The Pendulum (3 page)

"Silence," Douglas commanded. "Give it to me." He extended a hand and Deryll passed it to him. Douglas sat in the chair and examined the brooch before saying, "'Tis identical."

"The scratch is newly made," Deryll said.

"Yours did not have a scratch," Airin interjected before her father could reply. "I told you his was a forgery."

"You are certain this is the true brooch?" her father asked, and Airin wanted to bludgeon him. Only moments earlier, he 22

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had been willing to give her to the infamous Scarlet Knight.

Now, he protected her from Jason, when that was the last thing she wanted. The male sex!

"My lord," Deryll said, and again held out a hand for the brooch. Douglas handed it to him. He examined it once more, then faced Airin. "You know I speak the truth." He tossed the brooch on her lap.

"I will kill you for this," Jason hissed.

Deryll tilted his head. "At your command, my lord."

Respect welled in Airin. Sir Deryll Chisolm rose to any challenge with determination to win. Respect gave way to alarm. This situation would not be different. Murderer or no, the knight's blood would be on her hands.

"I found no scratch on your brooch," she insisted. "
It was a
fake
."

He regarded her and she was startled again to see amusement in his eyes. "You are certain, my lady?" he asked.

Her heartbeat quickened, but she managed to keep her voice level. "Aye."

"'Tis the same brooch."

"The scratch—" she began.

"Is newly formed," he finished.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Jason step toward Deryll. The Scarlet Knight turned and Jason halted. The two men remained motionless as if moving would break the thin ice they trod. Airin wanted to scream. Dying in a brawl over a woman would be an ironic fate for the
Scarlet Knight
, but she was unwilling to hasten his entrance into Hell. She threw back the covers.

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"Airin!" Her father leapt to his feet.

She rose before he could stop her. The room swayed precariously, then reoriented. Her father reached her side and grabbed her shoulders to force her back into bed. "Stand aside, Sir," she snapped.

He raised a brow, then gave a mock bow and stepped aside.

She took two paces, the room swayed again, and she stopped. "Your brooch is a fake, Sir Deryll."

Neither man moved. She cursed under her breath. The knight was going to ruin her scheme. She considered letting Jason kill him, but couldn't face two ghosts in Beaton Hall.

She blew out a frustrated breath.

"If both brooches are in question, I need not marry either of you."

"You will marry the victor," Deryll said.

"Indeed?" she replied in an icy voice.

"Aye," Jason agreed.

"I am no sheep to be bought and sold," she retorted. "Any man who takes me in that fashion will rue the day."

A grim smile curved Deryll's mouth. "I have rued many a day, my lady. I accept your terms."

"They are not terms! I will marry the man I choose."

"Aye," Jason said in unison with Deryll's "Nay."

Airin scowled. "I have the right to choose."

"Honor demands you marry the man who fulfilled your marriage condition."

"He makes a point, Daughter."

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Airin sent her father a recriminating look, then addressed Deryll, "Honor demands you produce the true brooch."

"You are willing to wed Lord Bothwell for
that
brooch. It is
mine
."

She drew a sharp breath. He referred to
her
, not the brooch. "You have no proof."

His gaze bore into Jason as he said, "Proof is in my might."

The earl's hand fisted at his side.

"You would die simply to claim me?" she demanded.

Deryll cast her a glance. "You are certain
I
would die?"

"Don't be a fool. Lord Bothwell outweighs you by three stones, and his skill is superior to yours."

The knight gave a mirthless laugh. "Should I be offended that you think so little of my skills, or gratified you fear for my safety?"

"There is no dishonor is accepting one's limitations." Airin stepped forward. "Deryll, this is not how I would see my friend die."

He angled his head in a tiny bow. "I am gratified 'tis my safety that concerns you."

She swept her gaze onto her father. "Stop them."

"You commanded I move aside."

"Stop them!"

"They both have a viable claim."

"Command them to abide by my choice."

"Your choice?" he repeated. "Sir Deryll fulfilled your terms, yet you rejected him. He has the right to demand your compliance."

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Deryll canted his head toward Jason. "Tomorrow, my lord?"

Jason answered with a curt nod. He stepped to the bed.

Airin tensed, but he only scooped up the brooch, then turned, and pushed past Deryll as he left the room. Airin snapped her attention onto the Scarlet Knight. He stared back. He was right. The scratch was newly formed. What did Jason want with her? Derryl broke eye contact and strode out the door.

Her gaze slid to his muscled calves. By all that was holy, what had she gotten herself into? She collapsed onto the bed. What did
he
want with her?

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Airin tiptoed into the hall, then cast a final glance out her bedchamber window at the gray dawn that raked the sky before clicking shut the door behind her. She pulled her shift above her ankles and padded barefoot down the hallway. Cold seeped from the stone floor into the soles of her feet. She neared the stairs and shivered. For the sake of appearing as undressed as possible, she had hazarded a nasty chill. She hurried down the stairs, then slowed. Not even a mouse stirred. She had counted on someone seeing her. She needed a witness to begin the rumor that would end with her found in the Earl of Bothwell's bed.

The Scarlet Knight would never acquiesce to the marriage.

Finding her with Jason, however, would force his withdrawal.

Warmth spread across her cheeks at the thought of Deryll's revulsion once he learned that she had wantonly offered herself to a man she hated—the man who had murdered her sister.

Airin stopped in front of the earl's door. In the safety of her own room, courage had flourished. Standing before his bedchamber, the magnitude of the next step shook her resolve. She stalled another moment, praying someone would appear to force her across the bedchamber threshold, but all remained quiet. She pushed open the door and slipped inside.

"My lord," she whispered, and took a tentative step forward. Light from a low fire in the hearth revealed his sleeping form beneath the covers, but he gave no reply.

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"Jason," she whispered. Still no answer. "My lord," she said in a louder voice.

Was he drunk? She frowned. Jason would not drink himself into oblivion on the eve of a duel. Airin blew out a frustrated breath and strode to the bed. She knelt on the mattress beside him.

"My lord, have you gone deaf?" She pulled back the cover, then gave a loud cry.

Yellow firelight glinted off the hilt of a dagger protruding from his heart. Her dagger—the one she had dropped in the Scarlet Knight's room. She stared, unable to tear her gaze from the barely congealed blood around the wound and the thin trail that ran down his side. Blood soaked the feather mattress in a wide circle.

Airin gulped air, crossed herself, then pressed her fingers against his chest. No heartbeat. She forced herself to examine more closely the blood. Not yet dry. He could not have been dead more than an hour.

Multiple footfalls sounded in the hallway. Airin yanked her attention to the door.

"You should have informed me immediately," came her father's taut voice.

"He did right," another man answered.

Dread slammed through Airin.
Sheriff Gewain.
She backed off the bed and whirled as the door opened.

Her father, Gewain, and Harold stared.

Her father stepped toward her. "Airin!"

"Look!" Harold pointed at her leg.

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Airin glanced down and gasped at sight of blood on her shift.

"Lady Airin," Gewain said, and shoved past Douglas.

"Halt," her father commanded.

The sheriff pivoted, his cape swirling about him. "She is caught, my lord."

Douglas' eyes hardened. "I will have you hanged this very morn for your insolence."

Gewain hesitated, then gave a terse nod and stepped aside.

Her father approached. "What means this?"

"Lord Bothwell and I are betrothed," she replied in a steady voice. "I came to his bedchamber, but found him dead."

Harold snorted.

Douglas yanked a plaid from the bed and threw it across her shoulders. "Cover yourself."

She forced back the nausea that rocked her belly at the thought of Jason's blood on the blanket. Her father grasped her arm and shoved past Harold and Gewain.

He remained silent until they reached her bedchamber.

When he closed the door behind them, he shoved her onto the bed.

"You surprise even me, Airin."

"You think I killed him," she said in astonishment.

"The knife is still warm from your hand."

"Why would I agree to wed him, only to kill him?"

"Do not play innocent with me!" Douglas slammed a fist down on the night table. "'Tis exactly what you planned."

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Airin thrust her chin forward. "If I meant to murder him, the deed would have been done long ago. I wanted proof—I wanted to see him go to the gallows a convicted murderer, his title and land stripped from him. I am a fool. I never imagined anyone would kill him." Her father remained unmoved. "I could not murder him with a mere dagger," she insisted. "He outweighs me by seven stones."

Douglas hesitated, then his eyes went cold. "Once he was finished between your legs, you could catch him as he slept."

Airin gasped.

"Now you are the injured maiden?" He snorted.

"I would not be so stupid as to use my own knife," she snapped. "I lost the dagger last night."

"Aye?" he asked in mock agreement. "I saw no dagger."

"The thief who stole Deryll's brooch must have taken it.

Harold
," she sneered. "It was he who assaulted me, then stole the brooch."

Her father stared. "You will send another man—even a servant—to the gallows for your crime?" He shook his head and dropped into the chair beside the night table.

A rap sounded at the door and Deryll entered. He closed the door, then inclined his head to Douglas. "My lord."

"Sir Deryll," Douglas said, "you may seek a bride elsewhere. This one will soon hang."

"Father!"

"I will do well with this one," Deryll replied mildly.

Airin started to ask him if he was desperate enough to gain land at the cost of marrying a murderess, but stopped short 30

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at the possessive look in his eyes. She had never seen him look at Bernadette that way.

Her father waved a hand. "You have done your duty. I will reward you. You need not sacrifice yourself."

Airin sucked in a breath.

Deryll leaned against the wall. "Are you terminating the contract?"

"Nay," Douglas replied. "But I will not wed you to a woman who bedded then killed another man."

Airin shot to her feet. "I did neither!"

Both men looked at her.

"Nay?" her father asked. "You admitted bedding him was your intent."

"Aye, but I would not condemn another to death for my sake. And what did you suppose? I did not wish this one—"

she jabbed a finger in Deryll's direction "—dead on my account, and I would not rest until Jason was brought to justice."

Her father regarded her for a long moment. "If you did not kill him, who did?"

Airin sat back on the bed. "I do not know."

Another knock rattled the door.

"Enter," Douglas called.

She pulled the blanket close about her shoulders as the door opened and Gewain and Harold entered.

Gewain addressed her father, "If you had taught her a woman's place, things might not have come to this."

"She denies killing him," Douglas replied in a dismissive tone.

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"Your daughter accused Lord Bothwell of murdering her sister."

Douglas looked at Airin. She knew he wondered what she had said to give herself away. "I accused Lord Bothwell of nothing," she replied.

"She asked questions," Harold said.

"Questions?" she repeated.

"Ye asked what Lord Bothwell was doing the day your sister died."

Airin frowned. "I never spoke to you."

He straightened. "Not me. The housekeeper."

Airin looked at Gewain. "You say I accused Lord Bothwell of murder all because this servant says I asked the housekeeper what he was doing?"

Gewain's eyes glittered. "'Tis but a small part."

"You believe the claims of a servant over my daughter's word?" Douglas demanded.

"We found her in his bed, knife in hand."

"'Twas not in hand," her father replied in a cold voice.

"Beware your facts, Gewain."

"Sir Gewain," Airin interrupted. "Harold discovered the body earlier, then summoned you?"

"Aye."

"I was not there when he discovered the body. Why would I return?"

"For the dagger you left in his body."

Dread coiled tighter in her. The village was an hour and a half's ride. Jason had not been dead long enough to summon the sheriff. "Why was my father not informed the instant the 32

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earl's body was found? Anyone could have come and gone in the three hour's ride to fetch you."