The Pendulum (4 page)

The sheriff crossed his arms. "My presence frightens you, Lady Airin?"

He was avoiding the question. Her heart beat faster. "A servant does not change law," she replied.

"I am the law."

"Nay, sir. My father is the law." She lifted her chin. "So says King Robert."

"King Robert has yet to hear the circumstances. He will agree with my right to mete out justice."

"My God," she laughed. "You are a fool."

His face reddened, but he was given no chance to reply.

"He was here, too." Harold pointed at Deryll.

A dark light flickered in Gewain's eyes and Airin realized the sheriff liked Deryll no more than her father. A tremor shook her. No noblewoman hung unless for treason, and King Robert would not readily imprison Douglas Keith's daughter.

But Gewain would not dismiss an opportunity to elevate himself by bringing low not one knight, but two. She cursed her foolishness. In her determination to avenge Madeline she had neglected to consider any consequences.

She met Gewain's gaze. "My sister could not give Lord Bothwell children. I have wondered of late if the shame became too much." Airin swallowed the pain that twisted her heart.
Forgive me, Madeline
.

"Is that so?" The sheriff laughed softly. "You are a marvelous actress, my lady."

Deryll straightened from the wall. "Actress?"

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"Actress," Gewain repeated.

"Only last night I promised to wed Lord Bothwell," she said.

Gewain lifted a brow. "Have you a contract?"

"Nay. We only—"

"Witnesses?"

"My father and Sir Deryll."

"Sir Deryll wanted to wed her," Harold interjected.

Airin wanted to squash the little bug.

Surprise flashed across the sheriff's face. He faced Douglas. "Sir Deryll wished to wed your daughter? Forgive me, my lord, but one of them is a murderer."

"We were to marry," she insisted. "He fulfilled the marriage condition." She winced inwardly, wondering where Bothwell had hidden the brooch.

"The
brooch
." The sheriff flashed a look of utter contempt.

"I heard of the quest. You think much of yourself, Lady Airin."

"Enough not to waste my charms," she replied coldly.

He nodded slowly. "Aye, and your charms would be wasted on one such as Jason Bothwell."

She longed to throttle him. "I have said, I agreed to wed him."

"Because he fulfilled the marriage condition."

"Nay. His brooch was a forgery."

"Forgery?" Gewain said in surprise. "My God, lady, you can twist a sword into a knot. Where is this brooch?"

"Lord Bothwell took it."

Gewain turned to Harold. "What say you?"

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The servant cast Airin a sullen look. "I know not where he put it."

Deryll stepped forward. "No matter."

Airin frowned. "What?"

Deryll faced Gewain. "Before Lord Bothwell arrived yesterday, Lady Airin and I were betrothed. He ignored the betrothal and demanded her hand. Airin feared for me and went to beg for my life."

"She admitted to going there to bed him," Gewain said.

"Aye," Deryll agreed. "When she found Lord Bothwell dead, she feared I had committed the murder." Deryll looked at her.

"You need not fear, Airin. I passed the night in the great hall, and," he managed an ironic smile, "I found your brooch." He opened his palm to reveal the brooch. "It must have fallen under the bed when you were attacked."

"Attacked?" Gewain interjected.

The knight nodded. "Last night, while she admired the brooch, someone attacked her. The room was set afire. She barely escaped with her life."

Speechless, Gewain's stepped aside as Deryll strode to Airin. Deryll's gaze locked with hers while he gently moved aside a corner of the blanket. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric. The warmth of his hand sent a shock through her. She swallowed, but kept her gaze fixed on him as he pinned the brooch to her shift, then stepped back.

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CHAPTER FOUR

Deryll's explanation of her involvement had struck so close to the mark it startled Airin. How much easier it would have been to let Lord Bothwell slay him. She reached up and touched the brooch. She would toss the cursed thing into the loch at first opportunity. Nay. She would ride
today
and
throw
it in.

"This is the brooch?" Gewain broke the silence.

"'Tis my brooch," Deryll replied. He angled his head toward Airin. "A gift for my bride."

This had gone far enough. Airin straightened. "I would recover my senses. Leave me."

The sheriff shook his head. "My questions will be answered."

She stared in amazement. "I have entertained too long in my night clothes."

Deryll faced the sheriff. "We shall await her in the great hall."

Gewain opened his mouth, but her father interrupted.

"Leave my daughter."

"I must—"

"
Enough
." The word crackled with menace.

The sheriff's hand twitched at his side, and Airin watched in stupefaction. She let out a silent breath when he turned and stalked toward the door.

"And you," her father pointed a finger at Harold, "do not set a foot outside Huntley Castle."

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The servant's eyes snapped onto the sheriff's retreating back.

"He will do you no good," Douglas growled.

The servant cast a wide-eyed glance about the room, then hurried after the sheriff. Deryll turned to follow.

"Sir Deryll," her father said.

The knight turned and Douglas motioned for him to close the door. He did as bade and her father looked from Deryll to her. "The two of you shall be my death. Which one of you killed Jason?"

"You acknowledge, mayhap, 'twas not me?" Airin murmured.

Her father scoffed. "Do not forget how well I know you, Daughter."

"I did not kill him. God knows, 'twould be simpler if I had.

What of this?" She tapped the brooch. The length of the stickpin jabbed the tender flesh below her collarbone. "'Tis Jason's brooch." She motioned at Deryll. "He stole it."

"
Retrieved
," Deryll corrected.

"You stole it, then killed him."

"I would have to kill him first, then steal it."

"Your confession gratifies me."

"I never left the great hall," he replied, unruffled.

By God, she was tired. "You paid someone to accomplish the deed."

Deryll crossed his arms over his chest. Airin was startled to discover her gaze fixed upon the chest hair visible at his gaping collar.

"I ... paid someone to kill Lord Bothwell?" he asked.

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Airin jerked her attention onto his face. His gaze sharpened and a tingle traveled her belly. "You stayed in the hall all night in order to elude suspicion," she shot back harder than intended.

"If you believe this, why not tell Gewain?"

She took a deep breath. "Because Jason deserved to die."

"How gratifying that I am more honorable than your murdering brother-in-law."

Airin paused. Did he believe she was right about the earl?

"Jason's cruelty ran deep," she said carefully.

Deryll straightened. "What do you mean?"

His eyes had turned cold as the North Sea. He believed Jason abused her—and it angered him. "He did not harm me."

The knight studied her. "Nay?"

"Nay."

"Prove it."

She blinked, then lifted her chin. "Because he would not have lived out that day."

"Aye," Deryll murmured. "I do not condemn you for hating him ... or killing him."

Airin sucked in air. His actions a moment earlier screamed that he was the killer. Was he a skilled enough actor to feign acceptance of a crime she was accused of, but that he had committed?

Douglas rose. "You have made your bed," he said as he strode to the door. "Now you must lie in it—" he paused, hand on the knob, gaze locked with Airin's, "—together."

She opened her mouth, but he raised a hand. "It is time you married. Sir Deryll fulfilled the marriage condition and, he 38

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paused, his tone softening, "you no longer need fret about revenge." He frowned. "As for Gewain, I may have to appeal to King Robert. Do not leave the castle. If he arrests you without my knowledge, he could condemn you before I found where you were imprisoned."

Airin's heart pounded. "Surely, he fears your sword."

Her father's mouth thinned. "Gewain has not forgiven my sanction with King Robert."

"But King Robert will—"

"Once you hang, King Robert may not be inclined to intervene."

She nodded. Her father had never hidden the truth from her. She wondered if, in this case, ignorance might not have been preferable.

Douglas's gaze shifted to Deryll. "If you killed Jason and Airin suffers as a result, I will run my sword through to your soul."

"Your trust has not been misplaced," the knight replied.

Her father turned toward the door.

"Father."

He looked over his shoulder.

"I swear by God, I did not kill Jason. I have never lied to you. I wanted him to pay by the hangman's noose. If ... if I had murdered him, I would not deny the truth."

He studied her for a long moment, then left.

Deryll's gaze settled on her. A tremor climbed her spine.

"Do you fear the hangman's noose?" he asked.

"Nay," she replied, then silently cursed her too-quick tongue.

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"And me, Airin," he added in a soft voice, "do you fear me?"

His gaze dropped to her breasts and her pulse jumped to a gallop. He returned his attention to her face, then pivoted and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Airin shoved off the bloody plaide and tossed it on the floor. How could she have been so short sighted? She unfastened the brooch, then slipped it free of her shift and stared at it. How had Deryll come into possession of Jason's brooch? She wanted to laugh. The earl had stolen the brooch from Derryll, then the knight had stolen it back. She turned it over, then froze at sight of the scratch.

* * * *

"Cerdwin!" Airin spotted her nursemaid at the base of the stairs and flew down the narrow steps to the landing. She threw her arms around the older woman's neck. "'Tis good to see you." Airin stepped back, holding her at arm's length. As was her custom, Cerdwin's plaited hair coiled like a crown atop her head, and a white apron covered her gray dress. Her blue eyes shone with keen intelligence and an indomitable spirit that had kept the gates of heaven at bay. "When did you return?"

"A few moments ago. What is this?" Cerdwin lifted the silver chain around Airin's neck, pulled it free of the dress's neckline, and dangled it in front of Airin.

The attached brooch swung in perfect motion.

Apprehension resurfaced. Jason had stolen Deryll's brooch, then scratched it in an attempt to fool her. Yet, the scratch 40

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now appeared as old and faded as it would have if the brooch was her great grandmother's. But it was not Brianna's brooch.

Even now, Airin could discern the curl over the coat of arms that was slightly smaller than the other. Brianna had described every facet of the brooch, and not once mentioned the flaw.

For an instant, Airin envisioned her great grandmother as a young bride, the true brooch pinned to her plaide. It had meant more to her than any other possession. After fifty years of marriage, Duncan Keith died, leaving Brianna with nothing but memories—and the brooch. When, the brooch disappeared a year later, she mourned the loss of this last connection with him.

Cerdwin released the brooch, pulling Airin from her reverie. "How is it you came so soon from the lowlands and without sending word?" the maid asked.

Airin tucked the brooch back inside her dress. The metal settled between her breasts, its coolness instantly seeping through the thin shift to her skin. "Coming was just as easy as sending word."

Cerdwin clucked her tongue. "Fool others, my lady, but not Cerdwin. I weaned ye, and know every thought in that pretty head. You came to spoil your father's marriage plans."

"And why not? He schemed behind my back." She still hadn't forgiven him.

The maid straightened. "Sir Deryll Keith fulfilled the marriage condition
set by you
."

Airin gave a grim laugh. "'Tis strange business, Cerdwin."

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"Aye," the maid's tone softened. "News of the murder has spread halfway around the country."

Airin lifted a brow. "All before the morning meal?"

"Never mind," Cerdwin said. "There is a wedding to plan."

"What need have I of marriage?" she replied bitterly. "I have seen the result of that holy institution."

"To the devil with your father's title and lands, then?"

In one fell swoop, the old woman had cut out Airin's heart.

Four years ago, when Madeline married, Airin told herself their father would now have the son he craved. He never made her feel the deficit of being female, but a woman could not carry on the Keith name, work the land, and continue the legacy that Douglas Keith had built by the sweat of his brow.

No knight was more respected. Born to a poor baron, he determined to add to his father's meager holdings. At eighteen, he entered David II's service and, at twenty, was knighted for valor on the battlefield. Two years later, Robert II assumed the throne and wasted no time in securing Douglas' allegiance. Robert betrothed Judith McNaught to Douglas. Judith's father, Lord Malcom, the Earl of Arbothnott, sired no sons, and Douglas inherited the earldom at his death. Regret pricked Airin. Neither her grandmother nor mother had produced a son. What if she, like Madeline, couldn't bear even a daughter?

She faltered, suddenly realizing the meaning of her thoughts. How had she remained ignorant of her inner fears?