Tall, Dark and Wolfish (38 page)

ta get ta ken ye."

A smile spread across his face, and he scratched his whiskered jaw. "I'd like that, lass." Then his brow furrowed as he regarded her. "But Benjamin?"

"Is free ta do whatever he wants."

"I'm fairly certain he wants to be with you, Elspeth. He guarded you with his life last night."

She shook her head. "I canna go with him." It would kil her to do so, to see him every day and know he didn't love her. She was safer here, where she

could focus on her father and, hopeful y, figure out how to go on without Ben.

Forty-six

After more than a fortnight of travel, Elspeth took her father's hand in her own as she stepped from the coach in front of her smal cottage and took in the

sight. A comforting breeze caressed her face. The witches knew she was home. They'd probably known she was coming long before she did.

"Are you al right?" the major asked. It was stil hard to think of him as "Father," since they'd spent so little time together, but they had definitely grown

closer as they traveled from London to Edinburgh. She'd learned al about her grandparents in Glasgow and hoped to meet them very soon. She also had

several distant cousins and one spinster aunt, whom the major said would dote on her.

Elspeth closed her eyes and inhaled. It smel ed like home, so much sweeter than the thick London air. "Aye, I'm al right." Then she looked over at her

father. "Ye didna have ta come al this way just ta see me home, Major."

He chucked her beneath her chin. "I final y find out I have a daughter, and you want me to let you run off to Scotland alone? What kind of father do you

think I am?" He chuckled. "Honestly, I have no idea what kind of father I'l be."

"And I've no idea what kind of daughter I am," she said, smiling in his direction. "We'l learn together." His eyebrows pushed together as his eyes took in

the sight of the old cottage. "Does this bring back good or bad memories, Major? If it's too painful, we can go straight ta the Thistle and Thorn, and ye

wil na have ta spend time here."

"Actual y, Elspeth, I'd like to go and pay my respects to your mother." He avoided her gaze, and her heart ached for him.

"Down the lane. In the church cemetery." She nodded her head in the right direction. Part of her wanted to go with him, but she knew he needed to do

this alone.

"Wil you be al right?" he asked.

Elspeth grinned at him. "I've lived here my whole life. I'l be just fine. Besides, I've got some things ta tend ta."

He caressed her cheek then loped off slowly down the lane, his gaze pointed toward the ground. It had to be hard coming back to Edinburgh after al this

time. After al they had been through.

A coach rattled down the drive and stopped in front of her. Elspeth smiled as she recognized the crest. The door flung open with a bang; the inhabitant

didn't even wait for the driver to dismount and open the door. Sorcha tumbled out, a vision in white with a coronet of white flowers in her dark hair.

"Welcome home!" she cried, nearly knocking Elspeth to the ground with her exuberance.

"
Havers
, Sorcha! Ye act like I've been gone for years!" Elspeth said as she hugged the girl back.

"That's what it's felt like. Like ye disappeared from the face of the earth."

Elspeth laughed and tugged the girl's arms from around her neck, setting her back so that she could look at her.

"Somethin' is different about ye," Sorcha said, touching a fingertip to her chin as she regarded Elspeth from head to toe. "But I canna determine what it

is."

"Aside from the loss of the wolf that was hangin' on her arm when she left us?" a voice cal ed from behind the coach. Caitrin appeared, with Blaire and

Rhiannon in her wake.

"Doona start with me, Cait," Elspeth bit out. "I've only just come home. Let me settle in before I have ta start battlin' with ye."

Caitrin crossed her arms and leaned against the side of the coach. "Where's yer dog? He's no' nippin' around yer skirts."

Elspeth turned to go inside. She held the door open and raised her eyebrows. "Anyone who can keep a civil tongue in their head can join me. Otherwise

I have a lot of work ta do."

Blaire, Sorcha, and Rhiannon went in and made themselves comfortable on the settee while Caitrin lingered in the doorway.

"Do I need ta ply ye with hyssop, Cait?" Elspeth asked, gesturing to the plant that stil thrived on her tabletop.

Caitrin sighed and stepped into the room.

Elspeth's voice final y broke when she said, "I miss him…"

Caitrin flew across the room in a flash. She pul ed Elspeth into her arms and cooed softly as she let her cry it out. "I ken that ye miss him. I'm sorry for

bein' so cruel."

Elspeth wiped her cheeks with her fingertips. "I doona ken what's wrong with me. I am usual y no' so emotional." Al four of the girls suddenly avoided her

gaze.

"What's wrong?" Elspeth barked. "What is it that keeps ye from lookin' me in the eye?"

"It's no' our place ta tel ye—" Caitrin began.

"Ye've seen my future, then?"

"Aye, I've seen yers. And that of the bairn ye carry," Caitrin said softly as she brushed a tendril of hair from Elspeth's brow. Then she turned and walked

out the door.

"Doona go!" Elspeth cal ed. "Ye canna leave me without knowin'."

"Yer future waits," Caitrin cal ed back, smiling. Then al four girls started down the lane, their heads pressed closely together as though they were tel ing

secrets she wasn't privy to. The coach Sorcha had arrived in was abandoned, as the women apparently thought a long walk would be better for their

scheming. Elspeth directed the coachman back to the Fergusons'.

She shook her head with dismay as she walked back into the house and sank heavily into a chair, placing a hand on her bel y.
A bairn
. She smiled softly.

Then it hit her what Caitrin said. It wasn't like her to start to speak and then end in a riddle. "Yer future waits?"

"Do you think I'm the future of which she spoke?" a deep voice said from the doorway.

"Ben!" Elspeth cried as she jumped to her feet.

It had been weeks since he'd seen her last. He al owed his gaze to travel slowly over her body. He smiled when he heard her heart start to beat faster.

He did stil affect her. He'd hoped so. And prayed. And wished.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"We've only just arrived."

"Where's Major Forster?"

"He went ta the church cemetery."

"Oh." Ben understood completely. If anything ever happened to Elspeth, he would probably die with her. Or die a mil ion deaths as the days passed

before he could join her.

"How are ye?" Her hands fluttered nervously until she final y clutched them before her.

"Hale and whole. Thanks to a lovely Scottish witch who gave me the healing I needed."

"So with the moonful ye did change?" she asked as her eyebrows knit together.

"Yes, I did." He nodded. "I'm back to my old self."

She smiled slowly at him. "I'm truly happy ta ken I could help ye, Ben."

"I'm in need of one more bit of healing, though," he said softly as he walked slowly toward her. She stood stil and quiet, but the flowery scent of her

became stronger as her body warmed beneath his gaze.

"What seems ta be wrong with ye?"

He took her hand in his and pressed it to the center of his chest. "I think I've a problem with my heart."

Elspeth gasped. "What kind of problem? I have potions for the heart. I can heal ye," she said frantical y.

He placed a finger to her lips. "It's not that kind of heart problem." Her confused gaze rose to his. "I'm afraid my heart is broken."

"That's no' humorous," she said, trying to pul her hand back. But he held tightly. He'd not al ow her to mistake his intentions. Her green eyes flashed.

"Ye'd have ta love me before yer heart could break."

He bent his head to touch his lips softly to hers. "I know." He pul ed her closer to him, until her body pressed against his in the most delightful way. He'd

missed holding her, the feel of her in his arms. He breathed beside her ear. "Fix my heart, El ie." Then he loosened his hold and stepped away from her.

She shook her head. "Ye shouldna have come."

His stubborn, beautiful, intoxicating wife. "Come now, love. You heal everyone else."

Elspeth dropped onto her old threadbare settee. "I've given ye al I have, Ben. I doona have anythin' else."

Which was why it was time for him to take care of her. Something he would do for the rest of his days. He just had to win her back first. "Come to dinner

with me tonight, El ie."

"Ben," she groaned.

"I won't take no for an answer." He sunk to his haunches before her. "It's just dinner. You have to eat anyway."

She shook her head. "But my father—"

"—has been eating camp rations most of his life. I'm sure he can manage one night at the Thistle and Thorn."

The corner of her mouth twitched, and for a moment he thought she was going to smile at him, but she quickly schooled her features back in place.

Ben tucked a curl behind her ear. "I promise not to bite."

"Just dinner?"

"Just dinner."
For now.

"Al right," she final y agreed.

Forty-seven

"Whatever ye do, doona say anythin' stupid," Caitrin warned Ben. Then she thrust a picnic basket into his arms.

He almost stumbled backward against the Macleods' grand staircase. A footman snickered, but quickly adopted a stoic expression when Ben glowered

at the man. "Findlay," Caitrin replied waspishly, "ye may leave us."

Once the servant was gone, Ben turned his attention back to the pretty seer, whom he stil couldn't quite believe was helping him. "Thank you for your

confidence," he grumbled.

Caitrin raised one arrogant brow. "I believe that's why ye're in this situation, Westfield. I'm simply sayin' doona make the same mistake again."

"Wel , that goes without saying."

She ignored him, then handed him a folded-up plaid he'd come to recognize as belonging to the Campbel s. "I've put some red candles in there, too."

"Why red?"

She frowned at him. "Do ye want my help or no'?"

To be honest, he wasn't sure. He knew he could trust Sorcha, but Caitrin was another matter. "Why
are
you helping me?"

At once she looked remorseful, which was a change from her usual haughtiness. "My mother was so consumed with keepin' the
Còig
intact, she dinna

see what she was doin' ta Elspeth's mother. At least that's what I've been tel in' myself." She took a deep breath and met his eyes. "I canna fathom lyin'

about a vision, Westfield. It goes against my very nature. Her fear and selfishness cost El a lifetime's worth of happiness. It's a little late, but if I can bring

some ta her, I'l even help the likes of ye."

Even when she was helping him, it stil came off as an insult. "A truce, then?" he asked.

Caitrin cocked her head to one side, assessing him. "Are ye real y goin' ta split her time between London and Edinburgh? Like Hades and

Persephone?"

Ben couldn't help but laugh. "
You
whispered that little myth in MacQuarrie's ear?"

A wicked smile played on her lips. "I'm a bit selfish myself, Westfield. And ye dinna answer my question."

Ben sighed. He'd never thought he'd have to get approval for his time al otted to him by this particular witch. "Yes, Miss Macleod."

She winked at him and smiled. "What a good wolf ye've turned out ta be. And ye can cal me Cait."

"Cait?" He raised his brow in amusement.

"Wel , I'm goin' ta be the godmother of yer children, after al ."

"Are you, indeed?" He couldn't resist smiling.

"If ye can win her back. I doona trust my visions

completely anymore. And El can be more stubborn than most."

But she saw them together. Ben released a sigh. He would take al the help he could get.