The Thief's Angel: a bad-boy, enemies-to-lovers medieval romance (The Highland Angels Book 3)

by Caroline Lee

  Slowly, he lifted his head. “Aye,” he admitted.

  “I imagine Rosalind Forbes kens ye better than I do right now, brother,” Lachlan began earnestly. “And she does have a brilliant mind, and Mellie trusts her implicitly. If Rosa kens ye to be a good man, then she trusts ye as well.”

  As Cam just stared, Lachlan shook his head with a small smile. “And if Rosa trusts ye, then ye can tell her how ye feel. Like as no’, she feels the same way.”

  Was that possible?

  Cam straightened, his gaze on the far wall.

  Was it possible that somehow, someway, Rosa felt the same for him?

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Lachlan said quietly.

  But he’d stormed out. He’d left her in his anger.

  She’d told him some of her secrets, and aye, he’d been bitter she’d only been investigating him…but the sorrow in her dark eyes told him it had become something more.

  Something special?

  He reached for the ale and downed it as his brother chuckled.

  “Aye, love makes us feel that way. Donae run off yet though, brother.” Lachlan gestured to the pitcher again. “Tell me of yer adventure. Tell me more of our years apart.”

  With a sigh, Cam took the coward’s way out.

  He’d stay. He’d get to know his brother again. And once he’d had time to think more on his feelings, he’d find Rosa.

  “Aye, Laird,” he teased, reaching for the pitcher. “But only if ye tell me about Simone.”

  As Lachlan stood, he was smiling. “My favorite topic!”

  But instead of speaking, he crossed the room and stood before a trunk. After rummaging inside, he pulled out a folded tartan.

  A Fraser plaid.

  When he held it out in offer, his expression was hesitant. “I was reminded when ye called me laird. I didnae want this position, but I am determined to make our people’s future a peaceful one.” He dropped his gaze to the wool between them. “I donae ken yer plans for the future, but I want ye to ken ye’ll always be my brother.”

  A Fraser.

  A place at An Torr.

  Assuming he wasn’t executed as a traitor.

  Hesitantly, Cam stood and stepped toward his brother. Lachlan held the plaid out further.

  And Cam took it. “Thank ye, brother.”

  Whatever the future might hold, he’d face it as a Fraser.

  Chapter 11

  Rosa’s eyes ached from weeping, which was daft.

  Weeping never fixed anything, and only made her feel worse. Her father had always told her logic was the only way to solve problems…but Mother had once confessed sometimes tears helped.

  Not today though.

  Today, no matter how long she sat there in Isla’s chambers and cried, Rosa couldn’t erase the memory of Cam’s hurt, the way he’d looked so betrayed when she’d confessed the truth.

  Then he’d stormed off, and now she was worried about him. Worried, despite knowing his skill as a thief, and his ability to navigate the palace.

  Still, that didn’t stop her from peering into corners and niches as she dragged her feet to Charlotte’s solar, hoping she wouldn’t see him hiding. Hoping he’d made it safely out into the city.

  As she reached the Angel leader’s room, she took a deep breath. Her eyes ached, aye, and rubbing at them hadn’t helped. But it was time to issue her report, and she guessed her teammates would be inside at this time of morning, since Liam and his men would be guarding the Queen.

  She was right.

  As soon as she pushed open the door, Mellie looked up from where she lounged in front of the cold hearth.

  “Rosa?” the buxom Angel asked, pushing herself upright. “What’s wrong?”

  Leave it to Mellie to notice things few others would. Court—who stood in front of the window with her omnipresent bow—probably had noted Rosa’s puffy eyes, but would never think to mention them. Mellie, on the other hand, was the heart of their team, and the idea of losing her when she married Lachlan made Rosa feel weepy all over again.

  Nay. Weeping hadn’t solved anything before, and it wouldn’t now.

  Besides, there was no way to describe what Cam had come to mean to her, was there?

  So she forced a smile. “I will be aright.”

  Mellie didn’t look convinced, but Court gave her a hard, quick nod.

  Charlotte, who was bent over her desk and cradling her infant son against her breast with her left hand, barely glanced up. “ ’Tis glad I am ye’re finally back, Rosa. We’ve needed yer mind.”

  Pushing down her sorrow and guilt, Rosa straightened her shoulders. It was time to do what she did best. What she could still do.

  She was an Angel.

  “What do ye need?”

  With a sigh, Charlotte tossed down her stylus and sat back in her chair, shifting wee Roger slightly. “We cannae find Cameron Fraser anywhere in Scone.”

  “And believe me,” Court cut in flatly, “we’ve looked.”

  Rosa knew how much finding Cam meant to Court, now that her fellow Angel knew the truth of Cam’s actions when he’d sent her away. And now that she knew Cam, she knew how important it was to him to find Courtney.

  But before Rosa could tell Court all this—explain why they hadn’t been able to find Cam in the city—Charlotte was growling again.

  “And there’s been another attack against the King. He’s coming back to Scone to get to the bottom of this, which means we’ll have to give up control of the investigation if I donae get some leads fast.”

  Rosa’s stomach churned, torn between guilt and loyalty. “Another attack?” she asked weakly. “What are the details? Any connection to the first one?”

  Charlotte detached her son from her breast and lifted him to one shoulder to burp. “There.” She nodded to a scroll atop the chaotic parchments on her desk. “The details are there.” She patted the bairn’s back. “Read it and tell me what ye think. Can we connect it to the Red Hand?”

  And just like that, her old worries came crashing back.

  Read it.

  Her steps hesitant, she crossed to the desk and picked up the scroll. “Were there witnesses? Did the assassin claim to be from the Red Hand again?”

  Charlotte frowned and looked ready to respond, just as Roger let out a magnificent burp, and she became distracted. “Who’s Mama’s brave little warrior, eh? Ye are, aye, ye are!”

  Court rolled her eyes and Mellie smiled, and Rosa realized there was nothing she could do but read the infernal letter.

  Except…she couldn’t.

  After unrolling the parchment, the words were just as blurry as any other. She straightened her elbows, hoping that by holding the words farther away, she could make out what they said, but no luck.

  “Rosa?” When she turned her attention to Mellie, her friend was looking at her with pity. “Ye cannae see the words, can ye?” she asked softly.

  Rosa’s shoulders slumped with defeat. “How long have ye kenned it?” Mellie was by far the most caring and observant of their group. If anyone was going to notice Rosa’s vision problems, it would be her.

  Her…and Cam.

  But Mellie has known her for five years, and Cam only a few days.

  Yet Cam still knew her just as well.

  “I’ve wondered a few times,” Mellie confessed, crossing the room to wrap Rosa in a hug. “Ye’ve been trying to keep it from us, have ye no’?”

  Rosa didn’t have time to respond.

  “What’s this?” Charlotte barked, as she stood with the bairn against her shoulder. “Ye cannae see?”

  With a sigh, Rosa slid from her friend’s embrace to face their leader. Mellie stood beside her, one arm around her shoulders in support.

  “I cannae read,” Rosa said simply, tossing the scroll onto the desk. “I ken how valuable ye think me to the team, so I’ve been hiding the fact my vision is failing.”

  Court looked slightly horrified, and Charlotte was still frowning. “Ye cannae see?”<
br />
  “I cannae see up close,” Rosa corrected. “I can see ye all fine, but words are all blurry.”

  Mellie’s hold tightened. “I’m so sorry, Rosa.”

  And damnation, but Rosa felt tears prick at her eyes in response to her friend’s sympathy. “Thank ye,” she choked, leaning into Mellie’s embrace.

  It was Court who cleared her throat. “If ye cannae read…”

  “Aye,” Rosa said with a quick nod. “I am useless to the team.”

  Mellie gasped a negative, but Charlotte snorted. When they both looked at her, the older woman was rolling her eyes. “Ye’re no’ useless, Rosa.”

  Straightening once more, Rosa pushed her shoulders back. “I ken why I was made an Angel, Charlotte. I am the youngest, the most sheltered. I cannae handle a weapon as well as Court, and I donae understand people the way Mellie does. I am an Angel because of my mind.”

  “Aye, and yer mind is still as sharp as always, right?” When Charlotte lifted one shoulder, the bairn started to fuss. “No’ now, love, Mama has work to do.”

  With a short chuckle, Mellie pulled away from Rosa and hurried to the other side of the desk. “Come here, wee warrior, and tell Auntie Melisandre all about it.” She took the bairn from Charlotte, who seemed happy to let him go. “Let yer mama explain to Rosa why she’s still a valuable member of this team.”

  Charlotte nodded sharply as she sank down into her chair. “Aye, Rosa. Yer mind is still just as sharp, even if yer eyes arenae. We’ll just have someone read to ye.”

  Read to ye.

  The memory of Cam’s soothing voice, reading from Lanval there beside the loch, rose up in Rosa. The warmth from that moment spread throughout her chest now, giving her strength.

  She met Charlotte’s eyes and saw nothing but certainty and trust there.

  Yer mind is still sharp.

  Aye, that was the truth. It was still sharp…when memories of Cam and feelings of guilt weren’t distracting it.

  With a tsk, Charlotte snatched up the scroll. “Here.” She opened it, her eyes scanning the words. “The King was resting with his advisors on Arran when an assassin burst in on them. He was killed before he could get close, and before he could be questioned.” She skipped ahead. “He was dressed rudely, with a pockmarked face. Nothing in here seems to tie him to the attempt a fortnight ago. Um… Oh, here ‘tis. The Bruce suspects the accidents which have befallen his group in recent weeks might be connected, but doesnae describe them more than a reference to a bridge giving way before he reached it.”

  She allowed the parchment to roll back up as she looked at Rosa expectantly. “Well?”

  It was the trust in her expression which warmed Rosa more than anything else, and her mind was already whirling.

  She hummed as she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling—only, she wasn’t really seeing it. “The assassin didnae look like a noble or a merchant, so the bandit theory seems likely. Without proof, there’s naught to tie him to the previous attempt. I’d like to hear details of both before I draw conclusions. The accidents are impossible to determine, this far removed. If I could examine the sites, mayhap…”

  “See?” Charlotte tossed the scroll to her messy desktop with a chuckle, which quickly turned into a sigh. “I kenned ye were still a valuable member of this team. But without certainty, this new information does naught for us. The King will still be returning, and we will have to turn the investigation over to his men.”

  “Aye, and we’ll have scores of new suspects to worry about,” Court grumbled from her place in the corner.

  Mellie was bouncing the bairn. “What do ye mean?”

  The curt woman looked surprised at the question. “Only that the nobility are already arriving, have ye no’ noticed? The Queen’s schedule is busier, with all the requested audiences. With the King back at Scone, everyone wants to be here for the festivities.”

  Charlotte muttered a curse as she slumped in her chair. “Which makes our job harder.”

  “Why?” Mellie asked.

  The tangled threads in Rosa’s mind were weaving together, and she held her breath while an idea formed.

  “Because…” she whispered. “Because, if there is a scheme against the Crown, ‘tis either the work of a single, crazed, or disgruntled person…or a conspiracy involving multiple nobles. If a person—a leader—wanted to remove Robert as the king, that person would need the support of the nobility, the lords with the most power.”

  “And soon we’ll have scores of them staying right here in the palace,” Charlotte grumbled.

  The curse Mellie whispered wasn’t suitable for the bairn’s ears, so it was good he’d fallen asleep.

  “So we need to find Cam and put an end to this before the King returns,” Court said in a flat voice.

  Rosa winced, knowing it still hurt Court to think the man who’d raised her might be guilty of this. She opened her mouth to tell her friend he wasn’t, but realized she didn’t know how to start her confession.

  Charlotte interrupted her thoughts. “If we could just figure out what in damnation the plot against the Bruce was for. Why would someone—Comyn supporter or no’—want to remove the King? ‘Tis no’ as if Red Comyn or his son is still alive to take his place. Is there a cousin somewhere we donae ken about? A nephew?”

  This was it. This was the moment Rosa had been dreading.

  Moments ago, Charlotte had proved her worries completely unfounded. Her dear friend had heard of Rosa’s incapacity, and still told her she was valuable.

  Charlotte valued her mind and her insights.

  She’d value what Rosa had learned as well.

  So why did speaking the truth feel like such a betrayal?

  Rosa took a deep breath. “No’ a cousin, nor a nephew. But a son. An illegitimate son, but a son all the same.”

  “Of course,” Charlotte whispered. “If there’s a proven son of Red Comyn—some sort of proof—then the dissatisfied nobles would flock to him. Especially the ones who supported the Comyn in the first place—they’d leap at the chance to put a Comyn son on the throne.”

  Ever the impatient one, Court snapped, “Who?”

  And Rosa, wincing at how it would sound, turned to her friend with sorrow in her tone. “Cam.”

  “Nay,” Court whispered, eyes wide, at the same time Charlotte slapped her desk triumphantly.

  “Aye!” their leader crowed. “Now we have him! This quandary is starting to make sense. Cameron Fraser, leader of the Red Hand, son of a would-be-king. He has the connections, the support, and the motive to—”

  “Nay!” Rosa interrupted, before she could think better. “He’s a good man. He—”

  It wasn’t until all three of her friends turned incredulous eyes on her, that she realized what she’d said, what she’d revealed. Sucking in a sharp breath, she whirled to look out the window, hoping to calm her mind.

  It didn’t work.

  From Charlotte’s solar, she could see the Queen’s garden, where she’d shown Cam the secret entrance the Angels had used for years.

  Who had she betrayed?

  Her loyalty to the Crown?

  Or loyalty to her own heart?

  “Rosalind,” Charlotte began in a low voice, “tell me everything.”

  She had to.

  She owed it to the Angels.

  But mayhap not everything.

  “Cam was at An Torr,” she began dully. “I didnae realize it until we were a day on the road, and he caught up with us.”

  “Mellie?” Charlotte snapped.

  Mellie was trying to soothe the bairn, who’d woken at his mother’s angry tone. “I didnae ken,” she offered helplessly. “Simone arrived here too late last night for me to have seen her, and I’ve been with ye all morning.”

  Charlotte muttered something under her breath. Then, “Go on, Rosa.”

  Taking a deep breath, Rosa did. “He traveled with us. I learned about him. I learned from him.” She remembered the warm sound of his voice as he rea
d to her and closed her eyes on the guilt which threatened to overwhelm her. “I ken I thought he was the guilty one. For all the reasons ye list, Charlotte. But…” She shook her head.

  “Oh, nay,” Mellie breathed.

  At the fear in her friend’s voice, Rosa whirled around to see all three of them looking at her in shock.

  Mellie patted the bairn’s back. “Ye fell in love with him, did ye no’?” she whispered.

  And Rosa couldn’t even pretend not to understand.

  “Aye,” she whispered, dropping her chin in shame.

  “Shite,” Charlotte muttered, throwing herself back in her chair. “No’ another one. I thought ye were the logical one, Rosa!”

  I did as well.

  When Court slammed the end of her bow into the wooden floor, all of them jumped.

  “This is good news,” she declared, glaring at all of them. “Cam is a good man; I’ve said it all along. He has the motive and the method, aye, but that does no’ make him guilty.” She met Rosa’s gaze fiercely and held it. “Tell me how ye ken it, Rosa.”

  It was her support which gave Rosa the courage she needed. Straightening her shoulders, she nodded to her friend. When she began to speak, to tell Court of her journey with Cam—how well they worked together, how charming he was, how good he was with Simone, how unsure he was of his own worth—she felt as if she were speaking only to her friend.

  It was Cam’s hesitation, more than anything, which had convinced her of his honor. He’d spoken of his years leading the Red Hand—years she’d already known about, thanks to Court’s stories—but didn’t seem to understand how incredible it was that he led those men with honor. He’d focused on his failings and what he saw as his lack of worth, while all along showing her how worthy he really was.

  He was kind, and thoughtful, and intelligent. Aye, he was a thief, but he was so much more than that.

  “He’s a good man,” she finished, ending with her leaving him in the city to return Simone last night.

  Court was nodding, but Mellie was watching Rosa speculatively, the look in her eyes conveying, despite Rosa leaving out the bits about the kisses and the way they made her feel, Mellie had guessed.