And, it was more honorable to let her go as an untouched maiden. She could make a suitable marriage to a Norman lord and go to him as a virgin bride. He clenched his fists, his irrational temper darkening at the thought of another man touching her.
“I need to take her back.” Patrick set down the mallet, testing the strength of the palisade wall.
“A word of advice, Patrick.” Trahern leaned against the fence, his green eyes amused. “Take the chess pieces with you.”
Patrick could not understand what his brother meant. “Why?”
“You need to keep up appearances. At least, for now, make it seem that you are sharing her bed.” Trahern winked. “And the chess board will give you something to do on those long nights with her.”
Patrick handed his brother a replacement post. “It sounds as if you’re the one who needs a woman.”
As he strode away, Trahern called back, “I wouldn’t complain.”
He sent Trahern a look of death. “Gather supplies to send to Ennisleigh. She needs food and mead for the next sennight. Put them atop one of the horses and I’ll bring them along.”
At his brother’s teasing, his temper had softened. When he returned to the donjon, he found Isabel back inside the Great Chamber. She had found a broom and was sweeping cobwebs from the corners of the room. Her damp hair spilled down her back, and it made her seem as if she’d just come from a bath. She appeared vulnerable, and utterly alluring.
He gritted his teeth, forcing his attention away from her face. “It is time to go. Are your clothes dry?”
She lowered the broom and shrugged. “Well enough.” His wife turned and studied the interior of the Great Chamber. “You should take down that wall there, and open the chamber up. Then you could bring everyone inside for a gathering.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“You could make this place into one of the most powerful castles in Erin. It has wonderful potential.”
“It’s arath. Not a castle.“ His ringfort was half the size of the Norman structures he’d seen, and he had no intention of copying their designs. Her idea of changing the interior caught him by surprise. He struggled to envision the changes she was suggesting. “We’ve no need to alter the structure.”
“I disagree. You could not defend it during your last attack.” She ran her hands across the wooden surface, nodding to herself. “You’ve seen my father’s castle. If you change the design of this, it would give you more space.”
“And it would diminish the inner bailey. I won’t infringe upon my people’s homes, even if it is my land.”
“I didn’t say that. Widen the fortress. There is room. And when you finish the palisade walls, whitewash them. From a distance, it will appear like stone and your enemies will stay back.”
Though her suggestion had merit, he didn’t like her insinuation that the fortress was vulnerable to more attacks. “We’ve no need to make such changes. We’ll repair what we have and train the men to become better soldiers.”
“The bones of this dwelling are strong. Can’t you imagine it? Tapestries hanging on the walls. Musicians. Dancing. Feasting.” She smiled at the thought.
“I am not replacing my home with a Norman fortress. Therathhas stood for centuries.”
“Until last summer,” she said quietly. “More Normans will come. The Earl of Pembroke won’t rest until he’s taken more territory.”
He knew it. But he could never tear down the walls built by his grandfather before him. They had withstood Viking attacks and countless invader assaults before this time.
“We must be ready for them,” she said.
We. She spoke as though she intended to fight among them. “Why would you wish to stand with us? Would you betray your own father?”
Her expression faltered. For a moment he saw a flash of vulnerability. “I hope it would never come to that.” She tried to muster a smile, but her mouth tightened. “And my father has no need to attack Laochre again. As your wife, I—“
“He believes you are my queen,” Patrick said. And it could not have been further from the truth. He’d tried to keep Isabel away for her own protection. Sooner or later the attacks would begin again. And he feared the Normans would turn on them.
Isabel tugged at the cloak around her shoulders. “I know why you wed me. But I don’t understand why you won’t let me help you. I have a duty to these people. I can’t stay behind on Ennisleigh.”
Though her gesture was a woman’s plea, she conjured up unwanted desire. He tensed beneath her touch. What was the matter with him? She was a Norman.
She drew close to him. Her hair hung down, the faint scent of salt clinging to her. He found himself staring at her mouth. Soft and full, her lips fascinated him.
She’s your wife, his body argued,and a beautiful woman.
