Master of Mayhem (The Enchanted Well #2)

Chapter Eleven

S abine didn’t want to go.

Yet at the same time, the idea of staying filled her with dread. She was torn over what to do, but there was really only one choice.

She had to leave. The idea of destroying Ruben’s future was unendurable.

Even the weather appeared to agree with her conclusion. The clouds broke up, allowing a bright moon to shine down.

The workroom Morven had shown her to was a wonderful comfort. During the day, it had been a good place to knit. At night, the pallet made the stone bunk a firm, yet comfortable bed. Inside a stronghold, a dry place to sleep was considered quite a luxury and often included as part of a servant’s pay.

Morven had done fairly by her.

Sabine lamented the need to go. There was simply nothing else to do. She gathered up the cassock and headed out into the passageway once the moon had risen. A small amount of food was wrapped in a length of linen. She held onto it as she looked both ways before heading into the darkness.

“I wondered if ye’d test me.”

Sabine jumped. The bundle of food dropped to the floor right at Ruben’s feet. He emerged from the shadows, pausing to pick up the bundle. His eyes narrowed as the scent of fresh bread and cheese rose up to confirm that it was food inside the fabric.

“Do not argue with me, Ruben,” Sabine began.

“Ye can be very sure I intend to argue, woman, and more…” Ruben growled.

He moved swiftly, covering the space between them in the time it took her to gasp. He leaned over and tossed her right over his shoulder like a bag of harvest root vegetables.

“Ruben…,” Sabine protested.

He smacked her on her bottom in response. “Ye are staying here, Sabine.”

She quelled the impulse to kick when he started up the narrow stairs. Both of them tumbling down in a tangle of limbs seemed a very poor idea. But it meant Ruben made short work of hauling her to his chamber at the top of the tower.

The scent was familiar…

It filled her senses, igniting something inside of her. It was instantaneous and uncontrollable. Which enraged her. But she couldn’t deny that it also excited her.

The truth was, she didn’t want to leave. The sparse furnishings in the chamber reminded her just why she had to go. Ruben had lost enough.

“I will not be responsible for you losing your place here,” Sabine declared.

Ruben had turned around to close the chamber door. The solid sound of that door shutting made her quiver because it seemed to grant them permission to do whatever they pleased now that no one was watching.

Sabine shook her head. She was going mad. There was no other explanation for how being alone with Ruben affected her.

He reached out and flattened his hands on either side of her head.

“Ye will not shake yer head, Sabine. I have told ye that I will not allow ye to return to England where ye might be hanged for helping me defeat those soldiers.”

“I cannot be responsible for you losing your family, Ruben,” she persisted.

Her voice cracked. It felt as if a bubble popped inside of her, releasing all of the longing she’d refused to acknowledge since being taken away from England. “I know what it is to be separated from those you love.”

Ruben let out a soft word in Gaelic. A moment later he pulled her into his embrace. She stiffened, but her body wasn’t interested in resisting. He was warm and solid and everything she hadn’t realized she needed desperately.

Sabine was melting, so at home against him. She was astounded that she’d never realized that she needed to be near him.

Somehow, they were both shifting. Instinct was leading the way like a minstrel. With his scent filling her senses, lifting her face so he could kiss her was more natural than drawing her next breath. The seconds that it took for their lips to connect felt like hours while she suffered her craving for him.

Ruben didn’t disappoint her.

This time his kiss held an urgency in the way his mouth pressed upon hers. There was an answering passion inside of her, one that demanded she respond.

Sabine fully intended to do so.

She flattened her hands on his chest, delighting in the hard muscle she found there. Just a thin layer of fabric separated her fingertips from his bare skin, and she decided that it was a torment she needed to sweep away.

Sabine found the ties at the collar of the garment, tugging on them until they opened. She pushed her hands into the opening, a soft sound of delight coming from her when her hands at last felt their skin connect.

His kiss deepened again. Ruben gripped her nape, holding her firmly while he parted her lips for a deeper taste. It was new, undiscovered territory. Sabine followed him into it, opening her mouth so that he might tease her with a touch of his tongue.

She shivered.

Delight exploded through her.

Never had she even thought her body might be capable of feeling such extremes. There in his embrace, she discovered an entire world of wonders hidden inside of herself.

“Sweet Christ…” Ruben’s voice was raspy. “We must stop, lass.”

“No,” Sabine argued.

And she wasn’t going to let him think about it. She rose up onto her toes so that she could press a kiss against his neck. She heard him suck in a harsh breath. It was the finest compliment she had ever received. And something else flowed through her, a sense of confidence that bolstered her courage.

She affected him just as dramatically.

So she was not alone…

Something was so very right about that thought. Something that soothed all the uncertainty bubbling away inside of her. With it gone, she gave herself fully to the flickering heat rising inside of her.

“I have no defense against ye, Sabine.”

Ruben muttered the sentence like a confession. He scooped her up, cradling her against his body before crossing to the bed to lay her there. Her eyelids felt heavy because she didn’t want to see. She only wanted to sink into the swirling feelings and forget everything else.

But she lifted her eyelids to see Ruben looking at her. His eyes glittered. His jaw was tight. It sent a jolt of awareness through her. She’d never felt attractive until that moment, never really understood what it meant to be desired until she saw it on his face.

She lifted her arms to him in welcome.

He came to her, his body weight more pleasing than anything she’d ever experienced. The bed was more than comfortable. It was a place full of wonder and she was excited to learn what came next.

“I want to please ye, lass,” Ruben muttered against her neck.

He was stroking her. He started at her thigh, drawing his hand up over the curve of her hip, along her waist, and further still until he cupped her breast.

Pleasure went tearing through her. Sabine arched, offering her breast to his grasp. She heard him groan as his hand tightened around the soft globe. Ruben trailed a line of hot little kisses down her neck and onto the top swells of her breasts.

Her clothing was too tight.

Her skin wanted to be free, and she wanted to bare Ruben too.

Ruben seemed to sense her need. He reached down to her thigh once more, grabbing a handful of her skirt. He pulled the fabric up, offering her relief from the heat. The night air was perfect, soothing her skin.

He leaned over her, pressing her into the bedding. It was hard and yet, the proof of his strength made anticipation twist through her like some crazy shooting star cutting across a dark night sky.

“I am going to introduce ye to passion, Sabine.”

Ruben’s voice was thick with some promise. She reached for his shoulders, offering him her compliance by clinging to him.

He brushed her thigh once more, this time his fingers traveled over the top and along the inside where no one had ever touched her.

It was bold and she decided she liked that very much.

He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth and moved his hand so that he was cupping her mound. Shock snaked through her, but it left behind a smoldering need to see what else he intended to do.

Between the folds of her sex, there was a point of pulsing, throbbing need. Ruben seemed to know about it for his fingers delved between her folds to stroke it.

Sabine cried out. Her heart was racing, excitement building to a fevered pitch inside of her.

There was simply no way to contain everything inside herself. She felt as if she were blooming in fast motion. The colorful petals burst out while he teased that little nub with his fingers. Her hips rose up, offering him complete access. She was twisting with anticipation, everything tightening until it just gave way in a jolt of white-hot pleasure.

Every muscle she had was tight to the point of snapping. She twisted and jerked; all the while held tight in the grip of rapture. It defied comprehension, so she didn’t even try to understand. There was no point. All there was room for in her mind was the way it felt to be pressed onto the bed by her lover’s weight while satisfaction swept through her and pulled her down into slumber.

*

Ruben placed a last kiss on Sabine’s temple before he tore himself away from her.

His cock was hard.

It was a raw thing to think, but factorial. He’d become a man some years ago but tonight, he recognized that he still had lessons to learn.

There were more types of satisfaction than just releasing his seed.

Ruben settled down in front of the fire, very pleased with himself. Taking Sabine would have been simple. His experience would have aided him but the reaction they had to one another would have sealed the deal.

There was no honor in seduction.

He craved something deeper from Sabine. He stared at the flames in the hearth for a moment. What he wanted was something intimate. He wasn’t sure he knew just how to define it either. But the need was more important to him than gaining a quick release.

Satisfaction came to him there on the floor. A sense of knowing that he’d given his very best to Sabine.

It was a fine feeling.

A very fine feeling!

*

Sabine slept deeply.

It was the best sleep she’d had in weeks, perhaps months. The bed felt perfect, cradling her, and lulling her into a sated state where she didn’t have to think.

But she heard a bell toiling.

It seemed far off but persistent. Sabine frowned and blinked. A little piece of fabric fell from where it had rested across her eyes. Now that it was gone, she gasped, realizing that the sun was fully risen.

And she was still in bed.

And still a maiden…

Her mind offered up a perfect recollection of what had happened the night before. She looked around the chamber, but Ruben was gone.

That was a small mercy. Well, actually, a very large one!

Her fingers fumbled the laces on her boots while it took forever to get the footwear on. She hurried down the steps, hoping to avoid being seen coming down from the tower.

Everyone in the stronghold knew whose chamber was at the top of the tower.

The bell had been rung by the kitchen staff. Everyone was breaking their fast in the great hall. Sabine hesitated in the passageway.

Ruben would be there.

How did she face him?

Ha! Better to think about how to manage yourself!

Her cheeks warmed with a blush in response to her little inner voice. Truly, she couldn’t blame Ruben. She had been a most willing participant. Demanding even.

So where did that leave her?

Was her father correct? He’d always warned her that inside of her were the seeds of wantonness because of her gender. Only strict attention to modesty would keep her from the path of lust. Had those seeds sprouted now? Was she simply doomed?

Her belly growled.

Ahead of her she could see that the benches were full of Lindsey retainers enjoying the first meal of the day. Morven was bustling around, checking pitchers and plucking a few of them up to give to Norrie who headed toward the kitchen.

Eachan was sitting with Fintan and Ardan. All three were scooping hot porridge up out of their bowls. Eachan caught sight of her and let out a whistle. He lifted his hand and gestured her forward.

Sabine jumped back.

But Eachan dropped his spoon and was on his feet in a flash of his bare thigh. He reached up to tug on the corner of his knitted bonnet. The respectful gesture stunned her, allowing the young retainer to close the distance between them.

“The laird is calling for ye, mistress Sabine,” Eachan told her.

He held out his hand for her but frowned. He quickly pulled his hand away, choosing to gesture in the direction that he wanted her to go. Other retainers were looking their way, making an escape impossible.

The hall grew quiet when she entered it. Sabine couldn’t quell the urge to look around. Today, there were smiles aimed at her, but they didn’t put her at ease.

“There’s the lass,” Laird Lindsey announced. “Bring her here.”

There was a spot next to the laird. Eachan guided her toward it, pulling the bench back for her.

“Fill the lass’s plate.” Oisin pointed with one of his gnarled fingers.

The two women who had been serving the laird suddenly leaned in on either side of Sabine to put food on the plate waiting there.

And it was very fine food too.

Sabine felt her eyes widen as she took in what was given to her. There was cheese, bread that glistened with jam, and even a hardboiled egg. Beside her, Oisin made approving noises in the back of his throat.

“This is too fine a meal,” Sabine protested.

“Eat it all,” Oisin insisted.

“Father.” Ruben made a soft argument from where he sat on the other side of the laird.

“Would ye prefer I send Morven up to yer chamber for the bed sheet?” Oisin asked quietly.

Sabine grabbed one of the pieces of bread and stuffed it into her mouth. She heard Laird Lindsey chuckle. He nodded in satisfaction while she chewed quickly to avoid choking. A second later, another piece of bread was placed onto her plate.

“Bring me the fabric.” Oisin moved on to another topic.

Sabine concentrated on her plate. It was delicious food. Normally she would have savored it, but escaping the hall was the only thing on her mind. So she worked at cleaning her plate.

“Here…ah…yes, this is the one.”

Oisin placed a small square of wool fabric on the table between them. Sabine paused, captivated by the fabric. It was a fine shade of green and looked very soft. She couldn’t resist stroking its surface with the tip of her finger. Just as she’d suspected, the fabric was smooth.

“Eachan will take ye down to the tailor. They will fit a dress to ye,” Laird Lindsey stated.

“But….such fine cloth. It must be for your daughter.” Sabine was aghast.

“It was intended for Allision.” Oisin smiled and tapped his temple. “Ye have some wits in there. Good. Too often the May queen is naught but a pretty, buxom girl with naught but chaff between her ears.”

A round of chuckles rippled through the hall, proving that the Lindsey were listening.

“I couldn’t accept such a gift,” Sabine muttered.

“Ye shall.” Laird Lindsey flattened his hand on the tabletop. Immediately the retainers all sent Sabine looks that made it plain they expected her to bend to their laird’s will. “I have made the effort to rise from me bed to celebrate the spring. I do nae care for yer drab, Puritan dress. The tailor was expecting me daughter for a fitting. Ye appear to be near to her size, so ye shall go in her place. Do nae begrudge me this season, lass.”

She suddenly felt the weight of every gaze in the room on her. Sabine picked up the hard-boiled egg and bit into it to avoid answering.

Oisin nodded approvingly at her. “Ruben, I need ye in the study. We’d best go now while I have strength.”

“Aye, father.”

Ruben was answering his sire, but his gaze was on Sabine. While Arland helped Oisin rise from his chair, Ruben leaned in close to her.

“Thank ye for pleasing me father, Sabine.”

The compliment warmed her. It melted the awkwardness that had been needling her, leaving her soaking up the appreciation shimmering in Ruben’s eyes.

She liked pleasing him.

It was one of those things that family did for one another. A defining trait of a home.

Ruben’s eyes narrowed. “I will see ye tonight, lass.”

There was a promise in his tone, one that set off a pulse of anticipation inside of her. Ruben watched her face for a second before he turned and followed his father. It gave her a good look at his broad back and wide shoulders that only made her recall just how much she’d enjoyed being pressed against him.

Those seeds had done much more than just sprout!

*

“Norrie, keep an eye on the stew.”

Aisling pointed at the hearth. She sent Norrie a stern look before she grabbed a handful of her skirt and headed out into the yard. Norrie happily watched the cook leave.

“It’s so nice to have some fresh air,” One of the other maids remarked cheerfully.

Everyone in the kitchen laughed.

Aisling crossed the yard and went into the far tower. It was connected by an apron wall, forming a very formidable fortress. Retainers could keep watch from the top of the tower. There was a chamber up there as well, which meant there was a kitchen on the first floor.

Aisling went into what had once been the main kitchen. Now it was old, the hearth rarely used except on feast days. The younger youths who were training to be retainers used it as a bathhouse and slept there. She found the boy she was looking for.

“Ma?”

Aisling lifted her finger to place it against her lips. Her youngest son Pol snapped his teeth together instantly. She reached into her bodice, retrieving a folded letter.

“Take that down to Arden Preyor. Put it in his hand and do nae let anyone make ye stand about. It’s an important matter.”

Pol nodded once before he was off with a flash of his young thighs. He wore only a brown colored kilt because he hadn’t earned the right to wear the colors of the clan just yet.

He would though.

Aisling was confident that all of her children would have fine places. She worked hard to ensure it. Like any mother, she would go to whatever lengths necessary to see her children live a better life than she had.

And it pleased her to know her sons would benefit from the misfortune of someone English!

*

The village was full of people intent on getting their errands done.

The cobblestone paths had wagons and carts clogging them, while people wove in and around with large wicker packs strapped to their backs.

Fresh new leafy greens were being brought up from the south. Dairy products and spices filled many of the carts. People were eager to pay for the wares, the sound of haggling adding to the noise of the swollen river that ran on the far side of the village.

The village was a prosperous one. Both sides of the roads had buildings that rose up two stories. The roofs on the buildings were made of solid slate. Dark clouds were gathering overhead, promising rain before much longer. People were in a hurry to finish their business before the storm broke. Eachan and Fintan were no different. The Lindsey retainers hurried Sabine through the streets.

“There it is.” Eachan pointed at a sign hanging off a building.

The tailors’ guild occupied two very large buildings. A sign hung near a door with a coat of arms on it.

Eachan took her inside. There were several long worktables here. Fabric was expensive and precious. Off to her right, there was a man watching two tailors who were cutting a length of fabric. He carefully picked up the scraps, placing them in a small basket.

Closer to the windows, men sat on stools and sewed. In front of them were tables that held their tools. Scissors, pins, thread, and needles. All of which was carefully organized and in plain sight of the guild master who presided over everything.

Eachan had started a conversation with one of the senior craftsmen. They spoke in Gaelic while two other men carried out a flat-bottomed basket that was covered with a piece of linen. When they pulled the covering away, Sabine saw the green fabric.

The two men began to lift the fabric out of the basket, laying it out on one of the tables. The skirt panels were sewn together, only the cartridge pleating at the waist remained to be done. The pieces of the bodice were also already prepared, the edges carefully rolled and stitched to prevent the fabric from unraveling.

It was a marvel to see. An entire dress being produced by the combined efforts of the tailors’ guild. This was the modern method of production. Apprentices entered the guild at the age of six and competition was fierce for spots in a guild such as this one. Sabine took in the silver needles, pins, and scissors. To have such fine tools, the guild was very successful. She peered closer at the pieces of the dress, noting the fine, even stitching.

A pounding sound came from the guild master’s desk. The man Eachan had been conversing with suddenly headed toward the raised section of floor where the guild master sat. He tugged his cap off before beginning to speak to the man who ran the guild.

To have a spot in the guild meant your entire life was lived under the direction of the guild master. Such was the way life was for everyone. To have a place meant stability. From the lowest peasants working in the fields all the way to the royals. Everyone served a master. Duty was the foundation of a good life.

So what was her place in the Lindsey stronghold?

The man came back to save Sabine from having to ponder her question.

“The guild master says for the mistress to go above stairs for measurements.”

The man seemed embarrassed by the idea of Sabine removing her clothing for measurements. His cheeks were ruddy, and he looked at the floor when he pointed at the stairs.

“Aye,” Eachan agreed. “That is best.”

Sabine headed toward the stairs. They were narrow but she climbed them easily. There was a door at the top. She rapped on it before someone called for her to enter.

The door seemed light, but it slammed shut behind her. Someone was hurrying around, closing all of the window shutters. Sabine blinked, trying to see clearly in the dim light.

“Hello?”

She took a few steps toward the sounds she heard but didn’t see anyone. She was just about to turn around when pain exploded on the back of her head. She staggered forward, reaching to cradle her head with her hands but the pain was too much to soothe away.

Blackness engulfed her.