Darragh smiled, answering absentmindedly while his eyes followed Seigine, who also left the table. Stretching, he went toward the side table covered with pitchers of ale and mead. Reaching toward a tall clay pitcher, he glanced around. Darragh turned to his father, Seigine still in his sights as the man left by way of the entry hall.
“Is something amiss?” Tadhg asked, his stoic expression intact.
“What d'ye mean?”
He glanced at Francis. “Are we laying a trap for anyone in particular?”
“Indeed we are,” Darragh said.
Darragh stood, tipping his head toward Francis, who also stood. “And we’ll know soon enough if we were successful.”
Brighit had waited at the door until she saw Seigine leave the table. Her hand gripping the latch, she counted to five before opening the door leading outside.
“Brighit.” A sense of satisfaction flowed through her when Seigine called her name. In a flash, she forced her expression to collapse into a frown as she turned toward the man.
He glanced around to see no one was near. “Little one, ye surprised me.”
She swallowed. “I did as ye demanded. If ye are not given the kingship, ’twill be because of yer own foolishness and not for lack of trying on my part.”
The man stopped close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look into his face, his heated anger pouring off of him. “Ye insult me and yet I am well pleased by the attempt.”
When he touched her cheek, she cringed. His hand stilled.
“But that is not the game ye will play now, certainly. Not when I wish to show my appreciation for yer efforts.”
He moved forward, trapping her between the wall and his huge body. “We have other things to see to now.”
“I will not be yer whore.” She spat the words at him. If this was the direction of his thoughts, it would be difficult to turn the conversation toward his brother. She prayed Darragh and the others were within hearing of the man—his voice was so low, it was nearly a whisper. When he pressed his hips against her, she tried to shove him away.
“Ho ho.” Seigine grabbed her hands, glanced behind him, and pushed her through the door into the outside. The pitch dark enveloped them as he dragged her into the shadow of the castle. She cried out in pain when he shoved her against the wall.
“I will see tothisnow.”
He pulled at the ties of his trews, glancing over his shoulder into the darkness. Brighit did the same, her ears straining to hear anything. They would never find them here. Nothing was going as planned.
“Stop this at—.” She cried out and his large hand covered her mouth, strangling her words.
Seigine’s eyes rounded, his face so close she could smell the sour ale on his breathe. “When I was so looking forward to ravaging ye? Will this be the way of it?”
She held his gaze, his meaty fingers squeezing her mouth tight. There was no chance of her getting him to talk like this. It took all her will power to shake her head knowing it would be a sign of her acquiescence. He beamed, stroking her cheek as if he were petting a cat.
He reached beneath his mantle and withdrew the serpent-headedmiodóg, holding it up to her face. “This is the very weapon ye used. Shall I show it to yer lusty husband?”
“I know I did not kill yer brother.” Brighit blurted it out, hoping to redirect his thoughts. “I stabbed him only once.Yemurdered him in a rage.”
He smiled. “Ah, very good, little one. I told ye that ye intrigued me.”
She held her breath and prayed his arrogance would make him want to tell her the rest.
“Ye did disappoint me in not killing him. I had such high hopes, but when I went to check on him, he was coming to even then. He shook his head, searching for ye. So I took the knife out and shoved him down. I stabbed him until he stopped struggling against the inevitable.”
“And ye say this is the dagger that killed yer brother?” Tadhg stepped away from the building, his hands at his waist.
Seigine didn’t move, his widening eyes remaining on Brighit. A panicked expression. “It is.” His voice louder now. “And I certainly should have mentioned that I personally witnessed the brutal attack. I was unable to stop it, but when I came to my brother’s aid it was too late to save him and the murderer had ridden off.”
“Unhand my wife.” The demand was delivered in a low, unyielding tone, Darragh’s voice as sharp as a shard of glass. “Immediately.”
“I cannot, my friend. She murdered my brother and she must face her punishment.”
