Kiss of the Moon (Medieval Trilogy 2) - Page 95

She felt as if her soul were scraped raw.

“I was worried about you.” His voice rang falsely through the hall.

Liar!

“Thank God you’ve returned safely.” As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he squared his shoulders, then swaggered toward the dais. Inside, Sorcha cringed.

She’d always been able to read his thoughts and knew that this day he had a secret—a great secret that pleased him, a secret he savored.

Her hands turned to ice.

“Sir Darton has told me that you stole horses and tricked his men, just as you did with me at Prydd.” He clucked his tongue and smiled a cunning little grin as Lucy reappeared with more wine. For a moment his attention was distracted and he hesitated, sending the serving girl a look that fairly sizzled in the air. Lucy grinned back, coloring a little, and Sorcha realized that Tadd had been at Erbyn long enough to bed at least one of the women of the castle. Tadd’s tongue rimmed his lips before his gaze returned to Sorcha.

“I tried to escape,” she said, though she doubted he cared. Already he had allied himself with Darton, and that foreboded ill for everyone at Prydd as well as Erbyn. “Leah and I were being held prisoner.”

“By Hagan?” Tadd asked.

“Yes, but Darton kidnapped Leah and—”

“They were guests,” Darton corrected.

“Leah was never a guest! Your men carried her off to Erbyn, where you locked her into a room and forced yourself upon—”

“Sit!” Darton commanded in a voice that shook the rafters. Then, speaking more softly, he said, “Please, Lady Sorcha, sit here at the table and have some wine, for we have much to discuss with you.”

She wanted to argue and stand her ground, but she knew that opposing them would serve no purpose, for they had thrown in their lots together, that much was clear as glass. Instead of enemies, they acted as if they were fast friends. Sorcha was certain that their friendship was more deadly than any battle that had ever been waged. Her legs trembled slightly as she took the chair Darton offered, the chair next to his, the one in which she’d sat during meals when Hagan, lord of the keep, was at her side. Hagan … please, please be safe!

Tadd sipped his wine. “Lord Darton has acknowledged his part in the kidnapping of our sister.”

“Lord Darton?” she whispered.

“As I’ve already said, m’lady, you must accept that Hagan is dead,” Darton said.

“Never!” She tried to stand, but he pulled her roughly back to the chair, his fingers punishing as they manacled her wrist.

Tadd’s expression turned murderous, his eyes dark with a silent rage. “Lord Darton has been most generous in offering to pay for any losses we at Prydd have felt.”

“You mean for the lives of Keane and Gwendolyn and Henry? For the rape of our sister?” she said, horrified. “There is no payment that can begin to atone for his crimes!”

Tadd continued, and though his voice was even, a vein began to throb at his temple and his fingers clenched tightly as if he wished he could place his hands around her neck for arguing with him. “Darton has forgiven Leah for stealing from him, for escaping Erbyn and turning the stableboy into a traitor.”

“He’s turned this all around, don’t you see?” she said, sick with disgust. “He raped Leah, Tadd! Forced her into doing the most vile of acts, and when he was done with her, she was so humiliated and desperate that she attempted to take her own life!” She was shaking and tried to stand yet again. “For this she is forgiven?” Darton muttered something low in his throat and again forced her back to her chair, but she wasn’t finished with her brother. “What kind of man are you that has no pride, no sense of loyalty to your own kin?”

Tadd’s jaw tightened. “I came here with an army which is now unnecessary. My men are now loyal to Erbyn and joined forces with Darton’s as Lord Darton has agreed to end the feud.”

“How?” Then it hit her, as if suddenly her mind opened to the truth. “He bought you, didn’t he? Gave you gold for your sister’s virtue and the lives of your most trusted men.” Tadd didn’t argue, and Sorcha’s eyes narrowed. He must have hidden his soldiers—the ones she would recognize as part of his scheme. “When Father learns of this, he will see you hanged.”

Tadd had the audacity to chuckle. “Oh, I think not.”

“I will tell him myself,” she vowed.

This time Tadd laughed out loud, and Darton grinned wickedly.

Sorcha’s mouth went dry and all her worst nightmares became the soul-wrenching truth. Oh, God, no! Please, please …

“ ’Tis not possible, sister. For, although it grieves me sorely to have to tell you the dreadful news, Bayard returned to the castle alone. Near death himself, he’d ridden home to deliver the sorry word that our father was killed in battle—”

“No!”

Tags: Lisa Jackson Medieval Trilogy Historical
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