“I don’t want you hurt,” he said.
Liar, his conscience accused. He didn’t want to be tempted by her.
“It is time to leave.” He extended his hand, turning away to break the spell she had cast.
“Wait.” Her eyes lowered, and she took his hand. “I saw the children today.” Her fingers joined with his, and the softness of her skin distracted him. “You wed me to save them.”
He wanted to pull away, but the touch of her hand seemed to burn through his skin. “You knew that on our wedding day.”
“But I never understood you.” Her eyes filled with compassion, and he grew uncomfortable. She didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend what had happened to his people. It was beyond anything she had ever experienced.
“I want to help them,” she said. “You never sent for my dowry, did you?”
“I’ve no need for household goods.”
“What of the gold and silver?” she asked. “I could help replenish your supplies.”
He didn’t want anything from her or her family. Though she’d made the offer in good faith, he couldn’t accept it. It was his responsibility to provide for his people, not hers. And he’d not let her become involved, particularly since their marriage was not permanent. He wouldn’t use her that way. For the same reason, he would not take her to his bed. Even now, her light floral scent seemed to intertwine about his senses.
“There is no need for your dowry.” He took several steps away from her. “We are leaving now.”
“If you take me back to Ennisleigh, I’ll only swim back again.”
He didn’t doubt she would make good upon the threat. Instead, he tightened his grip upon her hand. “Trahern suggested I chain you down. The thought did occur to me.”
“Try it, Irishman, and you’ll be sorry for it.”
As he guided her outside, he didn’t miss the stares from his people. The women’s expressions were filled with hate, while his men regarded her with suspicion.
No one smiled, no one spoke. Isabel kept her chin raised, feigning indifference. But he saw the slight tremble in her hands and the way she did not look at anyone.
“Is that our queen?” a young child asked, pointing.
His mother shushed him, murmuring, “No. She’s a Norman like the others.”
Patrick did not correct the woman, for she had spoken his own thoughts. Though Isabel was now his wife, she was still one of the enemy. And he needed to remember that instead of feeling pity for her.
He needed to place her back upon Ennisleigh, away from his people. And most especially, away from himself.
Ruarcstoppedoutsidehishome, a strange sound coming from within. His hand automatically went to his dagger as he opened the hide door.
Sosanna knelt beside a low wooden table, her shoulders huddled as she wept. Her tears brought Ruarc to her side immediately.
“What is it? Should I send for a healer?”
She shook her head and rested her cheek on the cold earthen floor. Her hand moved to her stomach, but she said nothing.
He helped ease her to her pallet, and it bothered him to see her so pale and fragile. It was as though she were dying and he could do nothing to stop it.
Herléinehung down, and she wore no girdle about it. Ruarc frowned, studying his sister closer. Without a warning, he moved his hand to her middle.
Horror creased her face. Ruarc couldn’t conceal his shock, couldn’t breathe. By the gods. She was carrying a child. From the size of her stomach, she would give birth by the end of the summer. How had he been so blind as not to see it?
“Who did this to you?” he asked, unable to keep the rage from his voice. “Tell me the name of the bastard, and by Lug, I swear I’ll slit his throat.”
His sister said nothing. She didn’t have to. Already he knew that one of the Normans had hurt her.
“Sosanna?” he asked, softening his voice.
