It was suggested that those Jews in Cantlecroft might be overdue for a lesson on their real place in Christendom, particularly if they had become so bold as to believe they could cheat the archbishop himself.
When Aaron’s wife vouched for her spouse’s honesty and swore even upon the Old Testament that she had counted the coins herself, the court shook their heads in disgust.
The Goldsmiths hung together.
That might have been that, if Aaron had not been so well-liked and respected in Cantlecroft. He had been God-fearing, if not Christian, he had raised his sons well and he was a man who could be relied upon.
Additionally, Aaron was oft teased for his soft heart - he was known to discount his prices on wedding bands when couples could not afford them. Nay, the consensus was that Aaron Goldsmith was a good man.
He did not cheat his customers, though many of them knew they could have been cheated as easily as not. The acquisition of jewelry was beyond the opportunity of most and certainly not something one could acquire often enough to show real skill in choosing stones or assessing the weight of a setting.
The people of Cantlecroft trusted Aaron, so when he pledged a thing was true, they believed him.
He had sworn that he had made the full shipment and all of Cantlecroft knew it.
It was therefore believed in Cantlecroft that Aaron had been falsely accused and falsely convicted, that he was innocent of the charge brought against him, and that his death had been unjust.
The archbishop had clearly made a mistake.
Furthermore, it was sinful to execute the innocent, this was widely agreed in the taverns of Cantlecroft in the weeks after Aaron’s execution. And sins, as every good Christian knew, had a way of attracting the vengeance of God. Sin and the killing of innocents could not be tolerated.
So, because of the journey of one gold coin, Horace Thorogood III died before his time, as did Aaron Goldsmith and his wife.
And even more importantly for Niall, Viviane and all those they held dear, the murmuring in Cantlecroft began.
*
Chapter Ten
Viviane could have just spit. Niall ran more hot and cold than the taps that interested him so much!
She nearly growled the whole way back to the shop and was glad when her patroness didn’t ask any questions. In fact, Barb welcomed her with undisguised delight.
The store was uncommonly busy that morning, precisely the opposite as Barb had predicted. The rain seemed to have driven everyone on the island out in search of a book and a cup of tea. Viviane took a deep breath, forced a smile and started to work. Her usually even temper was quickly restored by visits from a few of her regulars.
Barb must be right - Niall wasn’t nearly as disinterested as he’d appeared to be. After all, he’d touched her so gently this morning and been intent on giving her pleasure. And, he had followed her - of course, he was her own Gawain!
He just had things on his mind.
Although Viviane couldn’t imagine what they could be. What could be more important than spending time with her, now that they were reunited again? She puzzled over it all morning, until inspiration struck.
He was preparing to court her, of course. He must be planning a surprise, or acquiring a token of his affections, or doing something similar that required Viviane’s absence. What better excuse than to send her back to work?
The very thought put Viviane’s mood back on an even keel.
By lunchtime, she was ready to let Niall persuade her to kiss him again. In fact, she was starting to get a bit curious as to what he would do, or what he would bring her. What kind of gesture would a knight like Niall make? Viviane didn’t know and curiosity gnawed at her.
But Niall didn’t show.
By mid-afternoon, Viviane was starting to be concerned. Niall had absolutely no tendency to miss meals. What had happened to him?
Still Niall made no appearance. Viviane kept glancing out the door, but there was no sign of him at all.
Just before closing at six, Viviane finally had a moment to herself and decided to make it count. She headed straight for the relationship section of the store, determined to find out what to do when Niall did come back. She rummaged through half a dozen books, and quickly found the common thread.
In matters between men and women, in questions of love, the real issue was communication, according to the wisdom recorded here. Because men and woman effectively spoke different languages, these books insisted, it was critical to be blunt.
A woman must tell her man exactly what she wanted of him.
Viviane was quite certain she could do that. That must have been what happened this morning - they just had a misunderstanding, as apparently countless other couples did. Viviane’s spirits soared. And if Niall didn’t understand what she wanted at this point, well, she would have to be really blunt!
Fortunately she not only knew what she wanted, but she had a really good idea of how to tell him, too. What better way to communicate her expectations than to let Niall read her book? It was a terrifying proposition, because no one had read that book yet besides Viviane, but she knew that was the perfect course.
After all, it was a romance and Niall - or her version of him - played the starring role. Vastly reassured now that her course was clear, Viviane smiled and started to put the book back on the shelf.
“Hey, witchy woman,” Monty said so close beside her that Viviane jumped. “Like, what’s happening?”
“Oh, it’s been a really busy day.” Viviane busied herself with putting the book away, blushing when Monty tilted his head to read the title.
His lips had thinned with disapproval by the time she looked up again. “So, like, where’s your friend? The big guy?”
“He had things to do today and I was working anyhow.” Viviane smiled, hoping Monty wouldn’t ask for more details. She would have stepped past him and returned to the counter, but Monty moved directly into her path.
His expression was remarkably grim. “What about last night? Did you really bring him home?”
“Monty!” Viviane’s cheeks were hot and she was very aware of the last few customers glancing their way. “That’s not for you to know!”
“Isn’t it? Jeez Louise, Viviane, I thought we had something going!” Monty scowled at her and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Something?”
“Yeah! We had dinner together! A lot.”
Viviane was confused. People didn’t eat with their sworn enemies, she knew, and the sharing of meals considered companionable. Beyond that, she had no idea what Monty meant.
“Yes,” she acknowledged hesitantly.
He cast out his hands. “I thought we were like friends!”
Relief washed over Viviane. “Of course, we are friends, Monty. Why would you question that?”
For the first time since his arrival, Monty grinned. “All right! Well, then, I wanted to ask you about something. See, it’s almost the full moon, and you might not know this, but there’s lots of witches on the island.”
“I haven’t seen any.” Viviane was intrigued to hear of the witches here - having been condemned as one, she thought it quite natural to want to know more.
“Yeah, well, you might be surprised. Anyhow, they have a sabbat on the full moon, and since I like have connections, I’ve gotten us an invitation.” He winked. “This coming Saturday night. What do you think?”
Viviane was intrigued. “But what’s a sabbat?”
“It’s a celebration, kind of a party, maybe dancing and food and drink. Some kind of Goddess stuff involved that I don’t understand, but hey, live and learn!” Monty’s grin widened. “Wanna go?”
Live and learn indeed. That seemed to be Viviane’s new motto. “Oh, yes, I’d like that.”
“Great!” Monty’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Just us, okay?”
Viviane laughed, immediately seeing his meaning. “Oh, Niall doesn’t believe in magic. I’m sure he has no interest in joining us.”
<
br /> “Cool!” Monty leaned closer. “How about dinner tonight?”
Viviane’s gaze strayed tellingly to the door. She did want to be here when Niall came back, especially if he had spent the day planning some surprise for her. “Um, no, I don’t think so.”
Monty looked annoyed and she hastened to make things better. Monty had been a great help to her and Viviane didn’t want him to be angry. “But thank you for your offer…”
Monty waved her off. “A guy’s gotta make do with what he gets, I guess,” he muttered.
“But Monty!”
“Forget I said anything!” He strode out of the shop just as Mrs. Haggerty came in for her weekly allotment of romance novels.
“Oh, Viviane, don’t lock the door on me yet!” Mrs. Haggerty cried. “I need my fix and I need it tonight. Nothing like a rainy night to turn a body’s thoughts to -” she winked boldly as she stepped into the shop. “- you know!”
Monty disappeared down the street, his shoulders hunched, his hands shoved into his pockets. Viviane couldn’t very well go after him, not since Mrs. Haggerty did come specifically to talk to her.
Reluctantly she closed the door and smiled. “I’ve put a few new ones aside for you, ones that I thought you might like.”
“Oh good!”
*
Half an hour later, Viviane waved from the doorway as Mrs. Haggerty headed on her way, a thorough discussion of new books having been completed. That lady left with a good dozen more than the ones she had ordered, all those additions based on Viviane’s recommendations. Barb was whistling as she put the cash register through its nightly ceremony.
As Viviane locked the door, she took a good look at the quiet road and empty sidewalks. The rain fell on the silent street and trickled down to the harbor.
Monty was long gone and Niall was still nowhere in sight.
Had something happened to him? Viviane folded her arms about herself, Monty forgotten, and worried.
“You’re wrong, you know,” Barb said and Viviane jumped.
“About what?”
Barb smiled wryly as she tallied the totals for the afternoon. “About Buns of Steel.”
Viviane had no idea what her boss was talking about.
“Niall,” Barb clarified. The cash register clattered away and spewed a length of tape into her waiting hands. “He’s not going to stand by and let you go to a sabbat with Monty alone. I’d bet my last dollar on it.”
“Well, he’s not going to stop me from going.” Viviane picked up a stack of books to be reshelved and absently stuffed them back on the shelves. She looked out the windows again and again, wondering where he was.
Barb grinned. “Then you can count on him going with you. Party of three.” She raised her eyebrows expressively and shook her head. “Could be more of a crowd than Monty has in mind.”
But Viviane didn’t want to hurt Monty’s feelings. “Well, I’ll just tell Niall not to come, as simple as that,” she declared and hefted a stack of books from the counter, smiling confidently for Barb. “He’s not interested in magic or witches, anyway.”
Barb was far from persuaded. “He’s interested in you, though.”
Viviane clasped the books to her chest, savoring her boss’s conviction of that fact.
Barb didn’t look up. “If you tell him not to come, he’ll just follow you, like a stubborn old dog - if you’ll pardon the analogy - tracking his favorite bone.” She shrugged, her shrewd glance falling on Viviane, her voice falling low. “Unless he’s already got another favorite bone.”
It took Viviane only a heartbeat to understand and then she was outraged. She dropped the books back on the counter. “Barb! Niall isn’t like that! He said he came back for me and that he wouldn’t leave without me. Why, he must be upstairs already, waiting for me!”
“Uh huh.” Barb counted bills as though she wasn’t paying attention, but Viviane knew her employer wasn’t convinced of Niall’s good intentions.
It was some consolation that that was only because Barb was worried about her. Viviane knew that her employer wasn’t nearly as hard-hearted as she liked to appear, and she appreciated Barb’s concern.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Barb,” Viviane said softly. “I know that Niall is the man for me and he knows it too.”
Barb looked up, shooting a telling glance over her glasses as Viviane leaned on the counter. “You see, you just don’t know how he is. He’s a man who keeps his word, a man who honors women and keeps his promises. He’s a knight…”
“You mean, like a knight,” Barb interrupted tersely. “There aren’t any real knights any more. Those re-enactment types or men’s fraternities don’t count.”
“Right!” Viviane straightened after her slip and continued carefully. That was she got for chattering on! “Niall’s like a knight, like one of the knights in those stories, a knight who rides in to sweep a woman off her feet.”
Barb looked wry. “And you would be the damsel in distress?”
Viviane smiled with confidence in her role. “Oh yes, I think so.”
The older woman shook her head and braced a hand on the counter. “There are no men like that anymore, Viviane.” She gestured to the wall of romance books, her expression deadly serious. “Don’t confuse real life with fiction. I’d hate to see you get burned.”
Viviane frowned, but Barb returned to the task of counting money and she knew better than to interrupt.
How could she be burned when there was no fire in her room?
And what did fire have to do with Niall?
Other than the heat he awakened with his touch. Viviane smiled and finished shelving the books, more than looking forward to finding him upstairs.
Of course he would be there. She knew she could rely on Niall.
And he would have a wondrous surprise for her, one intended to win her heart and make her his own.
It would be perfect.
*
It is the way of a flagon of ale to tempt a man to have another. Niall wasn’t helped by the fact that each time the coinage of this realm passed under his nose, he saw the date stamped or printed upon it, yet more evidence that he was not where he belonged.
And perhaps beyond the possibility of return. His word might be broken irrevocably, his solemn pledge as ashes in the wind. That knowledge, too, drove him to have another, if only to bolster him against the assault of the truth.
Derek proved to be a man well versed in how matters worked and had no qualms about explaining all and sundry to Niall. They talked and talked as they drank and drank. Niall tallied vast lists of numbers in his head, laughing when Derek was clearly impressed.
He divided, multiplied and subtracted with equal alacrity, although those talents were somewhat adversely affected by the ale as the night went on. Derek’s explanations also began to suffer, but neither man particularly heeded the change.
Indeed, they toasted each other’s cleverness and called for another round.
’Twas well past midnight when they were cast from the tavern for their poor singing. They waved good night to each other, two men who did the math and were now far better friends than they had been just hours past, then stumbled in the directions of their own pallets.
Niall made his uneven way towards Viviane’s abode, hauling the bag filled with his mail with no small effort. He sincerely hoped she would let him in. The rain was cold, his knee was aching. He wanted only to sleep on the floor, sheltered from the downpour, although a smile from the lady would not be unwelcome.
Niall’s steps fell a little faster at the prospect. He found the door unlatched and leaned his brow against the frame in relief, his heart thudding that this lady should show him such compassion. Niall’s loins tightened in recollection of Viviane’s smile. She did prompt a feeling within him, a sense of power that recalled the days when he had not been a lowly sentry. He felt bold and brave in her presence, he lived again as a knight who was honored.
Niall barely crossed the threshold
before the lady herself gasped aloud.
“Niall! You’re here!”
As he looked up, Viviane came flying down the stairs, her hair unbound, her feet bare and her eyes wide. Niall saw the traces of her tears just before she cast herself into his arms and he caught her, instinctively holding her close. Her heartbeat fluttered beneath his palm like a wild bird, she clutched at his neck as though she had to reassure herself that he was real.
She had been worried for him. Affection flooded through Niall and he cradled her against his chest, wanting only to ease her concern.
It had been a long time since a woman who was not his kin had worried for Niall of Malloy.
“I was so afraid something had happened to you! I was worried when you were out so late and you didn’t come back even for a meal and I was afraid something might have happened to you.” Viviane pulled back, her eyes luminous yet lit with fear, her fingertips grazing his cheek. “Are you all right? Were you lost? Did anyone take advantage of you or trick you? Don’t tell me that you were robbed!”
And in that moment, staring into her wondrous eyes, ’twas all so perfectly clear. Niall held the most beautiful woman he had ever known in his arms, she was concerned for his sorry hide, she made him feel like a hero returned victorious.
Viviane was a woman who desired him, and Niall was a man who desired her.
It could be no more simple than that.
Niall enveloped Viviane’s delicate jaw in his hand, he tipped her face up to his. “You have no need to fret,” he murmured. “I am here and all is aright.”
The lady parted her lips but Niall granted her no chance to speak before he indulged his completely natural desire for her kiss. He bent his head and slanted his lips across the sweetness of hers, claiming her and silencing her in one move.
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