A Taste of Sin (24 page)

Sinjun was already well into his cups when Rudy intercepted him on his way to the gaming room.

“Where is your new paramour, Sinjun?”

Sinjun stifled a yawn. “Dancing with Lord Welby. I can’t seem to manage the intricate steps tonight.” He toasted Rudy with his glass and emptied the contents in one swallow.

“Bloody hell, Sinjun, you’re foxed again. What’s wrong with you? I’ve never seen you this drunk, not even on your worst days. You’re a mess. You go off to God knows where and return more debauched than you were before. Everyone is talking about you. Lord Sin is back, but he’s somehow different. There’s a rage inside you I’ve never seen before. You’re hard and cynical and no longer fun. What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Sinjun drawled.

“I think there is. I’m your friend, Sinjun, I care what happens to you.”

Sinjun slanted him a blurry-eyed look. “You’re imagining things, Rudy. In fact, I’ve never been better. I’m considering asking Alice to marry me.”

“Alice Dodd! Bloody hell! She’ll take a lover before the ink dries on the marriage license. Her husband was killed dueling for her honor. Besides, if I recall, you’re already married.”

“My marriage to Christy Macdonald can be ended in short order whenever I wish. As for Alice, she can take all the lovers she wants
after
she gives me an heir. If I have to, I’ll chain her to the bed until she quickens with my child.”

“Why this sudden need for a child?” Rudy asked curiously. “You’ve never been eager to become a father before.”

Rudy’s innocent question hit Sinjun squarely in the gut. He felt suddenly as if the life had drained out of him. He had never thought about children until he saw Christy swell with his babe inside her. He had felt a bone-deep pride he’d never experienced before. He’d loved his unborn child and still mourned its death.

No one, except perhaps for Emma, knew how utterly the baby’s death had devastated him. The unexpected death coming on the heels of Christy’s request for an annulment so she could wed Calum Cameron had made a shambles of his life. The first time Christy, posing as Lady Flora, had left him, he had embarked on a journey to self-destruction. But that had been nothing compared to what he was doing to himself now.

“Every man wants an heir,” Sinjun said lamely.

“You’re not an old man, Sinjun. Wait until you find someone worthy of your name. Believe me, ‘tis not Alice Dodd.”

“Did someone mention my name?”

Lady Alice Dodd’s regal bearing, cool blond beauty, and pale blue eyes concealed a passionate nature that attracted a legion of lovers. A Frenchwoman, she’d met her husband while visiting relatives in Dover and had promptly married him. Poor Viscount Dodd had been killed six months after the wedding, dueling over her honor. The first time she’d seen Sinjun she’d selected him as her next husband. Though her friends told her it was hopeless, Alice didn’t let that sway her.

“Alice, have you met Lord Blakely?”

“Oh,
oui,”
Alice simpered. “So nice to see you again, my lord.”

Rudy kissed her outstretched hand and dropped it with undue haste. “The pleasure is all mine, my lady.”

Alice flashed him an insincere smile, then blatantly ignored him as she turned her considerable charm on Sinjun. “I’m bored, Sinjun, shall we leave?” Her sexy purr held a wealth of promise. “You said you’d show me your townhouse tonight. There’s one room in particular I’m interested in.”

Sinjun frowned at Alice, not too foxed to realize she wasn’t the woman he wanted. She was very much like the other women in whose arms he’d tried to find comfort.

“If you’d like,” Sinjun said indifferently.

He stumbled forward, and Rudy caught his arm. “You’re in no condition to show Lady Alice anything but her front door,” he admonished. “Go home, I’ll see to Lady Alice.”

Alice shot Rudy a look that could have boiled an egg. “There’s nothing wrong with Sinjun, my lord. I’ll take care of him.”

“I’m sure you will,” Rudy mocked, “but I doubt Sinjun will appreciate your efforts in his condition.”

“Bloody hell, Rudy,” Sinjun slurred, “who appointed you my guardian?”

“I’ve done my duty,” Rudy said on a long suffering sigh. “I wish you both good night.”

“Good night, Rudy,” Sinjun said as he wheeled Alice through the crowded ballroom.

“Oh, Sinjun, I forgot to tell you,” Rudy called, catching up with him. “Did you know Lady Flora is back in town? I saw her entering a shop on Bond Street.”

Foxed as he was, Sinjun whirled around so fast that Alice lost her balance. She would have fallen had Rudy not stretched out a hand to steady her.

“The devil you say! What in bloody hell is she doing in England?”

“I didn’t stop to ask. I know you were infatuated with her at one time and thought you’d be interested.”

“Do you know where she’s staying?”

“I haven’t a clue. What if you run into her?”

Sinjun’s face hardened, and his dark eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The pain of betrayal was carved in every line of his harsh features, in the muscle that twitched in his jawline, and in the compression of his lips. He looked so fierce that Alice gasped and backed away.

Bitter words spewed from his throat, raw with barely suppressed anger.

“The bitch! Let’s hope I don’t.”

Chapter 12

C
hristy bent over her work, adjusting her eyes to the dark velvet she was sewing. After paying the rent on the small house she’d leased in the less than fashionable district south of Bond Street, and hiring someone to do the general housekeeping and cooking, she realized her small hoard of money wasn’t going to last as long as she’d hoped.

Effie had offered to find work, but Christy decided that since she had brought Effie and Gavin to London it was up to her to provide for them. Shortly after arriving in London she’d found employment at Madam Sofia’s Boutique, one of the better modistes on Bond Street. The work wasn’t hard, but the hours were long. The one thing Christy liked about the work was that she could perform her job out of the public eye, unseen by the prestigious clientele that frequented Madam Sofia’s establishment.

Christy was hard at work one day when Madam Sofia peeked through the curtain separating the front of the shop from the back and asked her to bring out a bolt of gold tissue she thought one of her customers might fancy. Christy found the cloth her employer wanted, walked through the partition, and set the heavy bolt on the display counter.

“Spread the cloth out, Christy, while I find the fashion doll Lady Thornton requested,” Sofia directed. “I won’t be gone long.”

Christy lifted her eyes and saw Sinjun’s sister staring at her with something akin to horror.

“You!” Emma gasped. “What are you doing in London? Haven’t you hurt Sinjun enough? Why didn’t you stay where you belonged? Wait! I know. Sinjun ordered you to vacate Glenmoor, didn’t he?” she said smugly.

“I never meant to hurt Sinjun,” Christy whispered, stunned by Emma’s animosity. This was exactly the kind of situation she’d hoped to avoid.

“You’ve already done my brother irreparable damage,” Emma charged. “Sinjun isn’t the same man I once knew, and ‘tis all your fault. He used to be fun, but now there is no laughter in his soul, no happiness, only darkness. When I look in his eyes now, all I see is a man driven by desperation. A man trying to escape his pain.”

“I’m sorry,” Christy said for want of anything better. She couldn’t count the times she’d wondered how Sinjun had reacted to her letter, but Emma’s description defied imagination.

“You should be,” Emma hissed, her violet eyes seething with condemnation. “I’m sorry about your child, but what you did to my brother was reprehensible. He truly cared for you.”

Christy’s eyes widened. “He told you about … everything? What did he say?”

“I overheard Sinjun telling Julian about you when he returned from Glenmoor. He was so happy about the baby. He intended to return to the Highlands, you know. I was with him the day he received your letter. He was devastated. You’re a terrible person, Christy Macdonald.”

Christy nearly buckled under the heavy weight of Emma’s disapproval. She wanted to blurt out the truth but didn’t dare. It had never occurred to her that Sinjun might care for her as strongly as she cared for him. Her only solace was that Sinjun still had his life.

“Leave Sinjun alone,” Emma warned. “He’s well rid of you. I can’t imagine why you would prefer another man when you had Sinjun.”

“Is Lord Derby well?” Christy asked, trying to keep the eagerness from her voice and failing.

“If you can call a man bent on destroying himself well, then I suppose he’s well enough. I heard that Sinjun is going to marry Lady Alice Dodd. I don’t approve of the match, and Julian isn’t here to stop him, but if he loves Alice Dodd, then I suppose I can accept her.”

Stricken, Christy lowered her gaze. “I wish him well.” She wanted to turn and flee, to hug her son close and tell him about the father he would never know. Instead, she said, “Please don’t tell Sinjun you saw me. ‘Twould be best if he didn’t know I’m in London.”

“Don’t worry,” Emma sniffed. “I won’t say a word. He hates you as much as I do. I’ll never forgive you for lying to him,
Lady Flora.
You’ve all but destroyed him.”

Madam Sofia chose that moment to return from the back of the shop. She sent Christy a sharp look when she noticed Emma’s agitation and immediately sought to placate one of her best customers.

“Is something wrong, Lady Thornton? Has my employee offended you in some way?”

“Just the sight of Christy Macdonald offends me,” Emma retorted. “I cannot believe you’d employ a woman of her caliber. I always thought this was a high-class establishment. Perhaps I should take my custom elsewhere.”

“I beg you to reconsider, my lady,” Sofia pleaded. “I would never knowingly hire someone of questionable reputation, or offend one of my customers. She’ll be let go immediately.”

Christy’s heart sank. This job had been perfect for her. She hated the thought of going out and looking for another. But neither did she wish to offend Emma Thornton. She admired the girl for sticking up for her brother. Under any other circumstances they might have been friends.

“You may leave immediately,” Madam Sofia ordered, scowling at Christy. “Come back tomorrow for your outstanding wages.”

Christy sent Emma a look of such remorse that Emma had to look away. Though Emma knew Christy didn’t deserve her pity, she hoped Christy wouldn’t starve because of her. Obviously Christy was in London because Sinjun had turned her out of Glenmoor. She didn’t want to think about Christy’s lack of home or funds and had to harden her heart in order to remain loyal to her brother.

Nevertheless, as Christy sidled past her, Emma suffered a pang of guilt. There was something about Christy’s expression that seemed strangely at odds with the heartless woman Emma had imagined Christy to be. Something was wrong, but for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what. She knew what Christy’s letter contained, for she’d read it after Sinjun had wadded it up and tossed it to the floor. Was there more here than met the eye?

Tears clogged Christy’s throat. If Emma’s words could be believed, and Christy had no reason to doubt them, she had hurt Sinjun terribly. She’d expected him to mourn their bairn, but not excessively.. Not Lord Sin. Lord Sin would never deliberately set out to destroy himself, would he?

Firming her chin and dashing away her tears, Christy came to a decision. She had to see Sinjun, to judge for herself how accurately Emma had described his frame of mind. And she had to accomplish it without Sinjun’s knowledge.

The following morning Christy asked Gavin to drive her around Hyde Park. During her previous visit to London she’d learned that the
ton
usually rode through the park in the morning, and she hoped to find Sinjun among those trotting along Rotten Row. She swathed herself in a veil and widow’s weeds and tried to ignore the curious looks she received. Seeing no reason to deny Niall the fresh air, she brought Effie and her son along on her outing.

Christy saw nothing of Sinjun that morning or the next three mornings. On the fourth day she saw him, mounted upon a magnificent black gelding. He didn’t appear unhappy … only bored.

Christy’s hungry gaze devoured Sinjun as Gavin drove the rig past him. That brief glance wasn’t enough. She swiveled her head to watch him until her coach turned a corner and she could no longer see him. As if that wasn’t punishment enough, Christy returned to Hyde Park later that afternoon, when men often took their ladies riding.

Sure enough, Sinjun was there, handling the ribbons of his high-stepping matched grays with expertise. Sitting beside him was a lovely blond who clung to him with a possessiveness that grated on Christy. Lady Alice? Jealousy choked her; she couldn’t breathe. She paled visibly when the woman leaned close to whisper into Sinjun’s ear. He nodded and smiled, but Christy saw nothing in his conduct to indicate his interest. The sunshine had suddenly gone out of the day, and Christy asked Gavin to take her home. She couldn’t bear the thought of Sinjun belonging to another woman. Christy’s punishment for the terrible lie she had told Sinjun was to return to the park day after day. Seeing Sinjun with another woman was worse than taking a beating. But if the alternative was never seeing Sinjun, her suffering was worth it.