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
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
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