A Taste of Sin (28 page)

Christy was sick of pretenses, sick of lying to Sinjun, but she feared that being truthful now would bring unpleasant repercussions. She knew intuitively that Sinjun would neither understand nor forgive her. What if he took her bairn from her? She had no choice. She had to continue this charade to the bitter end. It was her punishment and her penance.

It wasn’t until Effie brought Niall to her to nurse the following morning that Christy finally reached a decision.

“Pack our things, Effie, we’re going to move,” she said decisively.

Effie’s mouth dropped open. “Move, Christy? Where will we go? Why must we move?”

“I made a mistake last night,” Christy admitted. “Lord Derby recognized me despite my best efforts to disguise myself. I lied about Niall and I fear he’ll never forgive me should he find us.”

“I dinna think ‘tis wise to return to Scotland, unless yer willing to wed with Calum.”

“That will never happen,” Christy said grimly. “We’ll move to a respectable inn until I can rent another place within our means.”

“How soon do ye wish to leave?”

“Immediately. I’ll look for something today. Tell Gavin to bring the coach around in an hour.”

“Perhaps ye should tell Lord Derby about the bairn,” Effie suggested.

“No, I cannot. He might take Niall from me, and I couldn’t bear it.”

She kissed the top of Niall’s head, hugging him against her as his little mouth sucked vigorously at her nipple. When his eyes closed and his mouth slackened, she handed him to Effie and rose to begin her day.

Following at a discreet distance, Sinjun stuck like glue to Rudy, hoping his friend would eventually lead him to Christy. Rudy visited Brooks, White’s, the Exchange, and his haberdasher, but not Christy. When Rudy settled in at his grandmother’s house for what appeared to be an extended visit, Sinjun gave up in disgust and decided to stop in at Brooks. He was tooling down the roadway when a coach pulling up before the Blue Goose Inn caught his attention. His heart pounded against his ribcage when he noticed that the driver looked familiar. He didn’t remember his name, but he sure as hell knew a Macdonald when he saw one.

Sinjun pulled into an empty space behind the coach and waited. He had no idea what was going on, but he was prepared to wait for as long as it took to find out. His patience was rewarded when he saw Christy step down from the coach and enter the inn. The moment Christy disappeared inside, he leaped from his carriage to confront Christy’s kinsman.

“You can leave now,” Sinjun said, startling Gavin, who obviously hadn’t seen him approach from the rear.

“Yer … yer lordship, I dinna see ye.”

“I know you’re a Macdonald,” Sinjun said, “but I can’t recall your name.”

“Gavin, milord, Rory’s brother.”

“Aye, now I remember. You may leave, Gavin. I’ll take care of Christy.”

Gavin stiffened. “Nay, I canna do that.”

“I insist,” Sinjun said sternly. “I’m more than capable of seeing to my own wife.”

“Yer wife!” Gavin sputtered. “’Tis my understanding that ye and The Macdonald are no longer wed.”

“Contrary to what Christy thinks, we’re still married,” Sinjun revealed. “I will assume complete responsibility for her from now on.”

Gavin looked unconvinced. “Ye won’t hurt her, will ye?”

“The Macdonald is safe with me,” Sinjun bit out. “She will be residing with me from now on.”

“But yer lordship,” Gavin argued, “ye donna understand. There are … others to consider.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” Sinjun assured him. “Go home, I’ll contact you later, after I’ve spoken with Christy.”

“Verra well, yer lordship, but I dinna like it,” Gavin grumbled as he pulled the coach out into traffic with marked reluctance. “Yell answer to me and my clansmen if ye harm The Macdonald,” he called over his shoulder.

Muttering to himself, Sinjun pulled his carriage into the place just vacated by the coach and sat back to wait for Christy.

Christy knew immediately that the Blue Goose Inn was not the place for her and her small family. From the outside it looked respectable enough, but once inside Christy was disheartened by its disreputable appearance. The Blue Goose was the third inn she’d visited and the third she’d found unsuitable, even for the short stay she had in mind. But she wasn’t discouraged. There were least three more inns in good but unfashionable neighborhoods.

Distracted, Christy left the inn, expecting to find Gavin waiting with the coach. The breath slammed from her chest when she saw Sinjun standing beside his carriage, where she had expected to see Gavin waiting with her coach. Sinjun’s mouth was twisted into a chilling smile, and Christy felt the first stirrings of fear.

“Sinjun. What are you doing here? Where is Gavin?”

“I sent him home. You’re coming with me.”

“You had no right!” Christy exclaimed, alarmed by this unexpected turn of events. A confrontation with Sinjun was precisely what she’d wanted to avoid.

“You’re my wife. I have every right in the world.”

Christy staggered and would have fallen had Sinjun not reached out to steady her. “The annulment …,” she began.

“Later,” he spat as he grasped her waist and lifted her into the carriage. “Did you think I wouldn’t know I was making love to my own wife last night?”

That’s exactly what she’d thought. How could her thinking have been so flawed? She couldn’t go anywhere with Sinjun. She had a child at home, waiting to be fed. Her breasts were hard and hot, and she could feel milk leaking from her nipples.

“I’m taking you home. My home,” Sinjun clarified. “’Tis where you belong.”

“You can’t do this! We’re no longer married.”

“You’re dead wrong, and a bigamist if you married Calum Cameron.”

Stunned, Christy felt her entire world falling apart. It didn’t take a seer to realize that Sinjun was anything but pleased to see her. What would he do when he learned his son was alive?

Stiffening her shoulders, Christy vowed to do whatever it took to keep from losing her son.

Chapter 14

“W
elcome to Derby Hall,” Sinjun said coolly as he handed Christy down from the carriage and propelled her up the front steps.

The door swung open and Sinjun hustled her inside. She shrugged free of his bruising grip and glared at him. Whatever she was going to say died in her throat when she met his fiery gaze. It was like tumbling headlong into a blazing inferno. She’d never seen him so angry, not even that day he’d walked into Glenmoor and recognized her.

His face was set in stone, wiped clean of all emotion, as he stared at her. Suddenly she realized they weren’t alone. A tall, gaunt man wearing Derby livery stood at attention beside the door. She gave him a tentative smile. He acknowledged her with a brief flicker of one eyebrow.

“Pemburton,” Sinjun began, “I’d like to present to you your new mistress, my wife, Lady Derby.”

Pemburton’s carefully composed expression went slack with shock. “Your … your wife, my lord?” he sputtered.

“Aye. Lady Derby has traveled from Scotland to join me. Summon the staff. I want them all lined up in the foyer in fifteen minutes to meet their new mistress.”

“As you say, my lord,” the usually unflappable Pemburton intoned as he disappeared into the dark regions of the house. Though the poor man tried not to appear ruffled, Christy suspected Pemburton had been overwhelmed by her unexpected arrival.

“Why did you tell him that?” Christy demanded. “I’m not your wife and you know it.”

“You’re wrong, Christy,” Sinjun rasped. “I never filed the annulment with the courts. Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re still married. If you’ve already wed the Cameron chieftain, that makes you a bigamist. If you’ve bedded him, that makes you a wh…”

Rage exploded inside Christy’s brain as she drew her arm back and slapped him. “Bastard!” she hissed from between clenched teeth. “How dare you call me names! Misbegotten wretch. Rogue. Wastrel. How many women have you bedded since you left Scotland?”

Sinjun raised his hand to his reddened cheek. “I would advise you not to try that again,” he snarled. “You’re the one who wanted to dissolve our marriage. You wrote that blasted letter. You didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me how our child died.” He grasped her shoulders, giving her a rough shake. “Did you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Ahem. My lord, my lady. The servants are gathered as you requested.”

Christy’s face flamed. Arguing in front of servants was not well done of either of them. Not that it mattered what the servants thought of her. She couldn’t remain in this house. Not with a husband who hated her and a child who needed her else-where. Regardless, Sinjun began the introductions as if nothing had happened.

The plump, bespectacled woman was Mrs. McBride, the cook. Then there were three pert Irish maids, Peggy, Megan, and Bridie. Two young brothers, Jesse and Jerry, helped with odd jobs in the kitchen and drove the equipage when needed. John Coachman, whom she’d met before, had charge of the stables. Pemburton, she learned, ran the household with an iron fist.

When told to select a personal maid from among the three young women, Christy chose Peggy, a saucy brunette with lively blue eyes. After the introductions the staff filed out, leaving Christy and Sinjun alone to continue their argument.

“I’ll show you to your chamber,” Sinjun said, propelling her up the curving staircase.

Christy waited until they were inside the large, elegantly appointed bedchamber before rounding on Sinjun. “Why are you doing this?”

“You chose to come to London, so I naturally assumed you wished to take up where we left off.”

“That’s not why I came to London.”

“Why did you come, my love?” His gaze traveled the length of her trim form, lingering on her full breasts an unsettling moment before returning to her face. “Having a child changed … certain things about you,” he said. “I don’t recall you being so well endowed.”

You’d be well endowed, too, if your breasts were filled with milk and ready to burst,
Christy thought with asperity.

“I have to leave, Sinjun. Gavin and Effie will be worried about me.”

“They know where to find you. What happened to Rory and Margot? I expected to see them with you.”

“Margot is with child.” She glared at Sinjun. “Unlike some men I know, Rory wanted to be with Margot for the birth of his child.”

“Dammit, Christy! You know why I had to leave. I had every intention of returning, until I received your letter. I had no idea you were so enamored of the Cameron chieftain. Why isn’t he with you?”

Christy sought answers to Sinjun’s questions and couldn’t find it in her heart to tell more lies. “Calum is in Scotland. I … we didn’t suit.”

“So you came to London to win me back,” Sinjun accused derisively.

“No! That’s not true.”

“Why
did
you come to London? Did you think to choose another husband from among my friends? Rudy, perhaps?”

“I don’t need a husband!” Unable to bear his false accusations, she started toward the door. “I refuse to stay here a moment longer than necessary.” Sinjun was there ahead of her, leaning against the panel, arms crossed over his chest, his smile mocking.

“Tell me what brought you to London.”

“I never intended our paths to cross again.”

“Liar!” Sinjun shouted. “You wouldn’t have attended the ball if you wanted to avoid me.”

Christy glared defiantly. “That was a mistake, and that’s all I’m going to say. Move away from the door.”

Sinjun’s temper soared. Never in his life had he been so summarily dismissed by a woman. But despite his anger, his utter confusion, his body stirred with desire. He remembered Christy as she had been last night. Eager, passionate, a flame in his arms. He suddenly felt alive again. The air around them was charged with energy. His body vibrated with a seductive languor that made his breath labored and his senses intensified.

Anticipation quickened the beat of his heart. He needed to be inside her. Desire raged like a wildfire in his blood. The only thing stopping him from stripping her and carrying her to his bed was the knowledge that nothing she’d told him made sense. She had spun so many tales in the past that he was having difficulty separating truth from fiction.

“I want the truth, Christy. I know you’re hiding something. What is it? Who are you protecting?”

Christy paled. “I … I…” Hell would be preferable to what she was going through now.

“How did my child die? Did I have a son or daughter? You owe me answers.”

“A son!” Christy blurted out. “He never drew a breath. We buried him the same day.”

Sinjun seemed to collapse inwardly, and Christy felt as if her own heart were breaking. It was as if a dam had burst inside her, and suddenly she knew she couldn’t continue like this. Dishonesty was a terrible sin. That long-ago lie she’d told Sinjun had compounded until untruths piled one atop another. God would never forgive her. She never considered herself a bad person, but she knew Sinjun would judge her harshly.