The Sinclair Jewels Books One-Three: A Scottish Medieval Romance Series Bundle

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The Sinclair Jewels Books One-Three: A Scottish Medieval Romance Series Bundle Page 45

by Caroline Lee


  Children of my heart.

  Aye, and they’d swiftly become children of her heart as well. Becoming a mother had never been her dream—not like her older sister, Agata—but suddenly acquiring nine children wasn’t as hard as she might’ve imagined. Of course, Mary was more like a sister than a daughter, and if she and Andrew managed to wear down Merrick’s resistance soon, they’d be married.

  Heavens! Saffy’s eyes widened as she realized that Mary could very well make Merrick a grandfather by next year…which would make her a grandmother!

  She couldn’t help it; she burst into giggles, which drew both Merrick and Da’s attention. Seeing them together made her heart soar, and her laughter increased. Behind Da, his loyal bodyguard—the Sinclair Hound, otherwise known as Saffy’s brother-in-law Gregor—barely twitched a brow.

  “Lord help us,” Citrine said with a sigh as she moved to Saffy’s side to take her arm. “Breeding’s made ye addled.”

  “Breeding?” Da blurted. Then his grin turned wry as he rolled his eyes in Merrick’s direction. “I suppose the rumors about yer family are true, eh, Devil?”

  “Aye,” her love drawled. “And if ye hadnae agreed to an alliance, Sinclair, Saf would still become my wife.”

  “Ye love her?”

  Merrick’s nod was quick, certain. “Aye. She’s mine. And her bairn will be my heir.”

  Hearing the words spoken so assuredly—and in front of her father, no less—made Saffy’s mood swing from elated to weepy. Her smile turned watery as she met Merrick’s gaze.

  He blew out an exasperated breath and crossed to her in two quick strides to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I donae remember my other women being this emotional.”

  Even knowing he’d only said it to annoy her, Saffy’s mood swung back to irritated in a blink. She jabbed him with a finger. “’Tis because I’m no’ yer other women, Devil. I’m special.”

  He caught her finger in his hand and raised her palm to his lips. “Aye. Ye are.”

  Her heart melted as he placed a kiss on her sensitive skin, and Citrine sighed loudly beside her.

  “I’m stealing her away from ye three louts. I need to visit with my sister!”

  Da chuckled and waved his hand in dismissal. “And I need to visit with my auld friend. Have a servant bring up some wine. Sutherland, I think ye remember my Hound?”

  Merrick pulled himself to his full height and met Gregor’s stare. “Ye’re the Hound? The one married to Pearl?”

  Gregor’s chin dropped just slightly in acknowledgement, and when he spoke—a rare event—his voice was a rasp from the injury to his neck so long ago. “I’ll no’ apologize for taking her from ye, Devil.”

  Merrick’s brow twitched. “I’ll no’ expect ye to. Saffy tells me the lass is verra much in love with ye. She also tells me ye’ve changed much since I hanged ye.”

  When Gregor nodded again, there was something in his eyes Saffy hadn’t seen before. She knew Gregor was happy in his new life with Pearl, but she wondered how he’d get along with her love.

  She wondered if Merrick would admit he’d been wrong to judge Gregor so quickly.

  “Duncan is right, then. We have much to discuss.” He leaned in closer to the two women. “Go on. Yer father will be safe with me,” he assured them in a low voice.

  Over the last weeks, Saffy had shared what she knew of her father’s condition with Merrick, and he understood how concerned she and her sister were.

  They’d arrived at the keep and come right here to Da’s solar, so she’d had no chance to speak with Citrine, other than the letter she’d sent soon after Lindsay’s defeat. But upon entering the room and seeing Da sitting alone at his desk, looking almost normal…Saffy had burst into tears and hugged him until he’d complained.

  Beside her, Citrine nodded to Merrick, then dragged Saffy out into the hall. With their heads tucked together, they walked and whispered just as when they’d been girls.

  “He looks so much better, Citrine! Was it just an illness?”

  “Nay.” Her twin’s tone was grim. “I’ve had him on a bland diet, which he objected most strongly to. No’ only does it no’ irritate his stomach, it has the benefit of fewer flavorings. I taste everything that goes on his trencher.”

  Saffy’s eyes went wide. “Ye still think it might be poison? Here? In his own keep?”

  Her sister shrugged. “A sennight after ye left, he was so bad he couldnae get out of bed. Dougal had to help him with everything. But once I changed his diet—and I insisted on being the one to bring him the food—he began to improve. If I’m not able to fetch him his dinner, sometimes he relapses.”

  “But ye haven’t had any ill effects?”

  Citrine shrugged. “Nay, but I have no’ eaten much. If ’tis poison—”

  “I cannae believe someone is poisoning him, Citrine. It must be a malady. Or something irritating his stomach.”

  “Mayhap. But I’m no’ lessening my guard. Ye’ll notice who isnae here?”

  Saffy gasped, just as they stepped in their old chambers together. “Dougal?” she hissed. “Ye think Da’s commander has something to do with this?”

  “The man hasnae stopped nagging Da about me marrying that MacLeod lad. He’s determined to get me away from the keep.”

  Saffy blew out an exasperated breath. “That doesnae mean aught beside the fact he wants ye to do what he thinks is yer duty.”

  “My duty is to my father. Ye’re the one marrying and giving him grand-bairns.”

  Citrine poked Saffy in her side, and they both began to chuckle.

  “The Sutherland Devil, Saffy! I cannae believe it! I’ve been out of my mind with worry, not sure if I could send a letter or messenger! And then I got yer letter, and am no’ ashamed to admit I cried to hear ye were well. And ye said in yer letter ye were the one to stab that bastard Lindsay? I need to hear all about how my training saved the Sutherlands!”

  “Well, I was Merrick’s squire for a while. He gets credit, too.”

  “I have to hear this story!”

  Aye, Saffy looked forward to telling her twin everything which had happened in the fortnights since she left the Sinclair holding. Most of all, she needed to talk about Lindsay and the mixture of terror and assurance she’d felt confronting him.

  After his death, Gavin had indeed rallied the Sutherland warriors who, along with Merrick’s forces inside the keep, had no trouble defeating the leaderless Lindsay men. Enough had died during the initial assault that their numbers were depleted, and less than a score of Sutherland warriors had been lost overall.

  It had been a hard-won victory, but the clan was stronger for it. John Lindsay had been defeated, and Merrick had sent an envoy to the Lowland clan to assure the laird his anger had been only for his half-brother. And although there were surely more Sutherland bastards spread throughout the Highlands, no one would dare attempt to replicate Lindsay’s claim now that Merrick been so decisively victorious.

  She took a deep breath as Citrine led her toward the window seat. “I have much to tell ye, I believe.”

  “But first…” Her twin swung her around, placed her hands on Saffy’s shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. “Ye are happy? When ye left here, ye acted as if ye were on yer way to yer death.”

  Saffy chuckled and shook her head. “I almost was. Remind me to tell ye about Andrew and my stay in the dungeon. But aye, I’m happy. I love Merrick, and he loves me.”

  Citrine’s firebrand eyes searched her face, as if not quite believing, before she nodded. “I’m glad. I’ll miss ye, of course, but I’m glad ye’ve found happiness, sister.”

  “Ye will, too, I ken it. One day—”

  “Nay,” Citrine interrupted, “I’ll no’ leave Da.” Before Saffy could object, her twin released her and made an impatient gesture. “But enough about me. Do ye have it?”

  There could only be one it.

  Saffy reached for the pouch she wore on her belt. After so long in breeches, it still felt a little con
fining to wear skirts. But Merrick had introduced her to all sorts of unexpected benefits to the easy access skirts provided.

  Slightly flushed from the memories, Saffy pulled out the leather pouch and placed it in her sister’s palm.

  Citrine whistled in appreciation as she slid the huge sapphire from its hiding spot. “Ye found it,” she whispered reverently. “This is the second jewel, Saffy.” When she met her sister’s eyes, Citrine’s were bright with excitement. “There should only be two left, aye?”

  “Aye. But mayhap if Da kenned we’d found two already…”

  Citrine frowned as she tucked the stone away once more and crossed to the small chest she kept under the big bed. “I donae ken, Saffy. He’s so weak…”

  “Mayhap he believes the legend. Did ye ever consider that? If he believes the clan is doomed, mayhap he’s already despairing, which is why he tried so hard to get us all married?”

  Citrine snorted as she placed the sapphire beside the agate that already resided in the chest, hidden below the ancient tapestry which had started them all down this path.

  “He’ll no’ marry me off so easily,” she muttered, closing the lid.

  “Mayhap he doesnae need to,” Saffy teased. “Da seems quite happy with the matches me and Pearl and Agata have made ourselves.”

  “And ye think I’m likely to find myself a husband?”

  Saffy smiled at her twin. “I think ye’re likely to do anything ye can to prove ye cannae be controlled.”

  Citrine burst into laughter as she pushed herself up from where she’d been squatting and kicked the chest back under the bed. “Ye may be right, sister!”

  “I’ll tell ye the rest, I promise, but I want to see wee Pearl.”

  “Aye, and she’ll have my skin if I didnae drag ye out to their little cottage right away. We were right, by the by—she is increasing.”

  Saffy joined her sister in laughter as they moved toward the door. “That news likely helped Da’s mood improve, aye?”

  “Aye! Ye two will get to race for who births the first grand-bairn first.”

  “And Agata?”

  Citrine took her arm even as she shrugged. “She’s no’ mentioned anything in her letters, aside from how well wee Callan is adjusting. I’m glad she writes so often.”

  Saffy had just opened her mouth to ask another question about their older sister, when Merrick stepped in the door.

  The look in his eyes—part need, part hesitation—made her stop in her tracks.

  Citrine looked between the two of them. “I cannae tell if yer meeting with Da and the Hound went well, but I’ll assume I’ll learn at dinner.”

  With a sigh, she wrapped Saffy in a quick hug. “I’ll pop out to visit with Pearl and invite her to the keep for the meal. Ye’ll promise to make time for me later?”

  Saffy wanted to protest, for she’d only just arrived, and would spend all the time with her twin as possible. But she’d learned lately that when Merrick looked at her that way, she wasn’t able to concentrate on aught else.

  “Aye…” she agreed, her gaze on her future husband. She barely heard her sister snort and slip out of their chambers.

  When they were alone, Merrick pushed the door closed, without ever taking his eyes off hers.

  “Devil?” she asked hesitantly, crossing to him.

  Quick as lightning, he reached out and snatched her against him, his hand going to the back of her head. “He’s a good man, Saf.”

  “Da?”

  “The Hound. Gregor. I’m…” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I should no’ have done what I did to him,” he admitted, dropping his forehead to hers.

  “’Twas more than a decade ago, Merrick,” her murmured, her hand snaking around him to rub his back in comfort. “Ye have changed since then.”

  When he exhaled, his breath mixed with hers. “I’ve changed even more since ye came into my life, my wee jewel.”

  “For the better, I hope?” she teased.

  When he flexed his hips, she felt his erection beneath his kilt, and the knowledge sent a spike of warmth through her.

  “Ye tell me,” he growled, his eyes flashing open once more.

  She swallowed, arousal pooling in the center of her being. “Much better,” she managed past a dry throat.

  And when she ground her hips against his, the noise he made was part moan, part laugh.

  She squealed when he scooped her into his arms and crossed toward the bed. “What are ye doing, Devil?”

  “I’m an auld man, Saf. I need to be lying down when I let my wife have her way with me. None of this fucking against doors the way the young ones do it.”

  She laughed as he tossed her onto the bed, and she hurried to pull her gown up around her waist. He was already reaching under his kilt, and her body hummed in anticipation.

  But as he lowered himself onto her, she stopped him with a raised finger.

  “What?” he growled.

  “Just this once, my love. Then ye must rest up, for I need ye to be in top form.”

  “For dinner?”

  “Nay,” she replied with an impish smile. “We’ve been given the largest guest chambers, and I want to test the door’s—and yer own—strength!”

  The sparkle in his striking eyes told her he understood her teasing. Still, his frown was fierce as he leaned in close to her. “Ye think I need to rest up before I can pleasure the woman I love?”

  “I think ye have a lifetime to prove it, my Devil!”

  The Sinclair Jewels Series

  Book 1 – The Sinclair Hound

  Book 2 – The Mackenzie Regent

  Book 3 – The Sutherland Devil

  Book 4 – The MacLeod Pirate

  Author’s Note

  On Historical Accuracy

  We’ve already had the discussion about how 13th-century Scotsmen didn’t wear kilts. We decided we didn’t care, and were willing to go along—suspension of disbelief and all that—because of the gorgeous model on the cover, right?

  So, let’s suspend our disbelief a bit more. Just as clan tartans didn’t become a thing until much later, we can assume clan mottos and crests weren’t exactly codified by the 13th Century. But of course Merrick and his warriors need a battle cry, so I went with the modern, accepted motto of Clan Sutherland: Without Fear.

  As for the MacLeod crest, that’s a little harder; in the time this story takes place, the MacLeods of Lewes were still a brand-new clan. That will definitely come into the next and final episode in the Sinclair Jewels series, The MacLeod Pirate. But in the meantime, we’ll just have to pretend the Lewes MacLeods already had their crest in place, and it was well-known enough for Merrick to recognize it when he found it carved on the wall to his dungeon.

  How exactly did it get there? And who hid the large sapphire behind it? Will the rest of the jewels be recovered in time, or will Laird Sinclair continue to decline?

  Pick up Citrine’s story—The MacLeod Pirate—to find out!

  And seeing as how I completely and utterly fell in love with the chaos at the Sutherland holding, you can darn well bet we’ll be re-visiting. Maybe not in the Sinclair Jewels series, but I think Gavin, Elana, and all of Merrick’s adorable bairns deserve their own happily ever afters, don’t you?

  Sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Amazon, or follow me on Bookbub to get the notice when these new series are ready for you!

  And as always, happy reading!

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Caroline Lee has been reading romance for so long that her fourth-grade teacher used to make her cover her books with paper jackets. But it wasn’t until she (mostly) grew up that she realized she could WRITE it too. So she did.

  Caroline is living her own little Happily Ever After in NC with her husband, sons, and brand-new daughter, Princess Wiggles. And while she doesn’t so much “suffer” from Pittakionophobia as think all you people who enjoy touching Band-Aids and stickers are the real weirdos, she does adore rodent
s, and never met a wine she didn’t like. Caroline was named Time Magazine’s Person of the Year in 2006 (along with the rest of you) and is really quite funny in person. Promise.

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