GENRE: Historical Romance
Gordon Sinclair’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the blood curdling scream that cut through the cool early morning. Staring into the gray fog, he could barely make out the figure of a woman, two men on each side of her.
“Elizabeth, why'd ye do it?” Gordon muttered to himself. He stood toward the back of the stairs leading to the scaffold, a lonely noose swinging slightly in the breeze above them kept drawing his eye.
The woman approaching was barely recognizable. Gordon still couldn't believe the events that had led them both here. As he watched their approach, he could see the filth that adhered to Elizabeth’s once creamy skin. Her long brown hair was unbound and hung matted and dull past her shoulders. He forced himself to memorize each detail, knowing he would need strength to do what had to be done.
His lips tightened as he clenched his jaw. His brows drew together, watching Elizabeth’s once lively eyes shift from side to side like a crazed animal in a snare. The self-assured Lady Crichton, beautiful and proud, was gone. What Gordon saw now was the shell of a woman. Broken and terrified to face her fate, a fate that she brought upon herself.