Return of the Rogue (23 page)

C
avan wrapped himself around his sleeping wife; though a fire roared in the hearth, the room still held the chill of winter. He smiled, recalling how only a couple of hours ago they had heated the bedchamber considerably with their fierce lovemaking. After a heated debate, they tore at each other’s clothes, to tangle amidst the bedding until they finally succumbed to their passion with a series of crazed climaxes.

His body would have sprung to life at the recalled memory if he hadn’t been so satisfied by their joining. Now, however, he preferred to snuggle against her and simply enjoy their closeness.

The last few weeks had proved trying, with everyone adjusting to his new role, including him. He would enter his father’s solar, his mind filled with pending issues, and for a moment expect his father to be there with the answers, or at least guidance. Once again he’d be overwhelmed with the loss and he’d sit, not in his father’s chair behind his desk, but in the chair he used to take when talking with Tavish in confidence.

He was still trying to accept that his father was no longer there, that he, Cavan Sinclare, was now laird of the clan. And while plagued with that daily thought, he was also determined to solve his father’s murder. He owed it to his father and the clan so that all rumors could finally be laid to rest and a sense of safety and peace might once again return to the clan.

Honora continued to be a great help to him in his search for the killer. She had gotten to know many of the villagers and quickly discarded most as the potential foe. Her stepfather had even been considered a possible suspect, but was discarded since he had gotten what he wanted with his stepdaughter’s marriage to Cavan. The more digging they did, the shorter the list of suspects became. By now they’d begun to wonder if it could have been someone passing by, a merchant who stopped to sell his wares, a weary traveler looking for shelter, or a man purposely sent to kill his father. But for what reason?

He and Honora discussed the possibilities endlessly, as did he and his brothers. None of them would rest until the man was found and punished for his crime. But as the weeks passed, it seemed less likely that they would ever find the culprit.

The one constant that continued to plague him and Honora was that in all likelihood it appeared that Tavish either had known his killer or not felt threatened by the person. His father had been too wise a warrior not to be able to defend himself, even in a surprise attack, which meant that Tavish hadn’t felt himself in danger. Two conflicting thoughts that
they couldn’t seem to join, but no doubt would prove the link in solving the murder.

Honora stirred, disturbed. Cavan soothed her with a caressing hand over her naked flesh, and she settled soon enough. They had grown even closer since his father’s death, and perhaps that was due to his need for her and her unconditional love. It amazed him that she placed no boundaries on her love for him.

She loved him plain and simple. It didn’t matter if he brooded or smiled, complained or rejoiced, her love was constant. She understood him, and oddly enough, he understood her. He knew there were times she preferred to walk the moors alone or venture in the woods. He knew she rarely had a bad word to say about anyone, and listened to complaints without complaining. She made time for Addie whenever she needed it, and continued to practice with her bow even though he had less time to teach her how to defend herself. And she always, always, responded to him when he touched her intimately.

He was completely and madly in love with his wife, and yet still found it difficult to tell her.

Why?

He wished he knew. It made no sense to him. The words should spill easily from his lips because she was so easy to love. But every time he tried to tell her, the words stuck in his throat. They came easily while she slept and could not hear him, but otherwise they remained locked away, and he hadn’t been able to find the key to unlock them.

She stirred again and turned to wrap herself around him, snuggling against him, her full breasts pressed hard against his chest. She had fast gotten used to and comfortable with being naked in front of him, and they slept that way every night.

Naked and wrapped around each other.

He had been lucky, so very lucky, to have found himself wed to her. When Honora confided that his father had thought them a good match from the very first time Calum approached Tavish, he was surprised. But then, his father had been a wise leader and knew his son well. His father had seen in Honora what he hadn’t been able to see. He’d seen the shining gem among the stones. And he blessed his father every day for being the one who had brought them together.

Cavan yawned and settled himself against her, ready for sleep—ready to be a good husband, ready to lead the clan, ready to finally love.

Honora had the next couple of hours to herself. Her husband was busy meeting with his brothers in the solar. Addie was busy in the kitchen with the cook, baking a special treat for her sons, and though she’d asked Honora if she wished to help, Honora understood that Addie was better left alone to do for her sons. This was a mother’s treat, something she did, had been doing, for years for them, and Honora had no intention of interfering. Which actually worked out well since Champion was handed over to her for safe keeping. If he had remained in the kitchen, he would have only
gotten into trouble and eaten whatever he could have reached.

Instead, she took Champion, intending to walk around the village and visit with people, to see if there was any gossip she could pick up. The dog, however, had other plans, and headed for the stable and his brothers and sisters.

Honora followed, knowing there were only two out of the five in the litter left, a few villagers staking claim to the others. She felt that Artair and Lachlan should claim the last two, both females and both beautiful animals. Where Champion was all black, the one female was black except for her paws, which were brown and gave her a regal appearance, and while she appeared docile, she could hold her own. She was a perfect companion for Artair. The other female was a mixture of brown and black and had a distinct personality. She followed no commands, doing exactly as she pleased, a fitting partner for Lachlan.

Honora followed Champion behind the stable, where the two females were tossing a bone between them. Champion joined in. She stood watching, realizing this was the place where Tavish had died.

She had been here before, with Cavan and his brothers, and all of them agreed that anyone could have easily hid in the woods that bordered the area and ambushed Tavish. But that wouldn’t have explained what Tavish was doing behind the stable. What had brought him there? Had he been looking for something? Or had someone called to him?

She had asked herself over and over who would want to hurt the laird of Clan Sinclare. There were none in the village who had a bad word to say about him. The clan members were content, well looked after, well provided for, well protected. There wasn’t one reason for anyone among them to harm the laird.

It would stand to reason, then, that it had been someone outside the clan. Of course, like any clan leader, Tavish had enemies, though none close enough to do him harm, unless someone was sent to purposely eliminate him.

But there were guards posted around the land, not only along the borders but throughout, for that specific reason—to spot any intruder—which was why the village always knew that a stranger approached before he even reached the outskirts of the village.

How, then, could Tavish have been killed by a stranger? He had to have known his assailant.

Champion bounded over to Honora, and she noticed that he was chewing on something. Spying the discarded bone and the other two dogs stretched out in a sunny patch, she worried that he’d found something that could hurt him or make him ill.

“Drop it,” she ordered sternly, her hand under his mouth.

He looked reluctant.

“Now!” she commanded, and he obeyed.

She grimaced at the small object covered with slime and took a closer look. It was a bit chewed but
she could see that it was a button, or at least had been. There was something familiar about it. She washed it off in the rain barrel by the side of the stable and took a better look.

It was familiar but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen it. Then she realized what she held. The button could very well belong to the man who killed Tavish, ripped off in the scuffle, possibly as Tavish attempted to defend himself before he dropped to his death from the knife wound.

“Good boy,” she said, praising Champion and patting his head. “You found a clue, possibly the only clue.”

She hurried to the keep, Champion fast on her heels, and when she’d almost reached the steps, stopped dead. She realized where she had seen the button.

It belonged to Calum.

Her skin turned to ice and all color drained from her face.

Her stepfather?

She couldn’t move, couldn’t shake her head at the ridiculous thought, couldn’t believe that he was capable of such a horrendous act. And why? What possible reason could he have to do Tavish harm? He had gotten what he wanted, his daughter married to the next laird of Clan Sinclare.

Why?

Why had he insisted that she wed the next laird, heir to Clan Sinclare? He had insisted that the marriage documents be drawn up specifying as much, and he’d argued vehemently when Cavan returned
on her wedding day that she had not wed Artair, but Cavan, since he was the head of the clan.

Had there been a plan behind it?

If so, that would make her responsible for Tavish’s death.

She placed a hand to her chest, and though she still could not move, it felt as if she were about to collapse. This couldn’t be possible. Her stepfather couldn’t have killed Tavish.

But why then had she found his button in the very spot where the murder had taken place?

She was so consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t notice that people had approached her. She could think of nothing but the shame of it. Her father had murdered Tavish Sinclare.

Good Lord, how would she ever tell her husband?

“Honora?”

She blinked a few times, thinking herself dreaming. That was it, she was dreaming. This was nothing more than a bad dream and she would wake up and everything would be all right.

“Honora!”

Her husband’s strong voice startled her. She jumped and stared at him, standing in front of her, and saw that Artair, Lachlan, Addie, and several villagers were there as well.

“She’s just been standing here like this for a while, drained of color,” she heard someone say, and saw Cavan nod.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out to take hold of her hand.

She jumped back, not wanting him to see what
she held, not wanting him to know just yet, not wanting to have to tell him that her stepfather had murdered his father.

He would hate her.

The thought flashed strong in her mind, and she wanted to cry out in pain. It wasn’t fair. She had finally found love, a good love with a good man. This couldn’t be happening.

“Honora,” Cavan said softly. “It’s all right. Everything is all right.”

She looked at his dark eyes, filled with concern, heard the tenderness in his voice, and recalled how just last night he had loved her so fiercely and then so tenderly.

He loved her.

He might not say it, but she knew that he loved her. She didn’t doubt it for a moment. He showed her every day how much he loved her when he touched her, protected her, laughed with her, talked with her, shared every bit of his life with her.

“Honora,” he said, taking a step closer. “Trust me. It’s all right.”

She felt the chill that had frozen her dissipate, felt the color rush back to her cheeks and a rush of warmth run up her legs and spread throughout her body. She stepped into her husband’s outstretched arms and he quickly wrapped them around her.

She pressed her face against his shirt, taking in his familiar scent, cherishing it, thankful for it. No matter what Calum had done, her husband would not blame her for it. She had been foolish to think so, but then, Calum had enjoyed making her think that
she could never be loved and that no man would want her.

The good match had to benefit him, but in his selfishness he’d actually made her a very good match.

“Tell me that you are all right,” Cavan begged softly.

She sighed, and didn’t want to move from his strong, protective embrace. She tilted her head back to look up at him, wanting first to ease his concern over her. “I am fine.”

“Then what is wrong?”

Sorrow filled her heart as she said, “I know who killed your father.”

C
avan sensed that the news was better kept between them for the moment, for if it had upset his wife this much, it could very well upset others even more. He ushered her into the great hall, telling his brothers and mother that Honora wasn’t feeling well and he would see her to their bedchamber.

Artair and Lachlan expressed their concern and urged him to take all the time he needed, saying they could talk later. Addie, as he suspected, insisted on helping, but he managed to convince her he’d do fine on his own and pointed out that Champion might be hungry. The animal obliged him by barking and trotting toward the kitchen.

“You’ll call me if you need me?” Addie asked, hurrying after the dog.

“Without a doubt,” Cavan confirmed, and with his arm snug around his wife, climbed the stairs to their bedchamber.

He secured the door behind them while his wife walked to the fireplace and warmed her hands in front of the flames.

“You’re chilled,” he said, standing behind her, rubbing her arms, his first concern her well-being.

Honora turned and held out her hand. “I found this where your father was killed.”

Cavan studied the bit of scrap she placed in his hand. It appeared unidentifiable, and he shook his head. “What is it?”

“A button, before Champion finished chewing on it.”

Cavan’s eyes turned wide and he took a closer look at the object. “There aren’t many who wear buttons in the clan. Ties and fastenings, yes, but buttons?” He shook his head. “I see them occasionally on travelers who pass by and particularly on merchants.” He held it up. “You know who it belongs to, don’t you?”

She nodded.

Cavan could see her reluctance to tell him in the way she bowed her head and tried to avoid his eyes. She seemed ashamed, and that troubled him. What connection could she have to the button?

The thought hit him like a blow to the chest, and he blinked away the vivid image as he whispered harshly, “This button belongs to your stepfather.”

“Yes it does,” she admitted. “I noticed he was missing one when he approached your mother the other day.” She sighed, then reluctantly continued. “He is also good at inciting doubt in people. A few chosen words and suggestions perfectly placed and he’d have people believing the worst.”

“Why?” Cavan asked, shaking his head. “Why would he want to kill my father?”

“I asked the same of myself. I believed him satisfied once I was wed, but I recalled how adamant he had been about the marriage documents stating that I was to wed the next laird of the clan.”

“Which you did, thanks to his persistence,” Cavan said, bending over to steal a kiss and press his cheek to hers. “I am grateful to have you as my wife and I do not want you to think that any of this is your fault. This is all Calum’s doing. He used you as a means to an end, but what that end is, we must find out.”

“I thought, for a brief moment, that you might think me responsible.”

“Is that why you froze not far from the door of the keep?”

She nodded. “With a bit of reasoning, I realized it a foolish thought, though the disgrace of my stepfather’s actions lingers.”

“Do not attach yourself to his shame. It belongs to him and him alone. You are an innocent in all of this, a pawn in his game; a game we must learn how to play if we are to win.”

“How do we make sense of it?” she asked, befuddled.

“I believe the wisest way is to keep an eye on him for a while.”

“You don’t plan to confront him?”

“Eventually, but right now this button,” he said, holding it up, “is the only thing we have that may connect him to the murder. Calum has also disappeared for days at a time and no one knows where
he goes, except for his word that he was busy buying and selling wares to other clans.”

“But we don’t know for sure that he does.”

“No, we don’t. We have no knowledge of where Calum truly goes when he leaves here or who he has befriended.”

“You will have him followed?” Honora asked.

“Yes, I plan on putting my two best warriors on his trail, and I will discuss this matter with Artair and Lachlan so we have as many eyes on him as possible.”

“What of your mother?” she asked.

“I think it best that she not know of this right now. She mourns my father’s passing every day, and I have no doubt that if she knew the identity of his killer, she would gut the man herself.”

“I agree. Your mother is hurting very badly, and I believe she would love to make the culprit suffer even worse.”

Cavan ran the back of his hand along his wife’s warm cheek. He loved to touch her; she was so soft. Sometimes he loved just holding her hand, the warmth of her skin, the feel of her slim fingers locked with his, and seeing the love that sparkled in her lovely violet eyes filled him with immense pleasure. His heart hurt just thinking of life without her.

“I do not want you going off alone until this matter with Calum is settled. I do not trust him, and while I believe you have learned to adequately defend yourself, your stepfather does not
play fair. If he did, he would have never been able to kill my father. I will not see the same fate for you. So give me your word that you will not go off alone.”

“I give you my word.”

He was relieved that she had not hesitated or argued with him. She respected his wishes and would do as he asked. Her willingness to oblige him, trust him, made him love her all the more.

“That means more to me than you will ever know.”

“Then know that I will always honor my word to you. I will not lie or play you for a fool, for I love you too much to disrespect you.”

“You can count on the same from me.”

“Of course I can,” she said with a slight smile. “I know you well, and know what you will say or do before you do it, and I am aware of what you don’t say but will eventually.”

“You know too much about me,” he accused playfully, for her words had moved him more than he wanted to admit. She had all but told him that she knew he loved her. She didn’t even question why or how he would
eventually
declare his love for her. She simply knew, accepted it, and was satisfied for the moment.

He did not know if he would have felt the same way if the situation were reversed, but he doubted he’d be as generous. He’d probably demand that she confess her love for him, and do it often.

She pressed her cheek to his. “I know all I need to know.”

He kissed her then, a subtle taste that tempted them both, skimming the edges of passion and suggesting a more savoring flavor. They did not wrap their arms around each other and their hands remained at their sides, yet the kiss continued, deepening and intoxicating.

Cavan relished the taste of her, and while he ached to touch her, knew it would be a mistake. They would then wind up in bed for the next couple of hours, and he had duties to attend to, his brothers to speak with, warriors to command.

He reluctantly moved his mouth away from hers, resting his forehead to hers. “I have matters to attend to.”

“You certainly do,” she said breathlessly.

“We can’t do this now.”

“Are you sure?” she asked with a disappointed sigh.

He wanted to growl, grab her and…

“I want you,” she whispered, and nipped playfully at his ear.

“Honora,” he warned with a low growl.

She moaned. “I love when you say my name with such passion.”

“I must see to my duties.”

“Bedding me is your duty,” she said with a breathless sigh. “We can be quick.” And she took his hand and tugged him to the bed.

She was right. It would be quick because he felt as if he were ready to explode from the want of her. And when she fell on the bed and slowly spread her legs, inviting him, he lost all reason.

He claimed her quick and hard, like a man in dire need. Or was it more like a man in love? They finished as fast as they started, though with the most unexpected, breathtaking climax he’d ever had, and he grinned, realizing that love would always be like that with Honora—unexpected and satisfying.

They both descended the stairs a while later, to find Artair and Lachlan in the great hall.

“We need to talk,” Cavan said when he and Honora reached them.

“You’re feeling better?” Artair asked Honora.

“Shouldn’t you rest?” Lachlan chimed in.

“I feel fine,” she said. “Cavan will explain it all to you while I go see if Addie would like to share a soothing brew with me.”

“It is good you spend time with her,” Lachlan said. “You have been a balm to her since father’s passing.”

“So has Champion,” Artair said. “The dog refuses to leave her side.”

“Which reminds me,” Honora said, her smile growing. “Champion has two sisters who would be perfect for each of you. I’ll bring them to the keep later.”

“No,” both of them shouted, but Honora waved them off as she hurried to the kitchen.

Both men eyed their brother. Artair was the first to speak up. “We don’t need—”

“Or want—” Lachlan tried to finish.

Cavan held up his hand. “That’s between you and Honora. I have nothing to do with it.”

“But—” Lachlan said, attempting to protest again.

“I will not listen.”

“You won’t because you know it’s a losing battle,” Lachlan complained. “Honora will force those dogs on us.”

Cavan laughed. “She won’t force, you’ll simply surrender.”

“Like you?” Artair teased.

Cavan thought about their quick tryst only moments ago. “I gladly surrender to my wife.”

The three men laughed, then retired to the solar after Cavan told them that they must talk.

Silence soon followed when his brothers learned that Calum was responsible for their father’s death. Plans were laid out, two loyal warriors decided upon to follow Calum’s every move, and a promise made between the three brothers.

“We do not rest until father’s killer is punished and Ronan is returned home,” Cavan declared.

Artair and Lachlan joined hands with him and the pledge was sealed; even if it took years, even if one of them should die, or two of them, whoever was left would see that the promise was fulfilled.

The three brothers left the solar solemn but satisfied with their agreed upon plans, for they knew that none of them would rest until the promise saw fruition.

Honora entered the great hall as the brothers did, and Artair and Lachlan attempted to hurry off while Cavan stood grinning, knowing his wife would not let them escape unscathed.

“Good, you’re finished. One of you can accompany me to the stable to get the pups,” she said skirting the tables to hurry to her husband’s side and give him a peck on the cheek. When she reached him, she whispered, “They know?”

He returned her peck to answer, “They know, and no one blames you.”

Honora smiled at both anxious men. “I can see that you both are eager to have a pup of your own.”

Lachlan made the first protest. “I have enough females to contend with. I don’t need one who will never leave my side.”

Cavan grabbed his wife around her waist and held her close. “I like the one that never leaves my side.”

“Then you take the pup,” Lachlan complained.

“I think Lachlan should accompany you to the stable,” Cavan said with grin.

“I agree,” Artair said. “Let him choose first.”

“I’ve already chosen for you both,” Honora informed them. “Unless, of course, the pups themselves have a preference.”

“Let Artair go first,” Lachlan said

“No,” Artair protested.

“Enough!” Cavan laughed. “Lachlan, you go and see that my wife is kept safe, while Artair and I go talk with the men.”

Lachlan didn’t hesitate; he walked off with a chatting Honora. Cavan knew that once he’d presented it to him as a duty to protect his wife, Lachlan would gladly do as instructed.

He would have felt safe with either of his brothers
protecting Honora. It might have taken him some time upon his return to trust and confide in them once again, but once he had, it was as if they’d never spent time apart. They had even begun to ask him about his capture, and little by little he told them about it, and had begun to heal. Of course, his wife had played the biggest part in his healing, and continued to do so. She was always there for him, always willing to listen, always willing to love him, no matter what.

The winter wind whipped at his face when he and Artair left the keep.

“A storm brews; we will see snow by nightfall,” Artair said. “It is good we place trackers on Calum now, for if he should leave before we had the chance, the snow would make tracking him difficult.”

“Agreed,” Cavan said, though the promise of snow also had a bright side, for it meant more time spent indoors, and he intended to spend that time making love with his wife as often as possible.

And finally doing what he should have already done—tell Honora how very much he loved her.