The Pendulum (7 page)

She pointed at him. "'Tis yo-you-your fault."

"By God, Airin, you will send me to the grave before I have time to deserve it."

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She laughed harder. "Never f-f-fear. You alrea-dy deserve it."

He stared for another instant, then threw back his head and laughed. Airin slid to the floor with a plop. He leapt to catch her, but she waved him off. He squatted beside her and waited until she quieted. She took a deep breath and leaned her head against the wall.

"How is your arm?" he asked.

She bent, then straightened it. "I feel no pain."

"You will."

Airin shrugged. "That will teach you not to sn—" she pursed her lips against another fit of laughter, then said with slow deliberation, "sneak up on me."

"I see your tomboyish ways stand you in good stead."

She knit her brow.

"The knife," he explained.

She rolled her eyes. "A woman learns how to defend herself and she is mannish." She regarded him. "What were you doing in the passageway?"

"I was with Cerdwin when Nathan arrived. When he informed us you were alone with your father, she remembered this passageway. I should have thought of it after you entered my bedchamber in the same fashion."

She caught the censorious note in his voice and said,

"Indeed, 'tis all my doing."

"I wanted to see this passageway." His brows furrowed. "I will post a guard inside the room."

Dread snuffed out the last of her amusement. "Have you learned anything of the attacker?"

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"He used a dagger much like yours."

She frowned. "'Tis an uncommon weapon for a man."

Deryll nodded.

"What was my father doing in the stables? He does not spend a great deal of time there. I would expect him to be with Gewain."

"He received a note to meet someone."

Airin straightened. "A note? Where is this note?"

"Gewain has it."

"You gave it to that fool?"

"Beware, Airin. Gewain is no fool."

"He is incompetent."

"Competent enough to hang you. Who has a grudge against your father?"

She gave a short laugh. "Besides Gewain?"

"The would-be murderer chose his time well," Deryll murmured. "Copying the weapon you used to murder Jason may well be his freedom."

"Me? You play your hand well, sir."

He shook his head impatiently. "Cease fretting. I do not blame you for killing him."

Airin tried to rise and tripped on her skirt.

Deryll grasped her arm.

"Release me," she ordered.

He did, and she scrambled to her feet. Airin poked his chest. "More and more, I wish I had killed him. Bah! This is your way of throwing me off your scent."

"Throw you off my scent?"

"Do not think to fool me," she snapped.

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He lifted a hand, palm out. "Never. But, pray explain why I killed him."

"For the cursed brooch."

"But I had a marriage contract," he said as if musing out loud.

"Without my signature."

"Why did I simply not steal the brooch?"

She shot him a sour look. "I married you as my father commanded. Marriage does not mean I have altered my opinion."

"But I was in the great hall—"

"Ohhhh! Yes, yes. I know."

"If I lose you to the gallows," he went on as if not having heard her, "I have no wife."

"Nay—only my lands and property to console you."

"Land and property will not warm my bed." His eyes darkened and her belly did a flip.

Airin yanked the chain from within her dress and thrust it toward him, the brooch swaying. "The brooch is not real."

He did not move.

"By the saints, you were never this stubborn as a boy,"

she muttered

Deryll laughed. "Who is this boy you speak of?
I
am no different today than I was then."

"This-brooch-is-not-real." She flipped it over and shoved it toward him.

He squinted at it, then looked at her. "What have you done to the scratch?"

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Airin turned the back toward herself and looked closely.

She froze at sight of the nearly smooth scratch.

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A rap sounded on the door. Airin jumped as Cerdwin called, "'Tis me."

Deryll strode to the door and opened it.

Cerdwin paused in the doorway, her gaze on the secret passageway, then she looked at Deryll. He shrugged and she hurried to Douglas. "Preparations for the wedding feast are nearly completed," she said.

"Wedding feast," Airin repeated.

"Aye." She inspected the bandage. "Father Tristen will not arrive today. He is north performing another marriage."

"No matter," Deryll said. "He can perform the religious ceremony when he returns."

"A wedding feast..." Airin paused. "'Tis unseemly with my father on his death bed."

Cerdwin laughed. "Ye always had a flair for the dramatics.

The ceremony was private. The
marriage
is public. A celebration insures everyone witnesses the consummation."

Airin's gaze riveted onto Deryll.

Amusement lit his eyes. "Will you so much mind the witnesses?" he asked.

Airin gaped, then jumped at Cerdwin's, "
Sir Deryll.
"

He looked at her. "'Twas what you said."

The maid clucked. "You know full well I meant they will know the consummation will follow the celebration."

Airin dropped her gaze to the brooch. What had happened to the scratch? "Cerdwin," she began and looked up.

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Deryll's attention fixed on something behind her.

She turned and saw Perry in the doorway. He stared at Deryll. "Perry," she said. The minstrel did not answer. "Perry."

Perry's gaze jerked onto her. He eyes were red-rimmed.

Guilt stabbed at her. She had never welcomed the young man's attentions, but neither had she asked him to leave.

When he arrived at Huntley Castle a year and a half ago, his child-like affection was immediately apparent.

"You are truly married?" he asked.

A tremor rippled through Airin, but she gave a soft smile.

"Aye."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Ye did not wish to wed.

You said so."

"Sir Deryll fulfilled the betrothal condition."

The minstrel studied her. "If you are truly wed, why call for a priest?"

His tone was harsh. Airin had never comprehended his moods. Artists and musicians bore fragile temperaments, but she had not thought a man could be overly sensitive. "My father would see me married in the church," she replied. "'Tis fitting."

His eyes widened. "You married outside the church?"

"Nay. We—"

"What brought you here, minstrel?" Deryll cut in.

Perry's eyes flashed annoyance, then he smiled and his countenance smoothed. "They sent me from the kitchen. The preparations are ready."

"We will be down directly," Deryll said with a curt nod.

Perry bowed, then disappeared down the hallway.

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"Strange little man," Deryll muttered.

Airin whirled. "You were rude to me, as well as Perry."

"Indeed?" her husband asked.

She scowled. "I do not care for being patronized."

"You were about to reveal personal concerns to a stranger."

"Perry is no stranger." She gave a humorless laugh. "And what personal concerns would that be—the marriage everyone knows was performed in this room before Cerdwin and an unconscious man?"

Deryll crossed his arms. "You were about to reveal a desire to secure the marriage's authenticity with Father Tristen's blessing."

She pursed her lips. He was right. "I warn you," she said,

"do not interfere in my concerns."

"Lady, you are my concern." He closed the two paces between them, pulled her to him and kissed her hard. He released her just as abruptly and strode to the door. "I shall be downstairs. Cerdwin, when you finish, bring my wife to the great hall."

Airin stared open mouthed as he disappeared down the hallway. She turned to Cerdwin, but was cut off when the nursemaid said, "What possesses you? You like your mischief, but you are a more reasonable girl than this—usually. Now,"

she straightened the covers over Douglas' back, "we are going to the great hall. Walk proud. Ye do no' want your father's people thinking the marriage he arranged is a bad one."

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Cerdwin straightened and looked Airin in the eye. "If your father does not live, these people will be Deryll's
and
yours.

Do ye plan on failing them?"

"I know my duty," Airin replied stiffly.

"Good. Dinna forget it now, or when Sir Deryll closes the door to your bedchamber."

* * * *

Deryll wasted no time in filling her glass and making a toast to the bride. Both her father's and Deryll's men drained their glasses, then drank to their continued marriage, future children and wedding night. Deryll refilled her glass with each salute.

When he reached for the mead a fourth time, she looked at him and said, "If you want a conscious bride, stop filling me with liquor."

He paused, the jar poised over her glass, and grinned.

"You cannot handle your liquor, wife?"

She hiccupped. "I am half your weight."

"And I have drunk more than double your portion."

"'Tis you who will be unconscious."

He filled her glass. "Never fear, I will remain wide awake. I swear." He winked.

Airin blinked. Had the Scarlet Knight actually winked at her? She jammed her eyes shut and gave her head a hard shake. What sort of dream had she stumbled into? The kind 70

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where up was down and down was ... still not up. Her fingers unconsciously sought and found the chain that held the brooch around her neck. She should have taken that ride to the lock. If she had tossed the brooch in, mayhap the curse would have remained at the bottom of the loch with it. She reached for the wine. The room swayed, and she decided against the mead. What she needed was a respite. Airin shoved to her feet and the room went quiet.

"Is something amiss?" Deryll asked.

She glanced around the great hall. "Ask me tomorrow."

The room jumped to life with raucous laughter. Deryll grinned. "Do you need—"

She swayed and he grabbed her arm. She shook him off.

"I am going to my bedchamber."

"Our bedchamber," he corrected.

Airin thought for a moment. "We are going to sleep in my bedchamber?"

"Eventually," he replied.

She frowned. "I want to sleep now. I will do that. You do whatever you like."

"I would
like
to sleep with you."

Airin shook her head. "Nay." She turned.

Deryll pushed to his feet and threw her over his shoulder.

The room swam. Laughter rang around her as he strode toward the stairs, her stomach lurching with each long stride he took.

"Be-wa-re," she said, the word coming out in jerky syllables. "You may not like the consequences of shaking me."

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He pulled her into his arms so that he carried her. Airin buried her face in his chest. His shirt smelled of fresh soap.

He had been allowed at least a clean shirt. She nuzzled him.

His jaw brushed the top of her head and she realized he was looking at her. She tilted her head back and stared at him.

"Beware," he said, taking the stairs two at a time. "We may not get past the salon if you keep rubbing me in that fashion."

Airin frowned. "Rubbing you?" She looked at his chest and nuzzled him with her nose. He groaned. She looked up again.

"You mean that?"

"By God, Airin, you toy with me. Is this what I can expect?"

She sighed and rested her head on his chest. "You do have a warm chest and my cold is nose." She giggled. "My
nose
is cold."

They arrived at her room. Deryll opened the door, then stopped short. Airin looked up and saw Cerdwin lighting a candle on the bedside table. A fire crackled in the hearth, new sheets and fresh plaide covered the bed, and rose petals littered the blanket.

"Cerdwin,'tis beautiful." Airin shoved at Deryll and he set her feet on the floor. She started forward, swayed, but righted herself and continued to the maid's side. Airin hugged her. "You should not tax yourself so."

"I have waited twenty years for this day," Cerdwin said. "I will do as I please." She looked at Deryll. "Sir Deryll, a moment."

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He bowed, then backed from the room, closing the door behind him.

"Now," the maid said, "make haste. We canna' keep your new husband waiting. Get out of that dress and into this shift." She turned Airin around, then grasped her skirt and tugged it over her head. She tossed the dress on the bed, then pulled the chemise over her head. The brooch hung between Airin's breasts as if a last piece of armor. Cerdwin ran a critical eye down her body. "When was the last time ye bathed?"

Airin wrinkled her nose. "I do not smell."

"Nay," Cerdwin agreed, "but you do have some grime."

She hurried to the table beside the wardrobe where a bowl and pitcher of water sat alongside fresh washcloths. She dipped a cloth in water. "Now," she wrung out the cloth, then turned back to Airin, "just a little on your face and arms."

Airin complied and closed her eyes while Cerdwin cleaned her face, then arms. The maid tossed the cloth aside and slipped the shift over Airin's head. She tugged Airin to her feet and the fabric fell to her calves.