The Sutherland Devil

  The Sutherland Devil

  Sinclair Jewels

  Book Three

  Copyright © 2019 Caroline Lee

  Kindle Edition

  Published by Dragonblade Publishing, an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Caroline Lee

  The Sinclair Jewels Series

  The Sinclair Hound

  The Mackenzie Regent

  The Sutherland Devil

  The MacLeod Pirate

  *** Please visit Dragonblade’s website for a full list of books and authors. Sign up for Dragonblade’s blog for sneak peeks, interviews, and more: ***

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  Amazon

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Caroline Lee

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The Sinclair laird was ailing, and his daughters could tell, despite his blustery attempts to hide it. He sat in the large chair in his solar, the same as always, but his face was pale, and his hands gripped the wooden arms, as if to keep them from shaking.

  “Ye’ll be married to the MacLeod lad, and that’s the end of it! I’ll hear no more arguing,” he growled, glaring at the twins in front of him.

  Unconsciously, Saffy plucked at the threads of her kirtle, glancing at her sister. Of the two of them, the middle of the Sinclair sisters, Citrine was far braver. Or mayhap, just more foolhardy. She stood now, her hands on her hips, her foot tapping as she frowned fiercely at her father.

  “Nay, Da, I’ll no’ marry some boy when ye clearly need me here!”

  Saffy did her best to hide her wince, knowing Dougal, the Sinclair commander, was watching stoically. Her twin never backed down from a confrontation, but Da clearly wasn’t up to arguing. Besides, it’s not as if they hadn’t known this was coming. Da had already married off his oldest and youngest daughters. The twins were the only ones left.

  Their father labored to pull himself forward, the glare he was sending Citrine reminding Saffy very much of his old self. “I do no’ need ye here, girl! I’m yer laird and father, and if I say ye’re to marry for the betterment of the clan, then ye’ll do so!”

  Citrine stomped her foot. Actually stomped her foot like a child, which just showed how much she’d lost control. “Da! Ye’re ill! Ye cannae ask me—”

  “’Tis naught,” the older man said, looking exhausted as he sank back in his chair. “I’ll be better in nae time.” He cocked his head slightly, studying the two of them. “But ye’re good daughters to worry so. I’ll no’ send ye away yet.”

  Behind him, Dougal made a noise of disapproval. Saffy’s eyes flicked to the large man, who glared at the two of them with his arms folded across his chest. He was Da’s right-hand man, and always had the Sinclairs’ best interest in mind. But she couldn’t remember him ever staring at her or one of her sisters with such disgust before.

  Da might believe this illness was naught, but he lacked the strength to even glare at his commander. “Ye think I made the wrong decision, Dougal?” he asked mildly.

  “Aye,” came the growled response. “Ye coddle them. Citrine’s duty is to strengthen the alliance with the MacLeods, and I’ll be happy to be the one to drag her to her wedding, if ye cannae.”

  Saffy actually backed up a step at the threat in the man’s voice. Since Da had started on this mission to see his daughters married, Dougal had been an enthusiastic supporter. Did he really care so much he’d force Citrine to go?

  But where Saffy was cautious, Citrine was daring. She strode toward the desk. “Ye think ye could drag me somewhere?”

  Dougal lowered his arms. “There’s nothing ye could do to stop me, lass.”

  Citrine was a fair hand with a sword and bow, but Dougal had been the one to teach her what she knew, and he was probably right. Saffy was already moving to pull her twin back when Da spoke.

  “Enough.” He winced as he rubbed his stomach, and all three of them turned to him in concern. The old man waved away their stares and pulled himself upright once more. “Citrine will marry, but when I say. She is a loyal Sinclair, a good daughter, and a proud Jewel. Aye?”

  Citrine’s shoulders heaved as she tried to calm her breathing, and the muscles in her jaw twitched. Saffy reached out to take her twin’s hand, offering what support she could.

  “Aye, Da,” Citrine finally ground out. “I’ll follow yer orders.” Her glare moved to Dougal. “But no’ yet.”

  When she turned to stalk out of the room, Saffy kept a tight hold on her hand, leaving herself no opportunity to curtsey or take her leave. But it didn’t seem to matter, the door slammed shut behind them, and Citrine continued her angry walk until they reached their own chamber.

  “Can ye believe that man?”

  Saffy released her sister while she sank down on the big bed. She and Citrine used to share it with Agata and Pearl, until they’d been married only a short time ago.

  “We expected this, Citrine,” she said softly, part calming, part regretful.

  Da hadn’t mentioned anything about a marriage contract for her. While she wasn’t sure if she really did want to go off to be some man’s wife, the not knowing was worse. During the winter, Da had announced he’d be looking for marriage alliances for his four daughters, the Sinclair Jewels. Agata, the eldest, had already been married and widowed by then, but Da announced Pearl’s contract first, to the Sutherland Devil.

  The man was twice wee Pearl’s age, and rumored to be cold-hearted and vicious, caring naught for the bastards he’d spawned from here to Edinburgh. It was no surprise Pearl—who, as the youngest of the Jewels, had the closest connection to the Sinclair clan—had refused the marriage contract and instead demanded to be allowed to take holy vows. Da had reluctantly agreed, and despite Dougal’s insistence on escorting Pearl—the way he’d demanded to escort Citrine today—had assigned his most loyal bodyguard to the task.

  Saffy nor her sisters knew exactly what happened on that adventure, but Pearl and the Sinclair Hound had returned very much in love, and were now married. In fact, judging from the number of times the two of them had slipped away to the loch, she could very well be carrying Da’s first grandchild.

  Then, even before Pearl had returned, Agata found her marriage contract with the Mackenzies. It had been a shock, since her intended was the brother of her first husband. But her most recent letter was glowing and full of love…and news about the sisters’ quest.

  Aye, Citrine was the one who was most devoted to finding out what had happened to the missing Sinclair jewels—the clan brooch which was said to grant power to the laird—but Agata had done her part. And as the scholar among them, Saffy was just as excited about the possibility of solving the ancient riddle as the news her twin would be married before her.

  Although, it must be nice to be wanted.

  Over by the window, Cit
rine had halted her angry pacing and stood with her fingers laced behind her head, staring out at the summer landscape. If Saffy was known as the scholar, and Agata the lady, and Pearl the helper…then Citrine was the firebrand.

  And if she wasn’t burning right now, then this was a smolder.

  “Citrine?” Saffy prompted carefully, not sure if she wanted to know what her twin was thinking.

  “I’ve bought us some time,” Citrine said without turning, her tone speculative. “Da willnae send me away too soon, and I’ll continue to fight against Dougal’s attempts to send me away. But that means I cannae leave.”

  Saffy frowned. “Wait, ye want to go to MacLeod land?”

  Citrine scoffed without turning. “I’ve no desire to marry the second or fourth or ninth son of a laird. My husband will be strong!”

  “Aye, but strength is no’ power.”

  “Spoken like someone who prefers scrolls to blades,” Citrine quipped, turning just enough to smirk over her shoulder.

  “Spoken like someone who cannae manage to get through an entire lesson without dropping her sword.”

  Chuckling at the reminder of Saffy’s ineptness at sparring, Citrine lowered her hands to her hips. “Ye do well enough.”

  “No’ nearly as well as ye.” Her twin’s prowess with a blade was well-known among the clan, and she often trained with the warriors, despite Dougal’s irritation. Da never seemed interested in denying this particular fire-eyed Jewel anything. But the twins’ differences weren’t the point. “But ye said ye were no’ able to leave at all? Do ye want to leave, then?”

  “No’ with him so sick!” Citrine threw herself down on the bench, sprawling in a way guaranteed to make Agata scold, were she there. “Da says it’s naught, but he’s no’ one to sicken easily. And he’s no’ coughing or sneezing or fevered…it’s his stomach.”

  Saffy nodded, having noticed the same thing. “But no one else is ill.”

  “Aye, so we cannae even blame tainted meat…”

  Citrine’s musings were distracting, and Saffy shook her head as she steered her twin back on the right course. “So ye willnae be leaving?”

  “One of us has to.”

  When Saffy met her sister’s golden eyes, she understood. “The jewels.”

  “Aye,” Citrine breathed.

  After Pearl’s departure, the remaining sisters had found a clue to the missing brooch: an ancient tapestry from their grandmother, given to their old nurse for safe-keeping. The tapestry had pointed them to Mackenzie land, where Agata was due to journey. She spent the first weeks of her marriage searching for another clue to the missing brooch, but ultimately found one of the jewels itself.

  Saffy scrambled across the bed and reached beneath to pull out the small chest where they’d stored it. Her notes and scrolls were on the top, and beneath them was the carefully folded tapestry. She sat cross-legged on the coverlet and laid each pile around her, eager to reach the bottom of the chest and the only Sinclair jewel they had.

  The large agate—nigh as big as her palm—was perfectly round and smooth, flecked with gold, just like Agata’s eyes. Their oldest sister and her new husband had followed a clue in an old family saying, and discovered the jewel hidden inside a wooden map of the Highlands…under the space representing the Sutherland holding.

  “Ye think one of us needs to go to the Sutherlands, do ye no’?” Saffy was sure that’s what her twin meant, but needed confirmation.

  “Well, Pearl cannae go!” Citrine threw her hands up in exasperation. “She’s our wee sister—it’s my job to protect her.”

  “Nay, ’tis Gregor’s job now.”

  Citrine rolled her eyes. “Aye, ye’re right. But she’s no’ part of this mission. She’s a wife now, and likely to be a mother soon, judging from the moon-eyed looks the Hound keeps giving her. The Sutherland clue Agata sent was a good one.”

  But scary. Saffy swallowed. “Mayhap we should wait for her to finish her work with the map? She said she’d write again if she found aught else.”

  “Like the rest of the jewels?” Citrine shook her head before Saffy could answer. “They’re no’ there. Were they, she would have found them already.” She leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees. “The tapestry led us to the Mackenzies, where one jewel was hidden. The Mackenzie clue is pointing us to the Sutherlands. Ye ken I’m right, Saffy.”

  Staring down at the large stone in her palm, Saffy had to admit the truth. “Aye.” She took a shuddering breath. “And that’s no’ all.”

  Her twin shifted, excitement evident in her voice. “Ye found something in the histories?”

  Reluctantly, Saffy nodded and looked up, meeting Citrine’s gaze. “Remember, our great-grandsire’s second wife was a Campbell?”

  “Aye, and so was the Mackenzie’s ancestress!”

  “They were sisters.”

  Citrine whistled long and low while she considered the information. “So that would explain how the jewel got to the Mackenzie holding!”

  Saffy bit her lip, unsure if she should volunteer the rest of what she’d found, knowing it would be the final piece they needed. The clue which would send either her or Citrine to the Sutherland holding, where the devil himself held court.

  “Saf?” her twin prompted. “What are ye no’ saying?”

  There was no hiding it. “They had another sister. Who married a Sutherland.”

  Citrine exploded off the bench in an excited flurry of limbs. “Aye!” she yelled, bouncing energetically and swinging an imaginary sword. “That’s it!” She was grinning when she turned back to Saffy, breathing heavy. “Ye’ve found it! Agata’s clue, the Mackenzie saying, the sister connection…” She threw herself onto the bed, grabbing one of Saffy’s hands. “Ye’ve proven that the Sutherlands have the jewels!”

  “Or mayhap just another clue on this chase,” Saffy cautioned.

  Her sister scoffed. “Even if ’tis just another of the jewels, ’twould be fine! Having two of the Sinclair jewels back in the keep would be worth it! Da would—”

  When she bit down on her words, Saffy squeezed her hand, knowing what she had meant to say.

  A clan legend said that with the brooch—the symbol of their power—missing, the Sinclair name was bound to fall. Leadership of the clan could pass to one of the Jewels, but it was rumored that Duncan having only daughters was proof the legend was coming true. There would be no strong sons to take over when Da died…or was too ill to carry on. The sisters suspected that’s why he was so intent on marrying them off, so they’d be safe, but Citrine had never accepted it.

  The legend also said that only the strongest and bravest of the Sinclair warriors would be able to restore the jewels and the clan’s future, and Saffy had often privately wondered if that was why Citrine trained so hard. Would her husband be as accepting of her strange skills as the Sinclairs were? Hopefully, it wouldn’t matter, because the jewels would be found and legend irrelevant by the time Citrine married.

  With even two of the jewels back home, the legend would be proved wrong. The clan would know their future would be strong—whatever the future did hold—and that might be enough. And hopefully, their father’s health would improve.

  “I still think we should tell Da about the agate and the tapestry.”

  Citrine’s response was swift. “Nay! I—” She shook her head and pulled her hand from Saffy’s grip. “I donae ken how to say it. This illness of his is too convenient, too coincidental. I want…” She shrugged as she pulled herself into a cross-legged position, mirroring Saffy’s. “I want to be sure before we present him with what we’ve found.”

  “Ye think…what? That’s he’s been cursed?” Saffy scoffed.

  Citrine shrugged. “That, or poisoned.”

  Gasping, Saffy shook her head. “Donae even hint at that! Who would do such a thing?”

  Her twin frowned, a determined look coming to her eyes. “I donae ken, but I’m going to find out.”

  Citrine couldn’t leave the S
inclair holding, not yet at least. If she left now, Da would see no reason not to send her—and Dougal—to the MacLeods for her own unwanted wedding. And if she did, that would mean she’d be unable to keep a watch on Da’s illness.

  And if she couldn’t leave, the clue to the Sutherlands would go unstudied.

  All signs pointed to the Sutherlands having a jewel, or at least there being another clue at their holding. Relations between the Sinclairs and Sutherlands had been frosty since Da had been forced to call off the wedding between Pearl and the Devil who led the other clan, so they’d be unable to approach this problem diplomatically.

  One of them would have to go there, to find a way to search the keep without giving away their mission. A disguise, mayhap, to ensure the Sutherland never discovered his once-fiancée’s sister under his roof?

  And Citrine couldn’t do it, which left…

  Saffy groaned and threw herself backward on the bed, hoping she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter One

  “We’ve had no luck tracking him, milord. The slippery bastard must be moving his camp.”

  Merrick Sutherland, one of the most feared men in the Highlands, scowled down at his venison. It was prepared the way he preferred, and the wild onions were worth savoring. But it would’ve tasted better had it been accompanied by good news. Or at least silence.

  “I was sure he was hiding in that valley,” he muttered, not wanting the bairns to overhear the conversation. “’Twas the logical place, considering his raids of the last month.”

  His second, Gavin, grunted an acknowledgement as he sank to the bench across from Merrick and reached for a flagon. “But ’tis as I said. He might’ve been there, or thereabouts. If he moved before the rain we got two days ago, we’d have no way of kenning.”

  It was galling, not being out there with his men, searching for the bastard who’d been making life so difficult for the Sutherland. John Lindsay had always been a thorn in his side, believing he had a claim to Merrick’s title…but he was only a nuisance until last year, when he’d surrounded himself with a band of his cursed, Lowlander kinsmen, and begun burning, reiving, and destroying Sutherland crops. His plan was clearly to draw Merrick out, to battle him directly, and as far as the laird was concerned, he’d oblige.