The closest man to her twisted to look at Reuben. “You did,” he said, his voice filled with awe.
“I did,” Reuben returned, a very masculine grin on his face. “I certainly did, but she had to say it aloud. Before the first kiss, she had to say she willed it. She allowed it. I heard it clearly and I felt—” He paused on a dramatic gasp. It was done so well that she hung on his breath, waiting for the rest of the sentence. “Magic,” he whispered. “Such beautiful fairy magic as unravels a man.”
“And a woman,” she said. It was the truth.
“Aye,” he echoed.
Good lord, what a story he was weaving, and she was as caught up in it as everyone else. And then he continued. He thunked the shoulder of the man nearest to her.
“I’ve saved you, I have. A shriveled cock, had you touched her. The waters if it had gone further. A fairy curse is an evil thing.”
Every man seemed to gulp at that.
“But I’ve married her, I have,” he said, “with all their blessing and the church as well. Did I not say my vows before the Archbishop of Canterbury? Did I not wed her in the most proper way? Do I not worship her as befits a fairy queen among men? Kneel, kneel before her, I say!”
They were already on one knee before her, but every man straightened his pose and dropped his head.
“Swear, men, swear to protect her with your very lives. She is the queen among us, and I am but her servant king.”
Never could she have imagined what happened next. The days when knights swore fealty to a queen were long gone, and yet every man swore themselves to her. At first it was a stuttered, “I s-swear.” But before long, every man there took up the chant. “I swear! I swear!”
Then she heard a female voice among the men. She looked to the door where the innkeeper crouched on one knee and his wife bowed to her, her cap askew as she curtsied. It was incredible and wholly inappropriate.
She was no fairy queen, neither was it clever to have men swearing fealty to her as if they meant to take up arms against England.
“I mean no harm to anyone,” she quickly said. “All I ask is…”
Oh hell. What exactly did she ask? It was more than safe passage back to Scotland. It was freedom from her uncle’s tyranny. A home in which to abide with her husband and raise her children. Safety to live her life was what she wanted. But how to phrase that?
“She asks that you keep her safe,” Reuben said, taking up the tale. “We travel to Scotland to claim her dowry. We travel to magic and beauty the likes of which you cannot imagine.”
“Yes,” murmured one of the men.
“Yes!” cried the next one.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” they chanted together, as if any of them knew what they were agreeing to.
It was bizarre, and yet it filled her heart with such happiness. How had her husband turned a frightening moment into a cheering mob intent upon her safety? Insane! And yet it was completely within his ability.
It boggled her mind, and yet she could not deny his power.
Her breath caught as he accepted the cheers as entirely appropriate adulation. And then, to her enormous relief, she watched him gently guide them back out of the room. Not a soul came close to her. No man dared approach her, though they murmured their devotion as they continued to bow in her direction.
Somehow, he had completely turned the situation to his advantage. And she…
Fell in love.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Reuben slept inthe next morning. He hadn’t meant to. Normally, he was awake with the first light of day, but everything was different with this woman snuggled tight to his side. Something about her scent settled him inside. It tempted him to linger in bed, to taste her skin, and to stroke—
“Hmmmmm,” she purred against his side. Then she jolted and he felt every part of her stiffen away from him.
“Iseabail?”
She blinked and looked around the inn room, her mind clearly taking a moment to absorb her situation. He let her move as she willed, though he sat up slowly to look at her. In time, she focused on him, and he got to watch the delightful creep of her blush.
“All you all right?” he asked.
