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No, he wasn’t going to let her go. Not yet.
‘You need to rest first,’ he said. ‘Try to warm yourself.’
She nodded, burrowing tightly beneath the coverlet. He sat beside her, wondering if she would even survive the journey to Tara. There was no doubt that she could never wed the High King of Ireland. Why would Rory uphold the betrothal when she was so ill? Either the Ard-Rígh was unaware of her weakness, or he didn’t care. It was possible that Carice’s father held a lot of influence among the chiefs.
And yet, there was no denying her beauty, in spite of the illness. Her face was lovely, while her eyes were the colour of sapphires. Although her hair hung limply against her shoulders, it held all the mysterious shades of brown and red, like polished wood.
‘I can’t seem to get warm,’ she admitted, biting her lower lip. ‘My feet are freezing.’
He knew the fastest way to warm her was to lie beside her, curling his body against hers. But he didn’t want her to see him as a threat. She needed to feel safe with him, to trust him.
Before you take her to a wedding she doesn’t want. Before you betray her.
He silenced the voice of his conscience and reached beneath the coverlet to find her feet. With his hands, he began to massage the skin, bringing warmth to it.
Her eyes locked onto his with gratitude. Raine knew he ought not to touch her in this way, but she held him captive with her gaze. She stared at him as if she remembered every moment of their forbidden kiss. As if she wanted him to stay with her.
This woman was dangerous in a way he’d never anticipated. And the longer he spent at her side, the more she might bind him to her.
Abruptly, he covered her feet and stood. ‘Rest now. I’ll find more blankets.’
It was an excuse to leave her, for he had not yet decided what to do. An honourable man would bring her to safety at Laochre Castle with the MacEgans. Raine could leave her there with no regrets.
But he wasn’t honourable. He was a soldier, ordered to spill the blood of men, whatever the cost. He would have struck down her father’s guard without a second thought, except that he wanted the soldier to inform the chief that they should not return.
He shouldn’t care that Carice was a fragile beauty whose kiss had tempted him. She was a pawn in a game that he had no choice but to play. Henry held his sisters captive, and their lives depended on Raine’s obedience.
Kill the High King, and they would have their freedom. One life taken and two lives given.
He knew well what it was to be a pawn, used for another man’s ruthless commands. But when it was done, he would have his own freedom.
And so would Carice.
* * *
Her body felt as if it were frozen in a block of ice. Carice could hardly feel her hands and feet, and despite the layers of blankets, it wasn’t enough.
Raine hadn’t returned in hours, and she was beginning to wonder if he had left the abbey. He was a man of contradictions. One moment he kissed her like a starving man, and the next, he disappeared, as if he no longer wanted to be near her.
Soon enough, she heard his footsteps approaching, and the door swung open. Snow dotted his hair and cloak while in his hand, he carried a wrapped bundle of food. ‘Eat, and then rest again. We leave tomorrow at nightfall.’
She hesitated, for there was a hint of unrest in his voice. ‘We? I thought you were searching for Trahern MacEgan to bring me to Laochre.’
‘I did not find him,’ he answered, ‘and you lack the strength to travel alone.’
Carice knew that was true, but why had he suddenly changed his mind? Earlier, he’d seemed insistent that she leave him behind. Had her impulsive kiss affected him in such a way that he was now wanting to help her?
She rested her palm against her cheek, studying him. His face was like stone, utterly impassive. No, it didn’t seem that he was feeling in any way protective. Instead, there was impatience in his mood, as if he wanted to leave now. Or perhaps he was wanting to be rid of her.
‘What changed your mind?’ she asked bluntly. ‘You didn’t want to help me before.’
He sat down and unwrapped the food. ‘Eat something before you rest. You’ll need your strength for the journey.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’ She tried to sit up, and he reached back to help her.
‘Does it matter why?’
The cool tone of his voice bothered her, for he behaved as if she was a burden he didn’t want. ‘If you are too busy with your duties for King Henry, you needn’t trouble yourself on my behalf. I can go alone.’
His expression shifted. ‘You couldn’t last more than a mile, chérie.’
‘I made it this far,’ she said quietly. ‘And believe me when I say that no man will force me to marry the Ard-Righ. I will go to the west and live out the remainder of my days in peace.’
‘I was leaving the abbey to return to my men,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll take you with me.’
But although she ought to be grateful for his offer, she sensed that he had his own motives.
‘Eat,’ he repeated, holding out the bundle.
She glanced at the food he offered and noticed that he’d roasted a rabbit. So that was where he’d gone—to hunt for meat, as he’d promised before. Her stomach growled, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for the hot food. It was as if she could never get enough to eat, after all the years of suffering.
‘You need not bring me very far,’ she said quietly. ‘Laochre is hardly more than a day’s journey. If you bring me there, the MacEgans will see to my care after that.’
It was a reasonable solution and one that would not trouble him any more than was necessary. She waited for him to agree, but those green eyes narrowed upon her. Instead, he seemed disinterested in her suggestion.
‘Or I could escort you to the west, if that is what you want.’ He spoke with no emotion, his gaze not meeting her eyes.
Now that, she didn’t believe for a moment. Raine de Garenne had admitted that he was occupied with the king’s orders. He would have to return to his soldiers and commander. Nothing had changed, so far as she could tell.
‘Where are your men?’
He shrugged. ‘They are camped east of here. But I could delay my return to them.’
Her senses went on alert, and she didn’t at all believe he would journey with her, out of the goodness of his heart. ‘You want something from me, don’t you?’
He leaned forward and broke off a piece of the meat, his hand brushing against hers. She jolted at the contact, and his expression fixed upon her. ‘Perhaps I do.’
Her mind flashed back to the kiss, though she knew that was not the reason. Her cheeks reddened, and she asked, ‘What reason would bring you from your duties to act as my escort?’
Raine picked up another piece of meat and guided it to her lips. The simple gesture undid her good sense, crumbling away her thoughts. His thumb edged her mouth, reminding her of the shared embrace.
She chewed and swallowed, feeling a mild panic rising. Was he trying to seduce her? Had she inadvertently suggested that she wanted more than a kiss?
‘Not that,’ she insisted, returning his stare. He didn’t smile in teasing, nor did he react. ‘If you’re wanting a reward, silver pieces are all I can give to you.’
‘You have knowledge of the kings of Éireann, have you not?’
The pieces fell into place then. He could gain permission from his commander to escort her west if she gave him political information. He wanted her to share what she knew, so he could use the information against his enemies. But she was not a traitor.
‘I can tell you nothing,’ she argued. ‘All I know is what I have heard from my father. My knowledge would be of no use to you.’ And even if she did know something, she would never betray her countrymen to the Norman army.
Raine leaned in closer on the bed, balancing his weight upon both hands. At his nearness, she wanted to back away, but she forced herself not to be intimidated by him.
‘Your father made certain you were taught the Norman tongue, didn’t he? Because he wanted you to be able to negotiate between the Normans and the Irish. A useful skill for the Queen of Éireann.’
‘And for speaking to you,’ she countered. Her posture stiffened. ‘There is nothing I can tell you. And if that is what you want, then I must go to Laochre alone.’ She had no desire to reveal information that was never meant for a Norman’s ears.
‘You haven’t the strength for that journey,’ he argued.
Although he was right, she saw no alternative. ‘I will do what I must.’
‘Your father’s men will find you,’ he predicted. ‘And they will force you to return to the High King for your marriage.’
Perhaps they would try, but she wasn’t about to surrender. ‘I will never wed a man like the Ard-Righ.’ She ate more of the rabbit, sating her hunger. ‘Or any man, for that matter.’
‘Your father won’t give up until you’re found.’
‘He can try to find me,’ was her reply, though she knew it was true. Her father would not stop searching for her, no matter how long it took. Brian was a stubborn, proud man who delighted in having his own way—but he did love her. He wanted her to be Queen of Éireann, for it reflected well upon him.
Raine sat back, sharing the meat with her. It seemed that the more she ate, the hungrier she became. It had been so long since eating had not caused her stomach to seize with cramping. She savoured the food, and then he unfolded the bundle again, revealing dried apples.
‘Where did you get these?’ she asked, startled to see the fruit.
‘I found them stored within the kitchen.’ He gave them to her, and she was grateful for the fruit, almost greedy at the taste of it. But as she devoured the apples, she was reminded that the monks who had once lived here were now gone. It felt even more like they were trespassing like scavengers.
‘What happened to the priests who lived here?’ she asked him.
‘They died in the fire.’ He offered nothing else, but the dark tone suggested that he felt responsible for the deaths. She stopped eating, studying his expression in the hopes of glimpsing the truth. He claimed that he was a Norman warrior, and she suspected he was a man accustomed to killing.
And yet, there was an empty bleakness in his eyes, like a haunted man. As if he didn’t enjoy killing, the way a warrior might. She didn’t know what to think of that.
Why had he returned to this place? What interest would a Norman soldier have in an abandoned abbey? She couldn’t understand it.
‘Do you want more to eat?’ he asked her.
She shook her head, recognising his desire to avoid speaking of the priests. So be it. Likely it was better if she didn’t know what had happened here.
‘I intend to leave tomorrow at dawn,’ she told him. And as far as she was concerned, she didn’t need his help—especially if he was looking for information she could not give.
‘It would be better to travel at nightfall,’ he countered. ‘It’s too easy for them to track you. They won’t be far away, and we would be unable to avoid them.’
We? So he was still thinking of accompanying her. She regarded him with a frown, for she hadn’t agreed to that. ‘They are travelling towards Tara, and I am moving in the opposite direction.’ She wanted it clear that she didn’t need him to escort her. He could return to his men, if needed.
Raine evaded her searching gaze and answered, ‘The High King’s men have split up to search for you. If we do not wait and let them travel farther, then they will find us.’
Carice didn’t know why he was insisting on helping her, but it was time to be clear with him. ‘I would be grateful if you would take me to Laochre,’ she said, ‘but I cannot give you information about the kings of Éireann. I know nothing, and even if I did, I would not betray them.’ She eyed him sharply and added, ‘I can grant you a reward of silver for your assistance, but nothing more. And if you choose not to escort me there, I’ll go alone.’
Raine studied her, but his expression held a silent challenge. She didn’t know what to think of that, but she would not lower her eyes in surrender. Instead, she faced him down with her own strong will.
There was a faint hint of respect in his expression. ‘You won’t go alone.’ Though he didn’t acknowledge her offer of a reward, she suspected that he might still try to press her for knowledge.
‘Thank you.’ Yet despite his compromise, she sensed that the battle of wills was not over.
Raine gave a slight nod and commanded, ‘Rest now.’
She leaned back and huddled beneath the coverlet while he finished eating. Beneath the woollen blanket, her feet and hands were freezing. She tried to rub her hands to warm them, but they were numb from the time she’d spent in hiding.
There was no chance she would fall asleep in such discomfort. She managed to sit up, and swung her legs to the side of the bed, intending to go stand by the fire. But Raine stopped her. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m freezing.’ She hoped he might find her another blanket while she warmed herself at the hearth. Before she could get out of bed, Raine pressed her back down.
He reached for her hands and rubbed them between his palms. The heat of his skin felt so good, she closed her eyes, wishing for more. Then he bent down to her feet and did the same, massaging the frigid skin. She tried to stop herself from shivering but could not repress the instinct.
‘Do you want me to lie beside you for warmth?’ His offer meant no harm, but she questioned the wisdom of accepting his body against hers.
‘I don’t know.’ She met his gaze, uncertain of what he intended. This man unnerved her, and she worried about sleeping at his side.
Raine didn’t seem to care about her wariness. Instead, he stretched out beside her, pulling her body against his. He pulled his cloak over both of them and did the same with the blanket. His gesture was only meant to help her get warm, but against her nape, she could feel his breath. A sudden rush of awareness slid over her, bringing goosebumps to her skin.
He is not to be trusted, her mind warned. She knew that, even as she nestled closer to him. His presence was so dangerous to her good sense. Never before had she lain this close to a man. And especially not one who wanted her to act as a traitor.
She was fascinated by the contrast between them. He was muscular, a large man with a great deal of strength, whereas she was weak and softer. The hard planes of his body offered a shelter she welcomed. Even wrapped within the coverlet, she could feel the warmth of his arms around her. For a moment, she imagined that this was what it was like to lie with a husband.
A fragile twinge of regret caught her. At one time, she had dreamed of a life where she would be Lady of Carrickmeath with a husband and children. When her father had betrothed her to Rory Ó Connor, she’d been filled with terror and loathing. Brian had believed he was giving her a dream, not a nightmare.
But she felt no loathing beside Raine de Garenne. Instead, his embrace was welcoming, granting a solace that made her grateful. She had needed the warmth of his body, and he had offered it to her. Though she should feel guilty about resting beside him, she didn’t. Raine was a stranger to her, a man who might escort her to Laochre Castle, and then it was doubtful she would see him again.
She tried to close her eyes and find sleep, but the longer she remained in his arms, the more she grew aware of the heavy chain mail he wore. He could not possibly rest, wearing such armour.
‘You could...remove your armour if you want to sleep. It’s difficult in chain mail.’ She couldn’t imagine trying to sleep with the weight of the metal links pressing down.
Raine didn’t answer at first, but then he sat up, pushing back the coverlet before he walked towards the fire.
She never took her gaze from him as he turned to face her. Though he remained silent, she felt the censure in his stare. Out of courtesy, she closed her eyes. ‘I won’t look, I promise.’
‘Carice,’ he said quietly. ‘Would you prefer it if I left you to sleep alone?’ His stare held an intensity that made her uncertain of what he truly wanted. But it did seem that he was trying to determine whether his presence had made her uncomfortable. And that wasn’t it at all.
‘No,’ she answered. It made her feel safe to have him near. ‘I would rather have you stay. Unless...you do not wish to be near me.’
‘I will stay.’ His green eyes held her spellbound as he removed the leather corselet. ‘But trust that I will not harm you. If you want me to leave you alone, I will.’
He set aside the corselet and reached for the chain mail hauberk. Though she knew she shouldn’t watch, she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. His blond hair gleamed against the firelight, and he fixed his attention upon her as he removed the armour. Only a linen undertunic remained, but it was unlike those she had seen before. This one was worn, but made of a finer weave of cloth, like one a nobleman might wear. It hung open at his neck, and she spied angry, reddened flesh.
‘Are you hurt?’ She hadn’t realised it before. ‘Your skin looks as if it’s still healing.’
His expression tightened, and he paused a moment before lifting away the undertunic. His torso was rigid, resembling the honed body of an ancient god. There were scars of battle, but the reddish markings near his throat spread over one shoulder. He turned his back to her, and she saw that the skin was red and mottled, as if he had suffered from burns.
It hurt to look at the healed flesh, knowing how badly he must have suffered. ‘What happened to you?’
