by Caroline Lee
At the sight of her, both Liam and the Queen relaxed with a sigh.
Court stalked across the room and gathered both Mellie and Rosa in her strong embrace. Before Mellie even had a chance to return the hug, Court had already stepped back and sent a brisk nod in the Queen’s direction.
“Nae sign of the murderer; Ross is still leading the search. We’ll find the bastard who did this.” She scowled. “Took plenty of bollocks to murder a man right here in the palace, nae matter he was doing us a favor.”
Her lips twitching at the vulgarity Court was obviously too agitated to realize she’d used, Queen Elizabeth nodded. “As Rosalind pointed out, it’s certainly very convenient.”
Court’s glance at Lachlan was telling, and Mellie hurried to defend the man she loved. “Lachlan didnae give the orders, nor did he kill Gillepatric, Court. The Queen believes in his innocence.”
The tall woman turned an incredulous expression toward Mellie, so Rosa leaned forward, and in that calm way she had of keeping her team connected, said simply, “She loves him.”
Court’s countenance shifted to confusion, and then to Mellie’s surprise, she flushed.
Mayhap this warlike Angel really had found love with Ross Fraser!
Before Mellie could question her, Court rolled her eyes and huffed.
“So no’ the laird. Fine. Who else?”
Before they could re-hash their non-existent list of suspects once more, Rosa spoke up, saying, “Tell us of yer mysterious savior, Mellie.”
When Mellie turned, her brows drawn in confusion, Rosa clarified.
“In yer initial report, ye said another man stepped up to help defeat the cutpurses this afternoon.”
“Aye.” With a brisk nod, Mellie made short work of describing the battle, and the blond man who’d appeared in time to save them. She finished with, “And ‘tis no’ the first time we’ve seen him. Ye recall our confrontation in the alleyway before I left Scone?”
The three Angels—and the Queen—were grouped together now, their heads bent. Court was frowning, of course, but Rosa nodded.
“Aye, I filled Courtney in when she returned.”
“Including the part about him asking after her?”
Court hissed. “Nay, she left that part out.”
Under her dark skin, Rosa flushed, but met her friend’s eyes defiantly. “I didnae want to worry ye, no’ until Mellie returned.”
“Rosalind,” Court growled in warning.
Mellie was the one to lift her hands in peace. “The man was the leader of the cutpurses who were trying to steal from Lachlan—two men who were among the attackers today, I might add. All three of them admitted to being members of the Red Hand, although the stranger indicated they were nae longer supposed to be thieving.” She swallowed and met Court’s eyes. “He said he was looking for ye. He said he’d tracked ye as far as Scone Palace, but couldnae get inside.”
In the years they’d worked together, the three of them had garnered more than a few enemies, but none of them had caused the sort of fear which now leeched Court’s face of color.
Blindly, she reached out for support, and her friends were there to grab her arms and hands and lower her onto a stool.
Once seated, Court didn’t release Mellie’s hand, but instead, gripped it even tighter. “Tell me,” she commanded in a hoarse whisper. “Tell me what he looked like.”
Mellie sunk to her knees beside her friend, knowing of the fierce hope and fear which must be warring against each other in Court’s heart. She knew what her fellow Angels suspected.
“He was tall and somehow familiar. Blond hair, rather on the longish side. Well-built, and he carried himself regally, though he was dressed in simple clothes and wore nae clan colors.”
Court’s stare drilled desperately into hers. “Gray eyes?”
When Mellie nodded solemnly, Court let out a noise much like a groan as she doubled over. “Cam! Oh, Blessed Virgin, Cam!”
Mellie extricated her hand from Court’s grip to reach around her shoulders, attempting to hold her up the same way she’d held the still-weeping Isla a short time before.
But she should’ve known better. Her friend was stronger than her grief.
When Court suddenly straightened, it wasn’t tears in her eyes, but determination, as she twisted to find Mellie. “Cam sent me away to save me, and now he’s looking for me. Before we killed him, Andrew said Cam had left the Red Hand to find me, but I never, ever thought he’d discover where I was.” She took a deep breath. “I have to find him. When all this is done, I have to find him again.”
Knowing how much the man meant to her, knowing how he’d all but raised Court, and that she considered him a brother, Mellie squeezed her friend’s shoulders.
Cam’s betrayal had almost broken Court all those years ago, but if she’d discovered new information—he’d sent her away to save her?—it might explain her new feelings for Ross.
Mellie glanced over at Lachlan, where his head was bent over his mother’s as he spoke soothingly to her, and remembered how she’d thought he’d known the stranger when she’d first seen them in the alley.
But despite their similar builds and eye color, Lachlan had been surprised to see the stranger again.
But the stranger…?
Remembering the man—Cam’s—reaction this afternoon, Mellie slowly pushed herself to her feet, her hand still on Court’s shoulder, and met Rosa’s eyes.
“Today, Cam recognized the Fraser plaid. When he learned Lachlan was the laird, he kenned his name.”
Court grunted. “He was always good at reconnaissance. Likely, he’d just learned the Fraser’s given name.”
Mellie shook her head, trying to grasp why the man’s reaction had been so strange. “When he discovered who Lachlan was, he acted as if he’d been burned, so quickly did he leave. As if he’d seen a ghost almost.”
As Mellie had known it would, this new piece in their twisted and confusing puzzle caught Rosa’s attention. She hummed thoughtfully and tilted her head back.
“Cam…” the youngest Angel whispered. “Cameron? Is it possible…?” She took a deep breath and turned her attention to the pair sitting on the bench at the other side of the room. “Is it possible Courtney’s Cam is really Cameron Fraser? The missing son? The one whom Andrew Fraser followed all those years before?”
A feeling of certainty began to build within Mellie.
She helped Court stand, but maintained her hold on her friend.
“Cameron Fraser,” Mellie repeated in a low voice.
Court nodded thoughtfully. “He was always nobler than all of us put together, although he did his best to forget it and learn the thieves’ code. I remember the other lads teasing him, calling him laird, until he grew big enough to beat them all, and they finally stopped.”
Rosa was still staring at Isla Fraser, who had lifted her head to stare back. “She’ll have to be told, Court. Yer past with him needs addressing, but she’s his mother. If Cameron Fraser still lives, she must ken it.”
Before any of them could respond, the older woman’s tear-stained face broke into a wide grin, and a crazed laugh burst from her lips.
Chapter 15
God’s Wounds!
His mother’s moods would never cease to confuse him!
Her madness had begun close to fifteen years ago, after her youngest son’s disappearance.
She’d been difficult since then, but this…?
This was something new.
Her clinginess, the hysteria…he’d never seen her this bad before.
And when his mother threw back her head and burst into great, heaving laughs, he knew her mind had officially, and likely irreversibly, broken.
Holding her upright, despite the pain in his shoulder, Lachlan’s gaze sought out Mellie’s, and was surprised to see her staring at his mother with something akin to fear in her expression.
Why would a woman—who’d killed a man today to save their lives—be so afraid of Isla Fraser�
��s madness?
Unless something else had her worried.
“Cameron!” His mother’s laughter had subsided into odd hiccuping sobs. “My Cameron!” she cried with a smile, even as tears rolled down her cheeks.
When she threw herself against Lachlan’s chest again, he realized she was calling him Cameron and closed his eyes on a brief prayer.
God in Heaven, have mercy on her!
Losing her youngest son had been bad enough—all the saints knew Lachlan himself had taken years to recover from that loss—but to only just discover Andrew’s death must’ve been like losing them both all over again.
And the attack on Lachlan, the same day of Gillepatric’s murder, must have simply been too much for her to comprehend.
And now she thought he was his dead brother.
“Cameron, I kenned ye’d come back to me!” She was patting his cheek as she rocked against him. “After all I’ve done for ye, I kenned ye werenae dead! Yer uncle kept ye safe all these years, my lad, did he no’?”
To his surprise, it was the dark-skinned lady, one of Mellie’s friends, who pulled his mother away, wrapping her arms around the older woman’s shoulders and helping Isla to her feet.
“Come, Lady Fraser,” she murmured, offering Lachlan a reassuring smile, “let me help ye to yer chambers. I have much to tell ye, now that ye ken yer Cameron lives.”
Frowning, Lachlan watched them shuffle out of the room, the younger woman all but holding up his hysterical mother.
Why would the lady claim Cameron was still alive?
Was she simply wise to what would calm his broken mother and allow her to get some much needed rest?
Lachlan cursed his daft wound and the subsequent weakness for preventing him from going after the pair, his protective instincts still on high alert. But when he met Mellie’s eyes and saw the worry in them, he knew he couldn’t leave her when she looked at him that way.
As soon as his mother stepped out of the room, those remaining seemed to exhale as one.
Mellie exchanged a glance with the tall woman beside her, then hurried to his side. Not that he was complaining—he grabbed her hand and pulled her down to the bench beside him as soon as she was close enough—but he hated not understanding events going on around him.
“What is it, love?” he asked gently, before she was even fully seated.
When she lifted her fingernail to her lips, he then knew she was nervous about whatever was going on, and mayhap even nervous to tell him what it was.
So he squeezed her hand. “Mellie,” he growled. “Tell me.”
At his command, she sighed and dropped her hand. “Cameron. Cam. It’s him.”
She was making about as much sense as his mother..
He frowned.
Cam…?
The name tickled something in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t quite grasp.
Cam…?
Cameron?
Had anyone ever called his brother Cam?
But something must’ve shown in his expression, because Mellie was nodding. He lifted his head to suck in some much needed air, and was startled to find the others gathered in a semi-circle in front of them.
Mellie gave his hand a light squeeze, then said, “Courtney was raised by the Red Hand, Lachlan. The man she knew as her brother, the man who ran the criminal organization, was named Cam. He’s the one who ye met in the alleyway, all those weeks ago. And the one who saved us today.”
Flashes of memories lit the space behind Lachlan’s lids: the stranger’s tight frown; his familiar gray eyes; the easy smile when he’d mentioned Lachlan’s punch.
The look of terror on his face when he’d realized Lachlan’s name.
“He’s yer brother, Lachlan,” Mellie whispered, sorrow in her expression. “Cameron is alive.”
Recognition slammed into him, and he knew she was right.
“Cameron’s alive?” he whispered, his eyes going wide as more memories threatened to overwhelm him. Memories of a boyhood twenty years past, of laughter and pranks and pain he’d thought long buried. And fifteen long years of sorrow. “All this time…?”
My little brother is alive?
The churning in his stomach—part guilt, part joy—worked its way up his throat, and he wasn’t sure if he was elated or nervous about this new revelation.
But why was Mellie still looking at him with such sadness in her lovely blue eyes?
Because he’s the one behind this plot, ye clot-heid!
“Cameron has been running the Red Hand, and Uncle Andrew was with him,” he stated, lifting his gaze to hers, then glancing at the Queen. “All of yer evidence points to a Fraser behind the treason, and I ken naught of it.” He met Mellie’s eyes once more. “Ye think Cameron is guilty? Even though he saved our lives today?”
“He saved our lives, before he kenned who we were,” she reminded him gently.
God’s Wounds, all the hints!
All the familiarity and the similarities and—
Lachlan cursed, remembering how he’d known the stranger’s fighting moves, before he’d even made them.
Because the same man taught us both: Uncle Andrew.
The Queen folded her hands in front of her. “Am I to understand we have identified the guilty Fraser?”
The bodyguard—the one who hadn’t spoken a single word, up ‘til now—cleared his throat. “The Angels’ investigation has laid the fault on the Frasers’ of Lovat. I kenned Ross was innocent of the suspicion, but if ye’ve determined the laird is as well”—he nodded to Lachlan—“then the laird’s younger brother, who led the Red Hand for years, and who Andrew Fraser would ken well, is our only remaining suspect.”
Queen Elizabeth was frowning thoughtfully as she addressed Lachlan. “And what would his motivation be?”
Helpless, Lachlan shook his head. “I— I donae ken, Yer Majesty. Our father had nae love for yer husband, but Cameron ran off long before Robert was ever made king. Why would he harbor our da’s hatred throughout these last fifteen years and do naught ‘til now?”
Mellie swung her head towards her tall friend. “Court, ye said Andrew of Lovat had been at Cam’s side all these years, aye?”
The woman—Court—tapped her bow against her thigh as she nodded curtly. “ ’Tis possible that the man soured Cam’s mind in the years since I’ve seen him, but—”
“Mayhap he wants the lairdship,” Liam interrupted. When Court turned to frown at him, he shrugged, his hand resting easy on the hilt of his sword. “Nae one kenned he was even alive. Mayhap his intention was to lay the blame at Lachlan’s feet, then take over the clan after the execution?”
Lachlan’s eyes narrowed, his throat constricting at the thought of a traitor’s death, despite his certainty that Mellie believed his innocence.
The Queen hummed. “ ’Tis an elaborate scheme, and a dangerous one. Court, would Cam—the man ye ken as a brother—order my death?”
Court’s response was a pause, then a reluctant shrug. “I cannae say, Yer Majesty. The man I kenned wouldnae, for all that he was a thief. But he sent me away seven years ago. ‘Tis been long enough for him to change, I suppose.”
“Long enough to turn into this degree of evil?” Mellie asked skeptically.
When Court shrugged, Lachlan caught Mellie’s gaze, and knew she was thinking the same thing he was. The man who’d saved them today, the man who’d chuckled easily about Lachlan’s punch, the man who’d seemed anguished as he looked for Courtney in the alleyway…hadn’t seemed evil.
How could a man order his monarch’s death, yet save two strangers’ lives?
How could my brother do such a thing?
To Lachlan’s surprise, the Queen took one of Court’s hands in her own, and her voice was gentle when she said, “I understand, dear Courtney. You’ve only just forgiven him for his actions, thanks to what you learned on your recent mission. And to discover him a traitor so soon after…”
The tall woman—who looked so much like a warr
ior—seemed to melt under the Queen’s regard. Court stared down at their joined hands, but her voice was hard, when she muttered, “I’ll ask him when I find him,” and it sounded much more like a threat, than a promise.
The bodyguard glanced at the door, just a moment before the dark-haired Angel slipped back into the room and sent a small nod to Lachlan, letting him know his mother was safe in her chambers with her maids.
“Excellent timing, Rosa,” the Queen complimented, as Court straightened and pulled her hand back. “We were just discussing my Angels’ next mission.”
“Finding Cam,” Court confirmed in a cold voice. “Not to thank him, but to discover the truth.”
“Ye think he’s the one who killed Gillepatric?” Rosa asked.
Court expression remained hard and unforgiving. “He’s our only viable suspect for the whole damnable plot.”
Suspect.
Not so long ago, Lachlan had been in that same position. And now…?
Now, he was going to lose Mellie.
The Queen of Scotland had just given Mellie a mission—a mission to track down his own treasonous younger brother—and he knew the Queen’s orders were more important than any vows of love he may share with Mellie.
Mayhap Mellie guessed the same, because without looking at him, her hand tightened around his.
“But…”
At the warning in the Queen’s voice, he dragged his attention away from his love.
“You will not be going, Melisandre.”
Slowly, Mellie stood, her hand slipping out of his grip. “Yer Majesty?”
“Court and Rosalind will be tasked with hunting down this Cameron Fraser and obtaining the needed answers. You, my dear, will have your own mission.”
Was this going to be better or worse than knowing she’d be tasked with locating his brother to answer for his crimes?
The band squeezing around Lachlan’s chest made it difficult to breath.
Or mayhap it was only his fresh wound.
“What would ye have me do?” Mellie straightened her shoulders, but Lachlan could hear the pain in her voice when she stood before the Queen. “I owe ye my vow, and my verra life, Elizabeth. Say what ye need, and I’ll follow yer command without question.”
