Free The Princess and the Templar by Hebby Roman

Please, milady, sit an’ eat.”
    But Cahira didn’t want to sit and eat. In truth the terrible sadness she’d tried to banish had invaded her soul, leaving her empty and forlorn. All hope was lost, too, for Malcolm would warn Raul of her plan.
    “Come, milady,” her serving woman beckoned. “’Tis braised chicken an’ lentil soup. Ye must eat to stay strong.”
    Strong. ’Twas a word her father and brothers revered. She must stay strong. Mustn’t allow her grief to overwhelm what she had to do.
    Biting down on her lip, she pushed all the gloomy memories aside and made a brash decision. “Mildread, I should leave tonight. Can Loghan have my mare ready?” She paced to the window and glanced down. “Who guards the drawbridge?”
    “I will send to Loghan, milady, and ’e will ’ave your mare at the ready. As for the guard on the drawbridge…”
    Cahira turned. “I must know. Will he aid my escape?”
    “Mayhap, I will go and see.”
    “Do you need coins?”
    “Nay, milady, your people wouldna want ye to buy their loyalty.”
    “Go then and return quickly.”
    Mildread curtsied. “I will do all that I can.”
    ****
    Raul stood outside the princess’ solar door. Like a pilgrim drawn to the Holy Land , he found himself lured to her side. But he had no ready excuse, for she’d recovered quickly and had no need of his physician’s skills.
    She wouldn’t welcome him, for he’d foiled her plan, conspiring with Malcolm to keep her from her kin. No, he’d not find a warm welcome within, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking of her and wanting to help her. But that was a fool’s wish, a sop for his guilty conscience, no doubt. Pivoting on his heel, he started down the hallway to his room.
    Then he heard it—the soaring notes of a harp. The golden sound surrounded him, holding him captive in its shimmering wake. Hesitantly, he turned and approached her door, drawn by the glorious music.
    Standing with his head down, he concentrated on the harp’s song, savoring each note and the lilting sound of her voice, blending in perfect harmony with the instrument. The ballad she’d chosen was a plaintive one, and he detected the sadness in her tone. Knowing he’d brought that sadness upon her, his gut twisted. With each strum of the strings, she plucked at his heart.
    How he wished his coming to Kinsale had been different—if only they’d met under better circumstances.
    Better circumstances.
    His mouth twisted into a sour smile. When would he learn? She was a high-born lady, and he was a penniless bastard. They inhabited two separate worlds. Even more, he was her captor and jailer. And she despised him for that. Her closed door might as well be the highest mountain or the deepest sea for all that separated them.
    “I’ve come for the watch, Sir Raul.” Evan, one of his Scottish knights, roused him from his pathetic thoughts. “There’s no need for you to stay.”
    Raul nodded and patted Evan’s shoulder. With slow steps, he made his way back to his room. Once there, he thrust her from his mind and busied himself with caring for his injured knights.
    After he tended their wounds, Dall and Morogh fell asleep. Raul put away his medicines and lifted the basin of water. He went to the window and threw the tainted liquid into the yard below. A dog barked, shattering the quiet night.
    He crossed to the table and took up a boiled rag, tearing it into a bandage. As he tugged at the cloth, his thoughts returned to the princess. He knew how determined she was to escape, so he’d set Evan and two other Scottish knights to take turns watching her.
    It was a makeshift solution at best, for the sooner they departed Kinsale, the better. The longer they tarried, the harder it would be to keep her from securing aid or escaping.
    He needed to make plans.
    He would leave Clach, whom he’d trained in the healing arts, to care for Dall and Morogh. Malcolm could finish restocking the castle and giving foodstuffs to the