The Seduction of Laird Sinclair

by Kara Griffin

  The sky darkened and night came quickly. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, but the thought of the cold night and animals that lurked in the woods frightened her. No one knew where she’d gone, or at least, that she’d gone off the lane. She wanted to berate herself for being foolish. Another hour passed and the night sounds came on as if on cue. The howl of a wolf and a hoot from an owl was close, too near for her to keep calm. Unease tightened her chest, but she tried not to panic.

  Someone shouted her name and a dog barked.

  “Callum, thank God. Over here,” she shouted and stood with her arms crossed beneath her breasts. She had to look silly in her torn gown.

  Callum sauntered closer and let Frang loose. The dog ran forward and barked madly. When Callum reached her, he stopped and peered at her as if he searched for a foe. “When Frang came back to the keep, he wouldn’t cease barking. I realized there was something wrong and I followed him.”

  “Good boy, Frang.”

  “Did you get lost? Come, we should return.” Callum held out his hand.

  “I cannot.”

  He approached, but she held out her hand for him to stop. “No, don’t come closer or you’ll get caught too.”

  “You’re caught in a thorn bush?” Callum bellowed with laughter.

  His humor was affecting and she laughed too. “I’m glad you find humor in my situation, but I am good and caught. The only way to free myself is to undress.”

  He raised a brow and assessed her situation. “I’m sorry, lass, it’s not humorous, is it? Well, I suppose we should get you undressed.” His eyes crinkled with mirth.

  She undid the ties of her gown and let it slide from her shoulders. Violet wiggled until the fabric lay around her over the prickly thorns. Callum held his arms out and lifted her over the high branches and pulled her free. Several thorns scratched her legs and she inhaled at the pain. He set her away from the bush and pulled the length of his tartan from his upper body.

  “You’re cold, lass. Let’s get you covered.” He set the tartan around her and pulled her forward.

  Violet hadn’t expected his kiss, but when his lips moved over hers, she responded as ardently. He broke the kiss and took her hand.

  “I cannot remember the last time I laughed so hard. Caught in a thorn bush,” he said and chuckled. “Let’s get you home.”

  His words pleased her. Home. It was for the time being and until Henry either sent for her or suggested another place to stay, Callum was hers as well.

  “Thank you for coming for me. I feared I would spend the night here in the woods.”

  “When you didn’t come for supper, I thought you were resting. Dela said she hadn’t seen you all day, and your maid said she last saw you early in the day. I remembered you said you’d garden with her. The gate watch told me you’d left hours ago for the village and hadn’t returned. Then Frang acted strangely, so I set out to find you.”

  Violet settled her arm around his waist and walked beside him. She was comforted that he was concerned for her. “Did you speak to Dela about Hawisa?”

  “Aye and my lass is frightened. I haven’t spoken to Hawisa yet, but I will. I’m displeased by my cousin’s treatment of my daughter. I’ve had Clive search for her all day, but Hawisa seems to have disappeared. No worries though, because I’ll deal with the woman when she is found.” Callum limped and slowed his pace.

  She tried to support him and held him around his waist. “I’m glad you believed me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Hawisa is your family…”

  Callum pulled her close by his side and they continued toward the keep at a slow pace. “Aye, she is. But family is not always trustworthy. I spent the morning with Dela. She speaks fondly of you. If you’ll… see to her care when I cannot? I’m often away from the keep and now that I’m the laird, I’ll be busy.”

  “I shall be glad to care for her while I’m here. She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure we’ll be good friends.” Violet was saddened to ponder her time was limited at the Sinclair holding. She was beginning to feel more at home as each day passed.

  “Aye, perhaps more than friends. Come, we need to get home quickly before the rain comes.”

  Violet walked beside him and pulled his tartan around her. Frang trailed happily behind them, wagging his tail. Her trek to the village didn’t yield seeds or plants as she’d hoped, but at least her effort to win Frang over was successful.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Callum settled Violet in his chamber. He inspected her legs and kissed her knees. “Ah, you’re ticklish. You’ll need a salve for your cuts. I’ll have the healer fetched.”

  “Don’t go to the trouble. Gussy has medicinals.” She covered her legs with his tartan and scooted to the edge of the bed. “I need a bath too.”

  He pressed her back upon the bed and held her face. “There are things I must do. Will you be well until I return?”

  “I understand you have duties. Please, go. I’ll await you here when I’m finished with my bath.”

  Callum caressed his nose against hers and pecked her lips with light kisses. He growled, but then smiled. “You make it hard to leave. I want to stay and… While I’m gone, don’t get into further trouble. You’ve had more mishaps since you’ve arrived, and I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

  Violet laughed. “I don’t like being hurt and getting into these scrapes.”

  He rolled away and stood. “I’ll return as soon as I can and if you’re asleep I’ll wake you.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “Nay, it’s a promise, because I want to kiss all your wounds and your bonny lips.” He thrust out his hand and helped her from the bed. Violet walked into the hallway with him and he reluctantly dislodged her hand. “Until later.”

  He dragged himself away. Clive awaited him and he sorely wanted to discuss certain matters with him. His cousin wasn’t within the castle and he set out to find him. Clive’s cottage was empty. He ambled around the courtyard and spoke to several soldiers. They hadn’t seen his cousin. Callum checked with the gate watch who appeared attentive in their duty.

  Peter, a soldier-in-training, jumped from the perch of the wall. “Clive was just here, Laird. He didn’t leave the fortification. I saw him enter the barracks.”

  He gave a firm nod and headed in that direction. As he walked along, his shoulder pain stitched and he rubbed it to abate the aches. He hoped Clive found Hawisa. She needed to answer for the mistreatment of his daughter. That got him to thinking about her brother Hammond. The man hadn’t shown himself in some time, and he couldn’t recall when he’d last seen him. At least, he hadn’t seen him since his return.

  Clive exited the barracks and approached. “Laird, did you find milady?”

  “Aye, she was in the woods, trapped by a thorn bush.”

  His cousin chortled. “Aye? A thorn bush? Was she harmed?” His gaze bore concern.

  “Not too badly, but she has a few scrapes though from the thorns. Have you found Hawisa yet?” Callum appreciated Clive’s acceptance of Violet. He seemed fond of her, which would make his intentions easier to bear if he decided to keep her.

  Clive shook his head. “I searched everywhere. She’s not within the walls, leastwise, where I’ve searched for her. Where would she go? I’m not aware of any friends she has in the village or elsewhere.”

  “We need to find Hawisa and also Hammond. That they’re both missing concerns me.” Callum sidled next to his cousin as they approached the castle.

  Clive scowled. “Do you get the notion Hammond had something to do with Gavin’s death? He’s been missing for some time, and no one has questioned him about it. Hammond is a wastrel and unimportant, but mayhap, he meant to increase his position. Yet, I don’t see him being brazen enough to slay Gavin.”

  Callum frowned at the thought Hammond would kill his brother. He and Gavin were somewhat close, at least, closer than he was with his brother. “We haven’t had a chance to speak about this, but when I was a
t the battle… Several of our clansmen attacked me after the call of retreat. They intended to kill me.”

  His cousin pulled him to a stop. “Are you sure? Why would our clansmen want you dead? All respect you. They have more fondness for you than for Gavin. That makes little sense though. I’m speechless that someone within our clan would want to do you in.”

  Callum ceased to walk ahead and braced his legs. “I’m as astounded as you. My concern is who directed them to attack me? Do you deem Hammond killed my brother and wanted me dead so his father could take the lairdship? The men were Gavin’s guard, and friends of Hammond. They might have been more loyal to Hammond than to Gavin. Perhaps he sent our clansmen to ambush me.”

  “It’s possible, but I never figured Hammond had the bollocks to do something as impulsive. He followed Gavin around akin a gosling to a goose, aye his head was always up your brother’s arse.”

  “Unless Hammond was directed to do so. We should question Uncle Elias. If he’s behind my brother’s death and my assassination attempt, we’ll need to deal with him.”

  “If they’re determined to oust you, you’d better watch your back, Callum. This is a real threat, and one that concerns me.”

  Callum turned and walked toward his uncle’s cottage. “Indeed it is.”

  Clive forced him to stop again and stretched out his arm. “Don’t you find it strange that Hammond hides? If he killed Gavin and meant to kill you… None saw your brother killed. No one would suspect him in your ambush, so why would he hide? You’d think he’d be here supporting his father in his bid to be laird.”

  “Mayhap he’s deduced we suspect him? Or perhaps, he believes the soldiers he sent to slay me told me about his command? Hammond likely hides, because he assumes I know the truth.”

  Clive shook his head. “Nay, he wouldn’t. There is no reason to suspect him. I wonder if he even knows you have returned?”

  Callum stood in the center of the lane and grimaced at their conjecture. “I’ve thought the events related, but mayhap not.”

  “They might be, but we cannot assume.” Clive motioned to their uncle’s cottage. “It doesn’t look like Elias is there.”

  “We’ll deal with Hawisa, Hammond, and Elias, on the morrow. Before you go, I forgot to mention that I want you to assign ten men to go to each clansmen’s cottage.”

  “What for?”

  Callum pulled Clive aside when two women walked by. “I want them to help our clansmen and women ready for the winter. They will make sure the cottages that need rethatching is done, and fix anything that needs it. The weather is warming and now is the time to mend fences, so to speak.”

  Clive bobbed his head. “Aye, and with the number of repairs needed, it might take weeks to get to them all. The cost will be great though, and our coffers are not as full as they once were. How will we pay for this?”

  “Worry not, Clive. I have more than enough coin to pay for the repairs. See that it’s done. Give me an accounting of the repairs and I’ll get the payment to you.”

  Clive whistled low. “So you did make a fortune over the channel? I thought you and Keith jested when you said your horses were weighed down with coin. Damn me, I should’ve gone with you. But this is good news, and why I always thought you’d make a good laird.”

  Callum laughed. “You would’ve been bored. All I did was stand guard and got no action with my sword. Go back to the keep and rest. You’ll be busy on the morrow. I want to stop at my old cottage before I return for the night.” He turned and started off to the end of the lane.

  It had been a long time since he’d been inside his cottage. Upon his return, and after Clive told him the happenings of Gavin’s murder and Lydia’s death, he felt it unnecessary to visit. The last time he’d been inside, was on the day he’d left for the skirmish with James.

  Hawisa had it emptied and cleaned after Lydia’s death. He stepped inside and disheartened at what could’ve been. His last moment with Lydia distressed him further. He remembered she appeared to want to say something before he left. What troubled her? Was she guilt-ridden for her adultery and because she conceived a bairn? Or was she sorry for her neglect during their marriage?

  He wished she’d spoken to him. And he regretted that he put off his conversation with her, about coming to an understanding about their relationship. If he had spoken to her, perhaps she might have confessed what she’d done, and she wouldn’t have gone to the hereafter with their disharmony.

  Callum ambled around the barren cottage and memories of Dela’s birth came. And he recalled the moments when Lydia was somewhat civil to him. Why had she married him if she didn’t care for him? The past continued to taunt him, but he wanted to put it behind him. He had to. Being the laird, his main concern should be for his clansmen and women, their safety, and that of his daughter.

  He left the cottage and strolled toward the keep. Several people stood outside their homes and gave him strange looks. Maybe Clive was right, his clan thought him dead. An old woman approached. He recalled his encounter with her on the night of the fireball. She’d been distraught, and he’d tried to reassure her that she wouldn’t perish. He nodded in greeting.

  She stood before him, blocked his path, and peered at him with an almost fearful gaze. “Callum, we despaired you wouldn’t return. Aye, that the fireball foretold our destruction came true. When the laird was killed, we were sure it was the end of the Sinclairs.”

  “I told you not to fear the fireball. It had nothing to do with my delay in returning.” He grinned to reassure her that he was appeased the darkness was gone.

  “You did, but when you took long to return, and the laird was murdered…”

  “I’m here now, Mistress. Cease your worries, we will prosper again, and commit our work to God, as we have always done.” He purposely spoke the words of his clan’s motto to remind her that he was devoted to their clan.

  “I’m gladdened. Perhaps the fireball told of goodwill and not bad. You are laird now and all stand with you. Your father would be proud of you.”

  Callum hoped so. “I will need all the clan’s support. Rest assured, we will have a good future.”

  She chuffed and stepped back to allow him to pass. “We shall, Laird.”

  The clans’ people who watched the by-between, nodded to him as he passed. Callum continued onward and inclined his head to those who greeted him as he strolled by. He reached the courtyard and tensed at the sense that someone watched him. He turned abruptly and saw a dark figure near the water well. With light steps, he approached and drew closer. The figure appeared from the shadows.

  “Hawisa, there you are. We’ve been looking for you all day. Where have you been?”

  “Oh, Callum, you frightened me. I thought you were…”

  “Who? Hammond? Where is your brother?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in months.”

  “Months? Where is he? I want to question him about Gavin’s death.” Callum folded his arms across his chest and took a non-threatened stance. He hoped to gain information and the only way to do so was to remain affable.

  “Hammond had nothing to do with Gavin’s murder.”

  “Aye? How do you know this?”

  Hawisa pushed her hair behind her shoulder and took a step closer. “Because he disappeared before Gavin was killed. I think he got tired of our da’s rebukes and left. He and our da fought constantly and their last row was heated.”

  “What did they argue about?” Callum wondered why no one told him Hammond left before Gavin was murdered. He’d suspected his cousin had something to do with the attack of his brother, but if he’d been gone when it happened, it was unlikely. Another question that riddled him was why his uncle hadn’t mentioned how long Hammond had been missing. The way his uncle spoke, indicated he’d seen his son, especially given he wanted him to name him as leader of the soldiers.

  Hawisa took the bucket from the ground and filled it. “I don’t know what they fought about, but Da was more disgr
untled than I’d ever seen him. You’ll need to find Hammond if you wish to know because Da will tell you nothing. You know how stubborn he is.”

  Callum firmed his lips at that thought. Even if he found his cousin, there was no assurance he’d tell him the truth of the matter either. “Before you go, we need to discuss Dela.”

  “Dela?” Hawisa set the bucket on the well’s ledge.

  “Aye. You need no longer look after her.”

  Her brows furrowed. “I don’t understand. She needs me and I―”

  “You nothing. You’ve mistreated her.” He didn’t hold back his blunt retort. “How could you hurt her like that, and say awful things to her. She’s just a wee lass and doesn’t understand what happened betwixt her mother and me.”

  “Why should you care about the lass?” Hawisa groused and turned away. When she turned back, she had hatred in her eyes. “Your wife, that cow, detested you. Dela is probably a bastard and not even your bairn. Lydia died bearing another man’s child. The babe wasn’t yours. Are you not enraged by her deceit? You should be glad to be rid of her.”

  Callum pressed his hands over his face to rid his frustration and tried not to let her rile him. “How do you know the bairn wasn’t mine?” He’d told no one of his relations with Lydia or that they’d had a conflict. How would she know they hadn’t had marital relations?

  “The cow told me she hadn’t shared your bed since the early days of your marriage.”

  He scowled and was astounded that Lydia spoke to her about their relationship. At one time, Lydia and Hawisa were close and shared confidences. At least, they appeared close. That was until he’d returned from his sojourn across the channel. When he returned, he noticed the dissonance between them. “Why would she tell you that?”

  “Is it not true? I saw the way you looked at Lydia, the harridan. You cared about her and she didn’t deserve you.”