A month sped by. Then another. At the end of her second month as Sinjun’s mistress, Christy had every reason to believe she was pregnant. She had missed her monthly flow by two weeks and there was still no sign of it. But to be absolutely certain, she decided to remain until the end of the third month, just as she had originally planned. As her deadline approached, it became apparent to Christy that if she didn’t remove herself mentally from Sinjun she wouldn’t be able to leave at all. That night, after they returned from the opera, Christy attempted to separate herself from her body’s response to Sinjun’s loving.
After Sinjun had made love to her, he looked at her strangely and asked, “Are you not feeling well tonight?”
Had she been that obvious? “I feel fine. Why do you ask?”
“You seem distracted. Tiring of me already?” His voice was light and teasing, but his expression was intense.
“ Tis almost time for me to leave,” she reminded him.
She felt him stiffen. “Leave? No!” He went very still. “Are you increasing?”
“Do you really want to know? Let’s just say ‘tis time I leave London and return to my husband.”
“Bloody hell! I’m not ready for you to leave. If you were honest, you’d admit you want to stay.”
“It doesn’t matter what either of us wants,” Christy said in a hushed voice. “I gave my word. Lord Randall expects me home.”
“Promise you’ll give us more time together,” Sinjun pleaded.
Christy couldn’t believe her ears. Lord Sin begging? That was likely to be a first. “I cannot,” she said on a sigh. “Please do not ask it of me.”
Sinjun made a growling sound deep in his throat and pulled her beneath him. What transpired next was so savage, so utterly devastating, that it left her feeling bruised and more than a little frightened of her growing desire for her husband.
Two weeks after their conversation Sinjun felt fairly certain that Flora had abandoned her plan to leave London any time soon. In fact, the subject had not been broached again. Their coupling, as always, was wildly passionate and immensely satisfying for both of them; parting now was unthinkable. There was so much more he wanted to know about Lady Flora Randall. He knew her shapely, responsive body as intimately as his own, but she remained a mystery in every way except sexually.
During his latest visit to White’s, Sinjun learned that a wager had been placed on the betting books as to the date Lord Sin would end his association with his current mistress. It probably would happen, Sinjun supposed, but his passion for Lady Flora was still too powerful to let her slip away.
He began his campaign to keep her in town by giving her emeralds to match her eyes. Next he presented her with a diamond bracelet, then a tiara. Nothing was too expensive for her. The pleasure with which she accepted the gifts warmed his heart, but a certain wariness in her green eyes made him uneasy.
There were no lights in the windows of Flora’s rented townhouse when Sinjun arrived to escort her to the opera one night about three months into their passionate affair. A feeling of dread crawled up his spine as he pounded on the door. When no answer was forthcoming, he turned the knob. The moment the door opened beneath his hand he knew that she was gone. He detected no spark of life, only emptiness, as if the heart had gone out of the house. Unwilling to accept the only plausible answer, Sinjun took the stairs two at a time. The rooms were cold and lifeless. He flung open the wardrobe. Empty. His curses echoed hollowly in the barren chamber when he spotted the gifts he had given her lying in full view on the nightstand. He scooped the jewels into his pocket and stormed out of the house.
Gone! She had left without a word or proper good-bye. Damn her! What kind of woman was she? Did she care nothing for his feelings? Had he not been generous enough with her? His other mistresses had received less from him and hadn’t complained. But the weight of the jewelry in his pocket banished the uncharitable notion that Flora was greedy. It was the old man she was married to, Sinjun thought angrily. Though they had never discussed feelings, the thought that she loved her elderly husband more than she enjoyed his company battered his ego.
Determined to forget the callous Lady Flora, Sinjun headed to White’s, where he proceeded to get roaring drunk and gamble as if his pockets had no bottom. He was well into his cups when Rudy spotted him in the card room.
“Sinjun! I haven’t seen you alone in months. Have you and your mistress parted ways already? I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”
“If you can find her, she’s yours,” Sinjun muttered as he slammed down another losing hand and rose unsteadily. “Good night, gentlemen. It seems the cards are trying to tell me something.”
Rudy grasped his arm to steady him. “I’ll be damned! You’re foxed. This isn’t like you, Sinjun.”
Sinjun shoved him away. “Go to hell, Rudy.”
“Come on, Sinjun. Let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“The hell you don’t. You can barely stand. Where is your carriage?”
“S-s-sent it home,” Sinjun mumbled, slurring the words. “I’m afoot.”
“I’ll take you in my rig,” Rudy said, guiding him out the door. “You can tell me what’s wrong while I drive.”
“Not a damn thing wrong that a few drinks and a hot woman won’t cure. Drop me off at Violet’s townhouse. I hear her husband is still in Scotland.”
“You wouldn’t do Violet or yourself any good in your condition,” Rudy chided. He picked up the ribbons, and his team lurched forward. “What happened?”
A tense silence followed, then Sinjun growled, “Flora left. Gone without a word.”
“So what? Since when did Lord Sin let a woman disrupt his life? You’ve never had a problem moving on before. You knew she had a husband waiting for her in Cornwall.” He sent Sinjun an incredulous look. “Don’t tell me she stole your heart.”
Mellowed by drink, Sinjun admitted to something he wouldn’t have had he been sober. “Flora was different, Rudy, and that’s all I’m going to say.”
“Bloody hell! You are smitten. Tis not like you, my friend. What are you going to do? Will you pursue her?”
Sinjun’s reputation was at stake. He’d never chased after a woman in his life and wasn’t about to start now. So what if he felt at loose ends and without direction? So what if his ego had been battered? There were plenty of other women to take her place, should he want one.
“Hell no! Her husband is more than welcome to her.”
Following Flora’s departure, Sinjun embarked on a path of self-destruction even more dissolute than usual. Though he didn’t take another mistress, he was seen with various women of the ton as well as ladies of easy virtue. Lord Sin’s excesses grew even more unpredictable and wild as he tried to purge Lady Flora from his mind and heart. It wasn’t like him to obsess over a woman, and he reacted by embarking upon a life of debauchery that made his previous excesses seem tame by comparison.
Ultimately his libidinous conduct reached Julian’s ears. He stormed into Sinjun’s townhouse one morning about a month after Christy’s departure and pulled him from bed at the ungodly hour of noon. Sinjun glared at his brother through bloodshot eyes.
“I’m not in the mood to be lectured, Julian.”
“You’re going to listen whether or not you like it. You can’t go on like this, Sinjun. Your excesses are getting out of hand, even for a man of your unsavory reputation. Is your parting with Lady Flora the reason you’re hell-bent on self-destruction?”
“I don’t wish to discuss Flora,” Sinjun groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his aching head in his hands. “She’s gone. Left a month ago without so much as a good-bye.”
Hands behind his back, Julian began to pace. “The lady is married, Sinjun, what did you expect? What’s gotten into you? Mistresses come and go. What makes this affair different from the others?”
“Dammit, Julian, you have no right to question me. Perhaps you’re more discreet than I, bu
t your own affairs aren’t above reproach. For instance, where do you disappear to several times a year? Everyone thinks you have a woman stashed away somewhere; someone not fit to meet your peers. What is she, a Gypsy? Or someone even worse? At least I’m more forthcoming than you are.”
“More forthcoming and more debauched,” Julian muttered irritably. “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”
“Come back later. I’m not fit company.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll be gone several weeks. That’s another reason I wanted to speak to you. You’ve been avoiding Mansfield Place, I had to come to you.”
“Does Emma know you’re leaving?”
“Of course. I’ve asked Aunt Amanda to move into Mansfield Place to look after Emma during my absence. I expect you to escort them about while I’m away.”
Sinjun sent his brother a disgruntled look. “Where are you off to this time?”
“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that information. I’ll expect you to control your excesses when you’re with Emma. The girl is willful enough without your example of debauchery.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Julian,” Sinjun blasted. “I’ll do as I damn well please.”
“A word of advice before I leave,” Julian said. “Go to Scotland and fetch your wife. With all the talk of unrest in the Highlands, Christy needs to know she has a husband she can count on.”
“The hell with Christy Macdonald,” Sinjun muttered. “I was forced to marry against my will, but I don’t have to live with her.”
“Is that why you’ve wasted your life on useless pursuits? I knew you were bitter about your marriage, but I never suspected you would rebel by embarking upon a wastrel’s life. Wake up, Sinjun. You’re not the only one forced to wed unwillingly.”
“Don’t preach, Julian. Why should I fetch my wife when I’m satisfied with the way things are now? She will only complicate my life.”
“I can see I’m wasting my time,” Julian said with a hint of regret. “Just remember, I love you too well to see you waste your life. Don’t let your behavior shame Emma. I’ll talk to you when I return.”
“I love you, too, Julian, but you can’t run my life.” Shaking his head, Julian quietly left the room.
Frustrated, Sinjun flopped down upon the bed. He knew he was out of control, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He kept himself drunk because sobriety hurt. When sober, Flora consumed his thoughts. He relived each moment with her, recalling her sweet kisses, the way her body responded to him, her passion, the bliss he’d found in her arms. Despite the constant ache of missing her, he hated her for leaving him at loose ends.
Bewilderment and battered pride were making him bitter. Were Flora to return, he couldn’t predict how he would react. Flora had left him without a word of good-bye, and his confusion regarding his feelings for the heartless chit was disconcerting. He didn’t want to feel anything.
Though Julian’s lecture had made him uncomfortable, he knew his brother was right. He had never before drunk himself to oblivion, or spent so much time in gambling hells, or paid women of easy virtue he’d picked up in Covent Gardens. Even Rudy had expressed disgust at his excesses, and Rudy was no angel.
Julian’s words continued to weigh on Sinjun’s conscience. To please Julian and keep Emma’s regard during Julian’s absence, Sinjun resolved to make a concerted effort to behave around his sister. On those nights he wasn’t required to squire Emma and Aunt Amanda to various functions, he was free to indulge himself. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed waking up the next day with a big head, wondering how much money he’d gambled away or which friend he’d insulted; it was just that he had this compelling need to prove to the world that Flora had been nothing more to him than a passing fancy.
Julian returned to London a month later. The note he sent Sinjun requested his immediate presence. Wondering what Julian had heard about him now, Sinjun removed himself to Mansfield Place with undue haste. Julian received him in the library, his face a study of concern.
“What is it now, Julian?” Sinjun asked as he flopped into a comfortable chair before the hearth. “I did what you asked. Emma found my conduct as an escort quite satisfactory.”
Julian thrust long, tapered fingers though a fine head of dark hair, clearly upset about something.
“Spit it out, brother. Is it my behavior again?”
“Not this time, Sinjun. This concerns your wife.”
“Christy Macdonald?”
“Aye. A message from your bailiff at Glenmoor awaited me when I returned home. There’s trouble. Sir Oswald reports that the crofters have refused to pay the current levies. I’ve been handling your business because you professed to have no head for it, but ‘tis time you accepted responsibility and took charge.”
“I told you before,” Sinjun repeated, “tell the king to send his soldiers to set them straight.”
“‘Tis more serious than that, Sinjun. I don’t know how this is going to set with you, but Sir Oswald heard rumors that your wife is expecting a child.”
Sinjun leaped to his feet. “What! Has she no shame? No honor? How could she do this to me?”
Disgust colored Julian’s words. “How can you expect her to honor her marriage vows when your own conduct is less than noble? You’ve flaunted your mistresses without a thought for your wife’s feelings.”
“‘Tis different for men,” Sinjun claimed. “Christy Macdonald is not a courtesan. Those kind of women are sought after by men for their beauty and experience. Christy is a Highland lass, neither beautiful nor experienced.”
Julian’s fine eyebrows arched sharply upward. “How do you know what she looks like? You’ve not seen her since she was a child of seven. I’d say her patience wore thin waiting for you to claim her.”
“Don’t preach, Julian. If the rumors are true, Christy is no better than a whore.”
“You have no choice now, Sinjun. You’d best hie yourself to Scotland and straighten out this mess.”
“Aye,” Sinjun allowed. “But before I leave, I intend to obtain a writ of annulment from the courts. If Christy is indeed increasing, I’ll present the document for her signature, assuming she can write.”
“You were given stewardship of Glenmoor into perpetuity, and that stewardship included a wife. Both are your responsibility.”
“Glenmoor belongs to me and my heirs, I know that. But I will not have a whore for a wife. An annulment is inevitable if I find Christy carrying another man’s child.”
“I’ve asked Sir Oswald to return to London to make a full report on the situation in the Highlands.”
“I can’t wait for his return,” Sinjun said, determined to confront his wife with her infidelity. For many years he’d enjoyed the freedom marriage granted him without being burdened with a wife, but Christy’s behavior went beyond anything he could condone. No bastard was going to bear the Thornton name if he had anything to say about it.
Julian’s intervention helped Sinjun obtain a speedy writ of annulment that required only Christy’s signature.
Sinjun left London within the month. In a way he was grateful for the distraction for it served to keep thoughts of Flora from overtaking his life.
He traveled in his own coach, staying at posting inns along the way. When no inns were available, he found accommodations with English nobles eager to provide a night’s lodging to Lord Mansfield’s brother, a man whose reputation had preceded him. Lord Sin’s exploits had been the talk of the ton for years.
After two weeks of exhausting travel over nearly impassible roads, Sinjun spied the aging turrets of Glenmoor.
Chapter 5
Perched on a bluff overlooking the loch, Christy folded her legs beneath her, pulled her cloak closer around her narrow shoulders, and stared out across water that reflected the color of the gray clouds scudding overhead. Christy loved this land. The heather-topped moors, the craggy mountains, even the mist that clung to the ground and hung over the loch. She heaved a heavy sigh as her tho
ughts wandered back to London and Sinjun. Two months had passed since she’d left him but it seemed like an eternity.
It hadn’t been an easy two months. The weather hadn’t cooperated, and the coach ride home had kept her in a constant state of nausea. Rutted roads mired in mud had made the journey perilous, and the situation she’d returned to at Glenmoor was explosive.
Calum Cameron had been stirring up trouble in her absence. When she’d explained that she and Sinjun had reconciled and arrived at an amicable agreement concerning their marriage, he had been livid. He had expected her to return from London a free woman and take him as her husband.
Telling Calum and her clansmen that she was expecting Sinjun’s bairn hadn’t been easy. There had been an outcry of disbelief and disappointment Clearly no one wanted to believe she was carrying an Englishman’s child.
“I thought I’d find ye here.”
Christy started violently, surprised to see Calum bearing down on her. “Calum, you shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that. You frightened me out of my skin.”
Calum, a hulking giant of a man with shaggy brown hair and bulging muscles, hunkered down beside her. Instinctively Christy scooted away. She wasn’t exactly afraid of Calum, but the look in his blue eyes unnerved her. He would make a powerful enemy.
“We need to talk.”
“About clan business?” Christy asked, pretending to misunderstand his meaning.
His cold blue gaze raked her figure, intense with loathing. “Nay, about us.”
“There is no us, Calum. I have a husband. I’ve been married nearly three quarters of my life.”
“Ye know yer clansmen dinna accept that English swine as yer husband. We canna forget that our land has been taken from us and our freedom denied the day our fathers were defeated at Culloden. Yer own father and brothers died that day. Lord Derby shames us all by his lack of interest in his wife and lands.”
A Taste of Sin Page 7
