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Authors: Connie Mason

BOOK: A Taste of Sin
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“Ye are the laird and he’d do anything for ye. He’d better,” Margot added, “if he knows what’s good for him. I’ve promised to become his bride when we return to Glenmoor. Rory likes English swine no better than any true Highlander. He’ll go along with whatever ye choose to tell the clan when ye return to Glenmoor. I’ll go rout the lout out from the carriage house now.”

A short time later a scowling Rory carried in the wooden hip bath and set it before the hearth. It was obvious to Christy that Rory was upset about something and she thought it best to get it out into the open.

“What’s bothering you, Rory? Are you upset with me?”

“Och, ‘tisna for me to tell our laird what to do, but entertaining Englishmen is beneath ye, Christy Macdonald. Yer a married woman.”

“A married woman whose husband doesn’t even know what she looks like,” Christy retorted. “I know what I’m doing, Rory. One day you’ll understand, but until then, I ask that you trust me.”

“What about the Englishman?” Rory growled.

Christy sighed. There was no help for it. Rory must be told enough to keep his loyalty. “The Englishman is my husband, Rory. He doesn’t know me and I’m not going to tell him.”

Rory stared at her until he finally seemed to grasp what she had told him, then he smiled. “Yer bedding yer own husband! Here I thought…” His eyes narrowed. “I smell something foul.”

“ Tis nothing for you to worry about, Rory, everything will be fine. When we return to Glenmoor I intend to have Derby’s heir growing in my belly. That should stop the talk that I end my unconsummated marriage and wed Calum Cameron.”

“There are those who say yer marriage to the Englishman isna legal, lass.”

Christy’s chin rose defiantly. “’Tis no longer true. My marriage is legal in every sense of the word, whether or not Lord Derby realizes it.”

“Yer not going to tell him,” Rory said, giving her a slow smile. “Serves the bastard right.”

“As far as Sinjun is concerned, I’m Lady Flora Randall from Cornwall, wed to an elderly viscount who cannot sire an heir and has given his wife leave to get herself with child. Now that you know, can I trust you with my secret, Rory Macdonald?”

“Och, ye can trust me with yer life, lass. Tis why I offered to come to London with ye and Margot.” His chest swelled. “Margot is to be my wife, I couldna let her wander about the wicked city alone, now could I?”

“You have my gratitude, Rory. With luck we’ll be back at Glenmoor before snow flies.”

“It canna be too soon for me,” Rory mumbled as he let himself out of the bedchamber to fetch water for the tub.

“Nor for me,” Christy muttered to herself. She’d been so sure she could handle a man like Sinjun, but she’d been wrong. No woman could possibly be prepared for the sensuous, wickedly charming rogue known as Lord Sin.

His kisses took her breath away. His talented hands made a shambles of her resistance, and his endearments, though they held little truth, made her wish for things that Sinjun was unwilling to share with any woman. Things that only a husband could give to his wife.

Sinjun didn’t want a wife, however. As long as she remembered that, she would be safe. But the moment she forgot that Sinjun had bedded countless women during the years of their marriage, she was in danger of losing her heart to him.

Sinjun returned to his bachelor quarters, bathed, and ordered a breakfast that could easily feed three healthy men. He couldn’t recall when he’d been so ravenous this early in the morning. He finished off the last bite of kidney and eggs, drank his coffee cup dry, and sat back, replete. Then, since he had nothing pressing to do this morning, he returned to his room to take a nap. He’d had bloody little sleep last night, and tonight, if he had anything to say about it, promised to be just as sleepless.

He closed his eyes and imagined Flora as she had been scant hours ago. Men waxed poetic about beauty such as hers, and she had gifted him, of all men, with her innocence. He’d never encountered a married virgin before and he had to admit it had stunned him. As jaded as he was, he found Lady Flora’s innocence incredibly arousing.

He frowned when he remembered exactly what it was she wanted from him, but he shoved the thought aside. Why should he let his conscience bother him when it never had before? If her husband was willing to pass his child off as a Randall, should she conceive, so be it. If last night was any indication, his association with the lady was going to be immensely satisfying for both of them.

With delightful thoughts of his new mistress dancing in his head, Sinjun fell soundly asleep. Hours later he was rudely awakened when someone barged into his room without knocking and shook him awake. Sinjun reared up, disoriented, searching for his pistol to dispatch this unseen enemy.

“Damn it, Sinjun, wake up!”

Sinjun shook his head to clear away the last dregs of sleep and frowned at the man looming over him.

“Bloody hell, Julian, what’s wrong with you? It’s not polite to burst into a man’s bedroom and scare the living hell out of him.”

“As long as I’m the head of the family I have the right to do as I please. Besides, it’s the middle of the day.” Concern worried his brow. “Are you ill? Why are you still abed?”

Julian Thornton, Sinjun’s older brother and fifth earl of Mansfield, was every bit as handsome as Sinjun. Whereas Sinjun rarely met a man he didn’t like or a woman he couldn’t love, Julian was more reserved, more discerning in his tastes. He took his duties as head of the family—namely, Sinjun and his younger sister Emma—seriously, and his duties to his country even more so.

Julian was a mystery to his peers. He disappeared for long periods of time and told no one where or why he went. Since Sinjun’s own life was full and rewarding, he rarely questioned his older brother about his mysterious comings and goings. He merely accepted it as part of his brother’s private life, though he did worry about Julian. Despite Julian’s gruff manner, there was a closeness between the siblings others admired.

“I’m in perfect health, thank you,” Sinjun said as he leaped naked from bed and threw on his dressing gown. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Not going off on one of your jaunts again, are you? I don’t imagine Emma is going to like that. She’s too much alone these days.”

“I’m not going anywhere for the time being,” Julian said. “It wouldn’t hurt if you paid Emma more attention yourself. Only the good Lord knows the kind of trouble she gets herself into when I’m away. She’s too old for a governess and too young to go about without a proper chaperone. I’ve hired a maid to accompany Emma about, but she flouts my authority at every turn. I’m at my wit’s end with her.”

“Is that why you’re here? You’re the head of the family. You have more authority over Emma than I do.”

“No, Emma isn’t the reason I’m here, though we should discuss her. Emma is going to need your guidance when I’m called away again.”

Sinjun laughed. “Are you sure I’m the one to see to our sister’s welfare? As I recall, you don’t approve of my lifestyle.”

Hands clasped behind his back, Julian started pacing. A scowl darkened his brow, and he appeared upset as he stopped abruptly and whirled to glare at Sinjun. “Your excesses are the talk of the town, Sinjun. No woman is safe around you. Fetch your wife from Scotland. Tis time you settled down.”

Sinjun sighed. “Who complained this time? How much will it cost me? I swear, Julian, I don’t dally with innocents, and to my knowledge I’ve left no bastards with any of my mistresses.”

He thought of Lady Flora and flushed. She wanted to conceive his child and return to her husband. For the first time that thought made him uncomfortable. He’d always been careful not to release his seed inside his lovers. But if Flora did conceive, the child wouldn’t be a bastard. It would become heir to a title and be much loved. Did that make everything all right? Why in the hell did his conscience have to kick in now?

“Thank God for that,” Julian said, raising his riveting dark eyes heavenward. “The reason for my visit is important, Sinjun, but this time it has nothing to do with your dissolute lifestyle. This morning I received a missive from your bailiff at Glenmoor, along with his quarterly report. There is unrest among the clans loyal to The Macdonald. They have refused to pay the quarterly taxes and rents. Sir Oswald says he’s afraid to approach them about payment, for they have threatened his life.”

“Bloody hell! What am I supposed to do about it?”

“‘Tis your land, your wife, your people. You’ve enjoyed the profits all these years, go up there and see what’s going on. I’ve always considered the rents and taxes quite reasonable.”

Sinjun thought of Lady Flora and felt disinclined to leave her so soon after finding her. He was too blissfully happy with her to abandon her to another.

“Perhaps I will, Julian, but not now. I … damn it! If you must know, I’ve taken a new mistress and simply don’t want to leave her just yet. She’s … I can’t explain it, but Lady Flora is … special. There’s never been another like her.”

Julian gave an exasperated snort. “You said that about your last three mistresses. I tell you true, Sinjun, if you don’t see to your holdings you’re going to be sorry. Soldiers have been keeping the Highlands under severe military rule for seventeen years and resentment runs high. Tis time you claimed your wife and consummated your marriage. You should have done it years ago.”

“You want me to bed that redheaded, freckle-faced hellion!” Sinjun exclaimed. “Surely you remember what a rude little baggage she was. I want nothing to do with her, Julian. Let King George’s army handle her rebellious clansmen. That’s what his army is for.”

“They wouldn’t be rebellious if you’d put in an appearance from time to time to collect your own rents and remind them that you’re their laird’s husband.”

“You’re probably right, Julian, but I can’t tear myself away just yet. You’ll understand once you meet my new mistress. Maybe after a few months I’ll feel differently.”

Julian cocked a dark eyebrow. “Given your history with women, I predict you’ll tire of her within a fortnight.”

“Don’t act the prude with me, Julian. You’re no angel. After your betrothed died you showed no interest in settling down to marriage with another woman. Your name has been linked with at least a dozen women, from innocent maidens to lonely widows. You just don’t stay in one place long enough to settle down with one of them. What dangerous games are you playing, Julian? Your mysterious comings and goings worry me. And I know Emma is concerned. I don’t wish to become an earl, you know, so take care of yourself.”

Julian gripped Sinjun’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, Sinjun. ‘Tis you I’m concerned about. I care what happens to you. Will you at least promise to go to Scotland when you and your latest lightskirt part?”

Sinjun stiffened. “Flora is no lightskirt. She’s a lady, a virgin, until she gave herself to me. And, aye, I promise to see to my affairs after Lady Flora returns to her elderly husband.”

Julian looked astounded. “A married virgin? I’ll bet that’s a story worth hearing. If that’s the best I can expect from you, then so be it.”

“Will you be attending the Ravensdale ball tonight? Everyone who’s anyone will be there.”

“Aye, I’m escorting Emma. You can introduce me to your new lover.”

“Very well, if you promise not to charm her away from me.”

Julian laughed. “’Tis unlikely any woman would prefer me over you. I’m far too uninteresting.” He went to the sideboard and helped himself to the brandy.

Sinjun sent him an assessing look. “If you weren’t so bloody somber you’d have women falling at your feet.”

Julian raised his glass to Sinjun. “One rake in the family is all the ton can handle.” He tipped the glass to his lips and drained it. “Well, I must be off. I’m to meet Lord Finchley at the Stock Exchange. I’ll see you tonight.”

Sinjun stared after his brother, wondering why Julian didn’t marry and settle down. He certainly wasn’t lacking in the looks department. There was something dark and dangerous about Julian that attracted women. Needless to say, Julian wasn’t a man Sinjun would like to have as an enemy. But as a brother there was none better.

The rest of the day progressed far too slowly for Sinjun’s liking. He couldn’t wait to see Flora again, nor could he recall when he’d been this excited about a woman. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on set her apart from other women of his acquaintance.

That evening Sinjun ordered the coach bearing the Derby coat of arms to be brought around. He wanted everything to be perfect for his first public appearance with his new mistress. As the coachman drove him to Belgrave Square, Sinjun was already wishing the evening over. He couldn’t wait to have Flora’s sweet body all to himself.

For tonight’s outing Christy chose a gown fashioned of gold tissue, deliberately shunning dampened gauze, which many of the other ladies would be wearing. The gown, fitted at the waist, had drop sleeves that bared her shoulders and allowed a tempting peek at the creamy tops of her breasts. A hooped petticoat worn beneath her gown added fullness to the skirt. Christy had never worn anything so fine and thought the coin well spent. At home her usual attire consisted of the Macdonald plaid and homespun.

“Yer a vision,” Margot sighed, putting the final touches on Christy’s hair. “Yer sure to dazzle that scoundrel ye married. Make him fall in love with ye, Christy. ‘Twould serve the devil right.”

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