Page 11 of Kilty Until Proven Innocent
Actually…his subconscious was right.
Dinnae sound so surprised.
“Thank ye,” he said quietly, lifting the bolt once more to study. “If I can trace this to its origin, I might be able to save my neck.”
“Yer neck?”
He glanced up to see her watching him in the reflection of the expensive glass window. “I ken I’m the main suspect in the attempted assassination, and I understand why.” He kept his voice low, his tone even. “But I didnae do it, and it’s been killing me that there’s an assassin loose and I am nae longer trusted to protect His Majesty.”
Green eyes held his in reflection for a long moment before she finally dropped her chin in acknowledgement and looked away.
She hadn’t said she believed him.
But she hadn’t condemned him either, not like the guards had during sparring.
Drummond’s fingers curled around the bolt, and he had a swift realization: He needed to prove his innocence to the King, aye, to save his name and his honor. But he wanted to prove himself toBrigitjust as much.
She cleared her throat and he glanced over to see her pretending interest in the tapestry of the crest above the hearth.
She tilted her head. “So, how…how will ye use it to investigate?”
“I dinnae ken,” he murmured, twirling it in his fingers. “It bears nae obvious markings noting its maker. But there are a limited number of smiths in the capitol who could make such a weapon. Perhaps, if I were to take it to each of them—”
“We.” She spun about and his eyebrows rose in surprise. She gentled her tone. “I’m coming with ye.”
Och, of course. She’d likelyborrowedthe bolt and needed to be reassured it would be returned. She did not trust him.
But he was startled to discover he didn’t feel disappointment at the realization. Or rather, he did, but ‘twas tempered with a quiet sort of happiness. Drum took a moment to examine the reason and decided ‘twas because she hadn’t given up on him. She insisted on investigatingwithhim, and he could not deny he liked the idea.
So he nodded.
“I…would like that verra much, lass.”
She took a step closer, her green eyes hesitant, somehow. “Ye dinnae mind?”
“Nay, no’ at all. Ye might have some insights I dinnae have.”
“Like…” Another step and her tongue swiped across her lower lip. “Where to look?”
Drummond’s breath caught in his chest. “Could ye show mewherethis was found, Brigit?” God’s Wounds, he hated to sound as if he was begging. “I could no’ find any information about it, but if I could see the place in the corridor where the ambush tookplace, see where the crossbow had been set up, it might reveal a clue.”
She halted, only an arm’s reach from him, and cocked her head, studying him. “Ye…really dinnae ken? Where it happened?”
Blowing out a breath, he dragged his hand through his hair. “I dinnae kenaught, and ‘tis frustrating as hell!”
Her hand closed around his, which held the bolt, and her serious green gaze met his.
“Come with me.”
And then she was tugging him out into the corridor. Drummond’s heart sped up in a ridiculous way and he twisted her hold so their fingers twined together, the crossbow bolt pressed against their palms.
She glanced down once, then up at him, the faintest touch of a grin on her lips.
It wasn’t her usual smile, but it felt more…real.
“Thank ye, Brigit,” he rasped, and her smile grew slightly before she tucked her chin down as if embarrassed.
He didn’t have time to consider her strange reaction. All he knew was, for the first time in a sennight, he hadhope.
