Page 45 of Bold Angel
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 inher 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. Hecould 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.
