Highlander's Reckoning (The Sinclair Brothers #3) (7 page)

Daniel pressed his seal into the hot wax on the
fourth and final letter in front of him. One was for the Bruce, informing him
that he had safely arrived at Loch Doon, had married Rona Kennedy—Rona
Sinclair
,
he reminded himself as he blew on the wax to harden it—and had sent away Laird
Kennedy in order to bring the castle fully under his control.

The other three letters were going to his brothers
and cousin, asking them to join him at Loch Doon for a wedding celebration. Of
course, they all knew the real reason for the Sinclairs to gather at Loch Doon.
They were needed for a strategic meeting on the Bruce’s plan to lay siege to
Dunbraes Castle to the southeast.

The Bruce had communicated his plan to each of them
individually, sending only his personal messenger to carry each letter himself.
It was too dangerous, especially in the Lowlands, to do otherwise.

As much as Daniel was looking forward to seeing his
two older brothers and his cousin Burke, a combination of worry and dread
filled him as he stacked the letters on the edge of his desk. The business of
sieging a castle was lengthy and dangerous. His whole family would be at
risk—including Rona, who would have to stay at Loch Doon while he was away. And
he didn’t trust her to be alone.

She’d finally returned to the castle yesterday as
twilight was setting in. He’d pretended not to notice her absence and hadn’t
questioned her about it at the somber evening meal, but all the while he’d
seethed inside.

Perhaps she was just quiet because her father had
been sent away a few days before. Or perhaps she only appeared evasive because
she was shy.

Daniel immediately rejected that thought. He’d seen
the fire in her bright blue eyes and heard the barbs on her tongue frequently
enough to know that she wasn’t simply a shy, maidenly sort of lass. Nay, she
was far too bold—perhaps from experience that no maiden should have.

She’d complained of a headache and had retired
early—again—last night. She was deliberately delaying their consummation,
sneaking away, and either lying about what she was doing or simply refusing to
explain herself.

He’d made up his mind about what to do as he tossed
and turned in his cold bed last night.

“You sent for me, my lord?” Malcolm said in the
study’s doorway. Daniel had been so wrapped up in his thoughts about Rona that
he hadn’t even heard the slight man enter. He cursed himself silently but
beckoned Malcolm in.

“See that these get delivered,” he said, gesturing
toward the stack of letters on the desk.

Malcolm nodded silently and stepped forward to
retrieve the letters.

“And Malcolm,” Daniel said reluctantly. He’d already
made up his mind. Now he just had to follow through.

Malcolm turned back to him, a questioning look on
his face. “Aye, my lord?”

“When Lady Rona takes a boat to the village today”
—Daniel didn’t even bother saying “if” she went out, so common had her little
trips been in the few days since he had sent Kennedy back to his clan at
Dunure— “follow her.”

Malcolm’s eyes widened slightly. “Follow her, my
lord?”

“You heard me,” Daniel ground out. “I want to know
where she goes.”

Malcolm closed his mouth quickly, wisely realizing
that to ask more questions would only make things worse. “Aye, my lord.”

“Keep your distance. I don’t want her knowing you’re
there.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“And Malcolm?”

“Aye, my lord?”

“Tell no one of my orders.”

Daniel ignored the stab of shame he felt at his
words, and at the fact that he was asking one of his servants to follow his
wife. But he couldn’t force her to explain herself, nor could he expect to earn
the trust and respect of the castle if he was being cuckolded. He could only
hope to learn the truth about her activities in as inconspicuous a way as
possible. He just prayed that this mess could be contained without scandal or
further embarrassment.

Malcolm bowed wordlessly and took his leave from the
study.

Daniel hated using the man for such a task,
especially considering that only a few days ago he was more loyal to Kennedy
than Daniel. But Malcolm could at least be discreet.

He hoped.

The only warning Rona had was the little extra tilt
upward of Bhreaca’s wings. Then the peregrine falcon went into her stooping
motion, and Rona felt her stomach flip with excitement. Bhreaca folded her
wings tight against her body in mid-air, and then dove straight at the ground.
The bird fell like a stone, though Rona knew Bhreaca was in control.

At the last possible moment, Bhreaca’s wings popped
out. Instead of crashing headlong into the small clearing in the Galloway
woods, Bhreaca’s talons scrapped the ground, closing tight around a pheasant.
With one swift flick of her beak, the falcon broke the pheasant’s neck. Then
Bhreaca flapped a few times, gaining the air once again with the pheasant
locked in her talons.

The falcon circled Rona, swinging lower and lower
until she dropped the pheasant and came to light on Rona’s outstretched,
gauntleted forearm.

“Wonderful, Bhreaca,” Rona crooned as she reached
into a pouch at her waist and extended a scrap of meat to the falcon. Bhreaca
ate eagerly. With all the extra hunting and flying of late, the falcon’s
appetite had grown.

“She returns to you more quickly than she does to
me,” Ian said as he emerged from the forest into the small clearing. Fionna,
the snowy-white gyrfalcon, rode comfortably on his arm. Ian, though simply
clothed, looked like a man emerging from a legend. Or like a king.

Rona shuddered at the thought, her excitement from
Bhreaca’s high-speed dive replaced with foreboding. If anyone saw them out
here…

“I’m glad you fly her when I can’t get away from the
castle,” Rona replied sadly. “I fear these frequent visits of late may be
coming to an end.”

Mairi appeared behind Ian and the two of them strode
side by side toward her. When they reached her, Mairi bent down and plucked the
dead pheasant from Rona’s feet, tossing it in a canvass bag she carried in one
hand.

“What makes you think so, dear?” Mairi said, concern
in her eyes.

These two had been so good to her. They treated her
with more warmth and love than her parents ever had. Though both Mairi and Ian
were nearly two decades older than she, they’d never had children of their own.

God didn’t bless us with children
,
Mairi always said in her most cheerful voice,
but he blessed us with you
.
Rona was somewhere between daughter and friend to them both. They had taught
her the traditions of falconry as they would have to their own children if
they’d had any.

Rona sighed and turned in the direction of Ian and
Mairi’s cottage.

“Daniel is growing suspicious. If I’m not careful,
he’ll find out about us.”

Rona could feel the weight of Mairi’s penetrating
stare. “And you still don’t trust him?”

Though she knew Mairi had a way of seeing straight
to the truth, Rona was still startled at the blunt words.

“Aye, I suppose I don’t.”

“Why not? Surely two people who share a bed can
share a few secrets as well,” Mairi said with a sweet smile. As they walked,
she interlocked her fingers with Ian’s free hand, and Rona didn’t miss the
heated glance that passed between them.

She averted her eyes quickly, feeling a blush rising
up her neck and into her cheeks. Instead of fumbling for words, she remained
silent. Unfortunately, that didn’t save her from Mairi’s keen-eyed observation.

“You two have…haven’t you? You were married more
than a week and a half ago!”

“I’d better get the birds back into their mews,” Ian
said almost on top of Mairi’s words.

All too willing for Ian not to be a part of the
conversation, Rona sent Bhreaca up into the air with a raise of her arm, then
slid her leather gauntlet onto Ian’s free hand. Bhreaca lighted on Ian’s other
arm across from Fionna, and Ian hustled back to the cottage to leave the women
to talk.

“Rona,” Mairi said when Ian was barely out of
earshot. “Should we talk about what normally goes on between a husband and
wife?”

“Nay!” she said, coloring even more than before. “I
mean, I know the basics. It’s not that…it’s…”

Mairi patted her hand, waiting.

“It’s…I don’t want to lose my head.”

Mairi frowned. “You really believe he would have you
beheaded for practicing falconry in secret?”

Rona sighed. “Nay, I mean, I don’t want to lose
control of myself. Daniel has a…strange effect on me. When he touches me, or
even just when he’s near, I can’t seem to think straight.”

Mairi stared at her for a long moment. Then she
threw her dark head back and erupted into uproarious laughter. By the time
Mairi was wiping her eyes and catching her breath, Rona had her arms crossed
over her chest and her jaw was set in annoyance.

“Forgive me, dear,” Mairi said, catching Rona’s
glare, “but that sounds like a wonderful problem to have. How fortunate you are
to have a spark between you, especially considering you’d never even met before
you were married.”

“It’s not a wonderful problem to have when you are
trying to protect the lives of your two best friends,” Rona retorted.

Mairi sobered at that. “I know you want to protect
us, but—”

“But I can’t very well do that if I am turning
moon-eyed over the suspicious Highlander I’m supposed to be sharing a bed
with!”

Rona knew her anger was misdirected at Mairi, but
she was beginning to feel desperate and cornered.

“I know I can’t keep putting him off forever, but I
don’t see an alternative. I can’t trust him with our secret. I still barely
know him. He sent my father away, and he grows more watchful of me, and—”

“There, there, Rona dear.” Mairi reached up and
wrapped an arm around Rona’s shoulders, which were shaking. Rona tried to take
a few calming breaths but had to bite her lower lip to hold in the panicked
sobs.

After a long moment, Mairi spoke quietly. “I don’t
know what you’re going through, so I probably shouldn’t try to advise you. But
I believe and trust that everything will work out. You’ll see.”

Rona nodded numbly. “Thank you, Mairi.”

“You take too much onto yourself, dear.” Instead of
motherly chastisement, Mairi’s voice conveyed a deeper concern. “Perhaps you
can trust more—trust
him
more.”

The image of Daniel’s hard jawline, covered in dark
stubble, his stormy blue-gray eyes, his firm, enticing lips, and his towering,
muscular frame floated into Rona’s mind. Trust him. But she had no reason to.

Her body warmed as his ruggedly handsome visage
continued to swim in her mind. Perhaps she did have one reason. Her body seemed
to be drawn to him, to inherently trust in his strength, his command, and his
returned desire for her. Could she put her trust—and her life—in such a
visceral, intangible knowledge?

Daniel shoved another stone in place, with perhaps
more force than was necessary. Despite the fact that he had been working on the
weakened spot in the curtain wall for more than two hours, he still had extra
energy to burn. Every time he thought about Rona sneaking off with some farmer
or baker or blacksmith, a surge of rage tore through him.

He hefted another stone onto his shoulder and
carried it a few yards to the crumbling portion of the wall. When had he become
so possessive of the lass? He told himself that it was only the dishonor of
being cuckolded that rankled so much, but deep down, he knew the truth. He
wanted Rona for himself.

He had never wanted one particular lass so badly
before. What a laughable irony that the lass in question was his wife, and yet
she repeatedly denied him. What was she hiding? Or,
whom
was she hiding?

And what was it about her? Certainly she was bonny,
though she wasn’t the type he thought he was drawn to. She was tall and slim
rather than buxom, and that hair of hers seemed to lead a life of its own,
sometimes flying wildly around her face, other times flowing in sensuous
unbound waves. She had a temper and a sharp tongue, not unlike himself, though
she was less controlled and calculating. Her thoughts played out on her face,
and yet she kept secrets from him. And damn it all, she responded to his kisses
and touches in a way that only fired his blood more.

Just as he flung the stone from his shoulder onto
the ground in front of the curtain wall, Malcolm appeared in the corner of his
vision.

“What?” he barked. Christ, thoughts of her were even
causing him to lose his grip on his self-control.

Malcolm shrank back slightly, but spoke. “I did as
you asked, my lord. I followed La—”

Malcolm’s voice cut off suddenly as Daniel closed
the distance between them lightning-fast.

“Quieter, if you please, Malcolm,” he said tightly.