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“You will not leave this room until the wedding, do you understand me?”
“I can’t marry you, my lord,” she said bravely, hoping she wasn’t doing the wrong thing.
“You can and you will. I have a missive from the king and he gives me his permission to marry you. You no longer have any say so in the matter.”
“I cannot marry you because I’m already married. To Jacob.” She held her breath and rested her hand atop the hilt of her dagger. Ricker cried louder, only infuriating the man.
“You lie!” he spat. “You have not married him. You will marry me.”
“I assure you, I am already married and cannot marry you, my lord.”
“Prove it,” he snarled. “If you are married to that traitor, then where is he?”
“He’s . . . not here.”
“Of course he’s not. And as soon as he and his makeshift little army arrives, they will be surprised to meet with the end of the swords of my army instead.”
“What do you mean?” asked Maira, hoping beyond measure that he didn’t know about the attack.
“I am not stupid.” He shouted to be heard over Ricker’s bawling. “I know Jacob is planning to attack when I send my men on the hunt tomorrow. But he and his army will all be surprised when they find out my soldiers are still here. They will die. Every single one of them will die for being so stupid. And you will marry me one way or another, I promise you that.”
“Nay. Don’t hurt them. Most of them are only villagers,” she told him. “They are no threat to you.”
“I know all about it, and I don’t care. You, as well as the boy and your cousin, will be locked in this room and not let out until I have slayed your secret lover. I cannot believe you betrayed me!” His hand shot out and he hit Maira on the face. Immediately, she drew her dagger, but Sir Gregory was pulling Ricker off the bed and holding him with one arm as the boy kicked and squirmed, trying to get away. “Don’t pull your blade on me unless you want to die as well,” snarled the man heading to the door with the crying boy under his arm.
“Where are you taking Ricker?”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s my son. I am going to shut the whelp up and teach him not to cry.”
“Please, don’t hurt him. He’s only a child.”
Sir Gregory stopped and turned around. “Mayhap you should have thought of that before you snuck him away to meet with Jacob. If anything happens to Ricker, it is on your head now.”
“Nay, leave the boy alone,” she said, rushing forward with her blade gripped tightly in her hand. Morag shot up off the bed and grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Nay, Maira. Dinna anger him more,” she said under her breath.
“Guard, lock them in the room and don’t let them out for anything,” Sir Gregory ordered his man. “Stay watch at their door in case they try to escape.”
“Aye, m’lord,” said the guard, closing the door. Maira heard him turning the key in the lock.
“Nay!” shouted Maira, flinging her dagger at the door. The blade stuck in the wood, wavering back and forth.
“Dinna worry,” Morag told her. “We have the tunnel and can still escape.”
“Aye,” said Maira, rushing over and opening the secret door. “Come on, Morag. We can no longer stay here.”
“Where are we goin’?” asked Morag, rushing after her.
“We need to sneak out of here because we have to warn Jacob.”
Maira led the way as they sneaked through the tunnel. Without a candle, they had to walk slowly. Morag was frightened in the dark and Maira had to hold her hand.
“Lady Maira,” came a voice from up ahead.
“Tommy? Is that you?” asked Maira.
“Aye,” said the boy. He came around the corner with a candle in his hand. “I wanted to report that the High Sheriff just went into his solar to meet with the Bishop of Durham. One of the other servants told me he overheard the bishop telling a guard he had something important to tell Sir Gregory that had to do with Lady Catherine.”
