He released the soldier, and the man hurried down the stairs. Raine followed him, keeping his weapon drawn. The chapel was empty, and he crossed the space, watching as the man retreated. It soon became clear that the guard was the only one left behind, for a single horse was tethered. He guessed that the man had stayed behind to learn whether or not Carice had hidden herself.
Which she had, but thankfully, the woman had not emerged from her place within the wall.
Raine watched while the man rode away, and he wondered what he should do about the Lady Carice. He had been commanded to kill the High King—Henry had demanded it as the price of his sisters’ freedom. It would cause chaos in the midst of Éireann, making the provincial kings rise up against one another. And it would allow Henry to gain full control of this land, creating order where there was none.
Carice Faoilin could allow him to get even closer to the High King, giving him a reason to be at Tara. Why should he not deliver the missing bride to her betrothed husband? Especially if Raine intended to kill the man anyway? Carice would not have to marry Rory Ó Connor—not if he carried out the man’s death sentence.
And yet, she had already fled her father in an effort to avoid the marriage. If he tried to bring her to Tara, she would only run away from him as well. Or if Trahern MacEgan arrived, she would go willingly with the man she had already asked to save her. Raine turned over the idea in his mind, wondering if he should use her or let her go.
She kissed you, his conscience reminded him. What sort of man would betray a woman who had willingly touched him? Only a bastard whose soul was already damned. He hardened his heart, knowing that it was better if she hated him. He was a killer, not a man worthy of redemption.
Yet, he didn’t want to let her go. Not only was she the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but she had awakened a protective instinct within him. He wanted to guard her innocence, to see those sky blue eyes look upon him with gratefulness. She was unable to defend herself, and he wanted to slaughter any man who dared to threaten her.
There was no logical reason for his possessive urges, save her touch. It had conjured a fire inside him, stoking the need to caress her, to make her burn in the same way he did. The taste of her lips had aroused needs he’d buried for months. And if he took her with him, he could spend more time in her company.
After he was certain the soldier had gone, Raine returned to the sanctuary. Shadows clung to the stone walls, and he stared at the simple altar, remembering the men who had died in the fire. He could almost sense their chastisement for the thoughts he was considering. For a moment, he rested his palm upon the wall, hoping the men’s souls had found peace.
Slowly, he ascended the winding stairs and pushed open the heavy wooden door. He expected to find Carice seated before the fire or resting upon the bed. But she was not there.
He walked toward the opening in the wall and peered inside. She was seated on the floor with her knees drawn up, and her body was shivering violently.
“It’s safe to come out,” he told her, offering his hand. But she didn’t take it.
His suspicions tightened, and he stepped into the opening. When Carice didn’t move, he reached down and lifted her into his arms, helping her out of the hidden space and back into the chamber. Dieu, she was so light. And despite the gown and cloak she wore, her skin was like ice.
“I was cold,” she said. “And I didn’t have the strength to climb out. I am sorry for it.” She was trembling, and he brought her over to the bed, tucking her beneath the coverlet. “I heard you talking to someone. Who was it?”
“One of your father’s men.” He reached for her hand and began rubbing at it, trying to bring warmth back into her skin. “I sent him away.”
She closed her eyes and murmured, “I am sorry for disturbing you here. I will leave as soon as I can.”
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-Righ 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 color 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 honorable man would bring her to safety at Laochre Castle with the MacEgans. Raine could leave her there with no regrets.
But he wasn’t honorable. 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.
