by Caroline Lee
The Thief’s Angel
Caroline Lee
About This Book
Lady Rosalind Forbes is an integral member of the Queen’s Angels—an elite trio of spies disguised as ladies-in-waiting—and is the brains of the group. However, she’s keeping two secrets from her teammates; one which could endanger their current mission, and one which will certainly jeopardize her very place as an Angel.
Cam Fraser used to be the son of a laird, a man with a place. But now he’s just a thief and a leader of cutpurses. On a mission to find the woman he betrayed many years before, his search leads him back to his ancestral home, where he encounters a dark beauty, whose touch he can’t forget.
Can a brilliant Angel and a charming thief manage to work together to discover who is behind the devious attempts on the King and Queen’s lives? Or will Cam become the scapegoat everyone’s looking for to punish for those heinous crimes?
It’s a race against time, and not only are the King and Queen’s lives at stake, but so is Cam’s. Rosa knows all three of their fates rely on her, and her ability to see what others may not.
As for Cam, Rosa will either be his strongest ally…or his most powerful enemy.
Check out this fast-paced finale to the series everyone’s talking about!
Other Books by Caroline Lee
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The Highland Angels
The Bruce’s Angel
The Highlander’s Angel
The Laird’s Angel
The Thief’s Angel
Steamy Scottish Historicals:
The Sinclair Hound
The MacKenzie Regent
The Sutherland Devil
The MacLeod Pirate
Sensual Historical Westerns:
Black Aces (3 books)
Sunset Valley (3 books)
Everland Ever After (10 books)
The Sweet Cheyenne Quartet (6 books)
Sweet Contemporary Westerns
Quinn Valley Ranch (5 books)
River’s End Ranch (13 books)
Click here to find a complete list of Caroline’s books.
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Copyright
Copyright © 2020, Caroline Lee
[email protected]
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
First edition: 2020
This work is made available in e-book format by Amazon Kindle at www.amazon.com
Printing/manufacturing information for this book may be found on the last page
Cover: EDHGraphics
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
AUTHOR’S NOTE On Historical Accuracy
The Pirate’s Angel
Other Books by Caroline Lee
For the brains of the operation, the team’s nerds, who delight in the never-ending acquisition of knowledge.
Because…
Omnia dicta fortiora si dicta Latina.
Prologue
“Do ye really think he’s guilty?”
Lady Rosalind Forbes had been staring out the window of the small solar, but her friend’s whispered question jerked her out of her contemplation.
When she turned, Court was watching her with such anguish, such confusion in her eyes, Rosa didn’t have to ask who she meant.
There was only one man she could mean.
Cam—Cameron Fraser—was the man who had raised Court, treating her the way a cherished older brother might.
He was also the one Rosa had damned.
She dropped her gaze to her hands clasped in front of her and gave her friend her shoulder.
“Aye,” she said simply, allowing her own sorrow to seep into her voice, “there’s nae other logical explanation.”
Cameron Fraser was guilty of treason.
Rosa knew her mind worked differently, and she could see the forgotten details.
Nay.
Nay, she couldn’t actually see them, could she?
But Deus enim per singular: God is in the details.
She had the ability to understand things not everyone else could; and the details, the clues, all added up to point to a Fraser of high standing.
It wasn’t Ross Fraser; Court had vouched for him.
And Mellie’s investigation proved Laird Lachlan Fraser was likewise innocent.
That only left Lachlan’s younger brother, who’d been missing for years.
Cam.
Court cursed and smacked her open palm with her bow. “I’m going back out to look for him.”
Rosa nodded and risked a glance at her heartsick friend. “That is likely wise.”
All three of their team had been out looking for the man since he’d saved Mellie’s life. Now that they knew he was here in Scone, and that he was the mastermind of the plot against the King and Queen, they were determined to hunt him down.
As her fellow Angel turned to leave the small room, Rosa reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “Court—”
Courtney had never been overly emotional, but her eyes were angry when she switched her gaze to Rosa.
Dropping her hand away, Rosa sighed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didnae mean to hurt ye.”
“Oh, Rosalind,” Court said in a low voice. Then she sighed and reached forward, wrapping Rosa in a strong hug. “I’m no’ angered at ye. I’m angered at him for doing something so stupid. I thought he had honor.”
There was nothing Rosa could do except hug her friend in return and pray, when they caught, tried, and executed Cameron Fraser, her friend wouldn’t be too devastated.
“I’m going to find him,” Court stated again, as she pulled away, her expression determined. “I’m going to find him and beat his arse.”
There was the Court she knew.
Rosa’s lips twitched as she nodded. “Aye, and I’ll help.”
Gesturing at the low-cut gown Mellie had found for Rosa, Court frowned. “Are ye going out looking like that?”
With a sigh, Rosa tried to pull the neckline up higher. “Ye ken Mellie’s sense of humor. She thinks dressing me as a whore is hilarious.”
If she were honest with herself, Rosa didn’t mind the disguises too much.
She might not act the whore, but it was a boon when it came to getting close to men. They underestimated her because she was so small.<
br />
Her dark skin often drew some attention, but as far as her being dangerous—since she didn’t look strong enough to squash a bug—she was often dismissed.
But she was strong enough to squash a bug—and larger creatures too—and Rosa had learned to accept the boon of her suspects’ underestimation.
Court nodded firmly. “Funny it may be, but remember to use yer weapon if ye get into trouble.”
Instinctively, Rosa touched the place on her inner wrist where her steel lengths rested, ready to protect herself. When Court saw her movement, she nodded once more, in approval this time.
“Good hunting to ye, Rosalind.”
There was no joy in this search.
Rosa sighed. “Good hunting, my friend,” she repeated grimly.
The Angels had their mission.
Chapter 1
Scone, 1320
The touch was so slight, most men wouldn’t have noticed the wee hand darting into their purses as they paused among the foot traffic waiting to cross the street.
Cam wasn’t most men.
With a wry grin, his hand darted around and clasped tightly onto the wrist of the young pickpocket, dragging the small body up and forward. “There’s naught for ye in there.”
The child—only a few years younger than Cam himself had been when he’d started picking pockets—began to struggle and curse. Cam retaliated by lifting the dirty urchin higher.
“Ye’re a lass?” her dark hair hung in straggly hanks around her face, and the filthy tunic she was wearing might’ve been a dress.
“What of it?”
Her foot lashed out, catching him in his knee, but he didn’t release her. Instead, glancing about, he dragged her to the shadows of the warehouse they stood beside mainly to get her out of the way of the dockworkers and fishmongers, who were pushing their heavy carts up and down the street.
The wharfs along the River Tay were a busy place, and dangerous for a man who didn’t know how to keep his money close and his wits about him.
Reaching relative safety, he yanked the urchin before him again, forcing her up on her tiptoes as he studied her: Cheeks sunken with hunger, hair and clothes smelling and appearing as though they hadn’t been washed since Hogmanay…but her eyes weren’t quite sharp enough, bitter enough. Here was a lass who hadn’t always had to steal for her food.
But there was desperation in those eyes right now as her struggles grew frantic, and Cam understood. She had no way of knowing if he planned on hurting her in retaliation or turning her over to the watchman…or worse.
His jaw tightened. He knew all about the or worse options a child this young could encounter.
“What’s yer name?” he barked.
Her chin came up mulishly. “What’s it to ye?”
He shook her slightly. “I’m going to let ye go, lass, but not afore I teach ye a lesson.”
Her dark eyes widened in terror at his words, and he stifled a sigh, realizing how it must’ve sounded.
While she was busy being distracted, he reached under his tunic and groped for the hidden second purse which hung from his belt, and pulled out a coin.
“Tess,” she blurted, and he nodded encouragingly, easing his hold on her just enough she could stand comfortably, but without letting her go.
“Well, Tess, I have a lesson for ye.” He held up the gold coin between the last two knuckles of his first fingers, the gleam catching in the sun, even here in the shadows.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes following the coin, and he knew she’d likely never had a prize this valuable.
“If I give ye this, what will ye do with it?” She darted a glance at him, and he saw the hesitation in her eyes, as she tried to guess the answer he sought. “Will ye give it to yer thief-master? Allow someone to take it off ye?”
Her jaw stuck out mulishly, and her shoulders hunched in on themselves. “I’ll bring it to me mam. She’s the one who needs it. No one else would ever ken about it.” Her angry eyes flicked to his once more, then away, peering into the shadows as if looking for danger. “But I’ll no’ whore for it, if’n that’s what ye’re wanting.”
If it was what he wanted, there was little a scraggly ten-year-old could do to stop him. With a sigh, he released her, and she darted back. But as he’d expected, she didn’t go far. Not with the promise of that gold coin sparkling between them.
“Tess, if ye’re caught again, by a man so much larger than ye, kick him in the bollocks. Then, if he doesnae release ye, when he’s bent over, aim for his nose. A man with sense will drop whatever he’s holding to keep from suffocating on his own blood.”
Frowning, she shifted her weight, obviously torn between running off and humoring him. “Why would ye tell me that?”
“Because I told ye I’d teach ye a lesson.”
With a flick of his wrist, the coin disappeared, the sleight of hand causing her expression to fall. But then he clapped his hands together, and just as quickly, the coin reappeared between the fingers of his other hand.
She scowled.
He grinned.
“And yer lesson, Tess, is that there are some prizes worth fighting for. If ye have a plan for this coin, don’ let anyone take it off ye, aye?”
Her little tongue darted across her dirty lips as she kept her eyes on the gold. “Aye,” she whispered.
“And if someone bigger than ye tries to take it—or yer body, which is verra much worth fighting for—ye kick him in the bollocks and scream like hell. Ye understand?”
Her eyes had gone wide, drifting back to his face. Mutely, she nodded.
When he flipped her the coin, she grabbed it out of mid-air and bolted away from the docks.
Cam watched her go, his thumbs hooked in his belt, and wondered if he’d just caused more harm than good.
Did her mother really need the coin, or would the lassie turn it over to some ham-fisted master thief?
Someone like me?
With a sigh, he turned back along his original path and continued weaving his way through the sailors and merchants, all smelling of fish or tar, and money. The gold coin he’d given Tess would be easy enough to replace—not all men kept their purses hidden—and the sword he carried on his hip would deter any trouble.
Seeing an apple-seller kicking at the front wheel of his cart, Cam snatched a ripe fruit from the back and waited a few paces before biting into it.
There’d been a time when he’d been uncomfortable in a city like Scone, uncomfortable around this press of humanity and noise. He’d been raised a laird’s son, one who liked to hunt and fish and ride. When he’d left, he’d managed to find a new home among the bandits—a group called the Red Hand—who occupied a stretch of woodland.
And then he’d become their master, collecting their takes, and distributing goods and favors. He’d sat in the center of his web and had done his best to lead his men with a firm hand, solid wisdom, and honor.
Even though they were a bunch of thieves.
With a smirk, he took another bite of the tart apple, his amblings taking him farther from the waterfront. His men knew he wouldn’t tolerate rape, and any man who raised a hand to a child would have that hand removed. Whoever Tess’s master was, he hoped the man treated the lassie with the same respect, or she’d be forced to learn some harsh lessons.
The same lessons Court had had to learn.
Suddenly, the fruit didn’t taste quite so pleasant, and he tossed it away with a muttered curse.
Court.
The lassie he’d met when she’d been younger than Tess. The lassie he’d helped raise. The lassie he’d come to love as a sister.
The lassie he’d sent away when she’d started causing difficulty among his men.
The guilt still ate at him and explained why he’d learned to live so effortlessly in Scone. He had semi-respectable lodgings and connections, despite the way he gained his coin, and spent his days searching for information on her.
And he’d come close to finding her.
&n
bsp; “Gangway! Move it!”
The cry came from behind him, and he stepped aside, even as he twisted his head to see the haggard-looking man standing on a brewer’s cart slap the reins hard against his horse’s flank. “Outta the way!”
Deciding he didn’t need another confrontation, Cam ducked into an alley and watched the heavily laden cart trundle on to its destination. With a start, he realized he’d wandered into the better part of the city, and the palace wasn’t all that far away.
He propped his arse against the rough boards of the shop behind him, rested his booted foot against a crate, and scrubbed a hand over his face.
Court.
She was in there, in that palace, somewhere. That’s all he’d learned, all he had to show for the year he’d been there trying to find her.
When he’d discovered her whereabouts, he’d been thrilled to know she wasn’t dead…but now it seemed as though she may well have been, as the distance between them felt almost as far away as Heaven would be.
Had she found another thief-master?
One who cared about her as much as he had?
Was she safe, or had she ended up dancing for the hangman, as she’d come so close to doing at least once before?
Ye’ll never get yer filthy claws into her again, ye Red Hand scum!
The woman’s whispered threat—accompanied by a knife at his throat—haunted him still.
Weeks ago, he’d caught a few of his men stealing, instead of keeping watch as he’d commanded, and when he’d intervened, their victim had seemed strangely familiar to him. Cam had asked the man for help finding Court, and the unseen female assailant had whispered those words to him from behind.
