Bliss sank through her, and she smiled as the heat overtook her. Though she knew nothing about Raine de Garenne, he had sensed her needs and cared for her in a way she’d never anticipated.
The food was meagre, only a bit of dried meat, walnuts, and raw parsnips. But she recognised the offering for what it was—the best he had to give. She ate the meat and walnuts, and was deeply grateful when her stomach did not ache at the food.
At Carrickmeath, the constant nausea and stomach difficulties had been neverending. Only after she’d left, had her aches diminished. It had made her wonder if someone had been trying to poison her in her father’s house. She couldn’t understand why, if that were true. There was no reason for anyone to harm her—she had no power at all within the tribe. Although she was betrothed to the High King, her death would accomplish nothing.
But since she’d left, each day had become a little easier. At least now when she ate, she didn’t feel as if knives were carving up her insides. Perhaps it was the taste of freedom that made food more tolerable.
Carice had just reached for the parsnip, when her door opened. In the daylight, she got a better glimpse of Raine, though he was still wearing the hood to hide his features. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered like a fighter. He wore chain mail armour with a leather corselet and a long sword hung sheathed at his waist. Under one arm, he carried his conical helm.
Why did he continue to hide his face? She was curious about this man and the mysteries surrounding him.
‘Thank you for the warm water. And for the food,’ she said, speaking the Norman tongue. ‘I am sorry. I should have saved you some, but I fear there’s only a parsnip—’ She held up the white root vegetable apologetically, but he dismissed her offer.
‘It was meant for you,’ he countered. ‘I’ve already eaten.’ He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her.
It made her uncomfortable, and Carice asked, ‘Won’t you sit, then?’
And remove your hood so that I may see your face, she thought to herself. He was clearly hiding his identity, though she could not guess why.
‘Where are your escorts?’ he asked. ‘Who was guarding you?’
She removed her feet from the basin of water and dried them with the hem of her gown before replacing her shoes. ‘No one. I was running away.’
‘From whom?’
Carice sent him a half-smile. ‘My father was escorting me to my wedding. I am betrothed to the High King of Éireann.’ She remarked, ‘I suppose you’ll want to turn me over to them for a reward. They would pay handsomely for my safe return.’ Most men would be eager to hand her over for the promise of silver or gold. But she rather hoped that he would leave her alone.
Raine paused a moment before his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. ‘It’s more likely that your father would kill me, believing I was the one who took you.’
His candour revealed a man of intelligence. ‘That is indeed possible.’ She straightened the hem of her gown and stood up from the chair. ‘If you would help me to disappear where they’ll never find me, I could compensate you for your assistance.’
He didn’t move as she took a step closer. Then another.
‘Please consider it,’ she said softly, reaching towards his hood.
His hands seized her wrists, drawing them downward. His grip was firm, almost bruising. ‘I have other duties more important than you, chérie.’
Carice drew back, startled by his refusal. ‘I don’t doubt that. But I was only asking for your help.’
She tried to pull away, but he held her wrists fast, as if he had more to say. His silence made it clear that he wasn’t going to help her escape. Her nerves took control, and she continued talking too fast.
‘Trahern MacEgan was supposed to help me leave last night, but he never arrived. I had no choice but to run, while we were still far away from Tara.’
Raine gave no response. Slowly, his thumbs edged the pulse point of her wrists, the heat of his touch burning through her. Why did he continue to hold her hands? Carice stilled, and the caress moved through her like a wave of yearning.
Her heartbeat quickened, and his fingers laced with hers. Never had any man touched her in this way, and her mind envisioned his hands moving over her bare flesh. Upon his forearms, she saw the evidence of scarring, the healed wounds of battle. Perhaps his face held the same. Was that why he would not reveal himself?
She took an unsteady breath, and said, ‘I don’t know if anyone will come for me or not.’
‘I know of the MacEgans,’ Raine said at last. ‘I will look for Trahern and bring him back if he is nearby. But soon, you must leave.’ He let go of her hands, and the heat of his palms remained upon her skin.
Her heart was pounding, and she turned her back. ‘What if you cannot find him? Am I to go on alone?’
‘My duties lie elsewhere. I cannot accompany you.’
There was another reason; she could sense it. ‘What duties?’ she demanded. ‘There are no other soldiers here. You are alone.’
‘For now,’ he acceded. ‘But I am under the command of King Henry,’ he said. There was a hint of darkness in his tone, and he added, ‘His Grace has given me his orders, and those I must obey.’
In a crumbling abbey? Although he had no reason to lie to her, his words made little sense. Her thoughts drifted back to the fresh graves she had seen. Had he been ordered to burn the abbey and kill the monks? Was that why he’d been sent here? She swallowed hard, not wanting to believe it. ‘A king would have no interest in a place like this.’
His posture stiffened, and she took a step backwards. ‘You know not King Henry’s orders, chérie. And you do not know me.’
He was trying to frighten her, she was certain. And perhaps he was a ruthless fighter and the king’s man. But then...he had brought her food and warmed water. These were not the actions of a cruel man. She sensed that he was here for a very different reason.
‘You are right,’ she agreed. ‘But you showed me kindness, for which I am grateful.’ She nodded towards the hearth where the basin of water remained.
Again, he held his silence for a time. Carice didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t truly want to know what had happened in this place—or Raine’s part in it. She took a step towards the hearth, and the motion unsettled her. Despite the food she’d eaten, the effects of her illness began to set in.
Her ears rang as the dizziness swept over her. She rested her palm against the wall, trying to take steady breaths. Please, not now. Not when she had come so far. The tide of weakness washed over her, stealing away her vision.
‘What is it?’ he asked quietly.
She turned to Raine, but his hooded features blurred. The room spun, and her hand slipped against the wall.
She cursed herself, knowing she wasn’t going to make it to the bed. A moment later, her knees collapsed, sending the world into blackness.
* * *
Raine barely caught the young woman before she fainted. One moment Carice was speaking, and the next, she dropped like a stone. He carried her over to the bed, bothered by how light she was. His mouth set into a line as he lowered her to the mattress. Despite his demand for her to leave, she was incapable of making any journey, as weak as she was. And unless he left her behind, he wasn’t going to meet his commander on the morrow.
Her face was the colour of snow, and he didn’t know the nature of her illness. He poured a cup of wine for her and waited for her to regain consciousness. It took a moment, but when her eyes fluttered open, he saw the fear in them.
‘I’m