“Ye are a coward,” she said, partially because she was astounded at the realization and partially because she couldn’t quell her defiant streak.
Last night, nothing had been enough to get a reaction from Lord Blackwood. Even when she had held his own dagger against his throat, there had only been the slightest flash of anger in his eyes. He hadn’t reacted or retaliated.
Perhaps he is nae Dudley’s match.
“Did ye think it necessary to bring another man to defend ye? Are ye incapable of doing so yerself?” she pushed.
She didn’t know why it was so important to her that she get him to say something, to do anything that might break his cold, controlled demeanor, but it was. She was going to keep pushing until he gave her some other clue into just what kind of man he was.
“I had no trouble defending myself from your childish ploy last night. Why would you think this morning would be any different?”
His words had an effect on her that she didn’t like to contemplate. She wasn’t an inexperienced fighter, and she resented his implication that she was.
“Dudley sent the guard,” Lord Blackwood explained, dismissing her insult as though it were nothing more than a pesky fly. “Something about wanting to ensure that you are unable to escape so that our deal holds.”
“Och, aye. The one where ye barter my life for the lives of all the other Scots Dudley is threatening. How gallant of ye.”
Venom was soaked into every word, and she did nothing to stop it. She loathed the man and didn’t care to hide it. Once more, Lord Blackwood didn’t bother to respond. In fact, his only answer to her sharp words was to raise a singular eyebrow and wait.
“The horse is saddled. My men have already left,” Lord Blackwood said, his tone mimicking that of one speaking to a petulant child. “I have this.”
He dropped a piece of rope from his fingers and let it hang in the air between them. The skin around her wrists was already raw and stinging from where the guards had tied her hands behind her back the night before.
“Do I need to use it to bind your hands once more? Or will you manage to behave yourself while we leave this place?”
She scoffed.
“The only kind of behavior a place like this deserves, the only right thing to do in the presence ofLord Dudley,” she spat, “is to try to kill the man. Him, and whoever else tries to stand in my way.”
Narrowing her eyes, Sorcha issued her challenge, letting the unspoken threat hang there beside the dangling rope. Lord Blackwood sighed.
“Unlock it.”
The guard waited only a moment before following the command. He swung the metal door open, the hinges creaking with the movement. Lord Blackwood wasted no time in his task. As soon as there was room, he stepped into the cell and gathered both of her hands in the fingers of one of his.
Sorcha was taken aback at not only the speed and assurance of his movement, but just how large his hands were. There was nothing she could do to stop herself from wincing when he grabbed the inflamed skin. Almost as soon as the hiss escaped her lips, Lord Blackwood relaxed his grip on her, shifting his fingers higher.
“Do not make me regret this,” he muttered, his eyes locked on her even as his free hand wound the rope around her wrists.
She didn’t bother pointing out that he was binding her, so there was little she could do, even if she wanted to, the pain from the movement stealing her words. By the time he had finished knotting off the rope, she realized why he had uttered such a thing—the binding was loose. It would have been a simple enough task to free herself from the rope and slip out of his control. At least, it would have been had her body not been protesting every breath she took.
Locking her jaw, in an effort to silence any more sharp jabs at the Marquess and to contain her groans of pain, Sorcha gave a slight nod.
“Time to go,” he announced loud enough for the guard to hear. “I am ready to return to my own home.”
Taking a side step, Lord Blackwood put a firm, guiding hand on her shoulder and led her out of the cell. They paraded out of the castle like that, Sorcha then Lord Blackwood and finally the Baron’s guard following them.
Keeping her head straight, Sorcha’s eyes scanned over every door, every window, and every hallway they passed. She was still incredibly disoriented from the events last night, but she hadat least some hope that there would be some place for her to escape.
The tenuous and silent agreement she had just made with Lord Blackwood counted for nothing, and they both knew it. His grip on her shoulder told her as much, whatever the loose ropes might have otherwise signified.
If she could only get out of the estate, there was a chance that her horse would still be waiting for her and then she could?—
Och, who am I kidding.Her thoughts crept further into despair.That blasted creature has never liked staying put for more than an hour or two at most. ‘Tis just as likely that he has already returned to Kincaid Castle by now. The beast is long gone.
“Do not,” Lord Blackwood muttered again, the warning sending a chill down her spine.
It was as if the man had been able to read her mind, to know that she was looking for any chance of escape. She had been careful not to turn her head, not to make it obvious that she was searching for a way out, so she didn’t understand how he could issue such a timely warning.
