His expression eased when he saw Keeley propped haphazardly on her pillows. She looked as though she was about to slide off the bed, and he hurried to prop her up. Exhaustion ringed her eyes and she grunted as he positioned her better.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“ ’Tis all right,” she said with a small smile.

“I’ve come for Rionna.” He frowned when he realized she wasn’t present.

Keeley nodded toward the far corner. “She’s there.”

Caelen turned and, to his surprise, saw her propped in a chair against the wall, sound asleep, her mouth open and her head tilted back. Then as he took a closer look around the room, he saw the tankard of ale and the empty goblets.

With a suspicious frown, he peered into the tankard only to find it empty. He glanced back at Keeley, whose eyes looked precariously close to rolling back in her head, and then back to Rionna, who hadn’t stirred a wit. He remembered all the ale she’d consumed at the table below stairs and how little she’d eaten.

“You’re soused!”

“Maybe,” Keeley mumbled. “All right, probably.”

Caelen shook his head. Foolheaded females.

He started toward Rionna when Keeley’s soft entreaty stopped him.

“Be gentle with her, Caelen. She’s afraid.”

He stopped, stared down at the passed out woman in the chair, and then slowly turned to look back at Keeley. “Is that what this is about? She got herself soused because she’s afraid of me?”

Keeley’s brow wrinkled. “Not of you particularly. Well, I suppose that could be part of it. But, Caelen, she’s frightfully … ignorant of …”

She broke off and blushed to the roots of her hair.

“I understand your meaning,” Caelen said gruffly. “No offense, Keeley, but ’tis a matter between me and my wife. I’ll be taking her now. You should be resting, not consuming ridiculous amounts of ale.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too rigid?” Keeley groused.

Caelen leaned down and slid his arms underneath Rionna’s slight body and lifted her. She weighed next to nothing, and to his surprise, he liked the feel of her in his arms. It was … nice.

He strode toward the door, barked an order to Gannon whom he knew to be standing on the other side, and the door quickly opened. In the hall Caelen met Alaric, who raised his eyebrow inquiringly.

“See to your own wife,” Caelen said rudely. “She’s probably unconscious by now.”

“What?” Alaric demanded.

But Caelen ignored him and continued on to his chamber. He shouldered his way in and then gently laid Rionna down on his bed. With a sigh, he stepped back to stare down at her.