Kilted Sin: Brethren of Stone Read online

  A tear slipped down her cheek then. He watched as it slid over her pale, high cheekbone down her quivering chin, following the smooth column of her neck.

  “Yes, I am,” she said after swallowing hard and swiping the tear away.

  He blinked, refocusing on her face. “Good.” He meant to turn and leave, but instead he sat back in the chair. His guilt and another emotion were rising back up, replacing his anger. “Are ye well enough to start today?”

  She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Of course. How long will I need to stay to repay you?”

  “A month,” he answered. “But ye’ll have room and board while ye stay.” He searched her face as she gave a stiff nod. Part of him wanted to take his offer back and just let her go. How was he going to stand a month in this woman’s company? Yes, she was a liar and a thief but she was an exceptionally pretty one. She was also smart and resourceful.

  But just like her, he didn’t really have a choice.

  “Fine,” she said. “And after a month. What then?”

  “You go on about your business and I go on with mine.” He stood again. He should go. Start his tour of the crofts. Get away from red-haired thieves.

  “It’s a deal, Mr. Sinclair.”

  He gave a stiff nod as he tried to ignore the rise and fall of her chest. It highlighted the curve of her bosom, and his body clenched at the sight. How was he going to stay away from her when she’d be living under his roof?

  * * *

  The words left her mouth and she watched him give a quick jerk of his chin before he turned toward the door.

  “Mr. Sinclair,” she called again. “Where are my clothes?”

  He turned back around to her, surprise momentarily lighting his eyes. “Mrs. Cleary must have taken them to launder. Let me ask fer ye.”

  “If she hasn’t touched them yet, I’d ask that she didn’t. They’re rather old and require special care,” she said, hating the trace of sadness in her voice.

  He jerked his chin again and disappeared.

  Gemma slumped back down into the bed. A month? It had taken her over two weeks to get here. Then again what did she have to go back to? She hadn’t spoken to her mother since she’d married Sean. She’d given up the cottage and most of the people who used her services would have found a new laundress.

  There was no rush in returning, she supposed. She’d imagined that once she’d put her life with Sean to rest, she and her mother would reconcile. She’d moved away with Sean and she’d been too ashamed to go back after he left. She sighed, smoothing the wisps of hair falling into her face.

  Her fingers trembled as they carefully tucked the hair. She’d been so lonely, fending for herself for so long. As much as she didn’t like how she’d been coerced into caring for the children, she’d enjoy being part of a family again.

  As she brushed one last wayward hair back into place, two little faces peeked into the room.

  “Hello,” she called, giving the children a smile. If she were to spend the day with them, she might as well learn a few things about what was happening here.

  “Hello,” the girl called, giving a little wave.

  “Come in.” Gemma beckoned them forward.

  The little girl pulled her younger brother into the room. “I’m Fiona,” the child chirped. “And this is Ewan.”

  “I’m Gemma.” She patted the end of the bed and then reached down for Ewan. As she lifted him, he held out his arms to her and then snuggled into hers. His soft little body was one of the sweetest things she’d ever felt. The pang that came more and more often whenever she looked at babies hit her chest. She rested her cheek on the top of his head.

  “How come Mr. Sinclair is mad at you?” Fiona asked.

  A lump lodged in her throat, making it difficult to speak. They were getting to the heart of things rather quickly. She swallowed down her pain, and plastered another bright, fake smile on her face. “I did something I shouldn’t have.”

  Fiona nodded, her eyes attentively watching Gemma. “I don’t want to make him angry. Do you think if we are very good, he won’t send us away?” she asked with a wavering voice.

  Her heart twisted painfully. “I don’t know. But I do know that he seems like a good man. Don’t think about that right now.” She reached out and held Fiona’s hand. “How did you end up here anyway?”

  Fiona shrugged. “My father got sick and died. When my mother got sick too, she sent us to St. Mary’s but she said it was just for a little while and then she’d come for us. She never did.” There were tears in Fiona’s eyes and Gemma didn’t know what else to do besides hold her free arm out to the girl. She climbed into Gemma’s lap as though desperate for the comfort and Gemma sat holding them both. She understood their need. She’d felt it too, only she was an adult and so much more capable then them.

  A noise just outside the door alerted her that they were not alone. She looked up to see William watching them.

  Butterflies danced in her stomach. He could have sent these children back to the orphanage. It had been within his rights, to send her to the hangman. Yet here they sat in a warm room with William Sinclair using the debt she owed him to take care of two children who were not his own. Was there a better man in all of Scotland?

  Leave it to her to steal from the one good man she’d ever met.

  “I found yer clothes,” he said as he stepped into the room, her dress neatly folded over one arm as he carried a tray filled with food. “And I brought the three of ye some lunch. It isn’t much but it will have tae do.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a small table in the nursery. Why don’t I take the children there while ye dress? It’s the room next to this on the left.”

  She nodded as Fiona reluctantly climbed from her lap. Then she set Ewan on the floor. Fiona took his hand and together they followed William out of the room.

  Standing, she began to dress. She had her clothes, she was alone. Who was to stop her from just walking out the door? Granted, if she were caught, she might hang. To her surprise, that possibility wasn’t why she wanted to stay. Those children needed William’s help and so she would aid him.

  She’d find a way to settle her past at some point. She still had at least a month, hopefully more. She had to collect that inheritance, though. It was the only way she’d make it home. More importantly, that money would help to reconcile all that had happened in her marriage.

  After stepping out into the hall, she easily found the nursery when she heard the children talking. There were no toys, but there were two small beds with cozy blankets upon them. A table was set up in one corner and Fiona sat eating stew while William held Ewan in his lap feeding the child. The entire scene looked completely natural and Gemma found herself moving closer, unable to resist.

  Her hand pressed to her stomach as she attempted to control the heat building there. She shouldn’t want this man but every time she looked at him, the feelings grew stronger. “You say these children only arrived yesterday?” she asked as she crossed the room. “You seem very comfortable with them.”

  “I’m in the middle of six children. My sister, Delia, is only a few years older than Fiona and my brother Stone is having babies like some people plant crops. One after the other,” he said smiling. “I’ve spent most of my life around little ones.”

  She fought the urge to giggle. When was the last time she’d laughed? She nodded. “No wonder you’ve sympathy for their plight.”

  William grimaced, his mouth pulling down. “I do. I also have two older brothers who’ve made it their mission to not only be successful but to do so in a way that benefits everyone around them.” He shrugged. “I don’t know that I’ll ever live up to what they’ve accomplished.”

  She blinked a few times, trying to understand that. He, of all people, was worried about not being good enough? How could that be?

  Chapter Five

  Why had he just bloody said that? William didn’t need to confess the fact that he felt inferior to Blair and Stone. In fact, he
shouldn’t show such weakness to a woman who had tricked him and then stolen his most prized possession.

  What was wrong with him?

  He knew, though. He’d seen her holding the children, comforting them, and his feelings had shifted. There was no doubt he was attracted to her. Had been from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Watching her with Fiona and Ewan…he’d admired her as well.

  He straightened his shoulders, drawing himself up. Will could not allow her to weasel under his defenses again. She was dangerous, she’d proven that fact already, and he could not forget it.

  She came to sit down in the empty chair and fixed her gaze on the soup.

  Without asking, he set a bowl in front of her and filled it to the top.

  Mrs. Cleary had taken her clothes. When she’d handed them back, she’d muttered, “She does a fine job of pressing them but these clothes are threadbare and that woman is thin as a rail.”

  If Mrs. Cleary was worried for someone, it must be serious. Also, he wasn’t sure when Mrs. Cleary had grown so chatty but he wished she’d return to her silent disapproval.

  Looking at Gemma now, he could see his housekeeper had been correct and he understood why Gemma had fainted. He hadn’t noticed on their first meeting but her cheeks held large hollows and even her hands appeared thin.

  Will rubbed the back of his neck as he had another twinge of guilt. He’d blackmailed her into staying when she’d likely stolen out or necessity, but at least he could console himself that he’d keep her well-fed. That didn’t abate the guilt entirely. Stone would never force a woman to do anything and would disapprove of Will’s decision to use her plight to get free labor.

  She stared down at the beef stew, her jaw working. “It smells delicious.”

  “Eat then,” he answered quietly as he pulled a chunk of bread from the load and handed it to her without another word. Somehow, he was afraid to spook her, wanting her to eat the food.

  She dipped her spoon into the bowl and brought it back up to her mouth. Her features twisted as she took the first bite. “It’s divine.”

  “I don’t think so,” Fiona replied as she took another large bite of meat. “The nuns at St. Mary’s fed us porridge every meal.” Fiona wrinkled her nose. “They said that food was divine. This is much better than that.”

  Will sucked in his breath. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be outraged. How could growing children only be fed porridge? “I think they meant it in a different way. God had blessed that porridge. Gemma thinks the stew is so delicious that it is like it was blessed.”

  Fiona nodded. “Whichever food is blessed, I’d like to have more stew, please.”

  Will gave her a smile. If there was one thing he could do right in this situation, it was fatten them all up. “Of course, Fiona.” He ladled her out another spoonful.

  She dug in, but Gemma set her spoon down and met his gaze across the table. “Laird Sinclair.”

  He shook his head. They were eating together. Well he wasn’t eating, but they sat together at a small table. Laird seemed too formal under the circumstances. “Call me Will.”

  “Will,” she replied. “Thank you for the meal.”

  He raised his brows. “You can thank me by eating it.”

  She gave him a beautiful smile. It lit her entire face and near stole his breath. Then she dug back into her soup.

  They sat like that for half an hour. Eating and talking a little. At some point, Ewan fell asleep in his arms and Fiona, after finishing her second bowl, looked as though she might lay her head on the table and do the same.

  “Let’s put them down for a nap,” Gemma whispered across the table.

  He nodded, even as his chest tightened. There was something so intimate about the situation and he tried to harden himself against the warmth that spread through him. None of them would be in his life for long.

  These were not his children and Gemma was not a woman that would ever be his. Nor could he trust her completely after their first ill-fated encounter. The moment he let his guard down, she’d likely take all that she could and be gone again. Could he blame her?

  After he stood, he carried Ewan to a bed and tucked him in, covering the lad with the blankets. Gemma followed suit with Fiona and then they both crept toward the hall.

  As he gently shut the door, she touched his forearm with light fingers. “If you’re not sending them back to the orphanage, do you intend to keep them?” she asked.

  He ignored the way his body tingled at the gesture and shook his head. “The magistrate is trying to find a home for them. A couple looking for children.” He held in the deep sigh that threatened to lodge from his chest. He was worried for them. “I am a bachelor, trying to begin a new business venture. I want them to be in a good home, but I don’t think my home is the right place for them.”

  She stepped closer and he could smell her. Spring lilacs and gentle rain assailed his nostrils.

  “You’re doing more than most,” she said softly. “Remember that.”

  He clenched his hands in fists to keep from pulling her closer. He wanted to protest but kept silent. In his heart, he felt like there was more he could do. More than any member of his family would.

  * * *

  Gemma spent the following day with the children. They started by scouring the house for anything that could be used as a toy. Their explorations led them into several dusty rooms and she made a mental note to clean them. She could begin a basic education with Fiona but there was no reason they couldn’t spend some of the day contributing to the house.

  She’d had three consecutive meals and it was amazing what that did for her stamina.

  As she carried dinner up to the nursery, a lovely lamb roast with vegetables, she wondered if she might ask for a permanent position. Though she likely wouldn’t get it. She hadn’t made the best first impression.

  She didn’t see Will the rest of the day and all the next. Mrs. Cleary told her he was helping in the fields. The crofters who had rented his land to farm hadn’t made a very good profit during the past several years. “Mr. Sinclair has discovered one of the crofters is a widow,” the housekeeper had informed her. “He’s helping her plant so that she might make her rent.” The man was perfect.

  Gemma began using naptime to launder clothes, and Mrs. Cleary seemed grateful for the help. She also began cleaning several rooms in the afternoons. She and Fiona would sing songs, dusting and sweeping while Ewan played. She tried to make the chores fun and the children seemed to enjoy it.

  They were working in the library, dusting the wall of books shelved on the far end. She began a popular ditty with Fiona and they sang as she dusted high and Fiona low. The girl missed several spots as she danced, her little voice wobbling away. Gemma gave her a chuck on the chin as Ewan banged a wooden spoon on a pan to participate.

  The song finally came to an end, not that Ewan stopped banging, but another clapping joined the noise and Gemma turned to see Will leaning against the door. He was grimy and dirty, and looking every bit a farmer.

  He had never looked more handsome as he grinned at them. “Bravo,” he called.

  Fiona made a dash for him and he scooped the girl up into his arms. “I just washed that dress,” Gemma admonished but she couldn’t quite keep her lips from turning up.

  “Where have you been?” Fiona asked, winding her arms about Will’s neck.

  He tweaked her nose as Ewan toddled over. Will scooped up the boy without making any effort. “I’ve been working to plant the fields. The good news is my brother lives verra close and can ship our crop to the distilleries. We just have to grow enough to make the quota.”

  Fiona nodded her head even as she scrunched her brows together. “Quota?”

  Gemma, drawn to the trio, moved to stand next to them. “Will’s trying to make money. You know about that, don’t you? It’s what we use to buy food and clothes.”

  Fiona’s eyes widened and her chin bobbed up and down. “Oh that is important.” Then she leaned in
until her nose touched Will’s. “But we miss you when you’re gone.”

  Will’s mouth parted but no words came out. He cleared his throat while gently setting the children down. “I’ve missed you too.”

  Gemma skimmed her fingers down the girl’s cheek. “Go finish dusting the lower shelf,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”

  Ewan followed Fiona going back to his makeshift drum.

  “They don’t have to clean and neither do you.” Will pivoted to face her. “I heard you’ve also taken over the laundry.”

  Gemma shrugged and her cheeks warmed. “I’ve never minded working hard and Mrs. Cleary could use the extra hands.”

  “I appreciate the help.”

  His voice was deep yet soft and it rippled along her skin, tightening her nipples. “And I truly appreciate the chance to work off my debt,” she said. “Thank ye fer not turning me in. what I did, it wasn’t right—”

  “Enough,” he cut her off, his hoarse voice in contrast to how smooth it had just been. “I’m not exactly proud of forcing you here and I appreciate you making the best of a bad situation.”

  Gemma looked up into his warm brown eyes. Her breath caught as their gazed locked and she found herself drifting closer. “Let’s stop apologizing. I can honestly say that I am glad to be here.”

  One side of his mouth turned up. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

  She wanted to touch him like she had the other day. To feel the heat of his skin under her hand. She clenched her fingers into tight fists to resist. It wouldn’t be appropriate.