Kilted Sin: Brethren of Stone

by Andresen, Tammy

  He did not appreciate this woman’s complete lack of respect but damn it all to hell if she didn’t have a point. She was already doing the work of several people. “Please begin heating the water for a bath,” Will said. “I’ll carry the buckets upstairs myself.”

  “What do you want me to do with them?” She waved her arm toward the children again.

  He couldn’t do anything today. He was near frozen and tired as hell. He’d have to figure it out tomorrow. He grasped the letter in his hand. Hopefully it had some answers. “Prepare the room next to mine for them to use.”

  Mrs. Cleary’s eyebrows went up but the woman didn’t reply other than to turn and begin pumping water into the buckets.

  He heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, she’d stopped talking.

  What he didn’t know how to do was stop the voices in his head. He looked down at the matching pair of blue eyes that stared up at him. On the one hand, he couldn’t be responsible for these children. On the other, he was a Sinclair. Would Stone turn children away?

  Carrying the water upstairs, he dumped it into the tub and then poured himself a full snifter of whisky. Sinking into the hot bath, he took a large swig of his drink. What a day it had been.

  * * *

  Gemma sighed as she sat down to breakfast, smoothing out the fresh pleats of her skirt. One benefit to being a laundress was that she could make nearly any piece of clothing look like new with a hot iron.

  She’d carefully arranged the folds to cover any worn sections of the fabric.

  Last night, while she’d taken a hot bath, she’d been rather pleased with herself. For once, she’d taken the upper hand in an interaction with a man.

  Gemma knew she was attractive. Not that it had ever done her a bit of good. Hell, her looks had landed her with a waste of a husband. Then, when he’d gone, having been a married woman, other men in her village had felt it appropriate to suggest all forms of lewd behavior to her.

  The problem, she supposed, as she lay in bed, a warm, safe bed, was that the laird she met yesterday hadn’t been inappropriate in the least. In fact, he’d been rather…gentlemanly under the circumstances.

  William Sinclair.

  A handsome one, her naked laird. Well, he wasn’t hers. No man was hers. Or would be ever again. Louts, the lot of ‘em.

  Still, an image of William flashed, clearly bringing back the memory of him standing, freezing cold and completely naked, in front of her. She shuddered. No matter how she felt about men, she didn’t want to see that particular man dead. She’d grown desperate, not having eaten in more days than she’d like to count.

  Still, that fact didn’t really justify what she’d done and neither did her dislike for all men.

  She left the inn, then made her way down the narrow streets, knowing exactly where she was going. She’d passed the small wooden sign announcing the offices of McLean and Phillips when she’d rode into the village of Munlochy the night before.

  The horse she’d stolen was a fine animal. Gemma would have to find a way to return the beast and the money once she understood how much she’d inherited. Provided William had survived his plunge into the icy water.

  Her stomach churned again. She should be nervous about seeing the magistrate. That’s what she’d travelled all this way for.

  Instead, her thoughts continued to turn about William Sinclair.

  Finally, she came to the little wooden sign she’d seen the day before. It squeaked on its hinges as the wind whipped down the street. Her skirt blew about her ankles and pieces of her hair swept out of the neat twist she’d pinned at her nape.

  Taking a breath, she stared up at the sign. This was it.

  Finally, she’d get some answers about what had happened to her husband.

  Straightening her shoulders, she reached for the knob, the brass cold even through her glove.

  She’d expected to have to pull the door, but suddenly, it was twisting in her hand and swinging open toward her. She stepped back, shifting her gaze up to see who came out.

  Her breath ceased and her heart stopped in her chest.

  William Sinclair stood before her. Alive, dressed, and holding a small child. His eyes narrowed even as his lip curled. Hellfire, she was in trouble.

  Her heart stopped in her chest as her mouth fell open. Damnation. She’d committed one sin, theft, and she was already being punished.

  Chapter Three

  That siren of a woman stood before William her mouth hanging open. She snapped it shut and lifted her chin. He clenched his jaw as he assessed her. Had she been pretending to be surprised? Most likely. Just as she’d pretended yesterday to catch him off guard. “You,” he ground out, holding Ewan a little tighter.

  “Me,” she squeaked, taking a step back.

  He grasped her elbow with his free hand. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “We have some talking to do.”

  He didn’t have time for this, really. Drawing in a deep breath, he realized that wasn’t entirely true. He needed his horse to make the rounds about the properties. He wanted to learn each man’s business so that he could make them more profitable. Add labor where it was necessary to ensure a successful crop. He had a staff on the verge of mutiny and he had two children that Mr. McLean had just confirmed were not his.

  He’d read the letter, which had directed him to the lawyer for any information he might need. The damned thing had referred to them as child girl and child boy, they hadn’t even used their names nor had the nuns given them a single detail about the children themselves. No wonder Fiona didn’t want to return.

  Fiona and Ewan weren’t sired by the old laird. They had belonged to one of the crofts within his property. The orphanage was past capacity and indenturing children as a means to clear beds. Since their parents had been under his jurisdiction, the orphanage was giving him first right of refusal on taking on their room and board in exchange for their labor. The magistrate, Mr. McLean, had informed him that criminals and orphans alike were being sent to the West Indies for farming labor.

  He wanted to toss up his breakfast. Ewan was only two years old. His sister only four. How could the magistrate allow them to perform hard labor in a foreign country?

  He hoped Fiona hadn’t understood the conversation. He should have left them at home but Mrs. Cleary had other duties to attend nor could he trust her to treat the children kindly.

  Will looked down at the boy in his arms and he gave him another squeeze. Ewan’s sweet face turned up to Will, his pudgy cheeks tightening in smile. Will’s chest tightened. Would they even survive the journey? Never mind the labor that awaited them? Returning them to the orphanage would be writing their death sentences.

  Fiona tapped his hip from her spot next to him. “She’s pretty,” the little girl gushed, staring up at Gemma.

  He licked his lips as he assessed Gemma again. Pretty, but dangerous and extremely unpredictable. “Aye, she is. But don’t be fooled by her beauty,” he said, then turned back to the red-haired minx before him. “Where’s my horse?”

  He watched her swallow. The delicate column of her neck trembling as her muscles worked. Ah. So she did have a conscious after all.

  “In the barn in town,” she said. “I was going to return it.”

  “Sure you were,” he answered as he began tugging her toward the barn. “And my money. Were you going to return that?”

  She gave a loud sniff. “As a matter of fact, yes.” Then she tried to tug her arm out of her grasp. “I need to see Mr. McLean. I give you my word I’ll return your funds to you after I’m done with my meeting.”

  He stopped walking then and spun to face her. Damn it all to hell if he wasn’t aware of just how beautiful she was. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked back at him, her parted lips soft and supple. They begged to be touched. “Good idea. We can go to the magistrate’s office and he can apprise ye of yer rights as a horse thief. Did ye ken it’s a hangin’ offense?”

  He heard her gasp. Watched as all colo
r drained from her face, leaving her cheeks pale. Her arm, which had been stiff under his fingers, went slack. He was not going to let her fool him again. It was an act. Her head lolled to the side and then her knees buckled.

  His muscles tightened to hold her weight. The bloody woman was going to faint.

  Will only managed to keep her from dropping like a stone by going down with her. He couldn’t let go of Ewan so his options were limited. And though she’d left him half-frozen the day before, he couldn’t let her fall completely. He wasn’t sure why—she deserved to hit the ground like a sack.

  But once all three of them were on the ground, he realized his mistake. He’d pulled her into his chest, and her head tucked under his chin. As he bent down, he caught a whiff of her hair, which smelled distinctly of his favorite floral scent…lilac. Her silky strands tickled his nose. He inhaled again, and her body melted into his.

  “Fiona,” he said, turning to the girl. “The wagon is just down that alley. Be a dear and fetch it for me.”

  She gave him a glowing smile. “I’m verra helpful ye know.” Then the child bounced off to do as he bid.

  He shook his head. Ewan reached up and grabbed Will’s ear, giving it a good tug. He turned to the boy. “I couldn’t leave ye with Mrs. Cleary. She’d quit. But do ye have to insult me by trying to remove my ear?”

  The boy gurgled and smiled, tugging all the more as Will sat in the dirt with a strange woman pressed against his chest.

  He let out a long breath. What the bloody hell had happened to his life and how was he going to fix it?

  * * *

  Gemma woke, and sighed with contentment. The bed was soft and the fire warm.

  Who had stoked it? The staff at the inn?

  Opening her eyes, she blinked, not recognizing her surroundings. She tried to make sense about what was happening because this was not her room.

  Her fists clenched in front of her face. Where was she and how had she gotten here?

  She had a vague memory of waking, eating, and leaving for the magistrate’s office but then the world went a little fuzzy. Uncurling her fingers, she rubbed her forehead with her hands, the memories slowly filtered back in. William Sinclair…the magistrate’s office…hanging.

  Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as her fingers shook. Peeling back the covers, she became aware of several circumstances all at once. Most importantly, she only had on her shift. Where were her clothes? She needed them to leave this place immediately. Sinclair hadn’t brought her to this room to feed and warm her, that was for sure.

  He’d threatened to have her hanged.

  Swallowing hard, she glanced around, scanning the room for her clothes. No luck in finding them. She stood, then stepped away from the bed to search for her dress or even her shoes. Voices in the hall had her running and diving back under the covers, her heart racing so fast she thought it’d leave her chest.

  “She did what?” a woman’s voice asked.

  She peeked out of the covers a little to better hear. Was that his wife? Were the little ones with him his children? No wonder he’d been so resistant to her seduction yesterday. Though he’d been about to cave. Men, all the same.

  “She pushed me into the loch when I was about to swim and then stole my horse and my pants,” Will answered.

  She recognized his voice’s low, deep timber. A shiver of need raced down her body settling in her loins. She gritted her teeth. The attraction she felt toward him was the last emotion she needed.

  “Why did ye bring her here then? Turn her into the authorities,” the other woman responded.

  “Thank ye for the advice, Mrs. Cleary,” he replied curtly.

  She heard the woman huff. “It’s not as though ye’ll take it. Or run this house with any sensible course.”

  “Likely not,” he answered and then the door swung open. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he’d go away but a moment later, he called, “Yer awake, I see.”

  “Barely,” she replied, pulling the covers higher. “Where am I?”

  “My home,” he responded.

  She still hadn’t opened her eyes but she heard the scrape of furniture as he dragged a chair across the room. The wood creaked as he sat down.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “I have a proposition fer ye,” he said.

  “No,” she said, sitting up and opening her eyes while still clutching the covers to her chest. He sat leaning back in a wooden chair, one arm draped down the back. The position only seemed to emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and how his chest tapered into lean hips and muscular legs. She’d seen that body, it rippled with muscle. Her throat closed and she swallowed to clear it.

  “Ye haven’t heard it yet.” He arched his brows.

  Grudgingly, she nodded. She didn’t have a lot of options. Never a situation she wanted to be in. One of the only ones she had now was to listen.

  He cleared his throat. “Not only did ye steal my horse. Ye managed to take every last loose bit of coin I had.”

  Inwardly she winced. How could that be true? “But yer a laird.”

  “I’ve only just purchased this fine mess, I won’t bore ye with the details. But the housekeeper and the cook are all the staff I’ve left. I can barely feed them, let alone pay them or anyone else. What I am offering ye is a chance to work off yer debt.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She’d be damned if he thought to use her body. “I’m no one’s whore.”

  His eyes widened as he stared at her. “What is it with ye and all the sexual suggestion? That isn’t what I’m asking at all.”

  She coughed, nearly choking. It was her turn to stare. Had he just accused her of being overly interested in coupling? “What is it with me? What is it with the entire male race?”

  He leaned forward in his chair. She watched as his muscles rippled and bunched with the movement. All right, she could confess, at least to herself, that she might be a bit more keen on the idea of relations in this man’s presence. In fact, yesterday, stealing his horse had been a fair bit easier since she didn’t have to pretend to be interested in him personally.

  “I can’t speak fer all men,” he rumbled. “Only fer me. Let me be clear. I am not trying to take advantage of ye or anyone else. I only want what ye owe me and, since ye can’t just pay it back, I’ll need to be repaid in labor.” He took a breath. “I need someone to help a bit around the house. But mostly I need ye tae take care of the children.”

  “Excuse me?” He wanted her to be a nursemaid?

  “I’ve only got two staff. They can’t care fer them. Until I can figure out what tae do with them, they need someone tae look after them.”

  Her mind must still be fuzzy because this simply didn’t make sense. “What will I have tae do wit’ them?”

  He took a deep breath through his nose, his jaw clenched. “Can we not go into lengthy explanations now?”

  “Fine,” she answered. She didn’t want to ken anyhow. “The answer is no. I’ve already returned yer horse. As soon as I see Mr. McLean, I’ll get you your money back.”

  William sat back in his chair. His raised his hands to his face and scrubbed it several times. “What’s yer name?”

  “I told ye, already. It’s Gemma McLaren.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Well, Gemma McLaren. I didn’t want tae have tae do this but yer not leaving me much choice.” He leveled her with a stare, his supple full lips thinning. “Either ye nanny the bairns or I turn ye into the authorities fer horse thieving.”

  Her gasp cut across the room. “You can’t be serious.” She gripped the covers about her chest. “Ye don’t have a very high opinion of me, why would ye want to put me in charge of your children?”

  “Unfortunately, I am serious.” He gave his head a small shake and then rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I didn’t expect to have two little ones dropped on my door and I’m fairly certain ye’ll be a great deal better at caring fer them then where they’ve just come from. I’ve no money
and no time and a whole lot of people depending on me to keep their families fed.” He stood then, towering over her. “Do ye accept, Gemma McLaren?”

  Chapter Four

  Will looked down at her, her wide green eyes and white-knuckled grip on the blankets making her look terribly vulnerable. He ignored the tugging in his chest that said he was the devil for doing this to her.

  “Do I have a choice?” she answered softly as her voice quivered and her lips trembled. Damnation, she’d better not cry. He might renege if she did.

  “Not much, I’m afraid.” His gut clenched. He could call this whatever he wanted. Necessity. Looking out for the welfare of children. Trying to keep all the people on his lands fed. But what he’d just done was blackmail. Granted, she deserved it. But still, forcing a woman into his employ didn’t sit well.

  He took a deep breath, ignoring the urge to swallow down the lump rising in throat. What would his brother Stone think?

  What would his brother Blair say? Blair lived on the neighboring property. At some point, it was bound to come up. This mad idea could jeopardize his goal of living up to the Sinclair name forever. His brother would never forgive him for forcing a woman to work for him.

  He shook those thoughts aside. He had to deal with what was right in front of him. A debt that needed to be paid and children that had to be cared for. “If ye steal anything in the house, I’ll turn ye in. No questions asked.”

  Her jaw hardened and she dropped the covers, her back stiff. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I ken ye steal horses. And I ken ye’ll leave a man near frozen.” He leaned down a little then. He understood her anger, he supposed. Hadn’t he been feeling guilty? But to hear her say that, made his chest tighten and his fists clench. Which was what he needed. He couldn’t allow Gemma to slip past his defenses as he’d nearly done yesterday. “Let me tell ye a little something about me. There are over a hundred crofts on this property. I need to oversee the seeding, the irrigation, find buyers for their barley, and then arrange for shipment of their product. Until it’s done, I’ve almost no time and no money. And that is with five hundred mouths to feed. I’ve cut every non-essential staff member I can and now I’ve got three more people who’ll need to eat.” He pointed at her. “I don’t have time to think about what’s fair tae ye or hear about how yer really a lovely person. What I need to ken is are ye honorable enough to work off yer debt?”