Never Been Bit (10 page)

“Fibber,” Sorcha accused.

“It’s no’ that I doona want ta tell ye. It’s just that some things are sacred between Lycans and their mates.” She finally met Sorcha’s eyes. “And ye already ken about reproduction. From the flowers and the plants. The fertilization with pollen and all that…” She whispered the last.

“Ye’re comparin’ what goes on the marriage bed with
flower reproduction
?” Sorcha snorted. A very unladylike sound, she well knew. But she did it anyway. That was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard.

“Yer husband will teach ye all that ye need ta learn,” Cait said as she covered Sorcha’s hand with her own and gave it a quick squeeze. “I promise.”

“Some help ye are,” Sorcha grumbled.

Cait pressed a hand to her chest. “I married Dash,” she said quietly. “There’s a bit more ta a Lycan relationship than a normal one.”

“And I’d like ta catch one myself, so it would be nice ta be prepared,” Sorcha huffed.

Cait opened her mouth to speak, probably to deny that Sorcha would marry a Lycan, but a clatter from the hallway brought both ladies to their feet.

“See, I told ye someone could be listenin’,” Cait said with a self-satisfied grin.

Through the doorway, the Duchess of Hythe bustled in, tugging an unwilling gentleman behind her. “Your Grace,” the man sputtered. “I have an appointment I must keep.”

The duchess gave one last jerk of the man’s arm, and Alec tumbled into the room, protesting all the while.

“There,” the duchess said with a self-satisfied smirk as she dusted her hands together. She turned to address Cait and Sorcha. “Lady Eynsford and Miss Ferguson, I am so happy to see the two of you together.”

“That makes one of us,” Alec muttered as he righted his clothing. He looked as though he’d been brawling in the street.

The duchess continued as though he hadn’t said a thing.

“I met Mr. MacQuarrie in the corridor and impressed upon him how much I’d like to learn the details of my surprise. You do remember the one you mentioned the other day?”

Sorcha pressed the back of her hand to her lips to stop the giggle that wanted to erupt. Poor Alec. He clearly didn’t have a clue what to do about the duchess’ surprise.

“I told Her Grace that patience is a virtue,” Alec tried.

“A virtue I apparently lack,” the duchess chimed in. “So, I’ll have my surprise now.”

Chapter Nine

Alec had done all he could to avoid this little gathering.

He’d smelled Cait’s scent as soon as she’d entered the castle. He’d heard the blood rush through her veins. For months, he’d avoided running into her at all costs. Yet there she was, standing a few feet from him, close enough that he could touch her. But, for once, he didn’t want to reach out and touch her. And the little piece of his heart that always ached when he saw her didn’t so much as give a little twinge. Of course, his heart was dead. But up until this very moment, he’d felt
something
every time he’d come into contact with Cait. Yet now, he felt nothing aside from a lingering fondness.

Instead, his eyes were drawn to Sorcha, who stood before the Duchess of Hythe with a hand pressed to her lips to stifle a laugh. The very sight of it made him want to laugh with her. How odd was that?

“We havena quite finished yer surprise yet, Yer Grace,” Sorcha said. “But I do promise.” She paused long enough to draw the tip of her finger across her breast. “Cross my heart that we’ll have it for ye by tonight.”

The duchess narrowed her eyes at them both. “Might I have a hint at what it is?”

“Uh.” Alec grunted. He had no idea what the blasted surprise was supposed to be. This had been Sorcha’s idea. Not his.

“I’m sure it would ruin the surprise if they told ye,” Cait said quickly. “Sorcha was just tellin’ me that they have some finishin’ touches ta put on it.”

“I was?” Sorcha sputtered from beside Cait. But Cait nudged her with her elbow until she spoke up and said, “I was. Aye. I was just tellin’ Cait about the surprise and how we had a little more ta do with it before we could present it ta ye.”

The duchess put her hands on her hips. “Then why are you standing here? You, MacQuarrie, were stalking the corridors like a lion in search of your next meal.” He was.

Quite perceptive of her. “And, you, Sorcha, were here
socializing
with Lady Eynsford?” She looked affronted.

“And all of this is while my surprise goes unfinished?”

Her gaze landed on Cait. Was that a twinkle in her old eyes as she scolded Caitrin? He was almost certain it was.

The duchess pulled Cait to her side. “I suppose I’ll be forced to entertain your guest, Miss Ferguson, until my surprise is complete.” She looked over at Cait. There was most definitely a twinkle that time. “You two should get on with it and don’t dawdle. I’ll expect my surprise by tonight.”

And with that, she tugged Cait over the threshold.

Cait waved and grinned at them both as she was dragged through the open doorway. “I’ll see ye both later at the ball.”

“Not if I see you first,” Alec muttered as their footsteps receded.

Sorcha punched him in the arm. “That wasna very nice. I wasna ready for Cait ta go yet. We’d just started a very interestin’ discussion.”

Alec folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her little pixie nose, which was still covered in freckles.

God, he loved those freckles. “Do you think there’s something going on there?” He gestured to the open doorway.

“Do I think there’s somethin’ goin’ on in the corridor?”

Alec frowned at her. “Do you do that just to needle me?”

“I doona have any idea what ye’re goin’ on about, Alec.”

He wasn’t sure he did, either. “Did you notice the glances between Cait and the duchess?”

Sorcha looked at him as though he had sprouted a third eyeball.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think the two of them were plotting something.”

“Plottin’ somethin’?” Her warm brown eyes sparkled with mirth. “Like a way ta wrestle the English crown from the Hanoverians? Do ye think they have a Stuart waitin’ in the wings ta take over the throne? Bonnie Prince Charlie died without issue. So I doona think—”

“Sorcha!” Damn, he wanted to kiss her. Or throttle her.

Maybe both. “That’s not what I meant at all. Do you think they’re plotting something about… us?” Perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part.

“Us?” Sorcha laughed. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve heard all day.”

Was it? The images that had been plaguing him all night said differently. “More ludicrous than Cait and the Duchess of Hythe wrestling control away from Prinny?” Alec couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The very idea of those two women plotting to overthrow the government was too ridiculous for words.

“Indeed.”

Did she just say
indeed
? Alec wanted to ask why that was. Why the most ridiculous scheme he’d ever heard was less ludicrous than the two of them being together. But he already knew the answer to that. Sorcha couldn’t think of them as an
us
because her mind was set on one of those drooling beasts. That, according to Cait, would be disastrous for the little wood sprite. He couldn’t let it happen.

“What are we to do about this surprise?” Alec changed the subject. “Heaven help us if we don’t have something for Her Grace this evening.”

Sorcha winked at him. “I’ve got just the thing.” Then she motioned for him to follow her from the salon.

Alec groaned and set off behind her. The sway of her little round bottom had his complete attention as they twisted and turned down corridors. He could barely draw his eyes from her backside long enough to look at where they were going. But within moments, he found himself in the orangery. The scents of many different flowers teased his nose. Of course, she would bring him to the orangery. It was her favorite place.

“Ye’re the second gentleman ta visit me in the orangery today,” she remarked absently.

That caught his attention and he dragged his eyes from her derriere. “Who was the first?”

“Lord Bexley was here earlier. He’s a curious fellow, is he no’?” She reached for a large, empty pot and set it on a nearby table.

Damn it to hell. The hair on Alec’s arms stood up. “What did
Bexley
want with you?”

“Ye make it sound as though no one would want ta spend time with me, Alec,” she said, laughing.

At least he hadn’t offended her. Yet. But Bexley was someone she shouldn’t be alone with. “Oh, I have no doubt men want to spend time with you, Sorch. But you should take care with Bexley. He has a sordid reputation.”

“As do ye,” she reminded him with a glare. “Will ye pass me that pot over there?” she asked as she filled her container with soil.

He reached for it absently. “But I would never ruin you. Bexley, on the other hand…” He didn’t even want to envision Sorcha alone with that reprobate. “What exactly did he do?”

Sorcha shrugged. “He was just bein’ a bit odd, actually. I’m no’ certain what ta make of it. He invited me ta sit and talk for a bit. And he put his arm around me.”

“He did what?” As soon as Alec got his hands on the blackguard— “Doona act like ye canna hear me, Alec,” she scolded.

“He touched you?” Alec asked, reining in his temper.

“No’ like that,” she clarified. “No’ like ye did,” she said more quietly as a pretty little blush crept up her cheeks.

“About that,” Alec said as he shuffled his feet. “That was a poor choice on my part.” He hadn’t been thinking clearly, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about her. A poor choice indeed. He wasn’t certain he’d ever forget the feel of her soft lips against his.

Sorcha nodded. “I thought ye might think so.” Suddenly, she seemed very interested in the plant she held. Where only a moment before she’d been looking up at him as she talked, she no longer did. She focused all her attention on the plant. “I mean, a man like yerself, ye’ve kissed scores of lasses. I am but a drop in the big, old bucket that’s yer love life.”

She wasn’t a drop in a bucket at all. She was all he could think about, all of a sudden. “My bucket’s empty,” he said.

Then he waited for her reaction.

She snorted. “Somehow I doubt that.” She was up to her elbows in dirt, and she’d never looked prettier. She swiped a hand across her brow to brush back a stray lock of hair, but it fell right back over her eyes. “Can ye help me?” she asked as she blew at the tuft of hair.

She’d swiped a large streak of dirt across her forehead, so Alec took out his handkerchief and reached for her chin to steady her with one hand while he tucked the lock of hair back into her coiffure and wiped at the streak with the other.

The sweet scent of apple blossoms washed over him as she blew heavily. “There,” he said as he bent and kissed that shiny clean forehead quickly. “That better?” Why on earth had he done that? He never did anything like that. Not anymore.

“Much,” she breathed. Her heart was suddenly beating rapidly within her breast. He could hear the wash of blood in her veins and see the pulse that beat at the base of her throat. His teeth began to ache. Alec took a step back from her, hoping to regain a bit of his control.

“So this surprise,” he started. “What exactly is it?”

She pointed to the half-potted plant on the table. “I found this the other day when I was out here workin’. Sad little thing, is it no’?” She turned back to her work. “The gardener told me it’s a precious orchid the duke bought for the duchess years ago. They did all they could for it and finally gave up hope that it would survive and tucked the poor thing inta the back of the orangery. There it has sat. All alone with its leaves droopin’.”

“Sorcha, that thing is dead,” he informed her.

“No, it’s no’.”

He lifted one of the dry, brittle leaves and it broke apart in his hand. “Aye, it is,” he said more firmly.

“
No, it’s no
’,” she argued. “It’s just waitin’ for someone ta love it.”

“Sorcha,” he argued.

“Watch.” She tucked the plant into its new soil and pressed the mound gently but firmly. Then she poured the smallest amount of water into it. She stroked her hand across one of the dry, brittle leaves, and the little thing perked up. It still looked dry and brittle, but it actually looked… happy?

“Did you do that?” He couldn’t help but ask. He knew she could control plants, but he’d never seen it with his own eyes.

She shrugged. “All I did was love it. It brought itself back to life when it realized its own potential. That’s what it’s all about. The plant has ta believe.”

“Plants can think?”

“Of course, they can. They’re no’ doomed ta live in one little pot. With care and love, they can become so much more.” She stroked across the stem of the plant, and even more of it perked up. One of the leaves even reached out to tickle the back of her hand.

Alec felt a grin tugging at the corners of his own mouth as he listened to her giggle. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I just provided the medium. The plant did the work.” She shrugged again. Then she turned to him, a look on her face so radiant that he had to take a step back. She was innocence personified, with a streak of allure that he’d love to look further into. But with him being what he was, it wasn’t meant to be.

“Now we have the surprise for the duchess,” she said quietly. “She’ll be very happy with it.”

“And my contribution to this surprise?”

Sorcha shrugged. “It was so nice of ye ta bring me my special soil all the way from Edinburgh. I doona think the orchid would have recovered without ye.”

Clever, adorable little witch. “So, what were you arguing with Cait about?” He thought it best to steer her toward safer waters before his interest in her grew to astronomical proportions.

“It’s nothin’,” Sorcha murmured as a blush crept up her cheeks.

Clearly it was something. He nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“It’s no’ somethin’ I can discuss with ye, Alec,” she said, her face becoming even more rosy.

Bexley. Had Bexley taken advantage of her? “Tell me what it was about, Sorcha,” he said quickly. “Did Bexley try anything with you earlier?”