Scarlet Moon (Once Upon a Time) (11 page)

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Ruth’s mind raced almost as fast as her heart. It was madness to think that this could end happily, with her the wife of an earl. Her thoughts foretold some grave danger ahead of them, even as her heart sang within her breast.

When the castle loomed ahead of them, she held her breath, a thousand emotions colliding inside her. Her mouth gaped in wonder at the castles sheer size. Within its shadow, stone walls loomed high above her, and she tilted her head back to gaze up at them. Around her, servants scurried to take charge of the wagon and the horses.

William jumped down, and for a moment Ruth stared at him, surrounded by his subjects and the trappings of his title. She quaked inside.
Who am I to aspire to this?

“Do you really have a hundred horses for me to look at?” she asked, nervously turning her focus to work.

“Probably more,” he answered, offering her his hand.

She took it, allowing him to help her down from the wagon. She felt suddenly self-conscious dressed in her trousers as the eyes of all turned upon her.

With a twinkle in his eye William raised his hand, and everyone stopped and stared openly. “This is milady Ruth. She is a blacksmith and will be here looking over the horses. Everyone please extend her whatever help she requires.”

Everyone bowed or curtsied as Ruth felt her cheeks grow hot. “William,” she murmured for his ears alone. “Was that necessary?”

“Entirely,” he whispered back.

She forced herself to smile at everyone, though inside she wanted to turn and run back to the village
and her father’s shop.
I don’t belong here.

A man her fathers age bustled up to them. He bowed low to Ruth, and she, again at a loss as to whether to bow or curtsy, only nodded in return. “I am Samuel,” he announced, and I have charge of the horses.”

“Samuel will help you with your work,” William said. “He is a good man and has the best eye for horses I’ve ever seen. There isn’t an animal here he doesn’t know well.”

“Good, then you can tell me which ones kick,” Ruth said, glad to be talking business.

Samuel chuckled. “I’ll do more than that; I’ll hold them for you.”

She smiled. “That would be much appreciated, Samuel.”

“I’ll leave you two to your work. Make sure she finds her way to the hall for supper, Samuel,” William instructed.

Samuel bowed again and Ruth just nodded her head again, feeling like an idiot. William turned and strode off, and she heaved a sigh of relief.

Amazing how a mutual declaration of love can cause so much excitement followed by so much awkwardness,
she thought.

She pulled a case from the back of the wagon and turned to Samuel. “Lead the way,” she said, falling into step beside him. “Lord William said something about a hundred horses.”

Samuel snorted. “One hundred thirty-two,” he answered.

“This is going to take a couple of days.”

He nodded. “A lady blacksmith, eh?”

“Yes. Someone had to help out when my brother left for the crusade.”

Samuel nodded. “Figured as much, though its a shame such a beautiful woman has to work in the dark and heat.”

“I manage,” she answered shortly.

“I meant it as a compliment, so that you don’t mistake me,” he said, glancing at her sideways. “I don’t doubt your ability to do it.”

“Thank you,” she said, pleasantly surprised. It was nice to have someone believe she could do the job without her having to prove it.

“We’ll start in the barn. We can get twenty done in there. After that we’ll have to catch them.”

“A long few days,” she muttered to herself.

Despite her misgivings, the first twenty were done quickly. Samuel had enlisted the aid of several young boys to hold horses and to begin rounding up the ones that were out at pasture.

They had made a good start before it was time for supper. She would have continued to work, but, true to his word, Samuel saw to it that she made her way to the great hall.

She walked in, sweaty and disheveled, and needed
no more reason to feel completely out of place. When she realized that there were nobles other than William present, she thought about running.

Or fainting. Fainting would work
, she thought as William came toward her.

“Glad you could join us,” he said.

“William, I’m hardly dressed for this,” she hissed.

He looked her up and down slowly, and she flushed at the possessiveness of his gaze.

“Mind your eyes. I do not belong to you,” she said, irritated.

“Not yet,” he said with a wink.

She stood, anger ripping through her, and did not know how to answer him. She balled her hands into fists at her side and wished she could hit him.

He laughed softly, baring his teeth.

“I hope you are enjoying my discomfort.”

“Actually, not as much as you think.”

He turned and nodded at a matronly woman who scurried forward. “Please help milady change for supper, as quickly as is prudent.”

The woman curtsied and beckoned Ruth to follow her. With a last look at William, Ruth turned and went with her.

The woman led her up a winding staircase into the family’s living quarters. They proceeded down a long narrow hallway until they entered a room that was the largest Ruth had ever seen.

A small army of servant women waited inside
with a tub of drawn water, soap, and combs. A dress was laid out upon the bed.

Ruth protested as they laid hands upon her, but her words counted not. They stripped off her clothes with her fighting them the whole way. “I have dressed myself since I was three!” she protested.

They said not a word, but picked her up and threw her in the tub. The water turned dark with dirt and soot. With a sigh she submitted to their ministration. She was soaped and ducked beneath the water twice. Then they hauled her out unceremoniously and began to dry her hair and body. Before she could bat an eyelash they had the dress on her, the bodice binding her tighter than any she had ever worn.

She felt as though her lungs were collapsing. “This won’t do,” she gasped.

“It will have to do,” one of the women told her smartly as two others attacked her hair with combs.

Then, scarcely more than a quarter of an hour after entering the room, she was ready to leave. She hesitantly made her way downstairs, feeling awkward in the clothes, which were not only more restrictive, but also much finer than any she had ever owned.
Is this to be my life?
she wondered in despair, praying not to trip on the hem of her gown.

William stared unabashedly as she entered the hall. She winced slightly as she smiled at him. “Well, what do you think?” she asked as she stood before him.

He smiled. “Beautiful. But, truth be told, I think I prefer you in the other.”

“That makes two of us,” she said, relieved.

William offered her his arm and she took it. He escorted her to the table and gave her a seat of honor on his right side.

For Ruth the dinner was half dream, half nightmare. There was exotic food the likes of which she had never seen. Barons spoke to her, mistaking her for a noblewoman. Then there was the discomfort of her gown and her own growing sense of unease at being in the place.
I don’t belong here and I want to go home.
She forced herself to eat, but the food, delicious as it was, held little interest for her. Her mind was full. Just a few hours before, William had told her a great secret and they had shared something beautiful and frightening. Now that man was gone, and in his place was Lord William, Earl of Lauton, who was bandying words with men who would never deign to speak to her if they knew she was not noble born.

If William noticed her misery, he gave no sign. When the meal was done, the others left one by one until she and William were alone.

“Did you survive?” he asked, suddenly enough to startle her.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted.

He nodded, as though he were not surprised.

He rose from the table and she did the same. “I want to show you something,” he said at last.

“What?”

He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and turned her around. There, lining one wall of the hall, were the portraits of William’s ancestors.

Ruth moved closer to them, William beside her.

She went down the line from the first to the last. When she was done, she walked back slowly toward the beginning and stopped at last in front of one portrait in particular. She tilted her head as she studied it and felt a chill dance up her spine.

“It was he who brought this curse down upon us,” William said. “Somehow I thought you would be able to tell.”

“I can,” she whispered.

“It shows, doesn’t it?”

“It’s the eyes.”

The eyes, indeed. I knew she would see what I see
, he thought. He stood for a moment just watching her.
She is so enchanting, so lovely.
He stared at her lips, so full and inviting. The memory of kissing them was nearly overpowering. He took a step forward before he stopped himself. It wouldn’t be wise to kiss her in public until their engagement could be announced.

To that end, he needed to speak to her father.
For once I’m grateful for the title, he thought. Else what would I say to the man—that I want to offer his daughter a dangerous life with a cursed man?

He shook his head. “We should get you home,” he said, heart heavy with regret.

“I need my clothes back,” she answered.

“I’m sorry, but we burned them,” he said. He
laughed out loud at the expression of horror that crossed her face. “No,” he said at last, “I haven’t had them burned. They should be clean by now.”

“I’ll be right back,” she promised as she turned and headed for the stairs.

“I’ll be waiting,” he answered.

He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples.
What have I done? What manner of life have I offered her? Death and pain are all the future holds for me, and it is selfish of me to make her share that.

He opened his eyes and stared in anger at his namesake. Many a time he had wanted to rip the portrait from the wall and throw it into the fire, but never so much as he did now.

Within minutes Ruth returned, looking far more comfortable, and he forced himself to smile. Together, they hurried outside to find the wagon waiting.

“Shall I take milady home, milord?” Samuel asked.

“No, I will escort her,” William said, forcing himself to answer.

The ride was long and torturous. He didn’t know what to say to her, and she seemed to be experiencing the same problem. He started to speak a half-dozen times only to have the words die on his lips. The horse trotted along, his hoof-falls and the creaking of the wagon the only sounds.

At last they reached the village. “You can drop me off at the shop,” Ruth said finally.

“No, I’ll take you home,” he insisted.

They rolled through the village and she pointed out her home.
How different it is from mine!
he thought.

William climbed down from the wagon. By the time he had reached the other side, Ruth was already on the ground. He slowly lowered the hand that he had extended to help her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” he answered, feeling frustrated.

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head grimly. “At least that’s honest”

She studied the ground for a minute. “There is more work to be done. I will be ready an hour after sunrise.”

“I will pick you up then,” he said. “Good night.”

“And to you,” she replied.

Ruth turned without another word and entered her house. William stood for a moment wondering what was wrong with him. He should have taken her in his arms and professed his love, giving her a kiss to dream by. He hadn’t, though. All he had managed to conjure up was a weak farewell, no more than he would have given a stranger.

He climbed back into the wagon and turned it around. “I am a fool,” he told the horse.“ I want her and yet I shouldn’t have her. I have her and I don’t do anything. I should have at least kissed her. More the fool am I for that.”

The horse whinnied quietly and picked up his pace. William leaned back, feeling wearier than he had in a long time.

Halfway home his foot kicked something. He bent down to retrieve it and saw that it was Ruth’s knife, still covered in blood.
Our blood.
He picked it up and reverently tucked it into his belt. He would return it to her in the morning.

“How did everything go?” her father asked quietly as Ruth entered the house.

“Well,” she answered, giving him a strained smile. She glanced over to the bed used by Peter. He was asleep, snoring gently, and she wondered how late it was.

“How many horses?”

One hundred thirty-two.”

He whistled low. “I can close the shop tomorrow if you need my help.”

Ruth was about to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but she stopped herself, remembering the nightmarish dinner experience and the silent drive back home. She didn’t know if she trusted herself to be alone with William, not just yet. Either she was carried away with passion or she was frozen with fear.

She nodded slowly. “I would appreciate that.”

“Done,” he said.

Ruth changed for bed and then lay down with a bone-weary sigh.

“Everything else all right?” he grunted.

She didn’t have an answer to that. “Everything else is fine.”

Slowly she rolled onto her side and tried to push thoughts of William from her mind. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face, lit with the fires of love as he looked at her. She could feel his lips on hers and the warmth from his body as he leaned close.

What am I going to do? Am I bound to the words I spoke in a moment of passion?
She wasn’t even sure she loved him.
Attracted to him, yes. Afraid of him, yes. In love with him? I don’t know. And what if I am—what does that mean? Can the two of us have a future that brings anything but pain?

She rolled onto her back again and glanced toward her father. He was still sitting up, staring into the fire. He looked lost in thought. For a moment she wanted to call out to him, to ask him what she should do.