Читать книгу Warrior Of Fire - Michelle Willingham - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCarice awoke to the sound of her chamber door being thrown open. Raine de Garenne stood there, his hood down at last. Why? He’d gone to such lengths to conceal himself that she’d begun to think he was scarred or disfigured in some way. Instead, he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.
His dark golden hair was cut short against his head, his face clean-shaven. His eyes were a deep green, his mouth a firm slash. There was a quiet sense of determination about him, an air of command that gave her confidence. She had lied before when she’d claimed she had seen his face. But now that she saw him, she felt a rush of self-consciousness.
Before Carice could say anything, he dumped sand upon the fire, extinguishing it immediately. Then he crossed over to the bed and pulled back the coverlet. ‘Come with me,’ he commanded, lifting her into his arms.
‘Where? What is happening?’ Her pulse quickened with fear as he strode towards the wall.
‘The High King’s men have come for you. And I suspect your father is with them.’
Dear God. Then they had tracked her here, as she’d feared. If they found her, they would force her to continue towards Tara, the dwelling of the Ard-Righ. She couldn’t bear the thought.
But Raine’s strength was comforting, and she rested her cheek against his chest, feeling the cool links of the chain mail armour he wore. It was a tangible reminder that he was a soldier, a man fully capable of guarding her.
He led her to the back corner, where a simple cross hung upon the wall. After setting her down, he seized the cross and pushed hard. A chunk of stones the size of a window moved inward, revealing an opening just large enough for her to climb inside.
She wanted to ask questions about how he’d known of such a place, but Raine’s swiftness revealed the need to remain silent. He lifted her into the space, and she found herself within a narrow corridor hidden behind the wall.
He stood upon the bed and swung one leg, then the other, into the opening, before setting the stone and cross back into place. Darkness enveloped them, and she kept both palms upon either wall, trying to ignore the cold. Her body shuddered, her teeth chattering.
‘Your hood,’ she started to ask, but he drew his arm around her waist and touched a finger to her lips.
‘I need you to trust me.’ He spoke in a low whisper against her ear. She supposed that was the reason why he had revealed his identity. Though she didn’t understand why he had wanted to remain hidden, now it seemed those plans had changed.
She obeyed his command, moving in closer to draw warmth from his body. He stiffened when she put both of her arms around his waist. She was so tired, so weak, but this was the only way to stop herself from trembling.
He brought her closer, surrounding her in an embrace. The moment her body was pressed against his, it was like an awakening. She grew aware of his hard, muscled body and the masculine scent of him. His strong arms made her feel protected, and it dissipated the fear.
The heat of his body was welcome, and she snuggled in close. His mouth rested against her hair, and she felt a subtle shift in the way he was holding her. It was as if he were conscious of the way they fit against one another. She stood between his legs, and against her body, she felt the sudden rise of his arousal.
Carice knew she ought to move away. It was a natural reaction of a man to desire a woman—especially when their bodies were so close. But instead of being afraid, she found that she was responding to his touch. She rested her cheek against his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. This man could have harmed her many times over, yet he’d not laid a hand upon her, except to guard and protect.
Curiosity wove a web of interest, and she grew more aware of him. It was a good feeling to be in a man’s arms. And though he was a stranger, she liked what she’d seen. Most maidens would be shy and awkward in such close proximity. But her own opinions had changed over the years.
No longer did she care about what was expected of her. She’d grown so weak, and the knowledge of her impending death gave her a courage that she’d never anticipated. This man had kindled an unexpected need, and she wanted to know more.
The chamber door suddenly flew open, and she gripped him tightly, out of shock. Men entered the room, and she heard her father’s voice.
‘I want her found. This is the closest shelter to our camp, and she must have been here.’
‘She might have,’ one of the men remarked. ‘But if she did, she’s gone now.’
In the darkness, Carice sensed Raine’s tension. He was listening to every word, his hands tight around her waist. Whether or not he would admit it to himself, his sudden choice to hide them was the action of a man who would not hand her over to her father. She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling so grateful for his protection.
He stroked back her hair, still holding her close. And the longer he held her, the more she wanted to explore these unknown feelings. She had never been in a man’s embrace, for her father had threatened all the men of the tribe. They would not dare to defy Brian Faoilin or touch his daughter.
But this was her life now, and she could make her own choices. In the darkness, she reached up to Raine’s face, touching his cheek. She explored the smooth surface, fascinated by him. He caught her hand and drew her fingers back to her lips in a silent warning to be still and silent.
The risk of being discovered was far too high. She knew that—and yet, she was tempted to seize a moment to herself. He was only going to push her away as soon as they were out of hiding. She wanted to embrace every last chance to live, even if it was pushing beyond what was right. Raine would never understand her need to reach out for all the moments remaining.
This man intrigued her, for he was a living contradiction. He was both fierce and benevolent, like a warrior priest. And though he claimed to be a Norman loyal to King Henry, she knew he was a man of secrets.
His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, his face revealing hard planes. A sudden heat rushed through her as she explored his features. During her life, she’d never had the opportunity to be courted by a man, and even her illness had shut her away from the world. Her father had isolated her until it seemed that only the hand of Death was waiting in her future.
Perhaps it was the lack of time that made her act with boldness. Or perhaps it was her sudden sense of unfairness. There was a handsome man beside her, one who attracted her in ways she didn’t understand. Being so near to him was forbidden...and undeniably exciting. Why shouldn’t she seize the opportunity that was before her?
Her pulse was racing, and the proximity of his body against hers was a very different kind of risk.
He leaned down and against her lips, he murmured, ‘Don’t move.’ The heat of his breath and the danger of discovery only heightened the blood racing through her. She was aware of every line of his body, of his warm hands around her, and the feeling of his hips pressed to her own.
Her imagination revelled in what it would be like to be kissed by this man. His mouth was so close to hers...and if she lifted her lips, they would be upon his.
Carice gave in to impulse and stood on tiptoe, brushing her mouth against him. She wanted to know what a real kiss was, even if it was given by a stranger. But the moment she kissed him, he went motionless. Instead of taking her offering, he grew rigid like a block of stone.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, when she realised the mistake she’d made. She wanted to tell him that it had only been a whim, hardly more than a means of satisfying her curiosity. But she could not dare to speak a word, not with her father’s men still inside the chamber.
There was a rigid tension within Raine, and she understood that she had overstepped her bounds. His hands tightened upon her waist in a silent warning. Unfortunately, she could not move away from him, because of the tiny space within the walls.
The voices in the chamber grew quieter, and eventually she heard the door close while the soldiers searched the remainder of the abbey.
‘Why did you do that?’ he demanded in a low whisper. The feeling of his mouth against her ear brought a rush of gooseflesh over her skin.
He was right—it had been nothing but a mistake. There were no excuses for what she’d done, and he wouldn’t understand her reasons. But even so, she answered honestly, ‘I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss a man. You were near, and I acted on impulse. I wasn’t thinking clearly.’
‘We could have been found by those men,’ he whispered harshly. ‘Or was that what you wanted?’ He touched his finger to her chin in silent chastisement.
She winced, embarrassed by what she had done. All she could say was, ‘Have you never acted without thinking?’
‘No.’
And she suspected that was true. This man was iron-willed, a strong soldier accustomed to making battle plans. His commanding presence suggested that he expected all orders to be obeyed.
She tried to extricate herself from his body, but he stopped her. Against her ear, he murmured, ‘We cannot leave yet. They may still be nearby.’
Carice said nothing, but turned her back to him. At least then he would know she hadn’t truly meant to bother him.
The tension lingered, making her feel ashamed of what she’d done. If he had stolen a kiss from her, she might have had the same reaction. It was no wonder he hadn’t kissed her back.
Liar, her mind chided. If he had kissed you first, you would have enjoyed every moment. She pressed both hands to her cheeks, wondering what was the matter with her. Standing with him in the dark was giving her a strange sense of recklessness. But then again, when you knew your life would likely end before the year was out, there was no reason to be coy or shy. She couldn’t bear the thought of the High King being the only man to ever kiss her. The chains of her betrothal were suffocating, and she fought against them with every breath.
Raine’s hand brushed against hers, and he threaded his fingers as he held her palm. His gesture confused her, for it was almost an apology. She squeezed his hand in return, wishing she could go back and ask permission before she’d assaulted his mouth.
His thumb began to stroke the edge of her hand in a silent caress. It confused her, because wasn’t he angry with her right now? She closed her eyes, though his touch echoed within other places in her body. She tried to focus on the freezing cold stone walls or on how weary she was.
Not the man who was quietly undoing her senses.
But then, he took her hand and brought it to his neck. Beneath her fingertips she felt the warmth of his bare skin, and she couldn’t resist the urge to put her other hand up, bringing them back into an embrace.
He leaned in, and against her lips, he whispered, ‘We are naught but strangers, Lady Carice.’
They were. And perhaps that was why she wanted to kiss him. It would mean nothing, and after they parted ways, she would have a memory of what it was like to kiss a man.
She kept her voice hushed and murmured, ‘That is why it will not matter to either of us.’
His hand cupped her face, and she felt the forbidden heat that was there. She brought her hand back to his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Upon his throat, there was a faint trace of bristle, as if he’d missed shaving there.
And then he did lean in, kissing her softly. It was hardly there at all, and she felt a sense of disappointment. He was holding back, treating her as if she were made of glass. She could almost imagine his silent question: Was that what you wanted?
No, it wasn’t. Several times, she had seen men and women engaged in trysts. On some nights after they celebrated feasts, she would sometimes find couples stealing time together. But there had never been anyone for her. And then she’d grown so ill, she hadn’t been able to leave her chamber.
The kiss had been an idle wish born of longing and loneliness. She found Raine de Garenne quite handsome...and she knew that there would never be anything more between them, beyond a day or two spent in his presence.
His hands moved over her face, framing it. For whatever unknown reason, his touch was now a silent question. He was waiting for something, and she knew not what. In answer, she tightened her arms around his neck. Both of them were aware that these moments were unwise, and if she were caught in the arms of a Norman, her father would murder Raine where he stood.
She didn’t care.
Carice had no time to react before his mouth descended upon hers. The kiss was hot, melting away her awareness of the outside world. Her lips merged into his, and she tasted a hint of mead upon his breath. His tongue entered her mouth, and her knees gave out at the unrelenting sensations. He caught her, pressing her back against the frigid wall. But as his mouth consumed hers, she felt none of the cold—only a desire that was transforming from a kiss into a frenzied need.
‘No one will take you against your will,’ he murmured against her mouth before he claimed it again. ‘Not while I’m here.’
* * *
He was behaving like a ruthless bastard. Raine knew it, and yet, he didn’t want to stop kissing this woman. Despite her frail body, there was a fire within her. He tasted her yearning for a different life, and she had kissed him first. Though it might seem that she was a woman of loose virtue, somehow he didn’t believe it. Her gesture spoke of a woman who wanted to claim every last moment of life before she went to her grave.
It was unnerving, and yet, he was entranced by her sweetness. She aroused him with the barest touch, and his wicked mind imagined touching her boldly, marking her innocent skin. But he would not force her into more—not as weak as she was.
Raine broke the kiss and listened intently. There was no sound of her father’s men, and when he peered through a tiny crevice, he could see no one. He supposed it was unwise to reveal his face to her, but he’d spoken the truth when he’d said he needed her to trust him. It was unlikely that they would see one another again, and if he saved her life, she would not believe he was guilty of killing the High King.
‘Do you think it’s safe?’ Carice whispered. Her voice was breathless, and her hand touched his. ‘Are my father’s men gone?’
‘Stay here while I look.’ He pressed her back into the shadows while he pulled the stone door open, climbing into the chamber.
The moment he entered the room, he drew his sword, listening hard. Carice obeyed his orders, remaining hidden within the wall.
When there appeared to be no danger, he moved towards the door, waiting. Though it was likely that the men had continued their search elsewhere, he knew better than to believe that the threat had vanished. He rested his hand against the door, keeping his sword poised. Seconds ticked by, and he threw open the door, only to find an armed soldier standing guard.
Raine shoved the man back against the wall, his sword at his throat. ‘Why are you here?’ He spoke in his native language, not caring if the man understood him or not.
The soldier’s face went white, but he stammered a reply in the Norman tongue. ‘The—the chief of the Faoilin clan is searching for his d-daughter.’
‘Do I look like the sort of man who would allow a woman to trespass here?’ He pressed his blade against the man’s throat, leaving a trace of blood.
The soldier’s hands were shaking, and Raine told him, ‘Leave your weapons behind and go. And if I see you or any of the other men return, you won’t breathe again.’ Never once did he speak in the Irish language, for he wanted the man to believe he was an enemy.
He released the soldier, and the man hurried down the stairs. Raine followed him, keeping his weapon drawn. The chapel was empty, and he crossed the space, watching as the man retreated. It soon became clear that the guard was the only one left behind, for a single horse was tethered. He guessed that the man had stayed to learn whether or not Carice had hidden herself.
Which she had, but thankfully, the woman had not emerged from her place within the wall.
Raine watched while the man rode away, and he wondered what he should do about the Lady Carice. He had been commanded to kill the High King—Henry had demanded it as the price of his sisters’ freedom. It would cause chaos in the midst of Éireann, making the provincial kings rise up against one another. And it would allow Henry to gain full control of this land, creating order where there was none.
Carice Faoilin could allow him to get even closer to the High King, giving him a reason to be at Tara. Why should he not deliver the missing bride to her betrothed husband? Especially if Raine intended to kill the man anyway? Carice would not have to wed Rory Ó Connor—not if he carried out the man’s death sentence.
And yet, she had already fled her father in an effort to avoid the marriage. If he tried to bring her to Tara, she would only run away from him as well. Or if Trahern MacEgan arrived, she would go willingly with the man she had already asked to save her. Raine turned over the idea in his mind, wondering if he should use her or let her go.
She kissed you, his conscience reminded him. What sort of man would betray a woman who had willingly touched him? Only a bastard whose soul was already damned. He hardened his heart, knowing that it was better if she hated him. He was a killer, not a man worthy of redemption.
Yet, he didn’t want to let her go. Not only was she the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but she had awakened a protective instinct within him. He wanted to guard her innocence, to see those sky blue eyes look upon him with gratefulness. She was unable to defend herself, and he wanted to slaughter any man who dared to threaten her.
There was no logical reason for his possessive urges, save her touch. It had conjured a fire inside him, stoking the need to caress her, to make her burn in the same way he did. The taste of her lips had aroused needs he’d buried for months. And if he took her with him, he could spend more time in her company.
After he was certain the soldier had gone, Raine returned to the sanctuary. Shadows clung to the stone walls, and he stared at the simple altar, remembering the men who had died in the fire. He could almost sense their chastisement for the thoughts he was considering. For a moment, he rested his palm upon the wall, hoping the men’s souls had found peace.
Slowly, he ascended the winding stairs and pushed open the heavy wooden door. He expected to find Carice seated before the fire or resting upon the bed. But she was not there.
He walked towards the opening in the wall and peered inside. She was seated on the floor with her knees drawn up, and her body was shivering violently.
‘It’s safe to come out,’ he told her, offering his hand. But she didn’t take it.
His suspicions tightened, and he stepped into the opening. When Carice didn’t move, he reached down and lifted her into his arms. Dieu, she was so light. And despite the gown and cloak she wore, her skin was like ice.
‘I was c-cold,’ she said. ‘And I didn’t have the strength to climb out. I am sorry for it.’ She was trembling, and he brought her over to the bed, tucking her beneath the coverlet. ‘I heard you talking to someone. Who was it?’
‘One of your father’s men.’ He reached for her hand and began rubbing at it, trying to bring warmth back into her skin. ‘I sent him away.’
She closed her eyes and murmured, ‘I am sorry for disturbing you here. I will leave as soon as I can.’
No, he wasn’t going to let her go. Not yet.
‘You need to rest first,’ he said. ‘Try to warm yourself.’
She nodded, burrowing tightly beneath the coverlet. He sat beside her, wondering if she would even survive the journey to Tara. There was no doubt that she could never wed the High King of Ireland. Why would Rory uphold the betrothal when she was so ill? Either the Ard-Rígh was unaware of her weakness, or he didn’t care. It was possible that Carice’s father held a lot of influence among the chiefs.
And yet, there was no denying her beauty, in spite of the illness. Her face was lovely, while her eyes were the colour of sapphires. Although her hair hung limply against her shoulders, it held all the mysterious shades of brown and red, like polished wood.
‘I can’t seem to get warm,’ she admitted, biting her lower lip. ‘My feet are freezing.’
He knew the fastest way to warm her was to lie beside her, curling his body against hers. But he didn’t want her to see him as a threat. She needed to feel safe with him, to trust him.
Before you take her to a wedding she doesn’t want. Before you betray her.
He silenced the voice of his conscience and reached beneath the coverlet to find her feet. With his hands, he began to massage the skin, bringing warmth to it.
Her eyes locked onto his with gratitude. Raine knew he ought not to touch her in this way, but she held him captive with her gaze. She stared at him as if she remembered every moment of their forbidden kiss. As if she wanted him to stay with her.
This woman was dangerous in a way he’d never anticipated. And the longer he spent at her side, the more she might bind him to her.
Abruptly, he covered her feet and stood. ‘Rest now. I’ll find more blankets.’
It was an excuse to leave her, for he had not yet decided what to do. An honourable man would bring her to safety at Laochre Castle with the MacEgans. Raine could leave her there with no regrets.
But he wasn’t honourable. He was a soldier, ordered to spill the blood of men, whatever the cost. He would have struck down her father’s guard without a second thought, except that he wanted the soldier to inform the chief that they should not return.
He shouldn’t care that Carice was a fragile beauty whose kiss had tempted him. She was a pawn in a game that he had no choice but to play. Henry held his sisters captive, and their lives depended on Raine’s obedience.
Kill the High King, and they would have their freedom. One life taken and two lives given.
He knew well what it was to be a pawn, used for another man’s ruthless commands. But when it was done, he would have his own freedom.
And so would Carice.
* * *
Her body felt as if it were frozen in a block of ice. Carice could hardly feel her hands and feet, and despite the layers of blankets, it wasn’t enough.
Raine hadn’t returned in hours, and she was beginning to wonder if he had left the abbey. He was a man of contradictions. One moment he kissed her like a starving man, and the next, he disappeared, as if he no longer wanted to be near her.
Soon enough, she heard his footsteps approaching, and the door swung open. Snow dotted his hair and cloak while in his hand, he carried a wrapped bundle of food. ‘Eat, and then rest again. We leave tomorrow at nightfall.’
She hesitated, for there was a hint of unrest in his voice. ‘We? I thought you were searching for Trahern MacEgan to bring me to Laochre.’
‘I did not find him,’ he answered, ‘and you lack the strength to travel alone.’
Carice knew that was true, but why had he suddenly changed his mind? Earlier, he’d seemed insistent that she leave him behind. Had her impulsive kiss affected him in such a way that he was now wanting to help her?
She rested her palm against her cheek, studying him. His face was like stone, utterly impassive. No, it didn’t seem that he was feeling in any way protective. Instead, there was impatience in his mood, as if he wanted to leave now. Or perhaps he was wanting to be rid of her.
‘What changed your mind?’ she asked bluntly. ‘You didn’t want to help me before.’
He sat down and unwrapped the food. ‘Eat something before you rest. You’ll need your strength for the journey.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’ She tried to sit up, and he reached back to help her.
‘Does it matter why?’
The cool tone of his voice bothered her, for he behaved as if she was a burden he didn’t want. ‘If you are too busy with your duties for King Henry, you needn’t trouble yourself on my behalf. I can go alone.’
His expression shifted. ‘You couldn’t last more than a mile, chérie.’
‘I made it this far,’ she said quietly. ‘And believe me when I say that no man will force me to marry the Ard-Righ. I will go to the west and live out the remainder of my days in peace.’
‘I was leaving the abbey to return to my men,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll take you with me.’
But although she ought to be grateful for his offer, she sensed that he had his own motives.
‘Eat,’ he repeated, holding out the bundle.
She glanced at the food he offered and noticed that he’d roasted a rabbit. So that was where he’d gone—to hunt for meat, as he’d promised before. Her stomach growled, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for the hot food. It was as if she could never get enough to eat, after all the years of suffering.
‘You need not bring me very far,’ she said quietly. ‘Laochre is hardly more than a day’s journey. If you bring me there, the MacEgans will see to my care after that.’
It was a reasonable solution and one that would not trouble him any more than was necessary. She waited for him to agree, but those green eyes narrowed upon her. Instead, he seemed disinterested in her suggestion.
‘Or I could escort you to the west, if that is what you want.’ He spoke with no emotion, his gaze not meeting her eyes.
Now that, she didn’t believe for a moment. Raine de Garenne had admitted that he was occupied with the king’s orders. He would have to return to his soldiers and commander. Nothing had changed, so far as she could tell.
‘Where are your men?’
He shrugged. ‘They are camped east of here. But I could delay my return to them.’
Her senses went on alert, and she didn’t at all believe he would journey with her, out of the goodness of his heart. ‘You want something from me, don’t you?’
He leaned forward and broke off a piece of the meat, his hand brushing against hers. She jolted at the contact, and his expression fixed upon her. ‘Perhaps I do.’
Her mind flashed back to the kiss, though she knew that was not the reason. Her cheeks reddened, and she asked, ‘What reason would bring you from your duties to act as my escort?’
Raine picked up another piece of meat and guided it to her lips. The simple gesture undid her good sense, crumbling away her thoughts. His thumb edged her mouth, reminding her of the shared embrace.
She chewed and swallowed, feeling a mild panic rising. Was he trying to seduce her? Had she inadvertently suggested that she wanted more than a kiss?
‘Not that,’ she insisted, returning his stare. He didn’t smile in teasing, nor did he react. ‘If you’re wanting a reward, silver pieces are all I can give to you.’
‘You have knowledge of the kings of Éireann, have you not?’
The pieces fell into place then. He could gain permission from his commander to escort her west if she gave him political information. He wanted her to share what she knew, so he could use the information against his enemies. But she was not a traitor.
‘I can tell you nothing,’ she argued. ‘All I know is what I have heard from my father. My knowledge would be of no use to you.’ And even if she did know something, she would never betray her countrymen to the Norman army.
Raine leaned in closer on the bed, balancing his weight upon both hands. At his nearness, she wanted to back away, but she forced herself not to be intimidated by him.
‘Your father made certain you were taught the Norman tongue, didn’t he? Because he wanted you to be able to negotiate between the Normans and the Irish. A useful skill for the Queen of Éireann.’
‘And for speaking to you,’ she countered. Her posture stiffened. ‘There is nothing I can tell you. And if that is what you want, then I must go to Laochre alone.’ She had no desire to reveal information that was never meant for a Norman’s ears.
‘You haven’t the strength for that journey,’ he argued.
Although he was right, she saw no alternative. ‘I will do what I must.’
‘Your father’s men will find you,’ he predicted. ‘And they will force you to return to the High King for your marriage.’
Perhaps they would try, but she wasn’t about to surrender. ‘I will never wed a man like the Ard-Righ.’ She ate more of the rabbit, sating her hunger. ‘Or any man, for that matter.’
‘Your father won’t give up until you’re found.’
‘He can try to find me,’ was her reply, though she knew it was true. Her father would not stop searching for her, no matter how long it took. Brian was a stubborn, proud man who delighted in having his own way—but he did love her. He wanted her to be Queen of Éireann, for it reflected well upon him.
Raine sat back, sharing the meat with her. It seemed that the more she ate, the hungrier she became. It had been so long since eating had not caused her stomach to seize with cramping. She savoured the food, and then he unfolded the bundle again, revealing dried apples.
‘Where did you get these?’ she asked, startled to see the fruit.
‘I found them stored within the kitchen.’ He gave them to her, and she was grateful for the fruit, almost greedy at the taste of it. But as she devoured the apples, she was reminded that the monks who had once lived here were now gone. It felt even more like they were trespassing like scavengers.
‘What happened to the priests who lived here?’ she asked him.
‘They died in the fire.’ He offered nothing else, but the dark tone suggested that he felt responsible for the deaths. She stopped eating, studying his expression in the hopes of glimpsing the truth. He claimed that he was a Norman warrior, and she suspected he was a man accustomed to killing.
And yet, there was an empty bleakness in his eyes, like a haunted man. As if he didn’t enjoy killing, the way a warrior might. She didn’t know what to think of that.
Why had he returned to this place? What interest would a Norman soldier have in an abandoned abbey? She couldn’t understand it.
‘Do you want more to eat?’ he asked her.
She shook her head, recognising his desire to avoid speaking of the priests. So be it. Likely it was better if she didn’t know what had happened here.
‘I intend to leave tomorrow at dawn,’ she told him. And as far as she was concerned, she didn’t need his help—especially if he was looking for information she could not give.
‘It would be better to travel at nightfall,’ he countered. ‘It’s too easy for them to track you. They won’t be far away, and we would be unable to avoid them.’
We? So he was still thinking of accompanying her. She regarded him with a frown, for she hadn’t agreed to that. ‘They are travelling towards Tara, and I am moving in the opposite direction.’ She wanted it clear that she didn’t need him to escort her. He could return to his men, if needed.
Raine evaded her searching gaze and answered, ‘The High King’s men have split up to search for you. If we do not wait and let them travel farther, then they will find us.’
Carice didn’t know why he was insisting on helping her, but it was time to be clear with him. ‘I would be grateful if you would take me to Laochre,’ she said, ‘but I cannot give you information about the kings of Éireann. I know nothing, and even if I did, I would not betray them.’ She eyed him sharply and added, ‘I can grant you a reward of silver for your assistance, but nothing more. And if you choose not to escort me there, I’ll go alone.’
Raine studied her, but his expression held a silent challenge. She didn’t know what to think of that, but she would not lower her eyes in surrender. Instead, she faced him down with her own strong will.
There was a faint hint of respect in his expression. ‘You won’t go alone.’ Though he didn’t acknowledge her offer of a reward, she suspected that he might still try to press her for knowledge.
‘Thank you.’ Yet despite his compromise, she sensed that the battle of wills was not over.
Raine gave a slight nod and commanded, ‘Rest now.’
She leaned back and huddled beneath the coverlet while he finished eating. Beneath the woollen blanket, her feet and hands were freezing. She tried to rub her hands to warm them, but they were numb from the time she’d spent in hiding.
There was no chance she would fall asleep in such discomfort. She managed to sit up, and swung her legs to the side of the bed, intending to go stand by the fire. But Raine stopped her. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m freezing.’ She hoped he might find her another blanket while she warmed herself at the hearth. Before she could get out of bed, Raine pressed her back down.
He reached for her hands and rubbed them between his palms. The heat of his skin felt so good, she closed her eyes, wishing for more. Then he bent down to her feet and did the same, massaging the frigid skin. She tried to stop herself from shivering but could not repress the instinct.
‘Do you want me to lie beside you for warmth?’ His offer meant no harm, but she questioned the wisdom of accepting his body against hers.
‘I don’t know.’ She met his gaze, uncertain of what he intended. This man unnerved her, and she worried about sleeping at his side.
Raine didn’t seem to care about her wariness. Instead, he stretched out beside her, pulling her body against his. He pulled his cloak over both of them and did the same with the blanket. His gesture was only meant to help her get warm, but against her nape, she could feel his breath. A sudden rush of awareness slid over her, bringing goosebumps to her skin.
He is not to be trusted, her mind warned. She knew that, even as she nestled closer to him. His presence was so dangerous to her good sense. Never before had she lain this close to a man. And especially not one who wanted her to act as a traitor.
She was fascinated by the contrast between them. He was muscular, a large man with a great deal of strength, whereas she was weak and softer. The hard planes of his body offered a shelter she welcomed. Even wrapped within the coverlet, she could feel the warmth of his arms around her. For a moment, she imagined that this was what it was like to lie with a husband.
A fragile twinge of regret caught her. At one time, she had dreamed of a life where she would be Lady of Carrickmeath with a husband and children. When her father had betrothed her to Rory Ó Connor, she’d been filled with terror and loathing. Brian had believed he was giving her a dream, not a nightmare.
But she felt no loathing beside Raine de Garenne. Instead, his embrace was welcoming, granting a solace that made her grateful. She had needed the warmth of his body, and he had offered it to her. Though she should feel guilty about resting beside him, she didn’t. Raine was a stranger to her, a man who might escort her to Laochre Castle, and then it was doubtful she would see him again.
She tried to close her eyes and find sleep, but the longer she remained in his arms, the more she grew aware of the heavy chain mail he wore. He could not possibly rest, wearing such armour.
‘You could...remove your armour if you want to sleep. It’s difficult in chain mail.’ She couldn’t imagine trying to sleep with the weight of the metal links pressing down.
Raine didn’t answer at first, but then he sat up, pushing back the coverlet before he walked towards the fire.
She never took her gaze from him as he turned to face her. Though he remained silent, she felt the censure in his stare. Out of courtesy, she closed her eyes. ‘I won’t look, I promise.’
‘Carice,’ he said quietly. ‘Would you prefer it if I left you to sleep alone?’ His stare held an intensity that made her uncertain of what he truly wanted. But it did seem that he was trying to determine whether his presence had made her uncomfortable. And that wasn’t it at all.
‘No,’ she answered. It made her feel safe to have him near. ‘I would rather have you stay. Unless...you do not wish to be near me.’
‘I will stay.’ His green eyes held her spellbound as he removed the leather corselet. ‘But trust that I will not harm you. If you want me to leave you alone, I will.’
He set aside the corselet and reached for the chain mail hauberk. Though she knew she shouldn’t watch, she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. His blond hair gleamed against the firelight, and he fixed his attention upon her as he removed the armour. Only a linen undertunic remained, but it was unlike those she had seen before. This one was worn, but made of a finer weave of cloth, like one a nobleman might wear. It hung open at his neck, and she spied angry, reddened flesh.
‘Are you hurt?’ She hadn’t realised it before. ‘Your skin looks as if it’s still healing.’
His expression tightened, and he paused a moment before lifting away the undertunic. His torso was rigid, resembling the honed body of an ancient god. There were scars of battle, but the reddish markings near his throat spread over one shoulder. He turned his back to her, and she saw that the skin was red and mottled, as if he had suffered from burns.
It hurt to look at the healed flesh, knowing how badly he must have suffered. ‘What happened to you?’
‘I was caught in the fire when this abbey burned. I nearly died.’ He still remained facing the hearth, not looking at her. ‘I saw the flames when my men were camped nearby,’ he said. ‘I alerted my commander, but he didn’t want to intervene. “It’s not our battle,” he told me.’ Raine rested his hands upon the stone wall, and the muscles in his back flexed. ‘I went there anyway, but I was too late to stop the raiders.’
Carice was glad to hear that he hadn’t been responsible for the men’s deaths. But she sympathised with him, imagining what he must have endured. ‘And you were trapped in the fire?’
He turned back and nodded. ‘One of the monks helped me escape. Then he died from the smoke. He couldn’t breathe.’ Raine’s voice was cool, as if it didn’t matter. But beneath his expression, she sensed guilt and regret.
‘Why did you return?’
‘After my wounds healed, I received permission to bury them. I do not think the bishop was notified, for the bodies were rotting when I arrived. But soon, they will come to rebuild this place.’
She couldn’t suppress a shudder, but she now understood why he’d come back. It was the right thing to do. His actions made her wonder more about this man and who he truly was. He was keeping so many secrets, it was difficult to understand him. ‘And now? After you take me to the MacEgans, where will you go?’
He lifted up the linen undertunic and donned it once more, setting the chain mail aside upon a chair. ‘I will return to the king’s men and my commander.’ He didn’t offer anything further but went to sit upon the foot of the bed.
‘What of your family?’
There was a trace of unrest that passed over his face. ‘Go to sleep, chérie. I have no wish to speak of them now.’ He stretched out beside her, on top of the coverlet. She remained facing the fire, acutely conscious of his presence.
But she found it impossible to sleep with him so near.
