Seven Lovely Sins (The Northumberland Nine Book 7)

by Dayna Quince

  Callen lunged at Theo. Luna’s scream rang through his ears as he hit the ground and all the air left his lungs. He couldn’t breathe, but Callen’s stone fists pummeled his ribs relentlessly. They rolled side to side. Theo couldn’t tell up from down as a cloud of dust enveloped them, getting in his eyes.

  “Stop it! Stop it right now. You’re killing him!” Luna cried. They rolled again, and Theo took his first full breath. His head clearing, he froze, his arm cocked to nail his brother right in his wound. His heart stopped. Luna grabbed him and shook him. He locked eyes with his brother, but for a split second, it wasn’t Callen at all. He was looking down at himself. Luna shoved him again, and he snapped out of his daze. He lurched to his feet, spitting dust and blood from his mouth.

  Callen lay on the ground, panting, holding his side. Luna knelt beside him, tearing at his clothing to see his wound. Theo’s heart restarted, galloping as an icy fear penetrated his mind. What if he had killed his brother?

  Luna turned a withering glare at him. “Do you feel better? Is this how you imagine mature adults settle disagreements? Dueling with pistols, rolling around on the ground, throwing fists like children—like common dogs?” She shook her head at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Do you truly wish to stay in this wreck you call a life, hurting people who have cared for you? It seems that’s all you do, Theo. Hurt people. What good have you ever done for anyone?”

  He stumbled back, shame making his legs weak. He turned and ran, unable to face her, the condemnation in her eyes. How many people could a man hurt in his lifetime before he gave up on himself for good? He climbed the dodgy steps out of the ruins, only now recognizing where he was. He’d come through the passage all the way on the other side of the castle. He broke into a run, his ribs bruised from his deserved thrashing. He climbed the terrace steps and entered the castle, everything a blur as he passed through the halls, except for one face.

  He’d run right into Nicolette and Odette.

  “My God. What happened to you?”

  His mouth dried up. What could he possibly say?

  She searched his face before her lips pressed into a line. “Come with me.” She took his hand and dragged him up the stairs.

  “Nic, what are you doing?” Odette whispered as she followed them.

  “Go meet with Mr. Seyburn.”

  “Where are you taking him?”

  Nicolette paused and turned to her sister. Theo’s hand was limp in hers. Suddenly he gripped it. He had nothing else to hold on to, and he didn’t trust his own judgment right now. He’d rather someone else take over his life for him.

  “He needs me. There is a lot going on between him and his brother. Cover for me.”

  Odette’s eyes widened. Her gaze moved to Theo. “Very well.” She turned away, sending looks their way as she descended the stairs.

  Nicolette tugged him down the corridor toward her room. They passed no one else. Theo didn’t know what time of day it was or what event they were possibly missing. He was numb, following her blindly.

  She hauled him into her room and locked the door, shoving him onto the stool before her dressing table. She stood before him with her hands on her hips. He resigned himself to another lecture.

  But then she cupped his cheek and kneeled before him. He was reminded of the way Luna had tenderly cared for his brother. It shook him.

  “What happened?” she asked, her tone so soft and comforting he wanted to curl up in it and go to sleep.

  So much has happened.

  “I…” He swallowed.

  “What good have you ever done for anyone.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you fight with your brother again?”

  He nodded.

  “What did he say?” Her gaze wandered over him. “And why are you so filthy?”

  She wet a towel in the wash basin and began to wipe his face. He closed his eyes and let her tenderness wash over him.

  But he deserved none of it.

  “What good have you ever done for anyone.”

  “Nothing.”

  “What?” She paused in her ministrations.

  He gently pushed her hand away. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone. You’re upset.”

  He scoffed. “Don’t coddle me. I’m not a babe.”

  She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. They locked eyes.

  “You need coddling. Let someone take care of you for once. I promise you will still be just as manly as before.” She tossed the towel on the table.

  He couldn’t take it. Her words swamped him with uncomfortable emotions. He pulled her into his lap. “You can’t fix me.”

  “I know. There isn’t enough paste in the world for all your cracks. I accept you as you are.”

  Dear God. His throat grew tight and his eyes burned. “Don’t. I’ll only hurt you. I…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “I have to. Luna is right.”

  “Luna? What did Luna say?”

  He swallowed. “She said, what good have I ever done for anyone? And she’s right. I’m a selfish prick. I use people, I ignore responsibility, I—”

  “Enough. We all do that to some extent.”

  “Just listen to me.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “All right. Tell me how terrible you are, Theodore Denham.”

  He dropped his head to her shoulder. “I don’t know where to start. I’m exhausted.”

  “Then rest and tell me tomorrow.” She scooted off his lap.

  He reached for her, but she danced out of his grasp and turned down the covers on her bed. “Come. I’ll tuck you in.”

  He stared at the bed. This was a bad idea. Nicolette, a bed, his bruised and battered ego. A good fucking could go a long way to improving his mood. But… It would hurt Nicolette.

  He shook his head. “I should go.” He stood.

  She took his hand and tugged him to the side of the bed, pushing him down and tucking his legs under the covers with an efficiency that his depleted strength couldn’t counter. He was on his back and staring up at her frilly cream canopy. His eyes instantly grew heavy. Maybe he did need to rest. The soft mattress cradled him.

  “Sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to dress for dinner. No one will disturb you here.”

  Her voice was already far away. He’d much prefer she lay next to him, but he’d accept whatever he could get. He turned his head to the side, inhaling her scent from her pillow.

  Chapter 20

  Nic watched him, her heart aching. Why would Luna say such a terrible thing? So he’d made mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. He was atoning. She would never be convinced that he was a bad man. He wouldn’t look as he does, battered, broken, if he were. He wouldn’t be hurting this much if he didn’t care.

  She wanted to comfort him, crawl inside the bed, and hold him, but she was afraid. Would he push her away? He was trying so hard to do the right thing. But maybe the right thing wasn’t always the proper thing. Maybe being closer was the right thing. The exact thing she needed.

  She would never know unless she tried. But was she brave enough?

  There was only one way to find out.

  She kicked off her slippers and lifted the corner of the sheet.

  He sighed.

  She put one knee on the bed beside him and waited. He didn’t respond.

  As they say, in for a penny…

  She slid in beside him, sliding her arm across his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. He jerked awake.

  “Nic?”

  “I’m right here.”

  “I am painfully aware of that fact.”

  She sat up with a gasp. “What hurts?”

  He glanced down, and Nic followed his gaze. The coverlet tented over his groin.

  Oh.

  She bit her lip, warmth flooding her body. Her muscles softened against him as if her body had its own agenda.

  “I’m sorry.”

&nbs
p; “Don’t be sorry. You can’t help how tempting you are.”

  But she could help him. He’d given her so much pleasure, and she’d given him none in return. She peeked at the evidence of his state. Dare she ask? Or should she just take a chance?

  She moved her hand down to his belly and he tensed.

  “Don’t.”

  “I want to.”

  “I want you to as well, but we can’t take the risk. This is already a dangerous mix. Me in your bed, you…anywhere near me.”

  Her hand inched lower. “Let me do something for you.”

  “You already do something for me.”

  She smiled and glided her hand up the ridge of his manhood, the warm and firm organ a shock to her senses. She instinctually curled her hand around him, and he closed his eyes, moaning softly.

  “You’ll be the end of me.”

  “Hush and let me—” Love you, she’d almost said aloud. Dear God, she did. She loved this damaged man. Hidden scars and all. She wanted to leave with him, follow him wherever he might go, make wild love, and build a home wherever their road ended. “Touch you,” she said instead, and her voice almost broke. But she couldn’t tell him these things. He was not ready to hear them.

  Would her love be a burden he couldn’t carry?

  It didn’t matter. Right now, she could carry it on her own.

  She stroked him through the fabric of his trousers, the flexing of his hips and his soft groans guiding her along. She reached for the buttons, but he stopped her.

  “No. It’s too risky.”

  “I thought you liked risk?”

  His eyes snapped with desire. “I do, but I’m not doing anything to risk you.”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  “I’m not doing anything further.”

  She grinned. “Tell me how to please you. The score is uneven.”

  His jaw flexed. He pushed back the coverlet. “Straddle me.”

  Nic climbed over him, lifting her skirts out of the way. He held her hips, adjusting her over the hard ridge of his manhood.

  “God, you’re so warm and soft.”

  Nic resisted a shiver. The friction of his arousal against her core made her want to buck her hips.

  “What do I do?”

  “Move like this.” He rocked her hips against his hardness and a gasped escaped her. “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” she said on a sigh. She closed her eyes, and her head fell back.

  She took over the movement, and his hands wandered over her front, cupping her breasts. He squeezed her nipples through her bodice, and her womb throbbed. She bucked her hips faster.

  “God, yes, Nicolette,” he moaned. He sat up, taking her lips, his hands undoing her dress in the back, and he pulled her bodice down, freeing her breasts. He broke the kiss, bending his head to her breast and sucking her nipple into his mouth. Nic cried out, her release coming upon her so swift and ruthless she couldn’t catch her breath.

  He lay back, taking control of her hips. “Sweet, sweet Nicolette,” he said, his voice rough with passion. She cracked her eyes open, watching him watch her. His gaze on her breast, his grip deliciously rough on her hips. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, thrusting against her, moaning and cursing under his breath. He slowed, his breathing ragged as his grip on her hips eased.

  “You’ve killed me,” he said with a lazy smile.

  Nic leaned forward to kiss him. She’d never felt more alive.

  He grew drowsy again, and Nic slipped from his lap and cleaned herself. When she returned to the bed, he was snoring lightly. His face appeared more at ease.

  She took a deep breath, her heart swelling with love.

  She recalled what Luna had said to him, and a fire lit within her. She would not stand for it.

  She checked her appearance and then left her room in search of her sister.

  She went to Luna’s room first. They should all be preparing for dinner right now. She didn’t bother knocking but marched in and found Luna in her bed.

  “How could you say that to him? How could you say that to anyone?” Nic accused. “That’s just cruel. I would never have thought you could stoop to such a thing.”

  Luna frowned and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about Theo—Mr. Denham,” Nic corrected herself. “Who else would I be talking about?”

  Luna shuffled off the bed. “You have to stay away from him. He’s not a good person. He… He…”

  “He is a rogue, a rake, or whatever you want to believe, but I see something more than just a bad reputation. I see someone who needs a bit of kindness and a bit of forgiveness.”

  “He has you fooled.”

  Nic swallowed back her anger just enough to not reveal too much about her intimate relationship with Theo. “Then I’m a fool, but I’m also his friend, which is what he needs right now. Not to be treated like a criminal by his own brother. Lord Densmore has you fooled. What makes him so much better?”

  Luna scoffed. “Do you even hear yourself? Has he told you what he’s done?”

  “Yes, he’s told me about the duel, and why he was fighting it to begin with.”

  “Why he was fighting it to begin with?” She shook her head. “I beg you, Nic. You cannot trust him.”

  Nic scoffed. “And you trust Lord Densmore?”

  “I… I don’t know who I trust because it’s only been six days,” Luna returned. “Do you trust Theo after only six days? What has he done to earn your trust?”

  Nic stilled. “Point taken.” Though she did, didn’t she? She wouldn’t love him if she didn’t trust him.

  “Just please be careful, and I will do the same,” Luna said.

  Nic nodded. “So why did you say those things to him?”

  “He needed to hear them. Whether he goes or he stays in England, he needed to hear it. If my own perception of him is true, which you have no reason to doubt that it isn’t, then he could only learn from his pain, but he hasn’t wanted to. He hasn’t wanted to listen to anyone, and that was clear to me.”

  “There’s a lot of hurt between him and his brother,” Nic said. So much hurt. She didn’t know how to help him, but certainly blaming him wouldn’t help. She had a feeling he needed comfort and a fair dose of forgiveness more.

  “I noticed.” Luna turned away and began to dress. “If they won’t face it head on or even talk about it, it will never be resolved. After today…I don’t think it ever will.”

  Nic strolled closer, picking up Luna’s brush and combing out the tangles in Luna’s hair. This at least she understood how to do. She could argue with her sisters, but then they talked it out. They made solutions.

  “I feel so terrible for him, not having the kind of love we’ve shared with our siblings,” Nic said as she brushed. “It breaks my heart to think how alone he must feel. He’s so wounded and he makes me want to…pick him up and hold him like a bird.”

  Luna half smiled. “Fixing little birds is usually Georgie’s forte.”

  Nic grimaced. “I suppose I don’t have a forte, do I?”

  Luna touched her hand. “You keep our garden thriving.”

  “I don’t have a strength like, you know, like Georgie, like Bernie’s…”

  Luna let out a little half-laugh. “And what exactly is Bernie’s strength? Besides stirring up mischief and either enforcing Anne’s rules or rebelling against them?”

  Nic giggled, a bit of her sadness lifting. “I suppose that’s true.” She resumed brushing and re-pinned Luna’s hair into a coil on her head. Luna stood to change her gown.

  Nic frowned at Luna’s dress hem. “What the devil were you doing, kneeling in the dirt?”

  “I guess he didn’t tell you. They fought, rolling around in the dirt of the ruins—and Callen, Lord Densmore, was shot trying to stop the duel between Theo and Sir Kirby.”

  Nic stilled, biting her cheek. He hadn’t told her that. She lifted her chin. Well, she’d
make him see that honesty was required if he wanted to prove anything to her. Not that he’d made any promises. But surely in time he would see…

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have to dress for dinner as well.”

  Nic returned to her room, feeling off kilter after Luna’s revelation. He physically fought with his brother? Why didn’t he tell her that?

  Did it matter?

  Yes. Luna had asked if she trusted him. Did she? She must, she was in love with him.

  Wasn’t she?

  Yes. She wouldn’t question that. Her feelings toward him were unmistakable, but he’d hid things from her, and she didn’t know how to handle that. She wasn’t sure she knew how to handle him.

  He still lay on the bed. His foot twitched as she drew near, and his eyes slowly opened. He focused on her and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Not long. It’s time to dress for dinner.”

  He cocked his head. “Something is wrong.”

  “I just spoke with Luna.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you fought with your brother?”

  “I did.”

  “There is a distinct difference between verbal argument and fisticuffs.”

  “Don’t say fisticuffs. It sounds like we’re two drunk old men toughing it outside a tap room.”

  “You may as well be,” Nic muttered.

  He ran a hand through his hair and got out of the bed. “I should go.”

  “You’re not going to explain yourself?”

  “What is there to explain?”

  “Everything!” Nic covered her mouth. She couldn’t shout at him, not when all the rooms around them were filled with her sisters.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth. All of it. I want to believe in you. Please help me.”

  That desolate look returned to his eyes. “I don’t know how to be the man you need me to be.”

  “Start with not keeping things from me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the fact that your brother was shot trying to stop the duel.”