CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HOT BLOOD SPURTED over Claire’s hand. Malcolm wrestled her away from the woman.
Claire saw that she had missed Sibylla’s heart, but she had stabbed her deeply in her chest. Sibylla reeled, turning pale, and then fury turned her eyes red.
Malcolm pushed Claire against the window seat and seized the dagger, wrenching it from Sibylla’s chest.
“Finish her!” Claire screamed.
But chaos erupted in the gallery before Malcolm could do as she wanted.
Sibylla pushed past him, apparently intending to run, but the passing noblemen blocked her way and she collapsed against one man.
Claire heard footsteps pounding as heated exclamations and accusations began.
Suddenly Royce shoved into their midst, seizing Malcolm’s arm.
Just as she began to realize what she had done—and what it might mean—she was seized from behind.
She struggled to get free of her captor and Aidan hissed, “Fool!” Instantly she went still, realizing he had grabbed her.
Panting, Claire saw Malcolm and Royce exchange looks as Malcolm dropped the bloody blade.
The two royal guards appeared, ordering everyone aside, marching up to Malcolm and Royce.
And in that moment Claire finally understood she had made a terrible mistake.
“Let me go,” she told Aidan, wondering what was going to happen to her now.
She was pretty certain one could not stab a royal guest in the heat of the moment, even if that guest was a demon.
Her gaze met Malcolm’s. He was furious and she heard him as clear as day, even though he did not speak aloud. Ye gave me your word.
“I am sorry,” Claire whispered.
Aidan jerked on her.
Dinna speak another word!
“What happened here?” a guard demanded as the royal steward who had first ushered them into the hall appeared.
“Lady Sibylla has been attacked,” someone said.
Claire began to shake. Before she could confess to her crimes, Blackwood strode through the assembled crowd, his expression ruthless. He took one look at Sibylla and paled. For Claire, his look spoke volumes. He did not hate his possessed sister at all.
Sibylla cried out as Blackwood went to her, taking her into his arms. She was pale and bleeding heavily. Spittle ran from her mouth. Most of the bodice of her red dress was soaked with her blood. She looked at Claire with vicious hatred.
Sibylla wanted to kill her, Claire thought, her heart lurching at the murderous look in the other woman’s eyes.
“I’ll take care o’ her,” Blackwood said, lifting her into his arms.
Claire wanted to scream at him to finish the job. She was pretty certain he was going to get Sibylla medical attention, instead. He strode away, his sister finally fainting.
Malcolm picked up the dagger and looked at the steward. “Here’s the weapon that may have murdered Lady Sibylla,” he said grimly. “I admit to the crime.”
“Arrest him,” the steward snapped.
Claire cried out in horror. He would protect her this way? But as she began to protest, Aidan’s grasp on her became a tight, even cruel embrace. “Dinna speak,” he hissed at her as the guards seized Malcolm.
“My nephew lies,” Royce said calmly. “I have marked Sibylla fer the grave long ago. He thinks to protect me. I stabbed her.”
Claire gasped, her knees turning weak and useless. Royce’s actions were incredibly selfless, but selfishly she prayed he would be the one arrested now.
Malcolm turned a black look on Royce. “He thinks to protect me. Sibylla has declared war on me an’ mine. The deadly deed was done by my own hand.”
Everyone began to talk at once, in the excited tones of a crowd mesmerized by high drama.
“It was me,” Claire cried.
But in the frenzy of gossip and speculation, no one seemed to hear. Aidan jerked on her, literally dragging her from the hall. “Let me go,” Claire began furiously.
“Arrest them both,” the steward ordered, “until this matter can be decided by the king.”
Claire was disbelieving. “It was me,” she shouted loudly. “Damn it!” Looking over her shoulder, she saw that no one heard or cared to hear.
Malcolm was set on taking the fall for her.
I am sorry!
Dinna worry. I will be fine.
What will they do to you?
He did not answer her and Claire saw the guards strip him of his sword and dagger as Aidan pulled her from the hall. She found herself outside in the bailey, so sickened in her heart she was nauseated. She had lost all control—and now, Malcolm might pay a terrible price for what she had done.
Aidan let her go. “What will they do to him?” she cried.
“Could ye nay hold yer temper? Ye canna murder a lady in cold blood in front o’ witnesses!” Aidan exclaimed.
Claire hugged herself, choking on her fear. She had wanted to kill Sibylla; now she was afraid she would die.
Aidan was lurking, because he said, “Blackwood will have her healed.”
It was a double-edged sword. “So Sibylla will live to do her evil another day.”
Aidan’s eyes darkened. “Ye ferget she’s as human as ye, Claire. He’ll take her to Iona fer an exorcism.”
And suddenly her bitterness faded as she understood. “He wants to exorcize the demon.”
“She be Blackwood’s sister. She deserves a chance to live again. And he deserves the chance to try to free his sister’s soul.”
Claire could only stare. Sanity finally returned.
She had wanted Sibylla to die. She had been entirely consumed with murdering her enemy, so much so that she hadn’t thought once about the fact that Sibylla was a human being.
Once, she had been as normal as Claire. She began to shake, ashamed of her own violent behavior.
“And what if the exorcism fails?”
Aidan said coldly, “Blackwood will kill her.”
She inhaled, shaken all over again. Everything was spinning wildly out of control. She could no longer think—or care—about Sibylla’s fate. “I have to go back inside and tell the truth,” she pleaded. “I can’t let Malcolm be punished for what I did—or Royce, for that matter.”
“’Tis what a man does fer his woman,” Aidan said grimly. “An’ it be far too late fer regrets.”
“They can leap,” Claire finally said. “Thank God they can leap to escape if they have to!”
“If they leap they will be outlaws, an’ they will never be able to come back to this time.”
Another thought occurred. “Let’s leap back in time—back to Awe before Malcolm left! Now that we know what will happen, we can convince Malcolm to leave Sibylla alone.”
Aidan shook his head. “’Tis nay allowed. A Master canna go back to the past an’ change it fer his own whim.”
“You follow the rules now?” she cried furiously.
He gave her a look. “No god would allow the Code to be broken like ye wish, Claire.”
Claire gave up, for she didn’t understand that. “Then what are we going to do?”
“I’ll do what needs to be done, Claire. Ye’ll do nothing. Yer in my care now, until Malcolm be released. In fact, I’m takin’ ye far from the court, as there be nothin’ here fer ye.”
“Malcolm is here—locked up and awaiting a verdict for what I have done. I am not leaving court without him.” She had never meant her words more.
He stared.
“I am desperate, Aidan,” Claire admitted, resorting to any feminine wiles she had left. She let tears fill her eyes—genuine tears of fear for Malcolm. “I love him and I have to stand by him, just as he has stood by me.”
Aidan softened. “I ken ye love him deeply. I dinna think he’ll be imprisoned fer too long. He’ll probably pay a high price in coin and lands fer the assault. Very well. I’ll find us rooms until he be released. But,” he said fiercely, “ye’ll do nothing to make matters worse.”
Claire quickly nodded. “Agreed.”
“Ye will obey me, Claire,” he added.
Although she wasn’t sure she meant it, she nodded again. “Okay.”
Then she saw Moray, staring at them from steps leading to the hall.
Divide and conquer, she thought, her insides lurching with sick dread.
MALCOLM TENSED. Claire was looking for him, filled with desperation.
He could sense her racing through the palace corridors, lost and confused.
Alarm filled him. She should not be looking for him, as he was the king’s prisoner.
It was not safe for her to be searching for him now. Linlithgow was not safe.
Malcolm, where are you?
He had been lying on a thin pallet on the stone floor in his cell. He sat up. Claire, go back. Do not come!
But she did not answer him and he knew she hadn’t heard.
She was too afraid to hear him, he realized.
He heard her calling to him again.
Malcolm, help me find you!
Claire, there be guards. Go back to yer chamber, he ordered. But he knew she would not obey him, as she never did, and he was afraid for her.
He felt her despair intensify. He sensed she was lost in the maze of hallways. But he felt her presence. She was closer now. And then he heard her scream and he saw her standing in a dark, shadowed hall. She had come face-to-face with Moray.
Moray was smiling in evil anticipation.
No!
She was running. Malcolm encouraged her to run faster. Claire screamed again, so loudly she must have been outside the cell door, and he heard Moray’s laughter. Malcolm banged on the cell door, furious and desperate. He had to help her escape Moray!
And he knew Claire’s strength was failing her. She was sobbing, trying to run, but her legs had become oddly useless. He seized the door to wrest it from its hinges. And before he could do so, the door opened and Claire stood there.
He had never been happier to see anyone.
She cried out in relief, throwing her arms around him and holding him tightly.
He held her hard, unsure he could ever let her go, thanking the Ancients for sparing her life.
As he held her, his concern changed, and so much warmth began, not just in his loins, which swiftly hardened, but in his chest.
She smiled at him, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears.