The Princess and the Templar (12 page)

The silence that followed was as loud as the blare of a thousand trumpets. And she knew the unnatural silence for what it was. The quiet before the storm. The false ease between birthing pangs. The benediction before the execution.

She didn’t have long to wait for the axe to fall.

“Princess Cahira,” Raul called out, the tone of his voice weary, “if you’d be so kind to step down from the wagon.”

Chapter Seven

Cahira met Raul’s gaze. His black eyes narrowed, their look as sharp as the winter wind. She dropped her gaze and stared at her bare legs, starkly outlined against the hay. Her skirts had bunched about her thighs.

Her face aflame, she tugged at her gown and scrambled to her feet. Ignoring the offer of his outstretched hand, she jumped from the cart and stood her ground on wobbly legs. But she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye again. Dread filled her, and she labored to draw a breath.

Three times she’d tried to escape, and three times he’d stopped her. Something told her she wouldn’t get another chance.

Raul kicked free of his stirrup and leaned down, offering his hand again. “Put your foot in the stirrup and mount behind me. I’ll take you back.”

Though his words were mild, she understood the determination behind them. She studied his long, brown fingers, thinking ’twas odd he didn’t dismount and place her on the horse. Perchance he didn’t want to force her. Alas, she had little choice but to obey.

Or did she? How would he react if she didn’t do as he bid? She forced her head up and thrust out her chin. “Nay, I think not.”

He knitted his brows and pulled back his hand, resting it on his muscular thigh. “What’s this, milady?”

“I’m not your—”

“I know. My apologies. Your Highness then.” He swung one leg over the saddlebow. “Does Your Highness need assistance?”

“Nay, I need no help. ’Tisn’t that.”

Now he was offering aid. As she’d thought, he wanted her ready acceptance, especially in front of Fallon and Loghan. But she’d not give Raul such an easy course.

Offering her back instead, she brushed bits of straw and chaff from her bodice and skirt. When she was well satisfied, she faced him again. “’Tis simple, really. I won’t go back.”

Fallon cleared his throat, and she glanced at him. He frowned and shook his head. Loghan, on the other hand, stood on the cart seat and said, “I’ll ’elp you, milady. You needn’t go back.”

Raul shot Loghan a grim look. The lad ignored him and jumped from the cart. Planting his booted feet wide, he stood beside her. A gust of wind whipped at her skirts and blew hair in her face. Her golden circlet fell to the ground.

She’d forgotten she still wore the piece. Last night seemed many months past. She kneeled to pick it up, but Loghan
was too fast. He scooped the circlet from the ground and presented it to her with a bow.

“Thank you, Loghan.” She smiled and patted his shoulder. His freckled face lit up.

Then a shadow fell across them, and she found Raul had urged his destrier closer. He shifted on his horse, and his broad shoulders blocked out the sun. He locked his gaze with hers. So intense was his look that she shuddered, feeling almost as if he’d touched her.

Alas, she didn’t want to think about him touching her. Even more, she mustn’t think about last night. If she allowed herself to remember how it felt to be in his arms, her resolve would weaken.

’Twas hard that, keeping her resolve. If she closed her eyes for one brief second, she would crave his touch and want his arms about her again, holding her tight and shutting out the world. More fool was she. He wasn’t her lover or her protector. He was her captor.

Flustered, she pushed her hair off her forehead and tried to think what to do next. Her only coherent thought was to worry about how she must look to Raul, dirty and disheveled and with straw in her hair.

“I’ll get the ’orse for you, milady,” Loghan offered, moving to the nag’s head and unbuckling the harness.

Again, she couldn’t meet the inky depths of the Templar’s eyes, for if she did so, she would be lost. Instead, she watched Loghan ready the carthorse, though she knew Raul wouldn’t let her go. A mummer’s play, this. An act she and the lad shared, make-believing she could escape. Why they played at it, she knew not.

Raul said nothing, merely sat his horse and waited. A meadowlark sang in the distance. The sun played hide-and-seek with a cloud. And three riders thundered toward them—the search party.

The game would soon be up.

Loghan lifted his head, saw the riders, and thrust the reins in her hand. “Milady, go now. Ride fast.”

She took the reins and vaulted onto the nag’s swayed back. That got Raul’s attention. He stood in his stirrups. “Your Highness—”

Fallon rose, too. “’Tis enough, Loghan. Come away, lad. Ye canna defy Sir Templar.”

But Loghan wasn’t listening. He was too busy grabbing Raul’s mount and throwing his slight weight against the massive beast. Caught off balance, the horse backed up a pace and tossed his head, trying to dislodge the boy.

“Ride, milady, ride.” Loghan sobbed, holding the horse’s head.

The destrier rolled his eyes and flared his nostrils. He loosed a trumpeting whinny and reared, pulling Loghan off his feet. But the boy clung like a cocklebur, refusing to let go.

Seeing Loghan tossed about, fear lanced through Cahira. Afraid he might be flung aside and trampled, she slid from the nag’s back and rushed to him.

“Nay, Loghan!” she shouted, grabbing his arm. “Leave go. Fallon is right. ’Tis enough!”

Raul brought his mount down and reached for the boy. Too late. Loghan let go and fell in a crumpled heap, tears streaming down his face.

Cahira gathered the distraught boy in her arms and rocked him. “’Tis enough,” she repeated. “You tried your very best. I’ll not forget how you tried to aid me, Loghan, ere I grow old and gray.” She tightened her hold. “Nay, I’ll not forget. You’re as brave as any knight of the realm.” Cradling his face between her hands, she made him look at her. “Don’t forget, as brave as any knight.”

“As brave as any knight,” Raul echoed.

She glanced at her captor, and for one perfect moment, they were in accord, wanting to honor the bravery of a stable lad. As she gazed into the dark pools of his eyes, she glimpsed the kindness there and the sympathy, too. Mayhap he saw his youthful self in the boy.

Raul would never be a father—what a waste. The thought blazed into her mind like a shooting star. She envisioned him holding a babe in his arms and leading a child through their first steps. Some instinct told her he’d make a caring father.

For his way was not the warrior’s way that her Da and brothers had followed. Before she met Raul, she wouldn’t have known there was another way, would have thought him a coward because he despised fighting.

Now she knew a man could live an honorable life without brandishing a sword. She touched the seam on her face, thinking of the irony of how they’d met. She’d known him as a warrior first but soon learned to cherish his gentler side.

“Why didn’t you flee, milady?” Loghan asked, rubbing his tear-stained face with his sleeve.

’Twas not a simple question.

“Loghan,” Raul broke the silence, “you must accept that your princess will wed an earl. ’Tis the way of the world.”

The boy glared at Raul but didn’t reply. She started to refute Raul’s words but thought better of it. What use to argue now? The game was over. She sighed, thinking she should have tried to run away, though she would have been caught. If only for Loghan’s sake because he’d been willing to risk everything for her.

“Loghan, a big part of being brave is understanding when you’ve lost and accepting defeat graciously,” she said.

His smooth brow furrowed, and she could see him turning the words over in his mind. “But if we lose, you’ll go ’way and leave us.” He got to his feet and dusted off his clothes. “We’ll not see ye anymore.”

That was the crux of it. What she hated more than having her keep and lands taken from her. Even more than being shackled to a strange Scot she didn’t want to wed. Nay, the worst thing was to lose her people.

Smoothing Loghan’s wheat colored hair from his brow, she said, “Mayhap I won’t be back. But I’ll never forget you or how you tried to help me. That’s the important thing—to remember each other. If you and I believe that, then I will come back.” She put one finger under his chin and tilted his head up. “Doubt me not.”

“Yes, milady.”

“Good then.” She straightened her skirts and glanced at Raul. “What of Fallon and Loghan, Sir Templar?” She moved to the side of his horse and placed her hand on the saddle. “I will go with you, but I ask your leniency for them.”

He inclined his head. “You have it.” He looked to Fallon. “The hay isn’t a ruse? There are crofters in need?”

“Aye, sire. As I said afore, the McDaniels have need.”

“Then go to them without delay.” His gaze moved to Loghan. “What your princess said is true. You’ve shown great bravery, lad, but you must admit defeat. Her Highness will always remember your courage.”

“I understand.” Loghan nodded, pulling his shoulders back. “And I will never forget my princess.” He dashed a hasty bow and dropped his gaze.

“Be off then,” Raul directed.

At his command, Loghan brought the nag back and harnessed him to the cart. Fallon tugged at his cap and slapped the reins across the horse’s back. The three knights galloped past the wagon and joined Raul.

Barclay drew his mount up. “Sir Raul, I see you found the princess. Is there aught that you need for us to do?”

“No, you may return to the castle. The princess will ride with me. I thank you for your assistance.”

All three of the knights, even Malcolm, looked her up and down and then nodded. Setting spurs to their horse’s flanks, they rode away in a cloud of dust. She watched them go, standing beside Raul’s mount. This time, when he leaned down and offered his hand, she took it. He pulled her up behind him.

Awkwardly perched on the cantle, she had no choice but
to cling to his waist, leaning into his body. The mesh of his chain mail felt as cold as the icy winter sea against her cheek. But his body was as she remembered, hard and honed as the armor he wore but radiating warmth. She savored the smell of him, musky male mixed with the soap he applied so liberally.

“Are you comfortable, milady?”

As comfortable as one could be, riding double and pressed against the first man who had kissed her and awakened her desire.

“Aye, I’m quite comfortable.”

“Then hold on.” He urged the destrier forward, and they settled into a bone-jarring trot.

She wanted to ask him to go faster, but before she could speak, the horse picked up speed and leveled out in a ground-eating lope that was easier on her joints. After being jostled in the wagon for nigh unto an hour, her whole body felt as tender as a newborn calf’s.

The wind whistled past her ears, and the ground blurred beneath the horse’s hooves. Going this fast, she felt herself slipping and she leaned closer, wrapping her arms tighter around Raul’s waist, burrowing deeper into his warmth.

She could shelter like this until they reached the castle. Nay, longer than that. For all her life. Shelter in the arms of this strong yet gentle man. But it wasn’t meant to be. Like two paths diverging in the woods, they would go their separate ways.

He said naught, but she could feel the muscles across his back grow tense. His body was drawn taut like a bow, as if he remembered how they’d come together last night. Remember? How could he forget?

How could
she
forget?

That desire had flared between them only made their course more difficult, for she was still his captive, nothing else.

How many times had that refrain played in her head? She knew well the situation. But her desire after last night in the stables opened a whole new world for her. A world of passion she didn’t understand—something Da and her brothers hadn’t bothered teaching her. But if her passion was ill-spent and the haphazard product of her naiveté, then what?

She did not know, nor did she understand the way between men and women. All she knew was that for better or worse, she and this warrior-monk were bound together by their passion. But it wasn't meant to be, and the thought of what she had to face made her weary. For the first time, she almost wished the drama to be over. Almost wished she was in Scotland. Almost wished she’d already wed the Sinclair.

Almost.

Thinking aloud, she asked, “Will I have time to say goodbye to my people?”

“Perhaps. We leave for Scotland on the morrow.”

****

Cahira sat on the lid of one trunk and watched Mildread bustle about the solar, packing the other. Her maidservant gathered stray items: a forgotten kirtle, a much-mended chemise, garters, and the odd brooch. She almost stopped Mildread and told her to leave the chemise because it was patched. But something stayed her tongue, a yearning to take her things, no matter how old or tattered or worn.

More fool was she, lugging two large trunks. Just because they were off to Scotland didn’t mean she’d given up trying to escape. Mayhap it would be easier to slip from Raul’s grasp whilst they traveled than being locked in Kinsale.

But when she seized the opportunity, she would need to flee unhampered, leaving her things behind. She understood this but still wanted her possessions about her.

And there was Mildread to consider. She couldn’t bear to think of departing for Scotland without her faithful serving woman, though Mildread had more than a few reservations about ships and traveling so far from home. What would happen to her when Cahira slipped from the Templar’s grasp?

Questions circled in Cahira’s head, weighing heavily on her mind. Was she being selfish, expecting Mildread to go with her? Lowering her gaze, she stared at her folded hands. She hated leaving all that she’d known. Her stomach felt like an empty pit, knowing she might never see her castle or people again.

Mildread must feel the same. Cahira pondered this but found no ready solution. As a maiden betrothed, she couldn’t travel hundreds of miles without a woman waiting upon her. Could she? Nay, Mildread must come, and Cahira would do her best to see her maidservant returned home. How she would do this, she knew not. But she would find a way.