“I trusted ye!” the girl told Rohr plaintively. “I lay down wi’ ye.”
What ho!
“Now that somewhat has come o’ it—”
What had come of it? What usually did. Well, and was this not a nasty snarl in an already-tangled thread?
“It canna be helped. D’ye no’ think I would get myself’ out o’ marriage wi’ that savage wench if I could? There is no way out. Caragh, dearest”—now he almost caressed her name—“I would ha’ wed ye if I could.”
Darlei’s heart throbbed. She caught her breath. Rohr would not like to know that she had heard. But so wrapped up in one another were they, neither of the couple so much as glanced at the door of the room Rohr no doubt believed stood unused.
“Ye still must.” Caragh’s voice throbbed with emotion. “I carry the heir to the clan, the Murtray who will follow ye.”
“If the bairn be a boy,” he cautioned her.
“It is a boy. Could a man o’ yer virility gi’ me aught less?”
Well… Darlei thought.
“Ye maun tell yer father the truth,” the girl urged.
Rohr went silent for a weighty moment before he said, “Caragh, love, he knows.”
“What? Ye told him?”
“I did. It does no’ matter. The marriage is by order o’ the king. Even my father canna prevent it.”
“Does he no’ care that I carry his grandson and heir?”
“I believe he does. He will no’ defy the king.”
“Och! Then marry her.” Caragh’s voice had turned sharp and vicious. She lowered it a bit so Darlei had to strain her ears. “Marry her if ye must, and then make sure she does no’ survive.”
“Wha’?”
“Kill her. Make it look like an accident, if ye will. Then ye can wed wi’ me.”
All Darlei’s incipient sympathy for the woman died swift and hard.
Rohr said nothing.
“Why d’ye hesitate?” Caragh demanded in a fierce whisper.
“’Tis murder.”
“So? Ye do no’ have soft feelings for her, do ye? Ye do no’ care about her?”
“Ha’ I no’ told ye so? I detest her. But Caragh—”
“Otherwise ye will be tied to her forever.”
“God forbid.”
“Then—”
“Caragh, there is no honor in murder.”
Darlei’s chest hurt from holding her breath.
