And she wanted more.
Chapter Eight
Raine held the cloak through the rest of the night, the scent reminding him of Carice. The guard had forced her to leave, but the warmth of her body lingered. He didn’t understand why she got under his skin, but he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her. And he knew, all too well, what might happen if they traveled alone together.
He reminded himself that no harm would come to her when he brought her to Rory Ó Connor. She would be protected, as the High King’s bride. And Rory would never have the chance to lay a hand upon her—Raine would make certain of that.
Morning light filtered through the bottom of the wooden door, and he heard footsteps approaching. The door swung open, and the sudden light was blinding. Two men came inside the tower, but he had not seen these guards before.
“King Patrick wishes to speak to you again,” the taller man said. “Come with us.” They bound his hands with rope before unfastening the manacles and chains. Raine bent down to pick up the fallen cloak, and before they could protest, he said, “This belongs to Lady Carice. She will need it.”
One of them took the cloak, and they led him back to the donjon. The ground was blanketed with snow, and it coated the top of the walls. He walked up the stone stairs leading inside, hiding his annoyance at his hands being bound.
Once he entered the Great Chamber, the scent of food nearly brought him to his knees. What he wouldn’t give for a piece of roasted meat or warm bread. His mouth watered, but he held back his hunger when he was brought to the king. Patrick sat upon a carved wooden chair with his wife Isabel beside him. This time, Lady Carice was seated at the queen’s side.
When Carice caught sight of him, she smiled. Though her face was wan from lack of sleep, there was a brightness in her blue eyes. Despite all that she’d suffered, her beauty tightened the breath within him. It was a dangerous game he was about to offer, one formed of lies and betrayal. If she agreed, she would despise him when it was over.
He was a cold-hearted bastard who didn’t deserve to walk upon the same ground. The kiss he’d taken had been born of the desire he’d struggled to hold back. This woman was a trusting innocent, and he, a man whose life was clouded by a ruined past.
And yet, Carice’s smile took apart all his plans to stay away from her.
“I understand Lady Carice went to speak with you during the night,” King Patrick began, using the Norman language. “Why?”
“She asked me to escort her to the west, away from the High King’s men.” He knew not what she had said to Patrick, so it was best to keep to the truth.
“One of our men can bring her there,” the king responded. “She would be safer with Trahern or Connor.”
“It is her choice to make.” Raine knew the man had every right to be suspicious.Oui, Lady Carice would be far safer with the MacEgans. But he faced the king and let the man draw what conclusions he would.
“You never answered my questions last eve. Are you prepared to speak now?” The king leaned in, resting his forearms upon the table.
Raine thought a moment, trying to decide how to begin. He turned to Queen Isabel and addressed her first. “I understand that your family is Norman, my lady.”
She glanced at her husband and nodded. “I was, yes. But my loyalties lie with my husband.” Her voice held a warning, as if he should tread carefully.
Raine acknowledged her with a nod. “Then you understand what a Norman soldier must do. And what happens to him if orders are disobeyed.” He kept his posture stiff, never taking his eyes from hers. “Or what happens to his family.”
The king and queen sobered as they understood his meaning. Carice’s smile faded, and she asked, “What happened to your family, Raine?”
He met her gaze but merely shook his head. This was not the place to speak of such matters. Instead, he directed his attention to the queen. “I have no choice but to obey my orders. And if I betray my commander by revealing them, it is not only my life at risk.” He kept all emotions from his voice, revealing nothing. “As I told you before, I was granted a few days to bury the holy men who saved my life from the fire.”
The king seemed uninterested by that and pressed again, “The Normans are gathering at Tara. I want to know why.” His voice was edged with steel, making it clear he expected answers.
Raine hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It is no secret that King Henry wants command of Erin. But he does not wish to use force to seize it. An attack upon Rory’s men is not his intent.” Those were the only truths he could give.
“I sent several of my men to accompany Killian MacDubh and Lady Taryn of Ossoria on their journey to speak with the High King,” Patrick said. “Are they in danger?”
“Not from the Normans,” he admitted. And this was true. Sir Darren’s interest lay in the death of the High King and nothing else.
“Why did you refuse to speak to us last eve?” the king queried. “You could have avoided an uncomfortable night.”
“Because I needed time to make my own decisions. My orders are to return to the soldiers. If I do not, the penalty is death. And my family will suffer for it.” He eyed Carice. “But I am willing to take a greater risk.”
“And what is that?”
This time, he looked at Carice and offered, “I have agreed to grant Lady Carice’s request to escort her to the west before I return to my duties.”
“It is not necessary,” the king began to argue, but Carice raised a hand and intervened.
