Page 25

“That is enough!” Ral shoved back his chair, the grating sound muffled by strains of zither and lute. He gripped Caryn’s arm and forced her up too, then hauled her to the edge of the dais.

“I would know what plagues you, lady. I would discover how it is you accept my kisses with such fire then refuse me the simplest of courtesies.” He jerked her toward the stairs, knights and servants making way as Caryn hurried to keep up without falling.

Sweet God, she shouldn’t have pushed him so far. Mother Mary, what would he do? Trying to calm the wildly beating rhythm of her heart, Caryn clung to him as he dragged her along the passage, opened the door to their chamber, and shoved her into the room.

He followed her in and slammed the door. “You will tell me what this is about.”

Caryn straightened, more than a little uneasy. “I do not know what you mean.”

“You have been rude and ill-mannered. You have goaded and insulted me at every turn since the moment I returned to the keep. Do you dare to deny it?”

“I am sorry if I have displeased you.”

“You ask for trouble, Caryn. I would know why.”

Because it is safer to face your anger than your passion. Better to be beaten than seduced. “I told you, I do not know what you mean.”

“Do you not? I think you do. I think we both do.”

A shiver touched her spine, but she did not speak.

“This is about what happened in the forest, is it not?”

“Nay, of course not.”

“’Tis because I kissed you and you liked it. Because I touched you and you did not push me away.”

“Nay, ’tis not so.”

Ral stepped closer. “’Tis truth and you know it. You desired me, just as I did you. Shall I prove it, Cara? Shall I make you desire me again?”

“Nay!” But already he was moving forward, his muscled forearm sliding around her waist as he hauled her against him. He gripped her chin with his hand, forced her head back, and his mouth came down hard over hers.

For a moment Caryn struggled, determined to fight him, to ignore the heat that shimmered through her body. Then his hard kiss gentled, his thumb grazed the side of her jaw, coaxing her lips apart, and his tongue slid warmly into her mouth.

Caryn groaned at the heat of it, at the feel of his powerful body pressing the length of hers, at the muscles that bunched across his shoulders.

She found herself kissing him back, gripping the front of his tunic and swaying against him, her blood pumping, her tongue meeting his in a silent plea for more.

It was Ral who ended the kiss, steadying her, kissing her cheek as he gently eased her away. “That you desire me is not a sin, Cara. I am your husband. ’Tis only as it should be.”

She looked at him, so tall and strong, felt the pull of his presence and a powerful yearning to press herself against him. Her bottom lip trembled and she had to glance away.

“Is it so hard for you to see? ’Tis not right that I should desire you—not after what you have done.

” There was pain in her eyes as she looked back at him.

“I cannot forget that night three years past.” Tears spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks.

“I cannot forget—and I cannot forgive.” She tried to turn away, but he caught her arm.

“I am sorry about your sister. That night has haunted me just as it has you. Your sister was a rare and beautiful creature. I knew it from the moment I saw her. Had I to do it over, I would take far better care.”

“Better care?” she repeated, the horror of that night stabbing at her insides, dredging up the memories as if they had just occurred. “You force rapine upon my sister and you say you would take better care?”

“Rapine?” The hand on her arm grew taut and his eyes swung to her face. “Is that what you believe? That I was among the men who took your sister?”

“But you were! I was there—I saw you. If I live for a thousand years, I will always remember.”

Concern etched his features, his thick black brows drawing together, narrow lines marring his forehead. “’Tis not a question of what you remember, cherie, but of what you may have forgotten.”

“Forgotten? I-I do not understand.”

“Think you back to that night three years past. Do you remember naught besides your sister’s rape and the beating you suffered? Have you no memory of the men who came to your aid, of someone holding you and keeping you safe?”

Caryn wet her lips. There was such a memory. Always it lingered at the edge of her mind, but it had never truly surfaced. Until this moment, she believed she had imagined the words of comfort, the strong arms enfolding her battered, pain-racked body.

He touched her cheek with his hand. “Did no one tell you of the soldiers who brought you to the convent?”

“Normans brought me. I thought it was the men who attacked us. The subject was forbidden. ’Twas a topic we never discussed.” Nor had she wanted to. In truth, she had worked to forget it.

“Did you not wonder that you were left virgin?”

Caryn shook her head. “Gweneth was so beautiful. I believed the soldiers did not want me.”

“’Twas because we came upon them before they could act. My men were the ones who carried you to the safety of the convent.”

“But… but how can that be? You said that you were guilty. You’ve said so more than once.”

“Guilty of carelessness. Guilty of letting the duty I felt toward my men outweigh my desire to see you and your sister safe.”

Caryn swallowed against the hard lump swelling in her throat. Looking away from his troubled expression, she walked toward the narrow slit of window. When she reached it she turned to face him.

“You are telling me the truth?”

“I am no liar, Cara.”

She faltered a movement, uncertain for a time, then convinced he had spoken the truth.

“If that is your only guilt, my lord, then you should suffer no more.” She turned to gaze out the window.

“I am the one who was careless. I was responsible for my sister’s safety, yet I did not see her safe.

You told us to return to the hall, but I did not obey.

Think you I do not suffer every day of my life for what I have done? ”

Fresh tears welled and slipped down her cheeks. Caryn rested her head against the cold rough stone, her body shaking as the tears continued to fall. She felt Ral’s hands on her shoulders, kneading them gently.

“We must both accept the blame for what has happened. ’Tis a cross we must bear, though in truth, ’twould be best should we leave it in the past.” His hands continued their movements, calming her and lending her some of his strength.

“’Tis true that we both failed your sister, but I would not have this other between us. Of that I am not guilty.”

Something opened inside her, blossomed and grew. The guilt she carried lifted and began to fade away, leaving her strangely unburdened. Ral turned her to face him.

“Do you believe me?”

She smiled at him through her tears. “Aye, I believe you. ’Tis the greatest gift you could have given me.” Caryn reached for his hand, lifted it and pressed her mouth against the ragged, still-healing wound left by the wolves. “I thank you, my lord.”

Ral said nothing, but at the soft brush of her lips, something tightened around his heart.

If only he had known, he could have long since eased her worries.

He could have set things right and bridged the gap that existed between them.

He looked at her now, saw the wetness still shimmering in her soft brown eyes, saw her relief and something more.

Her hand looked small and pale against his dark skin, her breasts rose and fell gently, and her neck arched gracefully above the bodice of her gown.

She looked feminine and lovely, and in the time that he had known her, he had never wanted her more.

He tipped her chin with his fingers and kissed her softly on the lips. “Rest easy, Cara, and as you do, I ask that you discover what it is you truly want.” With a last lingering glance, he turned and made his way out the door.

Ral sighed as he strode down the stairs, thinking of all that had happened and wondering what his next course should be. Once he reached the great hall, he motioned for a servant to bring him a goblet of wine, carried it to his seat before the fire pit, sat down, and stared into the flames.

“Trouble with your wife, my lord?” Lynette approached from behind him, her slender hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “’Tis a shame one so small can so displease you.”

Ral said nothing.

Lynette ran her fingers through his hair. “Mayhap there is something I could do to ease your mind.” She bent over him, allowing a breast to brush his arm, her golden blond hair tickling his cheeek. “Mayhap some chess or a game of chance?”

He hated gaming with Lynette. She had little skill and even were that not so, she would always let him win. “Nay. The hour grows late and I find that I am weary.”

Her pink lips parted in a smile. “I too am tired. Mayhap ’tis best we are for bed. What say you, my lord? Do we leave together, or shall I go and await you? ”

“You go on. I’ve a matter to discuss with Richard. It may take some time. ’Tis needless for you to wait up.”

“But surely—”

“Take your leave, Lynette.”

“As you wish, my lord.” She tossed her pretty blond head and thrust out her bottom lip as she reluctantly walked away.

In the past, he had found the gesture feminine and appealing. Twice in the middle of the day, he had followed her back to her chamber, stripped off her clothes, and taken her while he still wore his own. Tonight it would not be so.

“She chafes at the attention you pay your wife.” Odo sat down on the bench to his left. “’Tis good for her. ’Twill ensure she keeps her place.”

“’Tis not Lynette who disturbs me.”

“Ah… so ’tis true, the story Girart tells of what happened in the woods.” Already the tale of the slaying of the wolf pack had been repeated again and again. But it wasn’t of wolves Odo spoke and both of them knew it. “He says the little maid may not be as frosty as many believe.”