Rachel by Jill Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

Come.” He wrapped a beefy arm around Jacob’s taller frame, stretching to encase him in a warm embrace. “Come and eat and drink.” He led Jacob to a table spread with foods both salty and sweet, delicacies that he would enjoy more after he had been with Rachel. But he could not voice the request. Patience. Restraint. Had he not waited seven years?
    “Come, Zilpah, bring a flask and fill the bridegroom’s cup.” Laban’s voice boomed the short distance to where the servant stood, and at his command she hurried closer and thrust a silver goblet into Jacob’s waiting hands. “Drink, my son.” Laban lifted a cup of his own and drank, then motioned Jacob away from the bride’s dais to join his sons and the men of the city, who had come for a feast with more food than Laban had spared at sheep shearing time.
    Jacob glanced over his shoulder at his waiting bride, then reluctantly followed, a dumb sheep to the slaughter, allowing Laban to dictate his every movement, drinking the sweetest of wines as had ever touched his lips until he was not sure he could hold another drop. The bright lights and scents of male bodies mingled withthe scents of rich meats and spiced breads. But in all of the feasting and laughter, the throb of the wedding drum lingered, and one glance toward the bride’s dais told him Rachel still waited.
    I am coming, beloved. Soon.
    Another cup of the sweet wine. He tilted it too far, spilling a drop onto the smooth courtyard stones. Ribald comments followed, until at last Laban stood.
    “Your bride awaits you, my son. Wait here while I escort her to the huppa.”
    Jacob’s pulse had grown sluggish with more wine than he was used to, and he swayed as he stood. Two of Laban’s sons, Melcher and Darab, appeared at his sides, steadying him, while Laban trotted off to the dais and took his daughter’s hand. Soon. I’m coming, Rachel.
    He watched as Rachel and her father disappeared into the bridal tent to await him.

    Rachel paced her small bedchamber until her legs grew limp. She stopped at the door. Tried the leather handle. Still barred from the outside. Her voice was hoarse from weeping, and her screams had been drowned out by the music and laughter going on outside in the courtyard. The music and laughter of her wedding feast! Yet it was Leah who sat beneath the veils awaiting their hour. The thought brought the tears again. And then, for the briefest moment, the wedding drums stopped.
    She screamed loud and long. But the drum started up again as the door burst open. Her brother Tariq crossed the threshold in two strides, grabbed her arm, and slapped her cheek. Hard.
    “You promised your silence. Let there be no more from you.” He pulled a linen cloth from his belt and stuffed it into her mouth, then wrenched both arms behind her.
    She squealed and tried to spit out the cloth, but it was wedged just right, and he would not release her arms to free it.
    “Not this time, you spoiled child.” He pushed her onto the bed and quickly bound her wrists behind her. She fought and kicked at him until he yanked her around and shoved her against the pillows. “I will bind your feet if you don’t stop this now!”
    His tone and the look of anger in his eyes made her still.
    “That’s better.” He got up and closed the door, his eyes never leaving hers, then returned and sat beside her on the bed. “Why do you make this so hard for yourself?” Tariq’s tone had gentled, and she looked away from the pity in his eyes. “In a week, Father will give you to Jacob and all will be well. Why put up such a fuss for a few extra days?” He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, then leaned back, looking at her. “I will take out the cloth if you promise not to yell again. Do you promise?”
    She nodded. His expression held wariness. “I do not know why I should believe you.” But he reached for the cloth and gently tugged it free. “Do not make me replace it.”
    She shook her head, her eyes filling