She glared at him. “Why not imprison me in chains, then?”
“It’s not a bad idea.”
His rough voice transfixed her. She imagined her arms bound while his mouth moved over her bare flesh.
“I wasn’t being serious.” She shivered at the thought.
His mouth curved upwards. “But I was.” He captured her hands and drew them to her sides. Her skin warmed beneath the touch of his hands, and she closed her eyes to shut him out.
“Don’t touch me. Not if you’re going to end the marriage.”
His reply was to cup her cheek, threading his hands through her hair. It was a slow torment, one that pulled apart her willpower. She wanted to sink against him, tasting his mouth against her own. Fierce needs gripped her, and she struggled for composure.
“What will you do with me?” she managed to ask.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Her hands gripped the edge of her gown while she tamped down her frustration. Did he really intend to keep her here for the remainder of the day? She would go mad, were she forced to remain within the walls with nothing to do.
“Let me go,” she urged him. “Take me back to Ennisleigh if you must, but don’t make me stay here.”
“I wanted you to stay on Ennisleigh to begin with. It was for your safety, and you still disobeyed.”
“I only disobey orders I don’t agree with.”
He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “This isn’t about choices, Isabel. It’s about keeping you safe.”
“You cannot keep someone safe by locking them away,” she said softly.
She was helpless to understand the king she’d wed. The wall of responsibility hid the man. Only now and again did she catch a glimpse of him. A man who devoted himself to family and his tribe. A man who possessed a dark passion, barely concealed from her.
“It is my duty to protect you. Your father would slaughter us all if you were to come to harm.”
“He might. But only because it would be an excuse for war. Not because he cares anything for me.” A time or two, she’d run away from her father’s castle. The soldiers had brought her back, but Edwin de Godred hadn’t even noticed her absence.
Patrick didn’t answer. His face remained emotionless, a warrior’s cold demeanor. Isabel’s skin chilled with his silence. “The war between you and my father isn’t over, is it?”
He shook his head slowly. “Our marriage delayed it. But our people haven’t surrendered. We won’t give up our freedom to the Normans.”
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Your men will die, and my father will want your life as forfeit.”
“My life is already forfeit to the tribe.”
Anger surged within her, that he would consider sacrificing himself. “Then you might as well be dead. You don’t care about anything else.”
Hurt welled up in her eyes, and she closed them to hide the unshed tears. Why was she letting herself think of him as a true husband? He’d done nothing except push her away.
“They are my family. My blood.”
Isabel rested her cheek upon her hand, leaning upon the table. She traced a finger across the deep scars of the wood, wishing she could understand him. Outside, clouds suffocated the sunlight.
When she raised her gaze to him again, she saw the resolution in his eyes. And she wondered what it would be like to have a man love her, the way he cared for his brothers and his tribe.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Why do you live your life for your tribe and not for yourself?”
She wanted to provoke him, to see an ounce of feeling. But there was only emptiness in his gaze. “You know nothing of my responsibilities.”
“You’re right.” Her voice was hollow with the aching inside of her. “Because you won’t let me know you. I don’t know anything about the man I married. All I know is that you won’t let me be a part of your tribe.”
