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Chapter 20
Maira stepped into the solar trying to hold back her anger when she saw Ricker lying in the locked cage across the room. “What kind of a man are you that you would put your own son in a cage?” she asked Sir Gregory.
“Come in the room and close the door,” he answered, standing at the foot of the bed.
“But I –”
“Do it!”
Ricker woke up and sat up in the cage and started crying.
“Shut up!” yelled the High Sheriff.
“You are a wretch,” Maira said through gritted teeth, running to Ricker. The High Sheriff grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, staring into her eyes.
“We both know damned well he isn’t mine, don’t we?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Maira looked the other way.
“The question is, how long will it take Jacob to find out and come after his son? And why hasn’t he come for you by now? I think you lied to me when you said you were married to him.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Hrmph. Well, it doesn’t matter either way. I’m going to have you and then I’m going to have to kill you.”
“Why? You don’t need to kill me.”
“Oh, but how wrong you are.” He reached up and stroked her chin, letting his hand linger and trail down her chest. She stood still, waiting for the opportunity to pull the knife out of her boot.
Then he smashed his lips against hers in a punishing kiss. Her instincts were to fight him, but she held back. She wanted to wait until he removed his weapons first.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” She reached out and unbuckled his weapon belt, dropping it to the floor.
“Oooh, I like that. An aggressive woman in the bedchamber.”
“Take off your clothes,” she told him.
“You first.” He reached out and fumbled with the laces on her gown. Wait for it, she told herself. Just hold out. But when he grabbed her breasts she could no longer hold back. She kneed him in the groin and pushed him down on the bed. She reached for his weapons, but he grabbed her and pulled her atop him. Throwing her to her back, his weight on her body kept her from reaching the blade in her boot.
“Get off of me!” she screamed, pounding her fists against his chest. At times like this, she hated being so petite. Without her weapons, she was virtually defenseless.
“Get your damned hands off my wife!” came a low, angry voice from the other side of the room.
“Jacob?” Maira turned her head to see Jacob emerging from the secret door in the wall.
“What the hell!” Sir Gregory jumped off the bed, grabbing his sword and holding it up to Jacob. “A little early aren’t you, Quincey?”
“Apparently a little late, but hopefully still in time. Maira, are you all right?” he asked, his sword clashing with the High Sheriff’s.
“I’m fine, Jacob. And I’m so glad to see you.”
“Why didn’t you go back to Whitehaven like you said you were going to do?” asked Jacob as he fought with Sir Gregory.
“I stayed to help you, Jacob. He means to frame you again by murdering the Bishop of Durham. And Ricker is your son.”
“I know,” said Jacob, managing to nick the High Sheriff on the hand.
“You will never get away with this,” spat Sir Gregory.
