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 whit. He remembered all the ale she’d consumed at the table belowstairs 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.

So the little warrior was frightened. And to escape him, she’d drank herself into oblivion. Hardly complimentary to Caelen, but then he supposed he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t been … Well, he hadn’t been a lot of things.

With a shake of his head, he began peeling away her clothing until she was down to her underclothes. His hands shook as he smoothed the thin linen garment over her body.

He could see nothing of her breasts. She was a slight woman and she didn’t have much in the way of a bosom. Her body was lean and toned, unlike any other woman he’d ever encountered.

He ached to lift the hem of her underdress and pull it away from her body until she was naked to his gaze. It was his right. She was his wife.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.