Chapter Nine
They arrived at Casheldrum by nightfall.
Carice had never been to the settlement before, especially one so remote.
The small crannog had a wooden walkway across a half-frozen lake that led to a gate and a ringfort at the center of the island.
Several wattle and daub roundhouses were gathered in a semicircle.
Though it was isolated, it would provide a good shelter for the night.
She was in good spirits after winning the race.
It had felt so good to run and feel the wind against her cheeks.
Seeing the expression on Raine’s face after she’d won had made it even more enjoyable.
Although he was a stoic man, she’d detected a softening within him.
This day, she was feeling stronger than usual, and she was confident that her health would continue to improve.
Before they dismounted, Raine removed his helm and hid it among their traveling supplies to ensure that he appeared like an ordinary visitor instead of a soldier. The guards allowed them to enter, and Carice spoke to the chief, since Raine’s grasp of the Irish language wasn’t strong.
“Have you traveled for long?” the chief asked her. He was a man similar in age to her father, and she wondered if he knew Brodie Faoilin. She hoped not, for she didn’t want him to alert her father’s men.
“We visited with the MacEgans last night,” she answered. “We are on our way home again.” She reached into a pouch on her horse and withdrew a handful of silver, offering it to the chief. “I hope we may compensate you for your hospitality.”
The chief waved it away. “No. We do not take silver from our guests. Stay with us awhile, since my son and his wife are away. You may use their home for the night. And if we ever visit your lands, then return the same hospitality to us.”
He seemed friendly enough, and he bade one of his men to help Raine move hot stones into the space to heat the interior of the hut. Carice was glad that they would have their privacy, and she did not dissuade them of the assumption that she and Raine were husband and wife.
They joined the rest of the clan for an evening meal out of doors.
Carice sat upon a log near the fire and accepted a bowl of venison stew.
The hot broth and meat were soothing after a long day of riding, and she enjoyed the flavors of the stew.
Raine sat beside her, and she took comfort in his presence.
His arm rested behind her, almost in a half-embrace.
Though she knew it was only to maintain the pretense of marriage, her skin warmed beneath his hand.
After she finished her meal, she leaned her head against his shoulder, fighting against the weariness that passed through her. As she watched the other women with their husbands, Carice envied them. She wanted so badly to live like a normal woman, to enjoy her days without pain.
Was it possible? She wanted to believe it, though her body was now growing tired from all the traveling. With each day, she grew stronger. And whether her body was simply healing or whether she was finding happiness in her last moments, she clung to hope.
Raine had kept silent throughout most of the meal and had only given a few minimal responses to the chief’s questions. “You look weary,” he said, lowering his mouth to her ear. “Do you want to sleep now?”
“I would, yes.” She thanked the chief once more for letting them stay the night.
Raine led her back to the hut, and inside, the space was now warm.
He ducked inside and closed the door behind him.
A few clay lamps were lit, illuminating the dark interior.
There was a bed of furs in the corner, and it was so inviting, Carice longed to do nothing but collapse on top of the pallet.
But first, she wanted a moment alone with Raine. There were only a few days left with him, and she wanted to know him better. She still didn’t understand why he had agreed to set aside his duties and travel with her.
Carice turned back to him. “I never gave you my command, after I won our contest.”
“You didn’t win. You cheated,” he reminded her. But she sensed he wasn’t angry at all, from the softness in his tone.
“I won,” she insisted. “And now I wish to collect my reward.”
His expression turned wary. “And what was it you wanted?” He moved closer and stood before her.
In the faint light, she studied his harsh features.
His dark blond hair was damp from the snow flurries, his face rough with bristle.
She found herself staring at his mouth, wondering if she dared voice her true desire.
Kiss me, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Not because she was afraid he would refuse...but because she was afraid she wouldn’t want to stop.
“Well?” he prompted. “Name your reward.”
She tried to think of something and at last blurted out, “Never have I seen you smile. I would like to see that.”
Silence descended between them, and he remained stoic. It was a simple request, one he would have no difficulty obeying. But instead, he answered, “I have no reason to smile, Carice.”
His words troubled her, and she longed to understand what had happened to his family. But she would not press for secrets. “You endured a difficult life, I know,” she acceded, “but surely you have smiled before.”
He released her hands and folded his arms across his chest. From the dark expression on his face, it was clear that he had no desire to indulge her—almost as if he believed he had no right to be happy about anything. “Go and rest now. We’ve more traveling to do, and you’ll need your sleep.”
She ignored his excuses and reached up to touch his cheeks. With her thumbs, she lifted the edges of his mouth, hoping to coax a smile. Instead, his face hardened, and he caught her wrists. “Don’t mock me.”
“I—I wasn’t.” That had never been her intention at all. It was merely idle teasing, nothing more than that.
“My father was killed by King Henry’s men and his lands were seized. My mother killed herself after he died. We lost our home, and my sisters were taken by the king’s men.” He softened his grip on her wrists and drew his hands down her sides to rest at her waist.
She was shocked by his words, unable to form a single word. Her heart ached for his suffering. “I didn’t know.”
But he wasn’t finished. “Do you think I don’t know what’s happened to my sisters?
How many men have hurt them during the years I’ve been gone?
But I obey the king’s orders to keep them alive.
One day, I may be able to save them.” His hands remained at her waist, and his green eyes stared into hers.
“I have no reason to smile anymore. Not even for you.”
The grief and helplessness behind his words broke her feelings into pieces. Carice stood on tiptoe, drawing his mouth down to hers. She kissed him in the need to offer sympathy and comfort, for words would do nothing to allay his pain. “I’m sorry,” she murmured against his mouth.
He took her offering, kissing her back. She wasn’t afraid of the kiss, even though it overpowered her senses. Instead, she welcomed the intrusion of his tongue, feeling the aching echo between her legs.
Now she understood his reluctance at helping her.
By disobeying his orders as a soldier, he was risking the lives of his sisters.
Guilt cloaked her emotions, even as she slid her arms around Raine.
He was strong in a way that went beyond physical prowess.
He was the sort of man who would never stop fighting for those he loved.
Undoubtedly, he would go back to find his sisters—she was certain of it.
Her own feelings were weakening, for with each kiss, she was more drawn to him. She didn’t want him to return to the life of a soldier...she wanted him to stay with her, impossible as that might be.
He continued kissing her, his hands sliding within her hair. He caressed the length of it, and she pressed her body against him, feeling the heated length of his arousal.
Need and desire poured over her, and she found it difficult to breathe.
Right now, she wanted more, and he seemed to be fighting against his own urges.
She shuddered when his mouth went to the line of her jaw, and she ran her hands over his hair, down to his broad shoulders.
He was still wearing the chainmail, and she wanted it gone.
“Take off your armor,” she commanded. “Since you will not smile for me.”
He stepped back, and his eyes burned into hers. Though he said nothing at all, he obeyed, lifting the tunic away and then the chain mail hauberk and undertunic. His torso was bared, and she saw the hard ridges of muscles and the scars of battle. The need to touch him was undeniable.
Carice rested her fingers upon his chest, staring back at him. “If you had won our race, what boon would you have demanded of me?”
For a moment, he said nothing, and she wondered if his thoughts were as tangled as hers. “I have no commands for you, chérie. Sleep now, if that is your wish.”
It wasn’t. And so she eyed him once again. “May I touch you?” The boldness that swept over her was born out of her realization that every moment might be her last. She could not say what would happen between now and her last days. But she had this time with him.
“It would not be wise.”
She knew that, but she wanted to. “I find myself not caring about wisdom anymore. And we’ve only a few more days together.” For a breathless moment, she studied him, wondering if he desired her at all.
“Why would you want to? I am a Norman soldier.” The tone of his voice held the edge of a tortured man, as if he believed himself unworthy. Though it was true that his back held the scars of the fire, she did not find him unattractive.
“You are the man who saved my life,” she said, meeting his stare.