Never Been Bit - By Lydia Dare Page 0,66

been mistaken for her before.”

Sorcha’s adorable nose scrunched up. “Nay, I’m just certain she’s furious with me.”

Alec grasped her hand and pulled her into his arms.

“Eynsford is dense, lass. He didn’t realize what you said.”

Her mouth fell open, and instant regret flashed in her eyes. “Ye mean—”

“It was just a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

“I-I suppose.” She looked so concerned, so worried for him.

Alec adored her all the more for it, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “There’s no reason to worry about me, Sorch. I’ve told you time and again that I’m over Caitrin. It’s true. You don’t need to try to protect me.”

Her hands slid around his waist, and she pressed her head to his chest. “Ye canna tell a soul or she’ll boil me in a cauldron of oil.”

Cait’s temper was legendary, but Alec doubted cauldrons of oil would be necessary in this case. “Why doesn’t she want him to know? I’m sure he’d be over the moon.”

“She wants ta ken for certain,” Sorcha said against his chest. “She canna see her own future, ye ken.”

“Is that what your argument was about?” Alec tipped Sorcha’s chin up so she had to look at him. “You thought she should tell him?”

Sheepishly, Sorcha shook her head. “I was tryin’ ta blackmail her. I told her I’d keep her secret if she’d call off the marquess, if she’d let us just be and let us make our own decisions.”

Alec nearly roared with laughter. “My conniving little witch!” Here he thought she’d taken the high moral road, wanting to keep everything open and honest, but she was actually blackmailing Cait! Or trying to. He wiped a tear of mirth from his eye. Sorcha was priceless. “Oh, lass, you do make life interesting.”

She frowned at him. “I canna believe ye’re laughin’ at me, Alec MacQuarrie!”

“Not at you, Sorch,” he amended, bringing his levity back under control, “at the situation. You—” The sound of an approaching carriage caught Alec’s attention, and he looked over Sorcha’s shoulder. “There’s my coach now!”

Chapter Twenty

Sorcha spotted The Black Horse Inn from her window and breathed a sigh of relief. Cait hadn’t fared particularly well, even with the ginger. As soon as Sorcha had a room to herself, she could concoct something a little stronger. So much for getting to Edinburgh quickly. They’d be lucky to make it there by Michaelmas at this rate.

“Almost there, Caitie,” Eynsford soothed, caressing his wife’s arm.

“I am sorry,” Cait mumbled as the coach rumbled to a stop.

“It’s no’ yer fault.” Sorcha smiled at her friend. “As soon as I can steep ye a special pot of tea, ye’ll feel better than ever.”

Eynsford snorted. “Not me. I made a vow to myself never to drink tea a witch offers me, at least not while traveling.”

Even in her fragile state, Cait elbowed him in the stomach. “I canna believe ye can joke at a time like this.”

“Sorry, angel. Just breaking up the tension.” Eynsford opened the coach door, climbed out, and then scooped Cait up in his arms.

Neither Sorcha nor Alec had made a move to depart the conveyance, at least not yet. Alec chuckled to himself. “The man really is dense. How could he not see what is going on with her?”

Sorcha shrugged. “More worried than suspicious, I suppose.”

“Well, I suppose we should get you to your room so you can steep this magical tea.” He alighted from the carriage and offered her his arm.

A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Ye’re accompanyin’ me ta my room?” She stepped forward, laid a hand flat on his chest, and then batted her eyes at him in what she hoped was a coquettish move.

He leaned down a little to say quietly in her ear, “I don’t see any hovering Lycans lurking about to stop me, do you?”

“Eynsford is hoverin’ around Cait right now.” Sorcha glanced furtively around the courtyard. “How long do ye think we have?”

“It won’t take me very long,” she thought she heard him mumble.

“What did ye say?”

“I said we can have as long as it takes to make the tea, I’d assume,” he clarified.

She narrowed her eyes at him. That wasn’t what he’d said. But she’d leave it be.

When they entered the inn, they found that the marquess had already secured their rooms for them. Hers was directly beside Eynsford’s and Cait’s. And Alec’s was on the other side of the establishment.

“Interfering mutt,” Alec muttered.

Sorcha couldn’t keep from giggling. Alec reached into his pocket and passed the innkeeper

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