Page 13 of Moon Craving

hung by a thong from her girdle--the one she used to pound on the table for attention or as

a weapon to punish servants. Realizing what her mother intended to do, Abigail turned to

run, but tripped on her gown.

The first blow fell across her shoulders as she tried to regain her footing. The

second came swiftly after, and soon Abigail gave up on trying to get away, but merely

curled into a ball, her only protection in making a smaller target for the enraged woman to

hit.

The blows stopped abruptly and Abigail sensed a scuffle above her, but she

refused to uncover her head to see what was happening. Gentle hands lifted her as a

familiar scent told her who held her. It was her stepfather. She raised her head to discover

Sir Reuben looked furious. He yelled something at her mother, but Abigail could not read

his lips from her position. She could tell the words were strained and angry from the

taught muscles in Sir Reuben's neck though.

Her mother opened her mouth, but he spoke again, shaking his head. Abigail could

feel the vibrations in his chest.

Sybil's eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger, but she left. And at that

moment, Abigail craved nothing more.

Sir Reuben said something but clearly was not attempting to communicate with

Abigail as he tucked her more firmly against his broad chest. He carried her through the

keep to her small bedroom and laid her on the bed.

"I have called for Anna to come tend you." He spoke carefully so Abigail could read

his lips without effort.

"Thank you." She was too distraught to be sure her words had voice, but she

hoped he understood.

He sighed, looking guilty--which surprised her. "I should have realized she would

not tell you of the wedding."

Not knowing what to say, unsure if she was capable of speech at all, Abigail looked

away.

Sir Reuben turned her head back. "Listen to me, child."

She gave him a look.