“I must speak with him.” She began walking toward the tower, and the guard shadowed her. When she reached the door, she found it locked. To the man, she commanded, “Open this now.”
He shook his head. “You would not be safe with him.”
“He protected me for several days,” she protested. “Don’t be foolish. Open the door, and you can stand here to guard me.”
The man shook his head. “No, my lady. I am sorry.”
She eyed him and then sat down in front of the door, gathering her cloak around her for warmth. “I suppose I’ll wait, then.”
He strode away from her, obviously believing she would never stay outside in the cold. Snow flurries drifted downward from the sky, and she rested her cheek against the wood. “Are you there, Raine?”
“Oui. I am here.” His voice sounded weary, and she was terrified of what had happened to him.
“What did they do to you?” She got on her knees, speaking through the locked door. “And why are you a prisoner?”
“They chained me in the dark because I could not tell them of my commander’s orders.”
She couldn’t understand why the MacEgans would do such a thing—unless they suspected that Raine and his men were a threat. She couldn't deny the possibility.
“Why did you come to Laochre?” she asked. “Did something happen?” There was a shifting sound, and she heard the metallic jangle of his chains as if he was moving closer to the door.
“Why do you think I came,chérie?” His voice was low, but there was a trace of warmth within it. Carice pressed her hand to the door, and it was almost as if she could sense his hand on the opposite side. This man had become a friend to her, and seeing him imprisoned was wrong.
She wanted to imagine that he’d come to escort her to the west, but it was unlikely. He did have orders to obey. Queen Isabel’s warnings held truth in them—a Norman soldier could not do as he wanted. His life was sworn to the king’s service. “I think you came back to see that I arrived here safely.”
He didn’t answer, but she suspected that he could not admit such a thing, even if it was true. Raine de Garenne was a Norman soldier, not a man who held any feelings toward her. Even so, she wanted it to be true, for he had fought to keep her protected.
“I wish you were here to help me travel away from this place.” Her voice held her wistful imaginings, and she lowered her palm from the door. “My offer stands, if you’re willing.”
“Whether I am willing is not the question,” he said. And in the answer, she realized that his duties imprisoned him as surely as these chains did.
Carice shivered against a gust of wind and saw that the soldier had turned back to watch her. When she didn’t move, he crossed the inner bailey to stand before her.
“You should go back to your chamber, my lady. It is far too cold for you to remain here.”
“I will be glad to obey if you will grant me a few moments inside with Raine.” She needed to know what could be done to get him out of this place. And while she suspected that the Norman army intended to invade Tara, none of that mattered to her, for she would be nowhere near the High King. And neither would Raine, if she could convince him to come with her.
He didn’t behave like a soldier, she realized. More like a commander or even a Norman lord. There was a sense about him as if he would never yield or break.
The soldier eyed her. “If I grant you a little time, you must vow to return to your chamber.”
She offered him a blinding smile. “I so vow it. And I thank you for whatever time I may have.”
“If you break that promise, I will carry you back against your will.” With that, the guard unlocked the door.
Carice pushed it open and saw that it was impossibly dark within the space. “Raine, I am here.” She didn’t want to startle him, particularly if he couldn’t see her. To the guard, she asked, “May I have a torch?”
He left to get one, and Carice took off her cloak, bringing it to Raine. In the dark, she knelt down and spread it over him. His skin was icy, his muscles rigid from the cold.
“I’m so sorry that this happened,” she began. “Why did they lock you in here? I still don’t understand.”
Before Raine could answer, the guard returned with the torch. Carice took it from him, setting it within a sconce on the wall. He eyed her and said, “You may remain only for a short while, my lady.”
The moment her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her mood turned grim. Raine’s wrists were bound in iron chains, and he had nothing to protect him from the cold night air. She moved to sit beside him and took his hand in hers. His fingers were freezing and she tried to warm them. “What can I do to get you out of here?”
“I will get myself out,” he said. The dark timbre of his voice made her wonder exactly how he planned to do it. And she didn’t want more death.
“I will talk with King Patrick and see what can be done.” She rubbed his hands, trying to bring warmth into them. “I am sorry you were treated like this. Especially after all that you did for me.”
