“It seems your sister has taken a fancy to the stableboy, and her bridegroom, Sir Marshall, does not like anyone else vying for her affections.”
“Sir Marshall?” Sorcha whispered, conjuring up the gaunt knight with devious eyes, bony skull, and long fingers. Cold, cruel, and heartless. This was the man to whom Leah was betrothed? Nay! Nay! Nay! “No!” She felt sick inside. “Leah will not marry—”
“ ’Tis arranged. Tadd has agreed.”
“But Leah—” Oh, Lord, what of her sister?
Leah was on her knees in the bailey, sobbing wretchedly and letting the rain pound upon her head and shoulders. “Noooo!” Suddenly catapulting to her feet, she lunged up the stairs, screaming and scratching, begging the guards to stop as the noose settled upon Bjorn’s neck.
Cursing loudly, a burly soldier hauled her back down the stairs, and she let out a keening wail that brought goose bumps to Sorcha’s neck.
“Release him and let her be!” Sorcha screamed from the window, but the guard ignored her pleas. Turning to face Darton, Sorcha cried, “You must stop this madness! Bjorn deserves not to die. ’Twas my plan to steal the horses and escape the castle. ’Twas I who begged him to help us!”
“So you want to join him?” Darton cocked his head toward the gallows.
She angled up her chin. “I will replace him. Rather than marry you.”
“Careful, my love,” he said, and she wanted to spit in his face. She didn’t, however, for fear he would give the signal to have Bjorn’s stool kicked from beneath his feet. Gritting her teeth, her fists clenched at her sides, she said, “Please, don’t do this.”
Darton hesitated, then cast a bored glance out the window. He held his hand in a signal, and as Sorcha watched in silent relief the noose was tossed away from Bjorn’s neck and he was led back to the dungeon. “ ’Twas not planned for this day anyway,” Darton said, slowing twisting a coil of Sorcha’s black hair around his finger. “ ’Twill be done at dusk tomorrow.”
“No!”
He let the loop of hair slide from his finger. “You are willing to plead for the stableboy’s life, eh?”
“Yes.”
“And bargain with me?”
Her heart nearly stopped when she realized his ploy. Her stomach rolled over, and she had to swallow hard not to retch. “This show was only for me, was it not?”
“Smart girl.” He lifted his brows. “Bjorn’s life as well as your sister’s happiness is in your hands. Marry me, and Bjorn will live. Leah will not be forced to marry a cold man who would as easily slit her throat as lie with her.”
“And Hagan?” she asked, barely daring to breathe.
“Is dead.”
“But his body has not been found,” she said, horrified at the twist of her thoughts. She felt as cold as death when she realized that if Hagan were found alive Darton would surely kill him. Darton would not stop short of murdering his brother to remain Baron of Erbyn. She swallowed back the lump of fear in her throat, but said, “I will marry you, Darton, if you promise Bjorn’s freedom and that Leah will be allowed to return to Prydd or go where she pleases. If Hagan is found alive, you will not harm him.”
Though there was no wind, she felt as if a gale as sharp as a blade of ice cut out her soul. The thought of marrying Darton was vile.
“Hagan is dead.”
“So you say,” she whispered over the thickness in her throat. Tears threatened her eyes, and her voice was low and uneven. It was all she could do to keep from falling on the floor and sobbing for the man she loved. She clenched her fists and refused to show Darton any more of her weakness. “But there is a chance that Hagan is alive, and I want your word that you will look for him no longer, and if he is alive, you will let him live as a free man.”
“Think you I would ever hand back Erbyn to him?”
“Nay. I did not ask for that, Darton,” she said, forcing her gaze to meet his. His face was blurred as she stared through tears. “It matters not if he is stripped of his possessions, but you must vow to me that he will live.”
“And for this you will marry me?”
The words lodged in her throat, but she forced them over her tongue. “Aye, my liege,” she said, hoping to sound obedient when she wanted to spit in the cur’s face. “I will be your wife.”
“Then we will make haste. The wedding will be tomorrow at dawn.”
Bjorn stared at the moon through the small window high over his head. In the rat-infested dungeon, he glared at the night sky and vowed his vengeance. He’d been toyed with today, and he still felt the scratch of hemp at his throat. More frightened than ever in his life, he’d learned something vital when the hangman had tightened the noose around his neck. He could face death, but not without some sense of dignity, and he would not willingly be led back to the gallows until he’d tried to pay back Darton in kind for all the evil he’d brought to Erbyn … and to Leah.
For, in truth, Bjorn felt little loyalty to the castle or the lord, but for the first time in his life, he cared for another person; someone other than himself.