She should have expected this. The chieftain of their rival tribe would certainly prefer an alliance with Laochre.
“And you told him yes?” Although she kept her voice calm, inside she felt as though a thousand knives were carving up her heart. Of course he would agree. Though she didn’t know when he would petition the archbishop for a divorce, enough money would buy anything.
“I refused his offer.” He stood from the low table and offered her a hand to help her up.
She sensed an underlying threat and crossed her arms. “Why? Isn’t that what you do? Wed women in order to keep the peace?”
A blackness descended over his calm, and he took hold of her waist. “No. That isn’t what I do at all. I came to tell you of his offer because you would know it soon enough. You deserved to hear of it from me, not anyone else. And I came to ask your counsel.”
She expelled an angry laugh. “What counsel? On whether to marry her in a fortnight or next season?” Her anger was so great, she wanted to lash out at something. She kicked the low table, satisfied when the remaining food splattered to the floor. “On whether to wear your blue tunic or your brown one to the wedding?”
He captured her, gripping her arms beneath his strength. Isabel fought him, but it was like trying to free herself from stone.
Lowering his voice to her ear, he murmured. “I wanted to know your desires. Do you still want your freedom?”
The husky tone of his voice, coupled with the nearness of his mouth made her cheeks flush. His body was pressed up against hers, and she felt every inch of his lean, muscled frame.
“Why are you even asking me this? You will choose whatever is best for your tribe. And we both know that I am not what they want.”
He didn’t speak, but reached up to stroke her hair. Isabel stepped back, lowering her head. “You know the truth, Patrick. I cannot stay here.”
“You want a divorce, then?”
She wanted to cry out no, to deny it. More than anything she wanted to stay with him, to be a beloved wife. But even if he did not wed the Ó Phelan’s daughter, another offer might come. She did not fool herself into believing that their marriage would ever be permanent.
His hands moved over her spine, caressing her. The length of his manhood showed the evidence of his need. And saints, she could not ignore her own wild desires. She wanted him to kiss her, to push away all the loneliness welling up inside. To love her.
“Just leave me alone, Patrick,” she whispered. A tear rolled down her cheek, for she could no longer hide the heartbreak she felt. “I want you to go.”
And perhaps then, it wouldn’t hurt so much.
Chapter Seventeen
Beforethesunrosefrom the horizon, Patrick reached Ennisleigh. Trahern and Ewan joined him, each in their own boat. It would take many trips to bring all of the islanders and Normans to Laochre.
With each passing day, his nerves strung tighter. Though he was certain the men and women would resent living together, he did not want his forces divided when the Normans arrived.
He wore theminn óirupon his head, the symbol of his kingship. Dressed in his finest clothing, he could only hope that the people would hold their peace this day.
They dragged the boats upon the shore and Trahern and Ewan accompanied him inside the ringfort. Whorls of smoke rose from the chimneys, and he could smell the faint aroma of morning pottage. His stomach rumbled, for he had not broken his fast.
“I will get Isabel. You summon the others,” he ordered. When he entered the donjon, men and women lay sleeping inside, their bodies twined together. He stepped carefully, moving towards his wife’s chamber.
Opening the door softly, he found her sleeping upon a bed, the coverlet tangled beneath her long slim legs. Her hair hung in disarray about her shoulders while she slept. Lug, she was beautiful.
He moved with stealth towards the bed and sank down beside her. She didn’t stir, and he reached down to kiss her awake. At the first taste of her warm mouth, he lost himself. When it came to Isabel, he had no discipline anymore.
He wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming, but he kissed her with all the pent-up need inside of him. His hands moved over her skin, down to cup the heavy breasts beneath her shift. His thumbs caressed the nipples, and she shuddered.
Then her eyes snapped open and she shoved him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Waking you up.” And the thought of seducing her had crossed his mind as well.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I am bringing everyone to Laochre. If what your father says is true about the invasion, we’ll need all the men fighting together.”
She paled but nodded. “Leave me, and I’ll dress.”
