Tall, Dark and Wolfish (8 page)

"Who's with her now?" he pressed. He needed to know she wasn't alone.

"I'm not sure anyone is at the moment. Miss Macleod's note said the lass kicked them al out."

Ben chuckled at the image of his fiery Elspeth doing just that.

"It's not funny," Alec reprimanded him with a scowl.

"No. It's not funny at al ," he agreed. "It's sad." He turned and started back up the stairs.

"You're giving up so easily?" Alec asked.

"I'm not good for her. You said so yourself."

"Wel , I never expected you to agree," Alec mumbled as he walked back toward his study. "But I'm glad you do. Rest easy, Westfield."

Ben tried to maintain a casual pace as he ascended the stairs. But as soon as he turned the corner out of sight, he sped up. He went back to his room

and crossed to the window. Only two stories up. He'd jumped farther before.

Ben pushed the window up slowly, happy to hear that it made little noise. He swung one leg over the side and then the other. He hung by his fingertips

until he final y dropped, landing in a crouch in some soft moss. But he immediately rose and jogged across the back lawn and into the woods. Then he let

his senses lead him to her.

He didn't stop until her cottage came into view, then he stopped and shook his head. It wasn't even dawn. What madness had come over him? In the

back of his mind he could hear Simon lecture him for his reckless impulsiveness.

Not that it mattered. The pul Elspeth Campbel had over him was too strong, and he couldn't turn away if he wanted to. He continued toward the door.

Before he could knock, it opened and Elspeth gasped. "
Mo chreach!
Ye frightened me!" A pail dropped from her hands.

"My apologies, Miss Campbel ." He reached out his hand to keep her from fal ing and grasped a handful of her skirts.

Her eyes widened and she backed away from him. "What do ye think ye're doin'?"

Ben heaved a sigh. This wasn't going at al the way he'd planned. Who was he kidding? He hadn't planned a bloody thing. "I just wanted to see you.

MacQuarrie told me about your grandfather, and I wanted to make sure you were al right."

She looked into the darkened night. "No horse? Did ye walk al the way here, my lord?"

He took a step toward her, not even trying to hide the grin on his face. "I took the path you showed me. I didn't know another way."

Elspeth stared at the handsome Englishman. It would be so easy to get lost in the depths of his eyes. How could Sorcha possibly believe
this
man wore

the mark? She shook her head to dispel such foolish thoughts. "Ye shouldna be here. I have things ta do."

"What things could you possibly have to do in the middle of the night?"

Elspeth retrieved her pail of tar. "People wil start comin' to see him in the mornin'. I need to blacken the door and—"

"Blacken the door?"

"'Tis tradition, Lord Benjamin."

"You Scots and your traditions," he said with a smile and reached out his hand toward her pail. "I'l do it."

She motioned toward the house with her hand. "I already stopped the clocks. But I havena covered the mirrors yet," she said absently, but she let him

take the pail from her.

"You should rest."

Elspeth swiped a tear from her eye. "I'm tired of everyone tel in' me ta rest. I'm just fine."

"Yes," he said, his deep voice rumbling over her like a caress. "I can see you don't need anyone." Lord Benjamin closed the distance between them and

wrapped his arms around her. Elspeth couldn't help but sag against him, even though she knew she shouldn't. It was heaven not to support her own

weight, so she let him do it for her.

"I canna stop," she said, unable to keep her voice from cracking. "If I do, I'l no' be able ta start again."

"I know," he said softly. He didn't even pul away

when she began to sob against his chest. "It's al right," he crooned, his voice soft and melodic, and he rubbed her back with the flat of his palm.

Elspeth clutched the lapels of his coat in her hands as she pressed her forehead into his strong chest. "I'm sorry ta be such a bairn."

He tried to tip her chin with his finger so that she would look up at him, but she didn't move her head. By now her eyes were probably al red and her

nose puffy. But he didn't give up. His hand cupped her face and tilted it toward him.

Her eyes met his with a jolt. "You're not a baby," he said softly. "You're human, that's al ." The pad of his thumb stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry your

grandfather died."

"I'm sorry I wasna here," she whispered.

"He wouldn't have wanted you to suffer, too, love. I'm sure of it."

She knew his words were meant to be comforting, but they simply started another storm of emotion. When he bent and slipped one arm beneath her

legs to pick her up, she didn't argue. She just wrapped her arms around him. She couldn't even find the strength to protest when he sat down on the bench

outside the front door and placed her on his lap.

His strong arms enfolded her and pul ed her close as his hand pressed her head into his shoulder. He reached into his pocket with the other, retrieved

his handkerchief, and handed it to her.

"Tired of me drownin' yer shirt, are ye, Lord Benjamin?" she asked quietly.

A chuckle rumbled through his body. She moved to sit up, but his arms stil enfolded her. "Not yet," he said. "I was just getting comfortable."

"My friends would say this is highly improper, what with me sittin' on yer lap and al ."

"Then I'm real y glad they're not here." Another laugh moved through his body. Then his lips touched her forehead.

"They're al angry with me anyway," she said as she blew the hair from her eyes.

"I'm sure they're not angry," he tried to assure her.

"Ye dinna see the look on Caitrin's face. Do ye ken she tried ta make me leave with her?"

"She wouldn't dare!" he cried in mock dismay.

Elspeth simply raised her head and swatted his chest with her fist. "Ye're no' so funny, ye know," she mumbled. "Ye're mighty handsome. But no' so

funny."

"I can't be perfect," he said, his eyes dancing with mirth when they met hers. He brushed her hair back over her ear. "Your hair is beautiful down around

your shoulders."

Elspeth's hands flew to the top of her head. "My combs!" she cried. "My combs are gone." She jumped to her feet. How could she have lost them? Tears

stung her eyes again as they started to fal . How could she have lost her grandfather and al she had left of her mother in the same night?

She rushed into the house and spun around. Thankful y he hadn't fol owed her. Elspeth closed her eyes and opened her hand. "
Faigh, faigh, faigh.

Còmhnadh
."

Then she peeked open one eye. Nothing sat in her palm. Wherever the combs were, they were too far away for her summoning spel to work. Then

again, she was distraught; perhaps her concentration was off.

Lord Benjamin stood in the doorway, watching her. She didn't have time to think about what he thought. She checked the floor and the smal table. She

searched beside her grandfather's bed, by the mirrors she'd covered, and by the windows she'd opened. But the combs were nowhere to be found. How

could she have been so foolish?

"They're gone," she cried, as the last bit of hope escaped her.

"It's al right." He took her shoulders in his strong hands and forced her to look at him.

"It's no' al right. They're al I have of her."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "I'l find them," he promised.

"The bal ?" she asked as she motioned toward the door.

"You had them when we left the bal . I'l go back and find them." The strength in his gaze startled her, leaving her speechless. "I'l find them. No matter

what."

Al she could do was nod. Then he was gone.

Ten

Ben ran across the meadow behind her house. He ran as fast as he could. The haunted look in her eyes was fresh in his mind. He knew it was the loss of

her grandfather, not her hair combs, that she was truly concerned about. The trinkets were something for her to fret over, but he was bound and

determined to find them anyway. They meant the world to her, and he'd make sure it was one less thing she had to worry about.

Ben fol owed his nose into the woods, tracking Miss Campbel 's scent and his own, retracing their steps. The night closed around him like a shroud, the

trees blocking al evidence of the moon. But he knew it was there. He final y
felt
it. He final y felt something.

He searched the darkness, looking for the glitter of the pewter combs, hoping they would present themselves. If not, he'd look al the way to the light of

day. He wouldn't let her down. He simply could not.

He was a bit ashamed to admit how much he'd enjoyed holding her in his lap, feeling the soft angles of her body pressed against him. He'd tamped

down his desire and simply al owed himself the pleasure of comforting her. She had needed him at that moment. But for some reason, he felt he needed

her, too.

Then something caught his eye against a large moss-covered rock. He bent and picked up one pewter wolf. He smiled up at the crescent moon. One

down. One to go. He pocketed the comb, then knelt beside the rock and patted the ground.

Nothing.

He final y stood and dusted the dirt from his knees. What were the odds that the two combs would have landed in the same place anyway? He went

back to fol owing their scent, heading in the direction of the Fergusons' mansion.

Just as the sun broke the horizon, he heard church bel s ringing off in the distance. Then he spotted the second comb. It must have fal en from her hair as

soon as they'd started to run. He picked it up with a smile and added it to his pocket with its mate. He was gratified to feel the heavy weight of the pewter

wolves in his pocket.

He ran at a leisurely pace back to her home. The sun was up now, so he took in the tidy but smal appearance of her cottage. But what caught his

attention was the coach out front. He slowed to a walk and peered around the corner of the house.

The young dark-haired chit he'd met the night before, the one who didn't appreciate him lumping al of Scotland in as part of Britain, was just reaching

the door. Her big lummox of a brother was at her side.

"I doona ken why
we
have ta sit here al day," the giant complained.

The girl turned an irritated gaze upon her brother. "We're here, Wal ace, because El shouldna be alone. Someone has ta sit with Mr. Campbel . We'l al

be takin' turns. And Caitrin specifical y asked for yer assistance."

"She did?" He brightened just a bit. "Is Cait here, then?"

The girl let out an exasperated sigh. "
Mo chreach
! Does yer every thought have ta be about Cait? No, she's no' here. No' yet, anyhow."

The lummox's smile widened, completely unaffected by his sister's outrage. "But she'l be here later." He pounded on the door, nearly shaking the

cottage to the ground.

Ben watched the pair enter the house, then he leaned against the wal . Poor Elspeth, if those two had been designated to keep her company. Stil , they

were her friends, and he was… nothing. Just a fel ow passing through town. Dread washed over him.

He pushed himself off the wal and started for the door. He had hair combs to return. Then he would start his search for Rosewyth Campbel .

Ben ambled up the front step and knocked lightly. A moment later the dark-haired chit pul ed the door open, and her jaw dropped. "What're… I mean,

Lord Benjamin?"

As soon as his name fel from her lips, Elspeth came into view. Her green eyes sparkled in the early morning light, and Ben's heart leapt in his chest. It

was ridiculous for the girl to have such an effect on him. Stil , he couldn't look away from her beauty. She hadn't slept in more than a day, and yet she

looked as radiant in her simple homespun as she had in her bal gown the night before. "Miss Campbel ," he said softly.

A beaming smile spread across her face, making her even lovelier, which he hadn't thought was possible.

"My lord, I'm so sorry ta have sent ye on a wild goose chase last night. I wasna thinkin' clearly."

Ben stepped inside the cottage, which seemed much smal er in the light of day. Of course, the overgrown Wal ace Ferguson took up a large amount of

space.

He reached into his pocket and pul ed out the two pewter hair combs. "I told you I'd find them."

Elspeth gasped as her eyes landed on the two wolves in the palm of his hand. Before Ben could say anything else, she threw her arms around his neck,

nearly throwing him off balance. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping both of them from tumbling to the ground.

"I canna believe ye found them," she gushed. Her pretty green eyes glistened, and she looked at him as though he were her own personal hero.

If the Ferguson chit hadn't suddenly suffered from a fit of coughs, Ben was certain he would have kissed the beguiling girl he stil held in his arms. As it

was, doing so with an audience wasn't the best idea.

He smiled at Elspeth then drew back, though he wanted nothing more than to hold her even tighter to him. Ben opened his hand once more, revealing

the pair of pewter wolves. She snatched them from him and clutched them close to her heart. "I canna ever thank ye enough, my lord."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Campbel ."

"Doona go anywhere," she said. Then after one more beatific smile, she escaped into a room off the side of the main one.

Ben turned around to find the Ferguson siblings glaring at him. He lost his sil y grin and then frowned when he realized the girl was raking her gaze over

every bit of exposed skin he had—his face, his neck, his ears—as though she was looking for something on his person. Quite disconcerting. "Hel o,