“Don’t show your fear,” he advised. “They sense it.”
She knew that, but she’d never been able to suppress the way she felt. Not only because of her brother Christopher’s death, but also from her own scars. She didn’t remember how she had been attacked, but she had nightmares about wild teeth tearing into her flesh. Every time she was near animals, the hairs on her arms stood on end, and fear enveloped her. The reaction was instinctive, though she knew most animals meant her no harm.
“What should we do about your sister?” she asked, needing to change the subject.
Killian paused a moment. “I’ve been thinking, and there may be a way to solve both of our problems.”
He was watching her, and Taryn pulled her hair forward again, not wanting this man’s discerning gaze upon her face. “What do you want me to do?”
He crossed his arms. “Accompany Carice to Tara, and do not leave her side. Not at all.”
Curious, she leaned against the wall, wondering what sort of deception he intended.
“We won’t be explaining ourselves to anyone,” he continued. “When anyone addresses Carice, you will be beside her. If all goes well, the High King’s men won’t know which one of you is the bride. Let them believe what they want.”
The idea was a bold one, but it would indeed create an illusion. “And what will we do about her illness?”
“Hide it as best we can.” He spoke of her standing at his sister’s side, granting her physical support so she could walk to the litter. “Brodie will want that as well.”
“And what will we do about him?” The chieftain would undoubtedly give away Carice’s identity if he accompanied them.
“If he escorts Carice, I will ensure that he does not stop her from leaving,” Killian answered.
The ice in his voice frightened her, for she knew not what he intended to do. Whatever it was, Killian was not a man she would ever want as her enemy.
And yet, she could not fault him for wanting to protect the woman he called sister. Would he hold the same loyalty toward his own woman, if he were married? Perhaps. And yet, she believed he was a man who walked his path alone. He wore an air of isolation, as if he wanted to remain apart from others.
“What will happen to Carice?” she asked him. “How will she escape?”
“Within a day or two, one of the MacEgan men will kidnap her,” he answered. “Carice will disappear, and you will take her place for a few hours that night, before anyone notices she’s gone.”
“And if I do this, will you help me free my father?” she ventured.
He studied her for a moment but shook his head. “I will take you the rest of the way to Tara, but that is all.”
It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but it was a start. “What of the other men? Is there someone else who might help me?”
His silence was not reassuring. There was so little time left, and she had to find someone quickly. It would take days yet to reach Tara, and if she did not find someone here, she would have to seek help from mercenaries. Such warriors would sooner steal her gold than do her bidding.
“Brodie’s men will not stand against Rory,” he said at last. “And even if you did find someone to free King Devlin, your father could never return to his kingdom. Not if the High King wants him dead.”
Her spirit dissolved in fear, for that was true. She might save Devlin’s life—but she could not save his reign. The only way to truly bring him back was to mend the breach between the two kings. Someone had to intercede on her father’s behalf... someone with the ear of the High King.
Like his son.
Killian MacDubh might be a bastard, but surely the Ard-Righ would listen to him.
Yet Killian wanted no part of his father. He was trying to keep Lady Carice from wedding the man. It was unlikely that he would even consider her request.
“I could pay you in silver or pearls,” she said. “If you found men willing to help me.” She eyed him, adding, “Certainly, the task would be too difficult for only one man.”
His expression tightened at her challenge, as if he wanted to rise to the bait.
Just how proud are you, Killian?she wondered. Was he willing to help her, in return for the riches he lacked?
“Too difficult, is it?” he countered. In one swift motion, he extinguished the torch. Darkness enveloped the room, and Taryn huddled against the door. Only the faintest embers glowed against the wood, and she could hear nothing at all.
Silence permeated the space, and a moment later, his hands were upon her shoulders, his breath against her ear. “When I want to be unseen, this I can do,a chara.Like a shadow.”
