Chapter Three #3
The thought interested him more than it should have.
Her eyes held fear, but she bit her lower lip in a way that tempted him.
This high-born woman was so far above him, and yet she did not seem to disdain his advances.
Instead, she appeared startled, as if she had never been touched before.
Likely she was still an innocent, her virginity meant as an offering to her future husband.
“What would your father say, if he knew you made this offer?”
“He...he would be angry with me.”
She averted her gaze, and he prompted further, “And what of your betrothed husband? Surely King Devlin’s only daughter is promised to wed a king or a king’s son. Will he not be angry?”
Her face turned scarlet, and she tried to pull away. “None of them wanted a scarred woman for a wife. My father offered a generous bridal price, but once they saw my face, they refused.”
There were years of hurt feelings bound up in her words, but he would not let her go. Not yet. “I don’t believe you. There are men who would wed a—”
“A monster like me?” she interrupted. She removed her veil and pulled back her hair, revealing her scars. “I know that. But why would I want to wed a man who only wanted my bride price?”
“It happens all the time,” he told her. “Men marry for a fortune and do not care who they bed.”
“My father never demanded that of me.” She squared her shoulders.
“My mother would have wed me off to the first man who offered, without hesitation. But my father was more careful about arranging a betrothal. He allowed me the right to refuse any man I didn’t want, and I owe him my loyalty for that. ”
No one had ever been loyal to him, save Carice. But he understood Taryn’s reasons.
“So during this journey, I am to be at your bidding at all times?” Killian drew his hand down her spine, cupping the small of her back. “Is that what you want?”
When she didn’t pull away, he wondered whether she was afraid of him.
.. or whether there was any truth to her claim that she’d wanted him as more than her guard.
He leaned in closer, until his mouth was hardly more than a breath away.
If he’d wanted to, he could have kissed her.
But he wanted to see her response... and in her expression, he saw only uncertainty.
She drew his hand away. “You will let Brodie believe that you are obedient to me, yes.”
Her answer softened his frustration, for it now seemed that she was not trying to assert dominion over him.
“And what else do you expect from me in front of the others?”
“You don’t have to touch me and pretend that you desire me,” she said. “That isn’t necessary. Obedience is enough.”
There was a brittle tone to her voice, and he realized that she truly believed no man would want her. “Brodie will be watching us.”
Taryn shrugged. “I suppose he will. It matters not.” The resignation on her face held years of hurt, and Killian wondered if she’d been locked away from the world, believing that no man would want her.
He drew his knuckles over her cheek, and she flinched from his touch. “No one will believe you, if you react in this way.”
“I’ve already said, you need not put on a ruse. I’ve seen my likeness. Men who have seen my face turn away from me. They loathe the sight of me, and I cannot blame them for it.”
“You were not born this way,” he guessed.
She shook her head. “No. But it happened when I was a child. Few people remember what it was like before I was scarred. Including me.”
“How were you hurt?” he asked quietly. He framed her face again, tracing the scars that ran along her jaw. The edges were jagged, and he suspected again that an animal had attacked her. It brought out a protective instinct he hadn’t anticipated.
She stilled at his touch but didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let me go.”
Beneath his fingers, he could feel the rapid pulse in her throat. She was afraid of him, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Immediately, he let his hands fall away. He stood a hand’s distance away from her, and in the intimate space, he expected her to flee.
Instead, she said, “I let Brodie believe that I desired you, for the sake of your sister. You promised to escort me to Tara, and I made it possible for you to do so. You’ll obey my orders, and in return, I will grant you a place at my side.”
“And at night?”
Her face was pale, her breathing hushed as her shoulders rose and fell. She might be a noblewoman, but she was not immune to him. There was fear there, but also an attraction to the forbidden.
“At night I want nothing from you,” she whispered. “You will sleep nearby to guard me, but that is all.”
Killian rested his palms against the wall, trapping her in place.
For a long moment, he studied her, wondering if she understood the implications of this.
She lowered her face and covered her scars with her hands, trying to shield them from his view.
Slowly, he reached out to her palms and pulled them back. “You have nothing to hide from me.”
Taryn stared back, as if she didn’t believe him at all. He continued, saying, “On this journey, we will help each other. If you help Carice to escape, I will take you to Tara—regardless of what happens afterward.”
Taryn’s heart was racing. Her cheeks flushed from the touch of Killian’s hands upon her face.
She fled the armory, not looking back. With every step, she cursed herself for coming here to speak with Killian.
His touch had shaken her senses, as if he could take the scars from her skin and heal them.
Not once had he looked upon her as if she were a monster.
Instead, he’d treated her as if she were far above his reach.
God help her, she’d found it all too easy to fall under his spell. His dark gray eyes had held resentment at the idea of being her guard. And when he’d pressed her against the wall, her wayward feelings had crumpled.
It was the first time in her life that a handsome man had looked upon her in that way.
She’d been unprepared for her racing heart and the way her body had responded.
Harsh and ruthless, this man would never yield to anyone.
She shouldn’t like that at all. And yet, she’d found it thrilling to find a man who looked upon her as if he were about to steal a kiss.
She would have allowed it. She wanted to know what other women felt when a man captured her lips. She wanted to feel the breathless moment of surrender, to feel her first kiss.
Taryn slowed her steps, pulling her veil closer to hide her face as she drew nearer to the High King’s men.
A man like Killian MacDubh would never kiss her of his own free will.
It was only her imagination conjuring up such a vision.
This man would never blindly follow her bidding—he would forge his own path.
As she made her way back to the donjon, she felt the eyes of strangers watching her.
Taryn kept her face hidden as she climbed the staircase leading to Carice’s chamber.
When she reached the door, she could almost sense the weariness within.
The young woman had been sick throughout the night, and Taryn had found it difficult to sleep through her suffering.
Perhaps this journey would help her. If Carice could leave her room with its air of sickness, the fresh air might ease her.
Taryn reached the chamber at last and found the young woman still abed. Her eyes were closed, and she looked as if she were dying. A maid was packing Carice’s belongings, and Taryn ordered her out. “I will see to your lady. Go and help the others prepare the litter.”
The girl obeyed. Taryn went to the windows and threw back the shutters, letting in the light and fresh air. Though the morning was cool, the tainted odor of sickness lingered. Better to cast it out and begin anew.
“Good morn to you,” Taryn greeted Carice, when she stirred at the sunlight. “Are you ready for our journey?”
The woman struggled to sit up. “I don’t know if I can move. Last night was...very hard for me.”
Taryn didn’t doubt that at all. “Do you want to break your fast?”
A pained look came over Carice’s face at the mention of food. “Later, perhaps.”
“I sent your maid to prepare a litter for us. You won’t have to ride.” Secretly, Taryn was thankful that it gave both of them a reason to stay away from the horses.
“I suppose I’ll have to rise and get dressed.” Carice drew a deep breath and steeled herself.
In the corner Taryn spied some food that the maid had brought. There was plain dark bread and nothing else. There wasn’t nearly enough to sustain Carice for the journey. She told the young woman, “Wait here and I’ll return with more food.”
She left Carice’s bedchamber and went down the stairs.
A servant was about to take a tray of dried apples and meat to the chieftain, but she intercepted the man.
“I’m going to bring these to the Lady Carice,” she said, as she took a handful of the apples and a capon wing.
The meat and fruit might provide more nourishment.
Once she returned to the chamber, she found Carice standing in her shift, clutching the bedpost for balance.
“Let me help you dress,” Taryn said, setting down the food she’d brought. Carice was painfully thin, her bones outlined against her skin. “Eat this,” she ordered, handing her a piece of dried apple. “I had some, and it was good.”
“I’m only supposed to eat bread,” Carice said. But even so, she accepted the apple slice.
Taryn helped her pull a crimson gown over her head, pulling the laces tight. “And who told you that?”
“Our healer. He said that bread was bland enough that it would not make my stomach hurt so much.”
Though she knew it was none of her affair, Taryn worried about Carice. The young woman wasn’t eating nearly enough to be well. She handed her the capon wing and asked, “How long have you been ill?”
“Only during the past two years,” she admitted. “It’s been getting worse.”