Chapter Fifteen #2
Rory ó Connor turned to face him. The man’s steel eyes were hard, as if he couldn’t bring himself to answer.
Brodie moved to stand beside the High King. “It is not only to apologize for my daughter’s actions...but also for the way I treated your son Killian.”
“I will expect you to give the cattle and horses to him, then,” Rory answered. “If your apology is real.”
The High King wasn’t going to make this any easier. But though Brodie had made many mistakes over the years, he believed it was possible to put them to rights. “If that is your wish.”
“You want me to let your daughter go, don’t you?” Rory said at last.
Brodie moved to stand by a railing and rested his hands upon it.
“There was a time when I would have done anything to arrange a marriage between the two of you. What father would not want his daughter to be High Queen of éireann?” He looked away toward the landscape. “But that is not what she wants.”
“She wants the Norman soldier, doesn’t she?” The High King’s voice was grim, and Brodie knew he had to tread carefully.
“I want to make amends, Your Grace. For everything.”
For a time, the Ard-Righ remained silent. It was all Brodie could do not to fill the space with pleading or offers for more. But this negotiation was for his daughter’s happiness.
“She would not have made a suitable bride for me,” Rory conceded at last. “I will put an end to the betrothal, and you will take her home. But—” He turned and leveled a stare at Brodie. “—you will tell her that it was Killian’s intervention. Let her believe that he caused me to change my mind.”
The smug air upon the High King’s face was difficult to face, so Brodie turned his attention to the wooden platform. “So be it.”
Raine entered Carice’s chamber silently and saw her sitting in a chair facing the wall. Her back was to the door, and she didn’t seem to care that anyone had come inside.
The emerald gown she wore had slid against one shoulder, and Raine longed to touch his mouth to the bared spot. He could hardly move for fear that all of this would disappear, like awakening from a dream.
“Am I being summoned?” she asked, without turning around. “Has the High King ordered me to wed him?”
“He let you go.” The moment Raine spoke, Carice turned around. Her expression held such joy and bewilderment, he couldn’t stop himself from kneeling at her feet. “You do not have to wed him.”
She embraced him hard, her tears mingling with a laugh of relief. “But why are you here, Raine? I thought he ordered you to leave.”
“I am taking you with me first.” He didn’t ask permission but lifted her into his arms. “That is, if you want to go.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Carice wound her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his. It was a kiss of wonder that held all the hopes of a new beginning. He kissed her like a starving man, so grateful for this day when he could claim her as his own.
“I love you,” she blurted out against his mouth. The words warmed his heart, and he could not resist stealing another kiss. This fragile woman had become his very reason for life, and he could not imagine being without her.
“I love you, Carice.” He pressed back a lock of her hair, still disbelieving what had happened. Though he knew she was still fighting back illness, he wanted this woman for whatever time remained between them.
She drew back and asked, “What of my father?” Worry creased her face and she added, “He will forbid us to leave.”
Raine sent her a reassuring look. “Brodie is waiting for us. It was arranged earlier this morning, and he sent me to fetch you.”
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head with confusion. “Did you speak with the High King? Was this your doing?”
He wasn’t certain how to answer that, for he’d had no intention of negotiating—he’d planned to steal Carice away from Tara.
“I was already planning to return and capture you,” Raine admitted.
“I spoke with Lady Aoife and asked for her help in saving you.” He sent her a grave look.
“I would have cut down any man who stood in my way. She knew I was going back, and that I would never let you go. But it was your father who stopped me, only an hour ago.”
Never had he imagined he would find an ally in Brodie Faoilin. But the man had surprised him, blocking Raine’s path before he could shed any blood.
“If you try to take her by force, they will kill both of you. Is that what you want? Especially after all I risked, to save you?”
He hadn’t understood at the time what Brodie was talking about. But given the choice between fighting for Carice or accepting a father’s sacrifice, he’d known which was the better course. “He told me that your brother Killian used his influence to end the betrothal.”
“But Killian isn’t here,” she mused. With a discerning look, she said, “This was Brodie’s doing.” She touched a hand to her throat, her face softening. “He spoke with Rory and ended the betrothal. I am certain of it.”
“I believe so. But he won’t admit it.” He kept her in his arms and touched her mouth with his. “I would have torn down these walls before I’d have allowed you to wed Rory ó Connor. Nothing and no one would have stopped me.”
“I know that,” she murmured. “But my father made it so you didn’t have to. I am glad.”
Although Raine didn’t like being in Brodie’s debt, he agreed with her. But more than that, it bridged the way to forgiveness between father and daughter. He would not stand in the way of that.
He brought Carice from the chamber, and as they departed, he gave orders to her maids to pack Carice’s belongings. Only when they reached the door to the outside did he let her down to walk. “Have you the strength to ride?”
Her face broke into a smile. “Yes.”
He knew that it would not be wise to display affection toward her when they were within the boundaries of Tara. Once he opened the door, he let her lead the way, following several paces behind.
Her father was waiting for them with horses near the gates. And though Brodie appeared uncertain about Raine’s presence, he softened at the sight of his daughter’s joyous smile.
They rode out of the gates of Tara, through the melting snow and down the hillside.
Raine only breathed easier when they were nearly a mile away from the High King’s men.
He spurred his horse and moved to ride beside Carice.
The moment she saw him, she reached for his hand.
“I suppose Lady Aoife will be grateful that you didn’t have to storm through Tara’s defenses to rescue me.
Especially after she tried to save your life. ”
“She did invite me to visit her fortress at Leinster,” he told Carice, “and she knew I could not let you go.” He gripped her palm and asked the question that had been troubling him. “If the Ard-Righ had demanded it, would you truly have wed him?”
She met his gaze and said, “I would have wed the devil himself if it meant setting you free.” With a sheepish smile, she added, “But I am glad I don’t have to.”
“And what of us?” He kept her hand in his, studying those sea blue eyes. “Will you wed me now?”
Carice sent him a sidelong glance. “I might. If you can convince me to say yes.”
A shot of heat rippled through him at the thought. “Your father is watching.” But he reached over and pulled her onto his horse.
“Raine, what are you doing?” Her eyes widened as he held her in front of him. He tethered her horse loosely to his, and the two animals walked alongside one another.
“Convincing you.” He kept one arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her neck. “Do you remember what it was like the night we shared together?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her backside pressed against him and the movement made him wish he could lift her skirts right now.
“All our nights could be like that one,” he murmured, holding her close.
Her breathless moan made him laugh softly against her hair. But she tilted her face back to look at him. “Raine, I love you.”
“Then you’ll wed me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But you had better put me back on my own horse, or my father will have you flayed alive.”
He didn’t care that her father was watching but took her mouth in a long kiss.
She touched his face with her hand, leaning back as he claimed her.
The heat of her lips kindled a fire that could only be quenched by her.
He gave in to the desire, invading her mouth with his tongue, promising her everything.
“I love you, chérie. And I promise that I’ll take care of you always. For as long as that might be.”
She stared up at him, and in her eyes, he caught a glimpse of heaven. “It will be forever.”
It was silent within the camp, and Carice stirred from her bed furs. Her maids awakened instantly, but she raised her finger to her lips, insisting that they stay behind and not follow her. She slipped outside the tent, pulling the heavy woolen cloak tightly around her.
Although she was weak and tired, she wanted to spend her first night of freedom with Raine. Quietly, she tiptoed past the rows of tents, keeping to the shadows, until she reached his.
When she peered inside the flap, an oil lamp was lit, illuminating the space. Raine was not asleep, but he had set aside his armor and wore only his braies and chausses. The moment he saw her, his eyes grew heated.
“Did you need something, Carice?” he murmured, rising to his feet.
“Yes.” She untied her cloak and let it fall to the ground. Tracing her palm over his cheek, she said, “I needed to see you.”
The dim light from the lamp illuminated his blond hair, and he looked as if he wanted to run his mouth over her skin. The thought was shockingly sensual.
“I needed to know that this is real,” she continued. “That I won’t suddenly awaken and find myself trapped in a life I don’t want.”
Raine stared at her for a moment, a faint smile upon his face. “This is real, Carice. As am I.”