Irish: The Irish Princess Part 20

She gathered the sheet to her bosom. "I think not." Though she was not ashamed, she felt defenseless to him now, stripped of her guard, and she needed distance to rebuild it. Letting him touch her again, though her body cried out for more, would not help. She still did not trust him. Looking away, she glanced at the window, then inhaled a sharp breath. "Oh, for the love of Saint Michael!" The sun was already high in the sky!

Leaving the bed, she pulled the sheet with her, wrapping herself, but Gaelan caught it, giving it a quick jerk that landed her in the bed, on her back. He loomed over her, half upside down and smiling.

"Where think you to go this morn?"

She c.o.c.ked her head a bit. "To my duties, my lord. And I am well past showin' meself belowstairs. They will think-"

"You were taking your pleasure of me," he interrupted, bending until his lips met hers, his kiss slow and wet and stirring the embers hidden under her skin. Her hand rose, almost hesitant, then finally cupped his jaw and tasted him back, racing her tongue over the line of his mouth. His breath shuddered raggedly as he drew back.

"You are in a surprising mood for a man who did not get any hisself." Her eyes flew wide at her own impertinence.

His brows shot up. "Wishing I'd break my promise? For I can accommodate her ladyship-" He threw back the covers.

She looked. "Jager me," she whispered, then rolled and scooted off the bed.

Gaelan laughed. No matter how much she abandoned herself to him last night, she still feared her own desire and him, apparently. It was comforting that she was not so resilient, that she had weaknesses, beyond her people. He'd begun to think she was invincible.

She flung open a trunk and rummaged, selecting a gown and a shift. Her back to him, she slipped on the shift.

"I saw you bare last night Siobhan; why hide now?"

"'Twas a moment of-ah, I don't feel-" She sighed, dropping her head forward. "Humor me, my lord."

"Shyness now, after you rode my mouth like a wave?" She inhaled and spun about, eyes wide. He grinned, loving her blush and watching it spread down to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Intriguing."

Siobhan snapped her mouth shut. "Oh, you big ox, cease lying abed and dress." His laughter filled the chamber as she went to his trunks and retrieved fresh garments, flinging them at him. "Don't you have men to train or-" She frowned, his tunic in her fist. "What happened that you were covered in soot?" She rushed to the bedside. "And your hand." She grasped it. The bath cleaned it well and it was crusted with healing. "You need a salve and wrap on that. And to remove your st.i.tches as well." She dropped her gown on the bed and went to her cabinet, pausing to search for her girdle and the key. She gathered clean strips of cloth and a small pot stoppered with a fat cork. She sat on the bed beside him, plucking out the st.i.tches in his side, and though the wound on his hand was minor, Gaelan let her tend him.

"Tell me," she said in a firm voice as she gingerly spread the salve.

"A village to the north, 'twas attacked."

Her head jerked up. "The people? Grainne and Elric, little Muirgheal and Teague?"

G.o.d above, she knew them by name and the hope in her beautiful eyes nearly destroyed him. "Dead, la.s.s, all of them."

She looked at her work, wrapping the bandage, tying it off neatly and collecting her things. Crossing to the cabinet, she replaced the items, locked the cupboard, then moved to her gown, pulling it on over her head and fitting it about her hips.

Frowning, Gaelan stood and dressed quickly and was looking for his pouch when he heard her choke. He glanced and his expression fell into utter sadness. Before the mirror, she combed her hair, tugging angrily at the snarls. Her lips quivered with her effort to hold back tears.

"Ahh, sweetling." He came to her, wrestling the comb from her tight fist. She shoved at his chest, then shoved again and again, and Gaelan let her, holding her close as she pounded out her grief. Then she cried, sinking to her knees and folding over, rocking.

"Oh Lord above," she sobbed, and he knelt. "'Twere three new families there. Grainne and Moreen, they'd just had their first child. Babes, my lord, babes who won't see their first birthday."

Gaelan wrapped his arms around her, holding her warmly, pressing his lips to the top of her head. Nearly an hour pa.s.sed before she was silent, telling him of the children, the friends she'd lost, and still he held her. Then he saw his pouch under the table and reached for it, tucking it discreetly at his waist.

"'Tis a mystery, Siobhan. The livestock was butchered." He blotted her face with his sleeve and helped her to her feet. "There is no sense in it."

"As in the south. So far apart from the other, why?"

"We rode for miles, la.s.s. Driscoll found another village, in the forest." Her breath skipped. "Nay, no one died, but they'd been raided recently. Little more than half their livestock was gone."

Her delicate brow furrowed. "But 'tis not the same, then."

He shrugged. "Who is to say the villagers did not anger the raiders and refuse to give up their stock?" She agreed with that. "The second village did not fight, but for a young lad who took a hit to the head." A pause, and then he added, "We captured two men just beyond the hamlet with the livestock."

"Irish?"

He shrugged. "They've refused to speak a word."

That marks them with guilt, she thought as she went to the basin and splashed her face with cold water, dried, then took back her comb. She freed the tangles as she spoke. "I had nary a clue afore, either. I could only bring the villagers closer to the castle or inside."

"'Twas your wisest choice until now." She twisted a look at him. "I have men already out on patrol, Siobhan. And will send more when they know the area and have a guide we can trust."

She nodded, suddenly seeing the benefit of his legions. She could never spare so many men for fear of leaving the ones here unprotected. "Allow Driscoll to select the guides, my lord. I trust him. And let Brody go with you if you need him." Her lips curved a bit. "He will find castle work tiresome after a bit and he is very accurate with a javelin."

"I will find them, I swear." Gaelan's stomach rolled with the memory of the child beneath the bench.

"I know you will." She saw it in his eyes, his lethal determination, and she came to him, gazing up into his handsome face as she braided her hair, weaving the bells. The sound made him smile softly. "Come below and break your fast."

"When I find my boots." He glanced around, and Siobhan walked straight to them, plucked them from the floor and dropped them in his lap.

"Hurry." She offered a weak smile. "I will need someone to blame for my tardiness."

"Lay it fully on me, wife." He slid his arm around her, dragging her close for a warm kiss. "And aught else you'd like." He wiggled his brows.

Smothering a smile, she scoffed, playfully shoving him back as she pa.s.sed to the door. Gaelan enjoyed the sway of her hips as he donned his boots, then, straightening, he peered to see she was gone before he withdrew the pouch, spilling the contents into his hand.

He stared, scowling, for glittering from the center of his palm was a silver spur.

A knight's spur.

"I am ready for my lesson."

On her knees in her herb garden, Siobhan looked up. He stood at the far end, a book she'd never seen before tucked under his arm and a basket in his hand.

"You wish to learn to read now? But-" She waved to the garden overrun by weeds.

"Everyone else is taking a meal and a bit of rest, Siobhan." He walked toward her, careful not to crush her seedlings. "So should you."

"I am not tired."

He squatted and she looked up. "I could make you tired." Those brows wiggled and she shook her head, her smile soft. He looked much the boy pleading for an extra comfit, and she sat back on her haunches, dusting her hands on her ap.r.o.n.

"Come dine with me. Then teach me."

She c.o.c.ked her head, aware again of what it took for such a proud man to ask for her help. He pulled her to her feet and they moved to a tree growing flush against her herb house.

Gaelan knelt, giving her the book, then pulled the cloth from the basket. He uncorked a jar of watered wine and handed it to her, then forged for the meal he'd asked Bridgett to prepare. He was starved, but more for Siobhan's company, and after the teasing they'd suffered this morn from Raymond, he knew why she'd hid out in this secluded place. The outer curtain, one wall of the keep and the herb house made three sides of a square, the kitchen closing off the fourth nearly completely, except for a gate to keep out the animals. There was serenity here, where the sun shone well enough over the low herb house, whilst the walls offered shade. He'd watched her from the solar before coming out. She looked like a serving woman, with her ap.r.o.n and the kerchief covering her hair. It was an English custom for women to cover their hair, but here, the ladies wore their manes like crowns and he found he liked it. As did his men.

Hair as beautiful as that of the Irishwomen should never be concealed.

Siobhan watched as he solicitously laid out the fair between them. It was the first time a man had ever done aught like this for her. And sipping wine, she settled to the ground to enjoy it, pulling her kerchief from her head. With his eating dagger, he cut portions of meat and goat cheese, sliced bread and fruit she had never seen before.

"Pomegranates," he said. "I'd fear they'd rot, for the men do not care for them."

"You have women in your groups, husband."

"Aye, but I gave all the choice to remain or not and most left with the few men who set back to England on their own."

"When?" She hadn't noticed a lessening of his ranks.

"The morning of our wedding."

She blinked.

"I sent word to the king then. We should hear from him in a month's time."

"Would he not approve?"

He glanced up from cutting food, spearing a chunk and holding it to her lips. "Hoping he will recall me and rescind his edict?"

"Hah, he would never do the smart thing." Smiling, she nipped the meat from his fingers, drawing back and chewing.

"I think he will be in shock but well pleased." He relaxed against the tree, removing his sword and laying it aside.

She held a cube of soft cheese for him. "Because he knew you had every intention of leaving me to the hands of another lord?"

Gaelan met her gaze. Leaving me. Not her people, but her. Ahh, la.s.s, you're letting me into your heart and unaware of it, he thought, grinning. "I would not do aught so foul to another Englishman. You are h.e.l.lion enough."

"Oh! You-" she gasped and shoved the next bite into his mouth. Gaelan chuckled deeply, and they fed each other; she sucked the soft cheese from his fingertips and he the crumbs from her chin. In an instant, he was leaning over the meal to kiss her and could stand no more, urging her closer.

"This is not a lesson in reading," she said, yet made no move to stop the kiss, her hand lightly on his jaw.

"'Tis more fun, I wager."

"I do not think you need any more practice."

"Compliments, my lady?"

She smiled against his mouth and leaned back, taking the book and shifting beside him. "Where did you get this?" It was bound, the pages st.i.tched secure in a spine.

"DeClare." Gaelan folded the remnants of the meal into the basket. "It comes from the east."

"'Tis beautiful." He watched her eyes skip over the pages, aching to know what they said. "'Tis a book of poems. Did DeClare translate these?"

Gaelan looked where she pointed to Raymond's scribbling between the lines and shrugged. "He was going to be a scholar, you know. Into the priesthood." She looked at him, shocked. "Aye. But he found he liked getting under a woman's skirts more than G.o.d would allow."

"He's been under a few already," she said with a nudge, and his brows shot up. "Tell him to be careful. 'Tis worse than the danger of a battlefield here, with so few men." He fished paper and a quill from the basket, and Siobhan gave him an old piece of wood she used to mark the rows as a firm surface. "There are a few girls who would like to snag a man as handsome as DeClare."

Stretched out and settled on his stomach, he looked up, eyeing her with a cheeky grin. "Handsome? Should I be jealous of that?"

"Be whatever you like," she said, tapping the book.

She pointed out the letters of his name, instructing him to re-create them again on the paper. Over and over he repeated the writings, learning the sounds to the letters, and though Siobhan was not surprised with his quick absorption, it was his handwriting that stunned her. Strong and fluid, it was beautiful. He learned the alphabet and was reciting the letters with each sound when he stumbled over one or two. She slid down on her side near him, propping her head in her palm. They repeated together.

"K, as in kiss?"

"Aye."

"P as in pa.s.sion."

She smiled. "Aye."

"E as in ... intercourse."

Oh, the rogue, she thought. "Nay, 'tis i-"

"-who would have some with me?"

"Husband!"

"Nay?" G.o.d above, he loved it when she got all indignant. "Then I will settle for a kiss."

She eyed him, then darted forward and pecked his cheek, but Gaelan snagged her at the base of her neck and took the advantage. He kissed her languidly, their bodies apart, yet his hand rode the length of her from shoulder to hip, a light caress that turned her insides to syrup. He offered naught more. But it was enough, enough to make her want, enough to make her remember that tongue playing elsewhere, and when it swept the line of her lips, dipping deep and retreating, she wanted the power of him, the weight of him crushing her deliciously. But he did not give it.

Ahh, Siobhan thought, her hand slipping to his jaw, her thumb smoothing over his cheek. 'Twas a courtly kiss, soft yet restrained. He was showing her in his own way that he would abide her wishes, yet she heard his breathing grow rapid with hers, felt his fingers flex ever so slightly at her hip. The wind rushed over them, the scent of mint and foxglove, Solomon seal and penny royal sweetening the moment. She wanted to feel his hands on her, feel the same stroking fire of last night.

Yet he leaned back, his gaze searching her features. He licked his lips, as if to sample her again.

"That part of you tastes quite different."

She turned ten shades to red and stuttered, yet said naught.

Gaelan laughed and kissed her once quickly, then rose, gathering up the writing implements, the book and the basket. "I will leave you to your work as I have mine." He walked from the garden, leaving her body hot and stirred, and she watched him close the gate and wink. She flopped back on the dirt. Oh, for the love of Saint Michael. She could deal better with his open a.s.saults, but this ... ahh, this was hard to fight.

Gaelan stared at the prisoners. They were guilty. Found with the stolen livestock and blood on their clothes, there was no question. "Speak or you will die for your crimes."

The men simply stared. Gaelan noticed the marks on them and glared at his soldier. "Beating them is forbidden."

The soldier colored and nodded, his posture stiff. Gaelan considered dealing with them immediately, but he needed information, a clue, and mayhaps a day or two without food would bring it.

That night she waited for him to come to their chamber and when he did not, she went looking, yet found Connal wandering the halls in his nightshirt. She scooped him into her arms and took him back to his room. "Where is your aunt?" Rhiannon shared a room with Connal of late, giving hers up to DeClare and two other knights.