Love Beyond Words

by Bethany Claire

  I felt the light tap of Harry’s foot on top of my own. A slightly more gentle warning than he’d given Calder.

  I winked at him to let him know I understood while I scrambled for a believable explanation.

  Morna was a Conall and she’d claimed that Raudrich knew of her. Perhaps I could claim relation to them.

  “I’m a distant cousin to the laird of Conall territory. As you know, Laird Allen is friends with the Conalls. We met while we were both staying at the castle many years ago–when we were children.”

  Paton chimed in from the table’s end.

  “And why do ye need to see him now? I’m surprised that ye knew he was here. To the people of this territory, Raudrich has another name. He’s had to keep his identity a secret to protect his familial clan.”

  He might as well have been speaking gibberish. There was so much about this time, about their customs and the rules among clans that I didn’t know. I would have to tread carefully.

  Marcus didn’t allow me the time to formulate an answer. “She’s in love with him.”

  The blood drained from my face as I shrank in my chair in horror.

  Every man around the table looked as shocked as I felt.

  I could see that Harry was struggling to suppress his laughter. “In love with him, ye say? Promise us that ye will wait to tell him that until we are all around to see it.”

  Meekly, I tried to respond with something reasonable. “I think that’s something best expressed in private.”

  “Right ye are, lass.” Harry stood and the rest of the men followed suit. “I think it best we all retire early. Ye two must be tired after yer journey.”

  Clearly the rest of them didn’t know about our night in their stables. Although, I couldn’t disagree with him. I was exhausted and I couldn’t wait to sleep on a seventeenth century bed. I had no idea what to expect.

  “I can’t speak for Marcus, but I am rather tired. Thank you all so much for your hospitality.”

  “’Tis our pleasure, lass. Mayhap tomorrow I can get ye to help me with something?”

  “Of course. I’d be happy to help you all in any way I can.”

  “Good.”

  It was evident from the way every man stood around the table unmoving that they were waiting to disband until we made our leave. Glancing at Marcus to make sure he was on the same page, we stood and left the dining hall.

  Baring my teeth, I whispered to him through my clenched jaw. “You are so dead.”

  He barely made it out of the dining hall before he burst into laughter.

  Chapter 12

  I watched Paton’s every move carefully as he worked to light the fire in my bedchamber. I wanted to be able to do it myself if I ever needed to. He built the fire carefully, placing only two logs to burn so I’d have enough light and heat to get safely into bed, but not so much that it would keep burning well into the night.

  “Thank you so much. I’m sure I could’ve managed it myself.” It was a complete lie, but as this was surely a task anyone from this time could do in their sleep, I thought it best to pretend that I was equally as familiar with the process.

  Righting himself as the flames grew, Paton turned to smile at me as he brushed away my thanks.

  “No need, miss. Tonight ’twas my job. Tomorrow, Nicol will see the castle lit at night.”

  I smiled at his use of miss when all of the other men would’ve said lass. It confirmed what I already suspected. Paton was the baby of the group.

  “Well, thank you all the same. Have a good night.”

  “Ye, as well. If ye need anything, I willna mind if ye wake me. ’Twould be better for ye to do that than go traipsing around the castle in the dark. There are far too many corridors for ye to get lost in unless ye are verra familiar with the castle. My room is at the bottom of the stairs, to the right.”

  As he closed the door behind him, I placed both hands on my hips and turned to look at the room and started to laugh. There was no way for me to brush my teeth or my hair—only a basin of cold water to splash over my face. While the thought of going to bed without brushing my teeth did ick me out a little, it was no bother to me that I would have to forgo my nightly ritual of proper skincare. A few days—or even weeks, for that matter—of a good water cleansing wouldn’t kill me. What made me laugh was thinking of Marcus and the reaction I knew he must be having in his own room.

  He was remarkably high-maintenance for someone with so little hair, and I knew having to pee in a small basin would horrify him.

  Smiling to myself at the thought of Marcus stomping around his own room cursing everything and everyone in this castle, I washed my face as best I could, used the less-than-ideal facilities, and crawled into bed in my dress.

  The bed was surprisingly soft and with the number of warm blankets spread on top, I found that while it was significantly lumpier than my modern memory foam bed, it wasn’t uncomfortable in the least. What was uncomfortable was the binding of my dress. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep with it on.

  If every one of the men within the castle walls hadn’t been perfectly respectable at dinner, I might have hesitated to strip down and sleep in the nude when there was no way to lock my door, but I knew Morna in a way that Marcus never would, thanks to the story she’d gifted me so many months ago, and I knew she wouldn’t have placed me here if I was in any real danger.

  Sighing with relief as I loosened the laces and allowed my breasts to spring free, I shimmied out of the dress and crawled happily into bed.

  I was lulled to sleep by the slowly dying fire.

  *

  Raudrich could see nothing in the darkness of night. All he could make out was the faint glow of the moon. He couldn’t see the road ahead or spot any branches that might be hanging down in his way on the forest path. He only knew they were drawing close from Pinkie’s descriptions of what surrounded them.

  Daylight was difficult enough, but once the sun went down, he caught glimpses of the fate he would face if the rest of The Eight were unable to heal him. The one hope he had was that his vision had not grown worse since leaving Allen territory, which meant that the progression of his blindness was indeed somehow connected to his time away from the castle and the fact that their spell of binding on the faerie buried below them was pulling more strength from him now that Timothy was gone.

  Pinkie was a talented navigator, which more than made up for his bawdy language and incessant chattering. The man had as much stamina for riding as he did, which allowed them to ride more quickly and for longer stretches than he’d expected. He was worth more than the amount he’d paid him. The journey would’ve been entirely impossible without him.

  “I believe we are here. I’ve never seen such gates in my life. Just who is it that ye are trying to keep out of here?”

  Pulling his horse to a stop, Raudrich dismounted and, with his arms in front of him, carefully made his way over to the gate.

  “These gates are not intended to keep others out. They are intended to keep a great evil in.”

  Pinkie laughed.

  “Is it a three-eyed monster, then?”

  Raudrich placed both palms on the gate as he felt around for the delicately hidden latch. “’Tis far worse. Surely, ye have heard the stories of this place?”

  Pinkie’s tone was surprised and more somber when he answered.

  “Aye, o’course, but not many such stories are true.”

  Grasping the small lift that only The Eight knew was there, he felt the gate give way enough for him to push it open.

  He was more certain of his steps on his way back to his horse. He knew the land around this castle like the back of his hand. He could make the remainder of the journey alone.

  “Aye, well, the stories of this place are true.”

  Pinkie spoke quietly and Raudrich thought he detected fear in his tone.

  “Ye are a druid, then? One of the mysterious Eight?”

  Raudrich mounted his horse with ease.

  �
��Aye, and here is where I must bid ye farewell. I’ve been away too long, and I doona know whether or not ’tis safe for ye beyond these gates.” He reached for his bag of coins and tossed it toward Pinkie. “’Tis all that I owe ye, along with enough to see ye settled and fed in the village tonight.”

  Raudrich extended his hand and waited for Pinkie to shake his hand in farewell.

  “Thank ye for this. It has been my pleasure to ride with ye these last days. If ye ever need my assistance again, ye know where to find me.”

  He waited until he could no longer hear the hooves of Pinkie’s horse retreating back down the hill before pushing his way through the gate. After making sure it was securely closed behind him, Raudrich rode the rest of the way up to the castle.

  The others wouldn’t be expecting him for at least another three days, which was exactly as he preferred it. This way, he could slip quietly inside, retreat to his bedchamber, and get a thorough night’s sleep before having to face the endless questions he knew they would all have for him.

  Raudrich sighed as he dismounted once more and guided his horse into the stables. This was the only place in the world where he felt truly like himself. There were many troubles ahead of him, he knew. With Timothy gone, they all faced the arduous task of finding another druid worthy of replacing him, and he could already feel the power of the fae they kept locked away rising again. But all of that could be dealt with in a few day’s time. For now, he had a long-awaited appointment with his sorely-missed bed.

  He could feel the warmth of his blankets, could sense the sweet dreams he would have just thinking about it. He couldn’t wait to crawl inside.

  Chapter 13

  There was a residual feeling of warmth lingering in his bedchamber as he slipped inside and quietly closed the door—almost as if a fire had been lit inside not long ago.

  Raudrich walked over to the fireplace and hovered his hands over the ashes. They were still warm.

  Paton. It had to be Paton. He was the only one with reason to want to steal his bed. He couldn’t even bring himself to blame him. The poor lad’s own room was barely larger than a cupboard.

  He held his breath and listened carefully. Within seconds, the soft rise and fall of someone breathing from under the covers reached his ears.

  If he woke him, Paton would wake the rest of the men and the night of precious sleep he’d spent weeks longing for would be ruined. He’d be damned if he would be denied his own bed the first night after returning home in years.

  Groaning, Raudrich walked over to the bed. Placing his hands on top of the blankets, he pushed the lad from the center of the bed over to one side so there would be room for him, as well.

  The lad felt lighter than he expected. Perhaps, the pudgy adolescent he’d known before he left had grown more slender in the past two years.

  Paton let out a soft whimper as Raudrich moved him, and Raudrich couldn’t suppress a laugh at the unusually high pitch of the sound.

  Kicking off his shoes, Raudrich removed his riding shirt. With his riding breeches still on, he crawled inside and fell quickly to sleep.

  *

  I dreamt I was sleeping. The dream was spotty, and dark, and sexy as hell. I was in the arms of a man with my head snuggled against his broad, firm chest. He was warm and I was more comfortable in his hold than I could remember ever being in another’s. I loved the way the stranger’s hand—which came protectively around my back—cupped at my breast as we slept.

  My head lifted and lowered with his chest as he breathed and his breath would lightly tickle my nose as he exhaled. Smiling, I slowly wound my right leg in between his broad thighs, pulling us even closer together.

  My hand lay gently below his chest, and I allowed my thumb to swirl small circles on the tender side of his stomach.

  His muscles tightened as he groaned.

  It was a deep, sexy noise and my knee seemed to slide gently up and down the space between his legs on its own.

  The slow rise and fall of his breath quickened as I felt him harden beneath the light touch of my knee.

  My own breath came more quickly. As I breathed in, the smell of him—sweat and earth—reached my nostrils, and something at the edge of my mind began to tickle uncomfortably.

  A thought was trying to break through, to break into my dream, but I fought against it. It was one of those dreams you never wanted to end, and as you feel morning coming, your conscious mind quietly urges your unconscious mind to just stay sleeping a little bit longer.

  The man shifted beneath me, as his left hand came around and began to roam over my body. I moaned in response to his touch, and then the thought I’d been trying so desperately to ignore came soaring into my blissful dream.

  This was too real—the warmth, the rise and fall of my head with his breath, the smell of him. It all slowly fell into place in my mind as I woke. I had no choice but to open my eyes.

  It was still completely dark in the room and it took a long moment for me to wake enough for panic and terror to set in.

  There was a man in my bed, and I was naked.

  Shrieking, I raised and scooted to the edge of the bed, bringing my knees back until I kicked him in the side with so much force that he landed on the floor with a loud thud.

  I continued to scream, then remembering that Marcus was only a room away, I began to call for him as I scuttled off the bed and pulled the mound of blankets onto the floor with me to cover myself.

  The man I’d pushed to the floor began to scream, too. Not the same loud, panicked scream I was emitting, but a deep cry of pain and confusion.

  The door to the bedchamber burst open. As I heard Marcus call out to me, I stopped screaming. If he was here, I was safe. I trusted Marcus with my life.

  “Laurel! What’s happening? Are you okay?”

  Shaking, I stood and wrapped the blankets around me and held them tight with my arms.

  “I woke to find one of them,” I paused and pointed to the stranger who was now lifting himself off the floor, “in my bed.”

  In between groans, my assailant spoke.

  “Paton, ye sound like a lassie. Why in God’s name did ye kick me? Ye’ve broken at least one rib, I’m sure of it. And ye woke me from the bonniest dream.”

  Completely baffled, I walked around the edge of the bed to look down at him. His voice didn’t match that of any of the men we’d met at dinner, and I couldn’t deny that he sounded genuinely confused.

  Just as he tried to stand, Marcus moved from the doorway and shoved him back to the ground.

  “You stay right there, you son of a bitch, or I’ll kill you.”

  I’d never heard Marcus so angry.

  “Broken rib or not, I’d like to see ye try, lad.” Pushing Marcus back with surprisingly little effort, the man did manage to stand. “Who the hell are ye, and what in the name of God is going on?”

  Marcus held a lantern in his left hand and shoved it toward me just as he threw his right fist into the man’s nose. The crack of it made my own nose hurt. There was no way it wasn’t broken.

  The impact sent the man tumbling backwards as the back of his head cracked against the stone wall a few feet behind him.

  Just as the man crumpled to the ground, Harry, Ludo, and Quinn appeared in the doorway, each with a candle in hand.

  Harry took one look at me and then at the man lying unconscious on the floor and quickly turned toward Marcus.

  “Lad, I doona know what happened here, but I’m certain ’tis not how it appears. Take Laurel to yer room and tend to her. My men and I will tend to Raudrich, and I assure ye we will get to the truth of what happened here. If I am wrong about his character—if he did intend the lassie harm—ye can rest assured that we will see him duly punished for his crime.”

  Marcus was trembling with rage.

  “Of course he meant her harm. He crawled into bed with her while she was sleeping. What else could he have meant?”

  Harry’s tone was sympathetic but he remained calm as h
e pointed to the unconscious man Quinn and Ludo were now lifting off the floor.

  “He dinna know the two of ye were here, and ’tis his room that Laurel was sleeping in. Perhaps, he dinna know she was inside when he crawled in bed.”

  With the adrenaline slowing wearing off, I was able to think more clearly. I wasn’t all that hard of a sleeper. If he’d tried to hurt me, I would’ve woken much sooner. And as loathe as I was to admit it, I could recall the beginning of my “dream,” where I’d rolled toward him and slipped into the space between his arm and chest.

  Gently, I stepped between Marcus and Harry and placed a light hand on Marcus’ arm.

  “I think he’s right, Marcus. He didn’t hurt me. It just scared me to death when I woke up and saw him. I thought…I thought I was dreaming. I truly do think this was just all a big mistake.”

  Marcus let out a breath that made me throw my arms around him in comfort. I knew what it felt like to be so worried for someone that when you learn they’re okay, breath that you didn’t even know you were holding comes out so quickly that it’s hard to stay standing. It was the same way I’d felt when Mom had told me that Kate had woken from her coma.

  His arms came around me quickly, holding the blankets up around me.

  “Are you certain, Laurel? He didn’t touch you? Didn’t put his hands on you?”

  There was no need for anyone else save me and this stranger to know the truth about just exactly how much touching had gone on.

  “No. When I woke, I was on one side of the bed. He was on the other. It just scared me is all. I’m so sorry for causing this whole mess.”

  Harry placed a light hand on my back.

  “This is my doing, lass. Calder was right when he said I shouldna have put ye in his room. I shall pay for it when Raudrich wakes. This is hardly the welcome he expected.”

  Marcus’ voice was shaky but I knew he was satisfied that I was okay. He took one look at the blood pouring out of Raudrich’s nose as Ludo and Quinn struggled to get him situated on the bed and winced.

  “I’m sorry for hitting him.”