Free Return to Clan Sinclair by Karen Ranney

to focus rather than to stare at Macrath. Not that he wasn’t attractive enough to look at every day, but doing so only led to other things. Desire was occasionally unwelcome in the middle of the day, especially with three children and various nurses, tutors, and servants about.
    Sometimes Drumvagen was filled with too many ­people, especially when she hungered for her husband. Therefore, it was much easier to focus on her knitting then Macrath.
    â€œAre you leading up to telling me why Bruce is here?”
    Macrath started pacing again. Back and forth he strutted, his arms behind his back, as intent on his progress as the head rooster in their barnyard. Woe be unto those who ventured into his territory without permission. He’d peck you on the legs and fly up and try to batter your face with his wings.
    Macrath was just as territorial.
    He didn’t look at her, which was a clue.
    She put down her knitting, watching him.
    â€œI haven’t forgotten about Paul Henderson, you know.”
    That certainly made him stop. He turned and stared at her.
    â€œDid Bruce tell you?” he asked.
    She stared at the ceiling, huffed out a breath, then looked at him again. “Really, Macrath, that’s almost insulting. Bruce has a very large detective agency. In America. Why would you hire someone to make inquiries in America? There’s only one person who would interest you, and that’s Paul Henderson. No one had to tell me. I figured it out all by myself.”
    â€œForgive me, Virginia.”
    â€œFor what? Underestimating my intelligence or for keeping it from me? I think it’s two apologies you owe me.”
    â€œVery well, you’re right,” he said with a smile.
    â€œIs he here?”
    For a moment she wondered if he would answer her.
    â€œYes.” He threaded one hand through his hair. “We don’t know exactly where, but he’s in Scotland.”
    â€œIs that why we went to Edinburgh? So you could warn Mairi and Logan?”
    â€œPartly,” he said. “Partly to draw him out. I wanted him away from Drumvagen.”
    â€œThe children,” she said. Up until this exact moment, she had been relatively calm, but now fear filled her stomach, icing it over. She felt vaguely nauseous and cold.
    â€œHe wouldn’t do anything to the children, would he?”
    â€œNot if he wants to live another day.”
    â€œHow can a man be so obsessive? Ten years have passed, Macrath.”
    He smiled. “The right woman will make any man obsessed,” he said.
    His look warmed the ice just a little.
    â€œWe can’t let Alistair go back to school yet. Is that why you’ve delayed his return?”
    He nodded.
    â€œWe have to find Henderson, Macrath,” she said.
    Images flooded into her mind. That terrible time when Paul had drugged her and taken her aboard ship, so close to raping her she’d had nightmares for weeks afterward.
    â€œI want a big knife,” she said. “The largest one we have in the kitchen.”
    At his look, she frowned. “I will not allow my children to be harmed, Macrath. Not by Paul Henderson or anyone. If necessary, I will protect them myself.”
    He came and stood in front of her, grabbing her knitting and tossing it to the floor. Before she could protest his treatment of her latest project, he hauled her up into his arms and hugged her tightly.
    â€œI love you, Virginia,” he said. “From the very first moment I saw you, I think I loved you then.”
    She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel comforted and safe, if only for a moment, in Macrath’s arms.
    P aul Henderson stared out the window of the train, feeling anticipation tingle through him. Ten years had passed since he’d stepped foot on Scottish soil. Ten years, but he returned to this godforsaken country a successful man. A wealthy man who’d come about his riches legally.
    Â­People said he was a risk taker, and he