asked at once.

Caitrin colored slightly. "I did ask Mr. MacQuarrie ta see if he could find an escort for ye." When Elspeth opened her mouth to complain, Cait replied

quickly with, "Ye can forgive me later."

Then she walked past Elspeth and out the door, leaving El no choice but to fol ow in her wake.

The two women stopped side by side at the top of the grand staircase, which led to the foyer. They stopped and looked down at the men who stood

talking casual y at the bottom of the stairs, completely unaware of their presence.

"Oh, my," Caitrin breathed. "He's quite somethin', isna he?"

"Somethin'?" Elspeth whispered back. "He's beautiful." And much more. She gaped at the stranger with Mr. MacQuarrie. She'd never seen a man quite

so tal . His evening jacket fit snuggly against the wide expanse of his shoulders. Light brown hair, a bit too long, touched the top of his col ar. But it was the

intensity of his eyes that caught her attention, a light color she couldn't quite make out from the distance.

Then she took a tentative step. Yet she was so enthral ed by the man standing at the bottom of the staircase she forgot to lift the edge of her gown. Her

foot caught in the material and she stumbled. She was able to do no more than flail her arms in the air and close her eyes tightly before she braced herself

for the blow.

But no sooner did she stumble than she felt strong arms catch her in the air. She came to an immediate stop, safely and wel caught within the grasp of

the handsome stranger. How had he moved so fast?

Elspeth opened her eyes slowly and met the smile of the man who now clutched her so close. One hand was wrapped around her waist and the other

pressed against her bottom. She gasped, far more discomfited by that hand than she had been by the fal in the first place.

The man spoke, a laugh coating his words. "'Beautiful,' you say?" he asked quietly.

Four

Of course he'd heard her. He had heard the footsteps down the corridor and smel ed the beautiful scent of her long before she graced the top of the stairs.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that another woman stood near. But he couldn't draw his eyes from the flame-haired beauty long enough to

take the other in.