SINS of the Rex Book 2

by Emma Slate

  “It’s the best theory we’ve got. I’m going to call someone who knows or has the resources to flesh this theory out.”

  “Who?”

  “My old boss. The head of the history department at Columbia.”

  “Brilliant. There’s more, though.”

  “Tell me,” I said quickly, my mind waking up.

  “Edward Roenhenstart, member of the SINS, is related to someone you know.”

  I took a fast shower and then dressed in clean, warm clothes. Before heading downstairs, I checked on Flynn. He was sleeping, but Dr. Gerard informed me that Flynn had had a comfortable night. His fever had broken. I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders when I realized he was out of the woods. It would take him time to heal, but he would. That was the important thing.

  I sat down at the kitchen table but before I could make polite conversation, I was back out of the chair and running for a bathroom. After breakfast, I went upstairs to meet Brandon. He looked just like Moira with a thick head of brown curls and her hazel eyes. He was charming and affable and didn’t seem at all put out having to be laid up in bed and having his mother tend to him. He told me about his other siblings, Colleen and Molly, who lived nearby with their families.

  A snap of cold weather moved through Belfast and the usual rain turned to sleet. I asked Moira if there was a place to make some phone calls and she showed me to the den. It was a cozy room filled with books, comfortable sofas, and a wood-burning fireplace that James lit for me.

  I sat down in a chair near the fire and turned on the iPad. I opened up a blank email and quickly typed a letter to my old boss who had a PhD in Scottish History. He was the only person I knew who could recite the Scottish monarchy line of succession. He had liked to bring that skill out at faculty parties. If he didn’t know about Charles Edward Stuart, the Count of Roehenstart, then he knew people who did.

  Hitting send, I let out a breath. My phone rang, and I had a brief but efficient conversation with Ash. We hung up and I felt strangely hopeful. Ash had everything under control both with Katherine and her friends and with Hawk. Lacey checked in with text and so did Sasha. I sent them back responses and updates about Flynn’s condition.

  At the moment, there was nothing else to do but wait. I left the den and went up to Flynn’s room, passing Dr. Gerard on the way. Flynn’s color was already looking better and his smile wasn’t marred with pain. His eyes were glassy.

  “Hi, love,” I greeted, kissing his mouth, expecting to smell liquor fumes.

  “Hen,” he said.

  “You haven’t been drinking for the pain, have you?”

  “No. But Doc gave me the good stuff.”

  “Morphine,” I guessed.

  “Morphine,” he repeated.

  I held in a giggle.

  “How are you feeling, love?” he asked as he pat his side of the bed. “You and the bairn?”

  I smiled and took a seat, taking his hand and placing it on my flat belly. “We’re fine. Don’t worry about us. Just get well.”

  “Aye.” His eyes drooped closed, and I took that as a sign to let him rest. I kissed him quickly, yearning for the night I could crawl into bed and sleep next to him.

  Chapter 53

  Duncan paced back and forth across the den floor, his face blustery and angry. “So you’re telling me,” he began, “that my hotheaded younger brother is in London looking for Arlington—and he took Jane Elliot with him—all because my wife decided to keep him in the loop?”

  “She made an executive decision. I wasn’t happy about it to begin with, but what else was she supposed to do? You and Flynn were AWOL and she and I were stuck in the penthouse in New York, ringing our hands like simpering, useless wives!” I snapped.

  “Fine,” he groused. “I’ll make my peace with the fact that she interfered in SINS business—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I snapped. “You men and your damn dirty pride! Ash might have figured out the name of The Pretender, you giant arsehole!”

  Duncan took a step back, his face slackened in shock.

  “Get with the times, Duncan. Things are changing. There are women who want a free Scotland as much as men. And they should have the right to be a part of the SINS. What kind of leader are you going to be if you can’t listen to reason?”

  “I’m not the leader,” Duncan said, his voice losing all traces of anger. “Flynn is.”

  I shook my head. “No, he’s always been acting leader. The leadership should fall to you. It’s your right—by birth.”

  Duncan ran a hand across his stubbly jaw as he thought. “If you’re telling me to change with the times, it might do us good to really change things.”

  “How so?”

  “The SINS members, the men and the women, should be able to cast a vote for who they want as leader. It shouldn’t be handed to me just because my father and his father before him held the title.”

  He glared at me in sudden understanding. “That was your idea all along, wasn’t it? To get me to think that was my idea.”

  I smiled slowly. “Maybe. Do you want to be leader of the SINS?”

  “I never thought of not being leader,” he mused. “Not the question you asked, I know. Flynn really has a knack for it though. I’d just assume let him lead, and I’ll be his close second.”

  Would Hawk one day be leader? Would he want that? He’d grow up with a target on his back no matter what—unless Flynn gave up the SINS, and I wasn’t ever going to ask that of him. We chose, we would see it through, whatever that entailed.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked with a sigh. “More things you’re going to tell me that I’m not going to like?”

  “My face gave it away, huh?”

  “No. You just usually like to dump a bunch of shite at my feet. It’s your way.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “Edward Roehenstart. That name ring any bells?”

  Duncan frowned. “No. Should it?”

  “You know Barnabas? The old man who gave me a lamb?”

  “Aye, I know old Barney.”

  I nodded. “Barnabas’s grandson is Edward Roehenstart.” I went on to explain about the Count of Roehenstart being Bonnie Prince Charlie’s grandson. “Even though it’s documented that the count was married twice but had no children, I wondered if that could really be substantiated. I emailed to my old boss—the head of the history department at Columbia and a scholar on Scottish history—to see what he can tell me.”

  “And while we’re waiting on him, what do you suppose we do?”

  I grinned. “How do you feel about a trip to Dornoch?”

  Duncan and I sat in the kitchen glaring at one another. “No,” he stated.

  “Come on,” I taunted. “Afraid you’re going to lose?”

  “Aye. And I’m man enough to admit it.”

  I grinned. “Rock, paper, scissors. It’s the only fair way. Two out of three.”

  Brandon entered the kitchen, using a cane to favor his injured leg. “What’s going on in here?” he demanded when he saw what was about to occur.

  “Should you be up and moving?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  Duncan sighed. “We’re playing rock, paper, scissors. Loser has to tell Flynn we’re leaving him here to recover while we go to Dornoch.”

  “Dornoch isn’t safe,” Brandon said.

  “And we’re expecting a major, vocal disagreement. I still think Duncan should be the one to tell him. I’m pregnant. I can’t have excitement in my delicate condition.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Brandon asked in surprise. “Don’t you have a young—”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “I’m fertile. Everyone should get the hell over it!”

  “I guess we’ve entered the rational stage of pregnancy,” Duncan teased.

  “Just you wait,” I warned.

  Duncan blinked. “Is Ash—”

  “No, you goon,” I interrupted. “I’m saying this for when she is.”

  Brandon glanced
at Duncan. “What are you doing wrong?”

  “It’s not lack for trying, believe me.”

  “Yeah, if that’s all it took,” I muttered. “Come on, let’s do this. Two out of three.”

  Duncan lost three out of three. I grinned broadly, good mood suddenly restored. It didn’t matter that I’d already thrown up twice that day. I moonwalked across the kitchen floor, rubbing it in Duncan’s face, being a completely terrible sport about it and loving it.

  “I don’t know everything well enough,” he voiced. “I can’t keep up with your big brain.”

  “Flattery won’t get you out of this. Good luck telling my husband we have plans to enter the lion’s den.”

  Duncan cursed. His phone rang and he was only too glad to answer it. “Ramsey! I should murder you the next time I see you.” He paused to listen, his eyes widening. “You’re not.”

  “He’s not ‘what’?” Brandon whispered to me. I shrugged, just as lost.

  “Aye, I’ll come.” He hung up and looked at me. “Guess who just landed in Belfast?”

  “Ramsey? Really?” I asked.

  “Aye, and one Miss Jane Elliot.”

  “Hot damn,” I breathed.

  “Who’s Jane Elliot?” Brandon asked, attempting to move a heavy wood chair with one hand so he could take a seat. Duncan helped him with the chair, but otherwise let Brandon sink into it himself.

  “Who is Jane Elliot,” Duncan repeated. “A damn fine question.”

  “One with many answers,” I added with a grin. I liked Jane. The young woman had spunk and despite her initial introduction into our lives, she hadn’t shown fear. I admired and respected her. I couldn’t wait to see her—and find out how she felt about Ramsey. Ash would kill me if I didn’t discover something good and worth passing along.

  “Just another thing to tell Flynn, I guess,” Duncan said.

  I nodded. “It also means we should postpone our trip to Dornoch. At least for a few days. Then we can take Ramsey with us.”

  “The Buchanan hothead. Aye. Good plan.”

  I rolled my eyes at Duncan’s droll tone. “Or maybe I should just leave you Buchanans here.”

  “Go alone?” he asked, jaw agape. “Think again. If anyone’s going to Dornoch alone, it’s me.”

  “First of all,” I stated. “Barnabas gave me the lamb. I think if anyone has a chance of getting information out of him it will be me.”

  “Fair point. Go on,” Duncan allowed. Brandon choked on his laughter. “But I want to go with you.”

  “You’re a wanted man at the moment,” I said. “What happens when you step foot on Scottish soil? Hmm? You’re basically an outlaw.”

  “There’s no way you can go to Dornoch without backup. And what about Hawk? I won’t let you endanger your life and potentially leave him motherless. Not to mention, Flynn would murder me.”

  “You are a dramatic bunch,” Brandon said.

  I looked at Brandon. “Where are your parents?”

  “Taking their daily walk together,” Brandon answered.

  “Do you think it would bother them if we had a few more guests?”

  “Barrett,” Duncan warned. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking you miss your wife and I miss my baby. Lacey can keep an eye on Katherine and her friends. Daniel and Nathan can fly over with Ash and Hawk. Then I can take Nathan with me to Dornoch. Back up problem solved.”

  “Good Lord, is it always like this?” Brandon muttered. “I’m exhausted just listening to you coordinate!”

  “Darlin’,” I teased, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  Chapter 54

  Later that evening, I checked my email to see if Dr. Albright, my old boss, had gotten back to me. All I had was an automated ‘out of office’ response.

  “Damn,” I muttered.

  “Bad news?” Moira asked. It was just the two of us sitting in the den, the house quiet. Flynn and Brandon were asleep, and Duncan and James had gone to Belfast to fetch Jane and Ramsey.

  “Not bad news, not good either,” I said. “I was hoping to hear back from Dr. Albright, but he’s not readily available. I might have to call and harass him via phone.”

  “Guess you will,” Moira said.

  “He’s almost impossible to get on the phone. He turns his cell on silent and then loses it.”

  Moira laughed. “You’re painting the classic picture of an absent-minded professor.”

  “He is that. Brilliant but forgetful in everyday life.”

  “A lot of highly intelligent people are like that.”

  “Dr. Albright never wears matching socks—and he never notices.” I sighed. “You and James really don’t mind about having more house guests?”

  “Of course not. I’m just glad I get to meet your son.”

  I smiled. In a few days, I’d get to hold Hawk. Then we would have our family back together. Our expanding family, I mused.

  “You look dreamy,” Moira teased.

  My hand went to my belly.

  “Ah. Thought so.”

  “Can I ask you something? Personal?” She nodded and I went on, “How do you cope with James and Brandon being part of… what they’re a part of?”

  “It’s not easy. That’s for sure. But James isn’t as active anymore. He sort of mellowed with age. And after his treatment of Caitlin, the whole thing kind of soured him.”

  “Was Caitlin political?”

  “Not really. She accepted that Gavin was a part of the SINS, but she never had the drive to join his cause. She loved Gavin fiercely and that came first. Always. And then of course Flynn came along and that only made her love stronger. No. She didn’t care about politics.”

  “You speak as though you knew her well.”

  “I did. She was my best friend. I even spoke to her after her family shunned her. That surprises you,” Moira said.

  “I guess I just assumed—”

  “I never agreed with how the family treated Caitlin. James knew, of course, that I kept in contact with her. I sometimes volunteered information about her and her life, but he never asked. Not until recently.”

  I smiled sadly. “In his older years when people start thinking about all their great regrets?”

  She chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “It’s tragic,” I said. “How much time we all waste.”

  “Don’t waste yours,” she warned. “It’s easy to forget how fast time goes by.”

  I stood and went to hug her. “I’m so glad to have met you, Moira.”

  She smiled. “Sleep well, a leanbh mo chroí.”

  The next morning, I was awake before most of the house. I’d been asleep by the time Duncan had gotten back with Ramsey and Jane, so I hadn’t seen them yet.

  Tip-toeing down the stairs, I made sure I was quiet. I was startled to see James already in the kitchen, awake with a cup of coffee in his hands.

  “Morning,” he greeted.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Sleep okay?”

  I nodded. “Is there going to be enough room—for all of us?”

  James grinned. “We have a barn. Perhaps we can make the Buchanan boys sleep there.”

  I let out a soft chuckle and poured myself half a cup of coffee before sitting down. “I can move into Flynn’s room. Hawk will bunk with us. Ash will sleep with Duncan but where does that leave Jane and Ramsey?”

  “There are two double beds in Brandon’s room. Ramsey slept there. Jane is asleep on the couch.” He smiled. “This isn’t crowded. When Brandon’s sisters come to visit and they bring their husbands and children, we make do. We’ll make do when Ash and Hawk arrive. We’ll just have to do some shuffling.”

  “I guess now is the time I should mention Ash is bringing Daniel and Nathan—our bodyguards.”

  “Okay, will have to do a lot of shuffling.” He grinned and took a sip of his coffee.

  “What have you got there,” I asked, gesturing to what looked like a leather-bound photo album.

/>   “Family photos,” James said slowly. “Mostly of Caitlin when she was younger. Before she…”

  I nodded in understanding. It was a shame that Flynn had lost so many years with his uncle. Then again, it hadn’t been the first time in history that pride had come between families.

  “May I?” I asked, gesturing to the photo album.

  James pushed it towards me. I began to sift through the photos of the Kilmartin family. Caitlin’s smile was radiant in every photo, her cobalt blue eyes sparkling with a devilish secret. I saw where Flynn had gotten that unique trait. She had dark hair and fair skin, Black Irish, people called it. As I watched her grow older on film, I noticed her transformation from slender, cute girl to striking, beautiful woman.

  “How did they meet?” I asked. “Gavin and Caitlin?”

  “A pub in Dublin. Caitlin and Moira were best friends back then, and they were off one of their adventures.”

  “Weren’t supposed to be in Dublin, I take it?” I asked with a smile.

  James shrugged, nostalgia painting his smile. “They were eighteen. Fearless. Lad-crazy. They went to Dublin and from the moment Caitlin walked into the pub, Gavin couldn’t take his eyes off her. She ran away with him that night.”

  I blinked. “You’re kidding?”

  “No. She went with him to Scotland, married him, brought him home to meet us and my parents lost their minds.”

  “Well, sure. Eighteen, married to a man she hardly knew who wasn’t Irish. I can see that being a source of struggle.”

  James shook his head. “The thing is, Caitlin did know him. She was an extremely good judge of character, even when she was a young lass. But did my parents remember that? Did I remember that? No. All I saw was a twenty-two-year-old quiet Scotsman who’d taken my baby sister away from us. Never mind that it had been Caitlin’s choice.”

  “They were so young,” I murmured.

  “And Flynn came along pretty soon after. My parents always expected Caitlin to realize she’d made a mistake, and we’d find her one day on our porch step, holding Flynn and telling us she was ready to come home.”