The Seduction of Laird Sinclair

by Kara Griffin

  His shoulders rose with his hefty breath. Even though his cousin’s words praised him, Callum was disturbed by her admiration. “At one time, I cared. But nay, the bairn wasn’t mine. Who was the father? Did she tell you that?”

  Hawisa sighed heavily and shook her head. “Even on her deathbed, she swore to take it to her grave and wouldn’t name him,” her words were spoken with hostility and she appeared to want to say more. “I tried to get her to confess.”

  Why would Hawisa care who Lydia was with? The conversation troubled him, but he needed to give it thought before he questioned her further. Callum gripped her arm and jerked her forward. “I am Dela’s da and no one will tell me otherwise. You are banned from the keep. Stay away from my daughter.”

  “Who will care for her if not me? Do I not get thanks for doing so since her cow of a mother died? None stepped forward but me, and this is how you show your gratitude?” Hawisa huffed.

  Callum released her and stepped back. Did she have a reason for her apparent care? He shook his head because whatever Hawisa’s reason, it was for her benefit, not Dela’s. Without an answer, he marched toward the keep. The tenseness of his conversation with Clive and Hawisa tightened his shoulders and chest.

  He hastened to his bedchamber and sat on the side of the bed. Violet appeared to sleep, and he didn’t want to awaken her. As much as he wanted to spend the night loving her, he was filled with contention. He sighed wearily and thought to sleep elsewhere. She touched his back and he turned toward her.

  “Callum, you’re here. Come to bed.”

  He grated a sigh. “I cannot.”

  She clasped his hand and pulled him to lie next to her. “What troubles you?”

  He closed his eyes and tried to refute the impasses of the night. “Naught but family discord. I doubt I shall sleep this night and have much to consider. Go back to sleep.”

  “Let me help you forget them, at least, for a little while. We need not speak of the matters if you don’t want to.” She held open her arms and he settled next to her.

  No one had ever been as patient or concerned for him. Her gentle nature eased him, and Callum couldn’t help but feel more connected to her. The discontentment abated as soon as her lips touched his. He spent the night doing what he hoped. Violet distracted him for a good bit of time with her sweet body. Their connection was assuredly sensual, but there was more to their wanting than pleasure. Her acceptance did more to allay his tension. The way she looked at him without abhorrence and the way she touched him gave him a sense of belonging.

  Callum tried to ease the pain in his shoulder and leg. Violet noticed. She retreated from the bed and pulled on her nightrail. He was about to ask her why she would leave him when she leaned over him and smiled.

  “I shall return shortly. Don’t move from that bed,” she said and hastened through the door.

  He waited for what seemed like hours for her return. Callum closed his eyes and tried to settle himself. But questions riddled him with confusion. Until he figured out the mysteries of his family discord there would be no peace.

  Violet returned with a large pail that steamed. “Lay back.”

  “What are you about?”

  “You’re hurting. This should help.” She wrung out a cloth and placed it over his shoulder. “The warmth should ease you for a bit.” Violet took another cloth, wrung it, and set it over the scar on his thigh. “You’re almost out of the medicinal Henry sent. You should have your healer make you more.”

  Callum’s muscles relaxed with the heat of the cloth on his wounds. He smiled slightly because no one had ever taken care of him with such tenderness. “I don’t know what’s in it.”

  “I shall send a missive to Henry’s healer. She’ll tell me or she’ll send more.”

  “You are acquainted with her?”

  Violet pressed another hot cloth on his leg and nodded. “Yes, she was also my husband’s healer. I’ll write to her immediately.” She removed the cloth from his thigh and slid her fingertips along the inside of his leg. Their eyes met, and she leaned forward and kissed him. “Lay back,” she said and set another hot cloth on his leg.

  He waited for her to settle next to him and pressed her back upon the bedding. “Do you know how bonny you are? I want to spend the night in your arms.”

  “When you hold me, my fears flee and I feel courageous enough for the both of us.”

  “My thanks.” He set a loving kiss on her lips.

  Violet cuddled beside him and yawned. “For what? It’s no hardship to write to the healer.”

  “Nay, for taking care of me. No one has ever…” Callum could get used to her tender care.

  “Did your wife not show concern when you ailed? The way you speak, tells me she didn’t.” She patted his chest and remained beside him.

  “Nay, we didn’t see each other much. She spent most of her time here at the castle. I stayed in our cottage.” Callum scowled in the darkness. Lydia spent more time at the castle than she had at their cottage. He wondered if it held significance to her adulterous behavior. Was her lover someone who stayed at the castle? He shook his head as he considered that, because she wouldn’t be as brazen to be with someone close to him, would she?

  Violet appeared to sleep and her breath lightened. She closed her eyes and placed her hand over his abdomen.

  He continued to hold her and didn’t want to ponder the questions that riddled him muddled. Try as he might, he reiterated the events of when he left, about Gavin’s murder, Hammond’s disappearance, his uncle’s discord, and Lydia’s deceit. Whether the events were connected or not, confounded him. Somehow, he’d figure out the tangled mess and get his answers. He’d begin on the morrow and wouldn’t relent in his search for understanding of all the matters that plagued him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Violet hurriedly dressed and left the chamber she shared with Gussy. Gussy always rose before her and hailed off to who knew where. She suspected her friend was in the kitchens and would stop there to have a word with her. A cold chill hit her in the hallway, and she pulled a shawl around her shoulders. She peered toward the corridor’s end, where the open door afforded light. She shivered and ran her hands over her arms to warm herself. Someone left the door open. Violet approached and was about to close it when she spotted Callum’s grandmother standing by the low wall of the rampart. She stepped outside and shook as the frigid breeze seemed to go through her.

  The views held her in enthrall. As far as she could see the water glistened from the sunshine, and was turbulent as the waves swished this way and that.

  “Good day,” she said and stepped near.

  “Ah, there you are, lass. We haven’t met yet. I’m Mor, Callum’s gran. He’s told me about you.”

  “He hasn’t mentioned you, but I’m pleased to meet you.” She dipped her knee a few inches and bowed her head.

  “My lad has much on his mind these days.”

  “He certainly has.” Violet stood next to the woman and gazed about the land. “It’s beautiful out here. I’ve never seen such a sight.”

  “Sinclair land has much beauty and as much danger. Take heed of my advice, lass, for there are perilous bogs, wolves, steep hills, and cliffs. One needs to watch their footing on our land.”

  “I thank you for the caution and concern and have already experienced a few mishaps. Perhaps I need to be more careful.”

  Mor smiled. “Aye, indeed you do. Dela sings your praises and says you’re kindhearted. You’re sweet to look after the lass, and after my lad.” She turned and faced the wind and her cloak’s hood fell back. Her long grayed locks blew with the wind’s force. She was a striking woman with lovely light eyes, and a few wrinkles to show her age. At one time, before they faded with age, her eyes must have been bright and winsome. The woman wasn’t thin, but she wasn’t hefty either. She stood as tall as her shoulders.

  Violet folded her hands and tried to keep the wind from moving her. How the woman stood erect against the gale, she coul
dn’t fathom. But she held out her arm and the woman took hold. “Last eve, Callum was dismayed. I know not how to help him, and it hurt seeing him so torn. I wish there was a way to ease him.”

  Mor kept her face toward the sun and nodded. “Family discord has him ensnared. Questions plague him for which he may never get the answers. I fear it will be his undoing. We must do what we can to support him.”

  “We?” Violet was uncertain if that was possible. Callum would tell her nothing more than he was bothered by family woes. She wished he shared his troubles with her because at least she’d listen and allow him to voice his worries. The look in his eyes deeply concerned her. All she could do was hold him and offer a little comfort. “I understand he’s now the laird and is responsible for many.”

  Mor gripped the stone to steady herself when a gust of wind hit the rampart. “It’s more than that,” she continued and told her of Callum’s brother’s death, his wife’s passing, and the contention with his uncle and cousins. “Betwixt us, we must find a way to get him to accept the fate he’s been dealt.”

  Violet’s shoulders tensed at the weight of Callum’s problems. “None saw who killed his brother?”

  “Nay and I hoped my lad wouldn’t be troubled by his brother’s death. My grandson was a vile man who took advantage of his position. His mother, my sweet daughter-in-law, probably turned in her grave at his behavior. It appears Callum won’t be content until he finds out the truth. The truth might give him more dread than he desires.”

  “I worry about him.”

  “As do I.” Mor waved her hand about. “The land will aid in his quest and give him the answers he seeks and will solace him, eventually. I hope he accepts the truth with an open heart. If not, it could bring about more difficulties, and mayhap even the end of the Sinclairs.”

  “How will it end the Sinclairs?” Violet wondered if the woman was maddened or if she was a wise woman who received enchantment. She’d heard of such women but never met one in person before. There was talk in the village near her home of a woman who had such gifts, but she’d never taken the time to meet her. If she’d had a need, she might have sought her out for guidance. She wished she had now because she might have foretold of Charles’s death and the dismay of losing Cora.

  “When the time is right, the stones and sky will call to him. If he asks you to go with him, you shall appease him?”

  “I will certainly try. Come, we should get inside. It’s too windy out here.”

  “You’re a good lass to show kindness to me and Dela. She hasn’t had an easy time of it, losing her mother the way she did, and for a time, her da.”

  “No, she hasn’t. I’m going to get her outside this day, and hopefully bring her a bit of joy. We shall tend to the castle’s garden. You’re welcome to join us.”

  Mor smiled. “I may attend, but these old knees haven’t knelt on the ground in years. If I do come, I shall be content to watch. Thank you, lass, for inviting me,” Mor said when she took her arm and helped her inside.

  Violet closed the door and set out to find Dela. She and Mor reached the hall. The child wasn’t inside the keep, or at least, where she’d searched so far. She reached the garden and surveyed the ground. If she wanted to get started, she needed tools. The ground was still a little hard and needed more than her hands to cultivate the land.

  Clive rounded the keep and stopped by her side. “Milady, good morn. You’re up and out a wee bit early this morn.”

  “Good day, Clive, you’re just the person I need.”

  He flashed a grin and stood with his legs braced by the low-lying wall. His naked knees were at her eyes sight and she turned away. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need tools to dig and take up the soil in the garden to ready it for planting. Where can I find such tools? Will someone lend me a pitchfork or spade?”

  “I’m certain we can find something to help with your task. I’ll ask Bailey, the cook, if you can borrow his. He keeps a small garden behind the kitchen. I’ll go now.”

  Clive left her, and she walked the length of the small field. Violet envisioned her design and where and what she’d plant. Once the lane was set and the plants arranged, she’d find a bench to situate in the center, so she and Dela might sit and enjoy the surroundings.

  A strange sense came and the eeriness of being watched. She peered around the castle and to the wall beyond the cottages. None seemed to take an interest in her. She heard the strange word again ionnsaigh, and Frang ran at her, but he didn’t growl. Before he reached her, he stopped and rolled onto his back. The dog moaned as if he begged for a treat.

  “There you are, boy. I haven’t seen you in a few days.” She dug in her seam and took out a piece of dried meat she’d saved for him. Violet knelt and patted his head. “You’re not ferocious at all, are you?”

  “Good day, Lady Danvers. I see you’ve won over my dog.”

  She turned to find Hawisa behind her. Her presence startled her, and the pout on her face was just as formidable. Violet couldn’t shake the sense of fear that tensed her muscles, but she tried to abate it and pretended indifference.

  “Good day, Hawisa. He has a fondness for dried meat. I don’t know why he attacked me, but I deem we might become friends.” She patted the dog again and gave him another piece of meat.

  “Hmm, perhaps. He’s a traitorous beast.” Hawisa scoffed. “The hound doesn’t like anyone but me. I should apologize for his misbehavior.”

  But she didn’t. Violet should be skeptical of the woman’s fabricated kindly words, but she always tried to find the good in people. Perhaps Frang’s attacks were not motivated by his mistress as she’d considered. There was still the wrongdoing to Dela to account for though. Violet was certain she hadn’t mistaken the girl’s words, or Hawisa’s intent to harm the child.

  “I had hoped you would take your midday meal with me. We haven’t had time to get to know one another.” Hawisa smiled and snapped her fingers to bring Frang to heel.

  “I should like that.”

  “We will be close friends while you’re here for your short stay. I should plan a welcome feast for you as well, and have been remiss in my duty.”

  Violet raised her brow at her emphasis of the word short. Did Hawisa know something she did not? As far as she was concerned, the Sinclair holding was her home for the time being. She sat on the low stone wall and brushed dirt from her fingers. “Don’t go to such trouble. We’ll dine together and perhaps discuss Dela.”

  A quick scowl crossed Hawisa’s face before she replaced it with a smile. “Aye, Callum’s lass can be vexing and troublesome. We should discuss what’s to be done with the minx. I’m happy to help any way I can. Let me go to the kitchen and ask for a special meal. I shall meet you in the hall in a few hours.”

  “I will see you then.”

  Hawisa left her and minutes later, Clive returned with a few tools. Dela came outside and they spent the next two hours readying the soil for planting. After two lanes were thoroughly etched and the design set, she placed the pitchfork aside. Their faces and hands were dirty, and likewise so were their garments. But they’d had fun and being outside brought brightness to the girl’s cheeks. She was disheartened that Mor hadn’t joined them.

  “We should get cleaned up. I must go.” She remembered she needed to meet Hawisa and hastened inside. “We shall wash for the midday meal and you should take a rest.”

  “Can we come outside later?” Dela asked.

  “Of course, we shall. Perhaps we’ll even plant a row of seeds or take a long walk.”

  Dela held her hand, skipped along, and they entered the keep.

  Gussy reached the hall at the same time they did. Violet untied her cloak strings and set the garment over her arm. “Where have you been? I meant to stop in the kitchen to see you, but I got distracted.”

  Her friend’s smile reached her eyes. “I was helping Bailey get the late meal prepared. Let me get Dela cleaned up and tend to her this afternoon. You’ve been
busy, I see, and brought most of the garden inside with you.” She laughed and motioned to her soiled clothing.

  “Oh gracious, we must look a mess. Thank you. Dela needs to be cleaned up and she could use a bit to eat, and then a rest afterward. I must hurry.” Violet rushed to her chamber, washed, and redressed.

  Until Hawisa showed hostility, she’d try to befriend her. It was the least she could do since she was Callum’s cousin and part of his family. He’d want her to be friendly, and Violet wanted to win her friendship. At the very least, she’d find out what the woman was up to.

  She returned to the hall and found Hawisa already at the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I stayed in the garden longer than I planned and needed to clean up.”

  “Sit with me. Cook made a delicious stew and the bread is soft.” Hawisa waved to the bench across from hers.

  “I haven’t seen Callum this day. Do you know what he’s about?” Violet missed him and she’d only been apart from him for less than a day.

  Hawisa filled her bowl and set two pieces of bread on her trencher. “He left early this morn and probably won’t return for a few days. At least, that’s what Clive told me.”

  It was peculiar Clive hadn’t mentioned that to her when she’d seen him in the garden.

  “Callum likes to be away from the keep. He never stays long. Once, he left for three years and when he returned, he wasn’t content at all. He pressed Gavin to give him the leadership of the soldiers, just so he could be about the land.”

  “I hoped he would join us.”

  “We don’t need men to ruin our meal. I haven’t had the company of a woman at the keep since poor Lydia died.”

  “You’re forgetting your grandmother.” Violet thought it discourteous of her.

  “Aye, my grandmother. But she doesn’t usually attend meals with me or show affection. She’s a cold-hearted woman. Heed my advice to stay away from her, because I deem she’s lost her mind.”

  “Oh, I met Mor this morning. She seems kind.”