The Thief’s Angel Page 3

  “Rosa? Ye’re no’ still reading the report?”

  At Court’s prompt, Rosa jerked up to meet the concerned gaze of her teammate.

  “Just thinking,” Rosa lied with a bright smile. “With Liam tending to Charlotte and his son—as it should be!—who is in command of the Queen’s Guard?”

  “It should be Murdoch or Tearlach,” Court offered with a shrug, “but since Ross’s return, I think they’re all deferring to him.”

  “’Tis good to have him back, eh, Courtney?” the Queen teased with a smile.

  And—miracle of miracles!—the gruff Angel’s lips twitched upward as well. “Aye, Yer Majesty. ’Tis.”

  Both Elizabeth and Rosa burst into chuckles at the rare sight, and Court rolled her eyes.

  “Well, for the love of the saints, have Ross tell the rest of the Guard that, if there are any more assailants, they’re to be taken alive. I’d like to question them,” Rosa said.

  Court’s quick nod made Rosa appreciate how well her teammates knew of her talents. There weren’t many places where a woman like her could be valued for her intellect, but here at the Queen’s side, she’d found women just like her. Well, not just like her, but women with interesting talents of their own and were putting them to use.

  Court had been raised as a thief by the Red Hand, but after some time spent in the gaol and preparing for her death by the hangman’s noose, the Queen had saved her and offered her a place among the Angels. She was their leader on missions, because she had an understanding of their enemies the others lacked, and also because she was so deadly with her bow. She was the team’s strength.

  Melisandre was their heart. She was a seductress, aye, but more than that, she understood people. She understood how others felt and worked to give them what they wanted. For the five years she’d been an Angel, she’d been the one to, not only keep the peace, but work to help others.

  If Court was the Angels’ strength, and Mellie their heart, then Rosa was their mind. Her skills with weaponry weren’t as advanced as her friends’ skills were, but she could think her way through any problem, and that particular talent had proved to serve them well many times.

  But soon, she’d be significantly less useful, and where would that leave the Angels?

  With a sad smile, Rosa acknowledged Mellie would be leaving them before long as well. In Laird Lachlan Fraser, who they’d assumed had been behind the assassination attempt until just recently, she’d found a man—a good man—who valued Mellie for her heart. She’d always be an Angel of course, but soon, she’d also become Lady Fraser and would be needed at An Torr.

  The knock on the door startled them all, but when Mellie slipped in with a smile, they relaxed. She was one of the few who could enter the Queen’s solar without an invitation.

  “Well? What news do you have?” Elizabeth asked.

  “The man is exhausting!” Mellie said with a gasp, as she slumped into one of the chairs. Somehow, she managed to make even that look seductive.

  The Queen rolled her eyes. “I know Lachlan isn’t ready for that.”

  Mellie winked, then sighed. “Nay, much to my disappointment. But he’s driving me mad checking on his mother and demanding to be let out of bed to hunt for his brother. I vow, the man doesnae ken how to rest.”

  “Lucky ye,” murmured Court.

  “Aye,” Mellie drawled with a wink, “I will be.”

  Rosa interrupted their banter. “How is Lady Fraser?”

  Mellie shrugged. “Ye were the last one to visit her this morn. Her attendants say she’s resting well enough, although when she does wake, she speaks of her son.”

  “Cameron?” the Queen asked. “Or Lachlan?”

  “Cam,” Court corrected.

  It was Mellie who straightened and frowned at their friend. “Court, I ken ye remember Cam fondly, but Andrew Fraser told us his clan is behind the attempts. And he spent all those years with Cam, aye? Lachlan is innocent, so Cameron must be the culprit.”

  Court scowled. “I’ll believe it when I hear him confess.”

  “Have you had any luck tracking him down?” Queen Elizabeth asked.

  Court shook her head. “Ross has men searching the city. And while he’s on duty, the Angels split up to look for him as well.”

  “Lachlan damn near split his stitches trying to join us,” Mellie added.

  Their Queen rolled her eyes. “The man just escaped death in that attack, and he’s ready to throw himself back into danger already?”

  “An attack paid for by Gillepatric,” Mellie reminded her.

  “A Fraser,” Elizabeth snapped back, “who is now dead due to an unknown hand.”

  “An attack which was thwarted by Cam,” Court pointed out, “who saved Lachlan and Mellie’s life. Why would he do that if he’d paid Gillepatric to have his own men turn against him?”

  Queen Elizabeth frowned. “’Tis a puzzle.”

  Rosa nodded, something unknown holding her tongue. Aye, the Angels had gone looking for Cameron yesterday, but she’d actually found him.

  She’d come here today with the intent of telling her teammates about her encounter in the alley with their prime suspect. Well, not everything about it, though Mellie would likely be able to infer enough so Rosa would have to put up with her teasing for weeks after.

  Unconsciously, Rosa lifted her fingertips to her lips, the parchment still clutched in her other hand. She swore she could still feel his lips against hers.

  Could still taste him.

  Could still feel the heat which had pooled between her thighs at his touch.

  Could still see his smile.

  Aye, she’d planned on telling the Angels most of what had happened yesterday, but now, when it was time to do so, she simply couldn’t.

  Because Court was right: Cameron Fraser was their most likely suspect, but only if they took Andrew Fraser at his word. If he’d been lying or manipulating them through what he’d told Ross and Court, then Cameron wasn’t a likely suspect, because he wouldn’t have arranged an intermediary to pay his own men to attack his brother.

  Unless the attack had nothing to do with the plot against the Crown?

  Mayhap it had been some sort of vendetta against Lachlan?

  Rosa frowned, her fingertips drumming against her lips as she jumped from one possibility to the next.

  If Cameron was guilty, what would his motives be for either plot?

  She couldn’t see how someone in his position would benefit from a Comyn on the throne, unless he was merely a pawn in a much larger conspiracy.

  The attack against his brother made more sense coming from a jealous and ambitious man, intent on taking the position of laird for himself.

  But Cameron had done nothing to indicate he was that sort of man, based on what she knew of him. To hear Lachlan and Mellie tell it, he hadn’t been home in close to fifteen years, which was not the activity of a man anxious to take control of the clan.

  Her eyes widened as something else occurred to her.

  Mellie had been the target.

  Assuming her position as a Queen’s Angel was unknown to most, why in the world would someone hire an assassin to kill Mellie?

  Lachlan, aye, mayhap…but his betrothed?

  “What are ye thinking, Rosa?” Mellie called out, and when Rosa blinked and looked across the room, the golden-haired Angel was eyeing her in speculation. “Ye only look like that when yer mind is putting it all together.”

  Wincing, Rosa dropped her hand from her lips and shook her head apologetically. “Nay, no’ everything. But the two attacks…”

  Court raised a brow. “Aye?”

  “I’ve been viewing them as separate attacks. An assassination attempt—or two—against the Queen, and an ambush to kill Mellie. But I only just realized their similarities.” Tucking the scroll under her leg to read later—when she would find a way—Rosa lifted her fingers and began ticking off points. “Both violent acts were perpetrated by members of the Red Hand, which means our c
ulprit has some connection to that group. Both were attacks paid for by another source, according to Andrew Fraser at least.” He’d claimed the Frasers had paid for the assassination, but she didn’t bother reminding her team of that. “And both were attacks against the wives.”

  “What?” Mellie asked with a frown.

  “Well”—Rosa waved dismissively at her friend—“betrothed, in yer case. My deductions, and Andrew’s confession, both point to a likelihood that targeting Elizabeth is just a step to removing King Robert from power, aye? Because if she dies before him, assuming his death follows quickly, then there’s no chance of a male heir.” She waited until she saw their nods, even though the Queen’s was reluctant, before continuing, “So what if Mellie was targeted for the same reason?”

  Court stepped away from the wall and rolled her shoulders, then shot a glance at Mellie. “So she couldnae bear Lachlan a son?”

  The way her knuckles tightened around the bow she’d picked up told Rosa she hated the idea of their friend in danger.

  Rosa shrugged. “Mayhap someone”—she couldn’t say Cameron’s name—“plans to harm Lachlan. Or mayhap they just donae approve of Mellie as his mate. Or mayhap they donae want him to have an heir.”

  Mellie shifted forward in her chair as she clasped her hands in front of her and frowned. “Lachlan is verra much in love with his daughter. She’s no’ his heir, but he might’ve lived happily with just her in his life.”

  “So mayhap ‘twas his betrothal to you which caused this person to jump to action?” Elizabeth murmured. “Once betrothed, there was a real threat of you bearing him a son. I am sorry, dear Melisandre.”

  When Mellie smiled wryly, it almost hid the fear in her eyes. “Don’ be. I wouldnae change this for the world,” she assured her, with a wink.

  Rosa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, a habit which was useless as always. “I donae ken. I am sorry, these are just theories.”

  Planting her hands on her desk, Elizabeth stood. “’Tis more than we had a moment ago. I plan to visit with Charlotte and wee Roger this afternoon and will share Rosa’s theories.”

  Rosa swallowed her relief; afraid it would show on her face.

  Why was she relieved the Queen was dropping the subject of Cameron, and what the Angels had or had not found on their search?

  She should’ve volunteered the information immediately.

  But if she did, if she reported exactly how she’d followed him, and where she’d confronted him—only to have the confrontation turn entirely to his favor—then the guards would be able to track him down. Drag him to the dungeon. Interrogate him.

  The man she’d met yesterday would resist, and they’d destroy him before he’d give the answers they needed.

  But if she could find him again, if she could be the one to question him…?

  Mayhap it was just hubris, but she believed she could unravel this knot.

  And seeing him again mayhap meant touching him again.

  Nay!

  Nay, he was still their most likely culprit, and the only reason she would seek him out would be to get answers. And then she’d turn his location over to the guards.

  “Yer Majesty, one more thing.”

  Mellie’s hesitant words dragged Rosa’s attention back to her friends. The Queen was preparing to exit, and since Court was on guard duty, she was standing at the ready. They both turned to the third Angel, who lifted her thumbnail to her teeth to chew on it, the way she always did when she was nervous.

  “What is it, Mellie?” Rosa asked quietly.

  “ ’Tis Simone,” Mellie said around her finger.

  Lachlan’s six-year-old natural daughter sounded as if she were both a hellion and a joy, according to what Mellie had described. He’d requested her presence for their wedding, which would be held in Scone.

  “Aye?” Rosa prompted.

  Blowing out a sigh, Mellie dropped her hand and slumped back in her chair. “We want her here, but with the threats against Lachlan—and me—and the possibility his own brother is behind everything”—she shook her head—“I cannae trust just anyone to go after her.”

  “And you cannot go to An Torr to fetch her because you need to watch over Lachlan,” Queen Elizabeth guessed.

  “I could,” Mellie admitted, “but Lachlan doesnae want me out of his sight for too long. I had a hard enough time convincing him to stay abed while I went out on the search. With the Queen’s Guard working double-shifts because of Charlotte’s confinement and Liam’s distraction, I donae ken…”

  Court shrugged. “Rosalind can go.” When all eyes swung toward her, she shrugged. “Ross and I are splitting guard duty for Elizabeth, and Mellie’s busy with Lachlan. Rosa has the wits to fetch Simone, even without a large group of mounted men.”

  Mellie looked unconvinced. “She could lead a large group of mounted men.”

  With a sigh, Rosa accepted her new mission. As much as she wanted to be the one here in Scone looking for Cameron, her duty to her teammates came first. “Aye, but we’d only garner attention. But a lone nun, traveling with an acolyte to her Abbey, wouldnae be suspicious. I’ll carry a disguise and have her trunks sent after.”

  Mellie held her gaze for a long moment, and Rosa could see the hesitation there. Her friend loved Simone as her own, and the thought of her unprotected was difficult to swallow. But Rosa merely lifted her chin and allowed her confidence to show.

  Mayhap she couldnae read anymore, but she still had her wits. And while she wasnae as accomplished with a bow or blade as Court and Mellie were, she still had two sharp tricks up her sleeve.

  She was an Angel after all.

  It was the Queen who asked, “You are certain you can do this, Rosalind? Travel to An Torr alone and gather the lass? What if you run into difficulty?”

  Rosa’s lips twitched. “Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.”

  Scowling, Court growled, “I hate it when ye speak in tongues.”

  The Queen, the most educated of them all, besides Rosa, lifted a brow regally. “If there is not a way, you will make one? Is that not attributed to someone famous?”

  Rosa’s bow was more than a little mocking. “Indeed. I just said it.”

  The other three women burst into chuckles, and when Rosa met Mellie’s eyes, the other woman was smiling.

  “Aright, dear friend. I trust ye with Lachlan’s heart. The part that doesnae belong to me, I mean. Should aught befall Simone…”

  “She will arrive here whole and hearty in plenty of time for yer wedding to her da,” Rosa promised.

  And in plenty of time for Rosa to return in her search for the lassie’s wayward uncle.

  Who may or may not be guilty of treason.

  It was Court who offered her hand, palm down. “Angels?”

  Mellie stood and joined her by the door, grasping Court’s forearm. “Angels.”

  Rosa hurried across the room, quick to wrap her fingers around Mellie’s forearm, and felt Court’s grip shift to hers, until they stood in an unbroken triangle.

  The triangle was the strongest shape in architecture. It was what made their team so strong.

  “Angels,” Rosa whispered, wondering how much longer they’d all be together.

  Without her talents, would she become useless to her team and relegated to a nunnery?

  What would she do there, without her books?

  Court’s grip tightened on her arm, and she met the other woman’s hard gaze. “Ye can do this, Rosa.”

  “Aye,” Rosa agreed. “I can.” She could still do this much, at least. “I make a good nun,” she teased, reminding them of past disguises and missions.

  With a grin, Mellie rolled her eyes. “Now we just need to get ye to stop living like one. A man between yer legs is one of—”

  “I knew we could not have an entire briefing without the subject of sex coming up,” the Queen interrupted from behind them.

  As they broke apart, Mellie winked. “Yer Majesty, coming up is exactly what sex is al
l about—”

  “Shut it,” Court growled, but not before they could all see her lips twitching.

  The Queen swept past them out the door, and Court followed. She glanced over her shoulder once, and Rosa saw certainty and trust in her gaze.

  When Mellie pulled her into a quick hug, before hurrying out the door as well, Rosa felt her trust as well.

  Aye, they trusted Rosa to fetch wee Simone, safe and sound.

  But they’d also trusted her to hunt for Cameron and look what had happened! She’d found the man, and because of a few kisses and a few moments of ecstasy, she’d betrayed their trust.

  With a groan, she sank into the chair Mellie had so recently vacated and dropped her head into her palms.

  What had she done?

  Chapter 3

  Cam’s eyes followed the piece of painted wood bobbing in the waters of Loch Ness, enjoying the way his mind could just…turn off when he was fishing. Oh, there was strategy and an art to fishing, but there was also relaxation and peace.

  And for now, he was watching the way a fat trout nosed suspiciously at the chunk of cheese dangling from his hook, and Cam realized he didn’t care one way or the other if the fish took the bait. If it did, he’d have his luncheon early. If it didn’t, he’d find an inn to sup at later.

  Resting his shoulders against the large branch behind him, he let out a sigh and tipped his head back, enjoying the sun on his face as it filtered through the leaves.

  This had been his favorite spot before he’d left An Torr fifteen years ago. Sometime in the past, a tall oak had fallen over, likely in one of their fierce summer storms. But instead of dying, the tree had adapted to its new location—and closer water source—by sending branches upward instead of outward. Ten-year-old Cameron had discovered the peaceful solitude a godsend during that time, and the trout who made their homes in the shadows of the branches were a pleasant bonus.

  The fact the tree still remained, still offered a safe fishing perch and a place to breathe deeply, had been a welcome surprise.

  He’d arrived in the village near An Torr that morning on foot to attract less attention. It had changed so much in the fifteen years he’d been gone, and he wasn’t sure if he appreciated that fact or not.