She yanked the covers from over her head at the same moment someone appeared in the doorway, Deirdre’s heart jumping that Liam had returned for her—but it wasn’t him at all.
She gasped as Darragh strode toward her, a knife in his hand that flashed in the candlelight.
“Get up, woman.”
She didn’t get up, so shocked she couldn’t move as he wrenched aside the blankets and grabbed her arm to pull her roughly out of the bed.
Wincing in pain, she gasped again when he shook her so hard that it felt as if her teeth rattled, her head snapping back and forth.
The linen nightgown that she wore splattered with water for Darragh was dripping wet from head to toe, his expression so ominous that Deirdre felt an icy chill.
“Put on some other clothes—quickly!”
Still holding her arm, he half dragged her toward the carved chest at the foot of the bed and threw open the lid with the hand that held the knife.
She didn’t dare to struggle for fear he might cut her, Deirdre nearly crumpling to the floor when he abruptly released her.
“I said get dressed—now!”
Bobbing her head, she righted herself and dug inside the chest for trousers and a shirt even as she felt Darragh grip the back of her nightgown and rip the garment from her body.
Crying out, she spun naked to face him, but he struck her then so violently across the face that Deirdre saw white in front of her eyes, her knees giving way.
She would have collapsed if Darragh hadn’t cursed vehemently and hauled her to her feet to whirl her back around to the chest.
Her body shaking, her fingers trembling, she forced herself to dress hastily in spite of the near-incapacitating fear gripping her even though her mind screamed to fight him.
To spin around again and try to gouge out his eyes or thrust her knee into his loins, but the knife suddenly pressed to the side of her neck told her that Darragh had sensed her thoughts.
“I know you chose that bastard O’Toole over me, but he won’t have you. We’re leaving Glenmalure—by God, woman, find your shoes!”
Deirdre did, feeling so sickened now that she felt as if she might vomit when he pulled a woolen cloak from the chest to whirl it around her shoulders.
No shoes on her feet, but a pair of leather slippers was all she managed to don before he grabbed her by the shoulder and steered her from the bedchamber.
The cloak so voluminous that she almost tripped, though he jerked her upright to half drag her through the dwelling-house to the door, which was flung open.
Deirdre saw a horse waiting there, her heart sinking as Darragh pressed the knife to her back and propelled her outside into the pouring rain.
“Don’t think I want you for myself either, I never did. The gold your father gave me pales against what the Normans will offer for you, aye, the daughter of Ronan Black O’Byrne, their hated enemy. Yet I will not hesitate to kill you if you scream for anyone to save you, woman. The gates are already open for me to leave—forusto leave!”
Deirdre was hoisted onto the horse before she could utter a word, but she didn’t dare make a sound as Darragh mounted behind her, the knife pressing against her ribs.
“Smile, Deirdre, aye, laugh so the guards believe you’ve changed your mind and chosen me instead of Liam O’Toole!”
What could she do but oblige him? Tears stung Deirdre’s eyes and melded with the cold rain as Darragh kicked their mount into a gallop.
The pointed edge of the knife prompting her to throw back her head and laugh as if she were insane while they rode through the three sets of gates and out into the open, leaving the stronghold behind them.
CHAPTER 11
“Father, allow me to go check on Deirdre,” Eva requested again, though Ronan shook his head while Liam, too, wanted nothing more than to return to her.
“She needs rest, daughter. In an hour or so or mayhap sooner when the storm has passed. For now, let us stay here in the hall where it’s warm and dry.”
Eva gave a small nod, though she glanced doubtfully at Nora, who sat beside her husband, Niall.
“Aye, after what she suffered, rest will do her good,” he agreed with his elder brother, Liam noting again that Niall was of a more easygoing temperament than Ronan when he leaned toward him. “Though it wouldn’t hurt for Eva and Nora to peek in on her. I will accompany them and make sure they’re as quiet as mice and return straightaway.”
