Epilogue
They rode through the gates, and Carice held their son Guy before her in the saddle.
Raine’s mood was quiet as they approached, for he had not set foot upon his father’s lands in many years.
King Henry had granted the land to Richard de Clare and his wife Aoife.
Lady Aoife had offered Raine the chance to visit his family holdings and had hinted that they might one day govern them on their behalf.
It should have been a blessing. Although Carice knew that her father would want their son to eventually become the chief of the Faoilin clan, she wanted Guy to know his Norman lineage as well.
Raine hadn’t been eager to return to England. Carice knew that there were many ghosts who haunted him here, and the small estate held an air of neglect. But on the far side of the tower, a few fragile roses struggled to climb the stone walls.
Several servants came forward, their eyes wide as a few recognized Raine.
“Do you want a moment to walk around?” Carice asked. “I could wait here with Guy.”
“I would rather have both of you with me,” he answered. He helped her down, and she balanced their son on her hip.
“My lord.” An older man hurried forward, bowing before them. His beard was gray and he was bald, but there was no mistaking the excitement in his demeanor. “We have waited so long for your return.”
“Bertrand, it is good to see you as well,” Raine answered. The older man led them up the stairs and inside the main gathering space. But the moment they entered the Hall, Carice saw a change come over her husband. He grew pensive and quiet. Instinctively, she reached for his hand.
“My mother died here,” he said quietly. “She took her own life in this place, after my father was killed by King Henry’s men.”
Carice rested her forehead against his shoulder, trying to offer her own comfort.
She let him spill out the details of their deaths, and when Guy began to fuss, she handed their son to Raine.
The moment the boy wrapped his arms around his father’s neck, he calmed.
The presence of their son seemed to bring a different peace to Raine.
“They loved each other, didn’t they?” She rubbed her son’s back, still remaining close to Raine. “The way I love you.”
He turned to her. “I never understood, at the time, why she killed herself. Why she didn’t want to live for her children.” He touched Guy’s baby curls and kissed the boy’s head. “And then they buried her on unconsecrated ground.”
“Can you show me where?”
He gave a nod, but before he could lead her outside the gates, Carice stopped near the climbing roses.
She took her knife and cut part of the cane, digging up some of the roots.
With the rose cutting in her hands, she followed him toward the woods.
There, near the edge of the trees, was a bare patch of earth without anything to mark the place, save a small oak sapling.
Carice knelt by the grave and spoke a silent prayer for the woman who had given life to Raine. He remained stoic and quiet, lost in his thoughts. After a time, she planted the rose cutting within the earth. It would take root and grow, a living promise of beauty to the woman she had never met.
In the meantime, Raine took their son toward a small brook that ran through the woods. He scooped up a handful of water in his palms and showed Guy how to do the same. Both of them walked back to the grave, letting the droplets spill over the planted rose.
“My mother would have loved you, Carice,” Raine said, when they stood beside the grave. “She simply wasn’t strong enough to live without my father.”
“I don’t want to live without you, either,” she said. “But however long we live, a part of us will always live on in our son. And in other children we may have.” She brought his hand to her womb. Though it was early yet, she was certain that another child grew within her.
The words had their intended effect, and Raine’s sadness transformed into wonder. “When?”
“In the winter, I think,” she answered. “But you will have to decide whether we stay here or return to éireann. It is your choice.”
He thought a moment and studied the grave. “There has been too much grief within this place. Before we leave England, we ought to rebuild it and make it a place of better memories.
“I agree.” Carice took his hand and started to lead him back toward the tower.
“And since Guy is eager to take a nap, we should let him rest within our chamber. Then we can start making better memories while he is asleep.” She sent him a sensual smile and touched his chest. “If you will show me the way.”
His green eyes grew heated at her suggestion, and he kissed her fingertips. “You are a very wise woman, my wife.”
“I am, aren’t I?” But, in answer to her teasing smile, he bent again to kiss her throat. Her screech of laughter broke through the darker memories, leaving room for new ones to fill their place.
And when he led the way to their chamber, she was only too willing to follow.
Keep reading to enjoy an excerpt of Her Warrior Captive, book one in the MacEgan Brothers series!