Chapter Fifteen

K nowing how to do something, and teaching it, were vastly different things.

The day stretched out, testing Sabine more than she’d ever believed possible. Half of her students were gone before noon. Her personal love for knitting wasn’t shared by anyone Morven had selected. By early afternoon, only a few students remained.

The supper bell rang, and Sabine’s students used it as a method of escape. She was grateful too. There was an ache behind her eyes.

“I promise to do better tomorrow.”

Sabine jerked her head up. Neilina was still in the room. She brought her work over, displaying it for Sabine to judge.

The beginning of the piece was quite messy but there was improvement. “You are learning.”

The girl beamed. “I am going to learn. That is a solid promise.”

“You’re determined,” Sabine noted. She also noticed the red marks on Neilina’s hands.

The girl tilted her head to one side. “Ye must have been the same to teach yerself in a dark corner.”

“It was a very long and cold winter,” Sabine muttered. “There was naught else to do.”

“I’d wager they told ye a girl couldn’t learn to knit.” There was a flicker of rebellion in Neilina’s eyes. “That’s why they let you watch.”

Sabine felt an answering flame ignite inside herself. If that was pride, so be it. “Well, yes, they did say so.”

Sabine smiled at the memory. Prideful or not, she’d truly enjoyed succeeding in learning how to manage the little loops of yarn on the thin knitting wires.

She looked up and caught Neilina looking at her with hunger flickering in her eyes. The girl nodded determinedly.

“I will be yer best student. Wait and see.”

The girl performed a quick reverence before she spun around in a swirl of her skirt and ran out of the room.

Something was strange about the girl. Sabine was tempted to think about it, but the bell sounded again, warning her that if she wanted a warm supper, she’d best hurry to the hall.

*

“There is no point in ye returning to the village,” Arland stated. “Too many people know yer face and mine.”

Ruben knew Arland was correct. He grunted, fighting the urge to curse.

“There are other ways,” Arland suggested. “We’ll have to rely upon others to listen for the information we need.”

Ruben didn’t care to leave something so important in someone else’s hands. Arland reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

“I know ye have no liking for that lad.”

“Sabine had a bloodied scalp,” Ruben said. “I’d say she’s used up her share of luck. I must find whoever is behind the attack before he makes another attempt.”

“Ye are not a reckless youth, Ruben,” Arland cautioned him. “We must wait for the right moment to strike.”

“Aye, ye are correct,” Ruben agreed, his frustration clear.

One side of Arland’s mouth twitched up. Ruben raided an eyebrow in question.

“Yer father saw fit to give Sabine some students to teach her knitting skill to. I doubt it will take very long for that news to make it into the village,” Arland explained.

Ruben felt his body tighten. When it came to protecting what was his, he knew very well how to manage his emotions.

And without a doubt, Sabine was his.

*

The passageways were dark.

Sabine heard the benches in the great hall skidding against the stone floor. The retainers were pushing them toward the walls so that they might spread out their kilts and sleep. She’d lingered in the hall as long as possible but now the household was settling down for the night.

She shivered. The cassock was big and wide. Sabine hugged herself to keep the fabric close to her body. But she stopped when she got to the doorway of the workroom. Laird Lindsey had warned her, but she’d forgotten about the fact that her students had been promised the workroom as their lodgings.

There was not one spare inch. The bunks were full, and the rest of the students were on the floor. Some of the youngest boys were rolled up in their kilts on the sides of the passageways.

“Sabine.”

Ruben emerged from the darkness. She shuddered. Feeling as if everything was suddenly right with the world simply because he was there.

“Come.” He offered her his hand.

Happiness filled her. It just bubbled up from some hidden compartment inside of her, flooding her senses, and drowning all of her logical decisions. She’d already put her hand into his before she managed to recall why she could not take his invitation.

Sabine jerked her hand back. “We must not. You have a bride.”

Sabine hugged her hand tightly against her chest and shook her head. But the person she was trying to convince was herself. “We must be stronger than lust.”

“What I feel for you is much more than lust, Sabine,” Ruben informed her softly. “I have ignored lust. You beckon to me like the other half of my soul. That old woman was correct. I will never be satisfied by anyone except for ye.”

His words were sweeter than honey. Sweeter than anything she had ever heard.

“I will ask me father to bless our handfasting,” Ruben proposed firmly.

Sabine let out a little sigh. “He has already proposed such a thing and he refused to allow me to go to my sister at Black Moss Tower.”

She heard Ruben let out a sound of frustration. It was low and menacing, touching off a tremor that rippled down her spine. He closed the distance between them.

Stalking her.

“Why do ye want to leave, lass?” Ruben demanded softly once he’d flattened his hands on either side of her shoulders.

Pinning her…

Her heart started pounding. Her thoughts went scattering. Leaving her with naught but her emotions.

“Because the sight of you is something I cannot control my response to.” Saying the words out loud was even more intoxicating than thinking them. “I would never be strong enough to leave if you were in front of me, Ruben.”

The words came from her heart. All of her life she’d been told that confessions should come from the soul, but the most intimate ones appeared to live in her heart.

The corners of his lips twitched up. She stared at that little grin, so happy to see that he enjoyed her confession.

And then he was kissing her. Ruben tilted his head to one side so that he could press his mouth against hers. Denying him was impossible because the truth was, she loved him. He was the source of life for her and denying herself was impossible.

Sabine surrendered. To him. To herself. To the enchantment of the Midnight Well that bound them together.

Beneath the moon, there was only the magic!

*

Stolen moments.

Ruben knew a great deal about cultivating his own happiness. With the English attacking year after year, he had survived by finding moments that no marauding army might touch.

Comradery with his fellow clansmen.

Finding the means to shelter those who had been burned out of their homes.

The way his sister’s eyes had sparkled when he’d brought home the heather.

Seeing his father back in the great hall.

Those were the moments that he’d plucked out of a year of struggle. Hopelessness had always been lurking, walking hand in hand with the Grim Reaper, but he’d set his sights on the things that brightened his struggle.

Lying with Sabine, there in the dead of night, Ruben discovered another moment that he knew he’d treasure, long after it had passed. She had rolled to one side, allowing him to press up against her back. The scent of her hair filled his senses while one of her breasts filled one of his hands.

Their passion had been hot, and he’d enjoyed it fully. Now, he resisted the allure of sleep because it would rob him of listening to the soft sound of her breathing.

This was intimacy.

It was strange the way he knew a word and its meaning, but true understanding only came in a moment like this one when he experienced it.

Frustration needled him. Ruben felt his temper stir as well. He wasn’t a man who surrendered to hopelessness and now wouldn’t be the time that he started. No. Somehow, someway, he would find a way to marry Sabine. Fate had granted her to him by enchantment, so the fae folk would just have to work their magic again.

The problem was, he knew that his marriage was a reality he could not fail to face, and magic didn’t flourish in the bright light of day.

Even if he knew he’d still love Sabine when the sun was shining bright.

*

“Sabine?”

Waking up was harder than normal. Sabine drew in a deep breath. She really tried to open her eyes, but her body wanted to just drift back into the embrace of sleep.

Ruben brushed some of her hair back from her face. His touch was something worth waking up for. She smiled and opened her eyes to discover him fully dressed.

“I enjoy seeing ye like this, lass,” he muttered with a very satisfied look on his face.

“Like…this?” Sabine blinked and looked down the length of the bed to see the rumpled bedding. Bright sunlight was coming in through the open windows to illuminate her bare skin.

Every bit of her was uncovered.

She gasped and rolled over, right out of the bed. Ruben chuckled at her.

“Do nae be so flustered, lass.” He offered her chemise to her.

Sabine felt a blush stinging her cheeks as she plucked the undergarment from his fingers. He didn’t relinquish it though.

“Ye are beyond fair, Sabine,” he muttered seriously.

“I am already fallen from grace.” She tugged on the chemise, eager to cover herself. “Would you have me become vain as well?”

Ruben raised one eyebrow. He released the chemise but captured her from behind, using his long arms to hold her in place.

“Look at yerself, lass,” he whispered against her ear.

Against the wall, there was a mirror. A large one with a polished surface that showed her a crisp reflection.

“Where did that come from?” Sabine was astonished to see such a costly item.

“It seems my father had a few things hidden away from me. Treasures he did not want me to sell,” Ruben answered her. He eased her forward a few steps so they were closer to the polished surface of the looking glass. “This is a gift from him to us. I am beginning to like it quite a bit.”

“That’s…naughty,” Sabine remarked.

Ruben made a sound in the back of his throat. “I believe lewd is a more fitting word.”

It was…

Sabine had never seen herself nude before. Uncertainty gripped her. Was it wrong? If so, why was she so fascinated?

“Do nae look away.” Ruben used his face to try and turn her head back toward the mirror. “Are we not created in the image of God?”

“Ruben!” Sabine gasped. “That is…well…it is…unseemly.”

“It is also true,” Ruben remarked unrepentantly. He moved one hand, stroking the curve of her hip and on upwards to one of her breasts. “Ye have such pretty pink nipples.”

He brushed his thumb over the top of her nipple. It drew tight into a hard point.

“And so very responsive too.” Ruben’s voice had turned husky.

Sabine couldn’t argue with his comment. Not only did it feel like that simple brush from his thumb had started her bud to throbbing, but she was also able to see the hardened tip.

“Tell me what ye are thinking,” Ruben asked.

Her gaze locked with his in the reflection. Hunger had his jaw drawn tight but there was also need flickering in his eyes. Somehow, she hadn’t ever thought about what their entwined bodies did to him.

“I am thinking…that I am not alone in feeling intoxicated by you,” she answered heatedly.

He pressed forward, allowing her to feel the hard state of his cock. His chest rumbled with a chuckle that was dark and hinted at a tryst.

“How could ye doubt it?”

Ruben turned her around so he might kiss her. Hard and sweet, she opened her mouth and lifted her hands so that she might latch onto his shoulders and hold him tightly against her. The night of passion behind them seemed to have little effect on just how needy she still was for him.

She doubted she would ever be sated.

Ruben lifted his head from hers, staring down into her eyes for a long moment. One corner of his mouth twitched up, hinting at something mischievous. “I believe I owe me father my gratitude for this mirror.” He looked past her to the looking glass. At the same time one of his hands slid down to her bare bottom, cupping one of the cheeks. “Ye have a very nice ass.”

“Ruben!”

She spun around, only to realize he could once again see her entire bare front. Ruben cupped her breasts, toying with her nipples while the mirror gave her a perfect view of his lips thinning with hunger.

“But I like the front view very much too!”

Sabine was breathless but she suddenly laughed. It was a strange combination of emotions; one she never would have imagined. She liked it, though. Ruben was watching her, his eyebrow raised in question once again.

“I never thought to have fun…while being intimate,” she confessed.

Ruben grinned broadly enough to show off his teeth. “Shall we play, lass?”

Her heart was thumping hard inside of her chest, sending her blood racing. “Um…how?”

“What every boy likes to do…I want to go riding!”

He squeezed her bottom, leaning over until she was bent along with him. Her hands came to rest on the bench.

“Will ye be my sweet mare? I confess that I want to mount ye,” Ruben boldly suggested.

Something flared up inside of her. This was more than the need she’d felt in their other encounters. Now she wanted to test him just as much as he tested her. Sabine turned her head and nipped his arm.

“Don’t assume I am tamed.”

His arms tightened around her. “I prefer ye spirited, lass.”

Did he really? The idea took off inside of her like a flame hitting dry straw. She pushed her bottom back toward him, wanting to entice him. She heard him draw in a stiff breath. But she also saw his face in the mirror. Raw hunger appeared to be etched into his expression and there was nothing she wanted more than to feed his appetite.

Their gazes locked in the mirror. Ruben’s eyes narrowed before he was lifting up his kilt. Boldness was like a living thing inside of her now and she watched without blinking for a view of his cock. When it came into view, she felt her belly clenched with anticipation.

Ruben didn’t make her wait. She widened her stance and felt the head of his cock prodding her entrance. She was wet and welcoming to his first thrust.

Ruben grasped her hips, sending a jolt through her. Need and hunger made a potent combination, intoxicating her. Ruben thrust into her, feeding the need consuming her.

But she wanted more. And he did too. Sabine read it off his face, fascinated by the way he looked.

As though she consumed him as much as he did to her. She wanted to concentrate on their reflection, but her passion refused to be slowed down. She felt her body tightening, the moment of climax rushing up to claim them both. She cried out and felt Ruben groan almost at the same moment. His seed burst inside of her as he held her hips in a grip that sent another ripple of satisfaction through her.

Her legs quivered and Ruben’s head was on her back when Sabine could think again.

“I have never been one for spells and whimsy…” Ruben muttered against her back. “But for certain I am under the spell of the Midnight Well. Ye are me soul mate, Sabine.”

He straightened up, pulling her along with him and into an embrace. He lifted her chin, locking gazes with her.

“Promise ye will be here tonight.”

He needed her to say yes. Sabine felt her arguments melting beneath the need flickering in his eyes. “I will be.”

Her words pleased him.

Actually, it was a pledge.

A vow…

Sabine felt the words binding her to him. He kissed her once before he released her, giving her one last look before he opened the door and left. Off to fulfill his duty to the Lindseys, she couldn’t have been prouder of him.

He was a man of honor and she had given him her pledge.

The bargain was struck.

*

The great hall was full of retainers breaking their fast when Sabine made her way there. Today, conversation quieted when the men noticed her. Heads turned and she noticed the maids in the back slowing their steps so they could see what she would do.

Morven had her hands fisted into her apron. The rest of the staff shared her anxiety while they waited to see how the morning would play out. But it was young Neilina who captured Sabine’s full attention.

The girl sat at the high table. Oisin was not there today, which left the girl alone. Neilina was uncertain, her pallor pasty while she looked at Sabine with fear in her eyes.

Everyone else was watching Sabine to see what she would do.

She had given Ruben her vow. Now, it was time to lay the foundation of a happy home for the man she loved.

Sabine made sure her expression was mild. She walked down the aisle toward the raised section that the head table sat on. She stopped and touched her foot forward and then back as she bent that knee to lower herself in a formal curtsey.

And she waited for Neilina to raise her.

The hall was silent in anticipation.

“Please…join me,” Neilina stammered.

“Thank you, mistress.”

Sabine sat to Neilina’s left. In front of her, she saw smiles of approval on the face of the Lindsey retainers. Morven nodded at her before returning to serving. But off to one side, Sabine noticed that Arland stood near the opening to the passageway. Half hidden behind the captain, Laird Lindsey lifted his hands to offer her silent applause.

Conversation resumed, the Lindseys pleased and content. It was just too bad that Sabine couldn’t completely banish her doubts.

She would always love Ruben. The Midnight Well had bound them so tightly together, Sabine knew that she could never find the strength to willingly part from him.

But the world was a place of business and logic. The girl beside her would grow into a woman who would one day feel the need to secure her place.

That would be the day Sabine might be ripped from the side of the man she loved.

*

It was well past sunset in the knitter’s guild hall. Arden Preyor only had one candle burning on his desk. He heard the front door open and steps coming toward him. The darkness might provide a fine setting for evil deeds, but Arden wasn’t concerned. The floor above him was crowded with apprentices who earned the right to sleep beneath the solid roof of the guild hall as part of their pay.

“State yer business,” Arden spoke first.

The steps didn’t stop. Arden looked up. It would be foolish to allow anyone too close. A dagger blade across the throat would end his life in a moment and all the apprentices of the guild would be too late to help him.

The man had a dark hood on. It was pulled up to help shadow his face, making him look like a monk from eras gone by. Arden moved his hand, placing it onto the dagger that lay on his desk. He sent the man a clear warning.

“If ye have no business, stop wasting my time,” Arden growled.

“I hear ye are a man who might share a common goal with me.”

Arden Preyor looked up from where he had been working on his guild account books. “I am a merchant man. Business is my trade.”

“As the guild master, ye must have connections inside the Lindsey stronghold.”

Arden Preyor remained silent. His visitor chuckled.

“Aye, ye are thinking ye have the high ground but ye tried and failed to eliminate the lass,” he mocked.

“Ye are wasting my time,” Arden Preyor sniffed. “Go back the way ye came,”

“I have a way to snatch the girl from beneath Ruben Lindsey’s nose.”

Arden fought to keep his expression from betraying his growing interest. “How so?”

The man shook his head. “That bit is my part of this arrangement. Yer part…” he pointed at Arden, “…is to tell me who inside that stronghold will help hide me until the moment is right. I want the girl, ye want her gone,”

“How do I know ye will not betray me and my connection to Ruben Lindsey?” Arden asked.

“Ye will have to trust me in the same way that I will have to trust the name ye give me,” the man said. “I will expect ye to give me the right code word to prove to yer connection that they are to assist me.”

His unnamed visitor was no fool. Subterfuge required codewords and phrases so that the participants could avoid being discovered.

The man stepped forward. The meager light from the candle washed over him, illuminating the kilt he wore.

Gordon colors.

“I am Gareth Gordon. I am going to steal Ruben’s woman.”

Arden Preyor smiled. His lips split wide to show his teeth. He reached into the neck of his shirt, pulling on a worn length of leather cord. A ring came into view. He reached over and poured some sealing wax onto a little square of paper and pressed the face of the ring into it.

“Find Aisling, the cook. Give her this.”

Gareth grinned. He took the paper, tucking it into his doublet. Perhaps Arden should have felt guilty for the look on Gareth’s face was menacing. But Arden was too focused on regaining his exclusivity in the market.

It was a necessary thing, ridding his environment of any competition.