Sin: A Taste Of Sin Part 11

Christy stiffened. Sinjun had come too close to the truth for comfort.

"The truth, Christy," Sinjun prodded.

How could she explain that his bairn was the clan's future without sounding cold-blooded? Before she'd met Sinjun and fallen in love with him, giving Glenmoor an heir and thwarting Calum had been her primary goal. But the moment she learned she carried Sinjun's child, everything had changed. She loved Sinjun's bairn. Fiercely. She wanted the babe. Desperately. Her bairn would be a part of Sinjun. The only part she would ever have. How could she explain that to Sinjun?

"I cannot lie. At first, having your bairn was something I needed to do for the clan. To save Glenmoor for future generations. Later, your child became very real to me and I realized I wanted it for myself."

Sinjun chewed that over and realized he had acted irresponsibly in London. He bore half the blame for making a baby. He could have taken precautions instead of agreeing to the terms Christy had set forth for their affair, but at the time he'd been crazed with l.u.s.t and would have agreed to anything Christy wanted.

"Don't worry, Sinjun," Christy said, rus.h.i.+ng into the void left by his silence. "Your bairn will never lack for love. Nor will I make demands on you, if that's what you're concerned about. We don't need you. You can leave Glenmoor without regrets."

b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! Hearing that he wasn't needed did nothing for Sinjun's deflated ego.

Chapter 8.

Sinjun was up at dawn. Christy was sleeping peacefully, so he tried not to awaken her as he tiptoed from her chamber and returned to his own room to wash, shave, and dress. Rory was already in the hall when he arrived. He seated himself at the table just as Mary bustled in with Rory's oats. She glared at Sinjun, her usual cheerful mood replaced by a sour look.

"What will it be this morning, yer lords.h.i.+p?"

Sinjun eyed the oats Rory seemed to be enjoying and swallowed his distaste. "Perhaps I'll try oats this morning, Mary. And maybe a couple of eggs to go with it."

Mary's mouth twitched suspiciously, but she left too quickly for Sinjun to tell if she had actually smiled.

"Ye made Mary happy this morning, yer lords.h.i.+p," Rory said between mouthfuls of oats.

"If we're to work closely together, Rory, perhaps you should call me Sinjun."

"'Tisn't right," Rory muttered.

"It's right if I say it is."

"What is right?" Margot asked as she slid into a seat beside her husband.

"His lords.h.i.+p asked me to call him Sinjun," Rory explained.

She eyed Sinjun with a healthy dose of suspicion. "Why would ye do that, yer lords.h.i.+p?"

"All this 'your lords.h.i.+p'is daunting. My friends call me Sinjun, or Derby, and I'd feel more at home if both you and Rory called me Sinjun."

"If ye say so, yer ... Sinjun," Margot said, clearly uncomfortable using his name. "Where is Christy? She's usually down before now."

Sinjun a.s.sumed an innocent look. "Still abed. She must have had a restless night."

Margot and Rory exchanged knowing looks, then Margot shot to her feet. "Perhaps I should go up and see if she's all right." She rushed off in a flurry of petticoats.

Sinjun was all too aware of Rory's censuring look. "Spit it out, man. If you've anything to say, get it off your chest."

"Verra well, yer lords.h.i.+p, I mean Sinjun. We all love Christy. None of us wants to see her hurt."

Sinjun saw Mary approaching. He waited until she set his bowl of oats and plate of eggs before him and marched away before answering. "Christy carries my child. What makes you think I'd harm her?"

"I ken how angry ye were with her when ye arrived at Glenmoor."

"I've forgiven her for tricking me. Perhaps I deserved it. Ask Christy if you don't believe me."

"Ask me what?"

Sinjun swiveled around at the sound of her voice. She and Margot had entered the hall so quietly that he hadn't heard them. She looked tired but radiant nevertheless. Pregnancy agreed with her.

"Tm having the devil's own time convincing your kinsman that I mean you no harm."

"Sinjun isn't going to hurt me, Rory," Christy said. "At least not physically," she added in an undertone that didn't reach Rory.

Sinjun heard and decided to ignore it. Instead, he lifted a spoonful of gruel to his mouth and swallowed before he had time to think about it. Though the taste almost gagged him, he managed to keep it down.

"Sinjun! You're eating oats," Christy exclaimed, clearly amused. "I thought you didn't like oats."

"Sometimes one has to swallow things one doesn't like," he said as he choked down another spoonful of gruel. Somehow he managed to finish the entire contents of the bowl, was.h.i.+ng it down with generous gulps of ale. Then he attacked the eggs, which were more to his liking.

"I thought we'd inspect the sheep today," Sinjun said, eager to enjoy the fine, brisk day. It had been a long time since he'd risen early and ridden for the pure joy of it in so invigorating an environment.

"Bring something along to eat in case we don't make it back in time for the noon meal, Rory," Sinjun added as he sc.r.a.ped his chair back.

"Dress warmly," Christy advised. "And watch your back for Camerons," she added.

Sinjun sent her a c.o.c.ky grin. "I have my bodyguard, remember?"

The hills and moors were white with frost; Sinjun's breath hung in the air like heavy mist. The day was dismal with the promise of snow, but Sinjun's exuberance couldn't be dimmed this morning. Christy had spent the night in his arms.

They found the sheep huddled together in a sheltered valley. Sinjun reined in his horse and took pleasure in watching them. Though he'd had nothing to do with their care, pride swelled his chest. The flock was a large one, several hundred, he estimated, and each and every one wore a thick coat of wool. Come spring and shearing, profit from the sale of the fleece would be substantial. Sinjun had paid little heed to business in the past, but he did know that the price of wool hadn't slackened in several years and wondered why Sir Oswald had said otherwise. It just didn't make sense. Somewhere in the far reaches of his brain he began to suspect that Sir Oswald might be lining his own pockets while robbing the estate and its shepherds of their fair share.

Sinjun made an effort to speak with the shepherds. They answered his questions readily enough but appeared wary of his interest. He learned that not all the sheep belonged to Glenmoor. Some were owned by clansmen and tended along with Sinjun's flock. After he'd seen how well the flock was being cared for, Sinjun decided to visit the Ra.n.a.ld stronghold.

"The Ra.n.a.lds are loyal to Laird Christy," Rory explained. "They accepted Laird Christy without question. Tavis Ra.n.a.ld, the clan's chieftain, and old Angus Macdonald had been fast friends. Except for a few of the younger, more militant Ra.n.a.lds, they are farmers and sheepherders, unlike the thieving Camerons, who make their living stealing their neighbors' livestock."

"I thought the Camerons were your allies," Sinjun said. He would never understand these Highlanders and the workings of the clans.

"Aye. They are our allies but we know better than to turn our backs on them. Tis no secret that Calum Cameron expected to become laird when Angus left no male heir except for some distantly related Macdonalds like myself. They complained bitterly when Angus named Christy their overlord. There was even talk of joining the Campbells, our sworn enemies. But nothing ever came of that."

"Forget the Camerons," Sinjun said. "'Tis the Ra.n.a.lds I'm interested in now. Is that their village up ahead?"

The Ra.n.a.ld stronghold consisted of an a.s.sortment of stone cottages not far from the Macdonald stronghold. As Sinjun expected, his appearance caused quite a stir. A st.u.r.dy old man who, Sinjun imagined, would have been a force to be reckoned with at one time, stepped out of his cottage to greet his visitors.

He nodded to Rory before directing his words at Sinjun. "I am Tavis Ra.n.a.ld, chieftain of Clan Ra.n.a.ld. What business do ye have with the Ra.n.a.lds, yer lords.h.i.+p?"

"You know who I am?" Sinjun asked.

"Aye. I was at Glenmoor the day ye arrived. We heard ye were staying. Is it true?"

There had been so many people gathered in the hall the day Sinjun had arrived he hadn't had time to sort them out yet. Besides, he'd only had eyes for Christy that day. "I'm staying for the time being," Sinjun allowed. "I wanted to thank you for defending Laird Christy when the Camerons tried to force a rebellion."

"I wouldna flout Angus's wishes. Laird Christy is his granddaughter and that was good enough for Ra.n.a.lds."

Sinjun had made a hasty inspection of the cottages as he'd ridden in, and he'd noticed they were in no better repair than those at Glenmoor village.

"As I speak, workmen are repairing the cottages at Glenmoor village. I couldn't help noticing that some minor repairs wouldn't be remiss here. After the work is finished at Glenmoor I could send the workmen here, at my expense, of course."

Tavis's eyes narrowed. "Why would ye do that, yer lords.h.i.+p? To my knowledge, ye have never cared for yer wife or yer holdings. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Sinjun knew these Highlanders had no reason to trust him. The Crown had taken their land, forbidden them to wear kilts or play the bagpipe, and married the daughters of their n.o.blemen to Englishmen. He knew he had instilled scant trust in these Highlanders throughout the years. He had ignored his Scottish wife and taken little interest in his holdings.

"Let's just say it's time I devoted some attention to my holdings."

"Did ye mean what ye said about the quarterly levies? 'Twould ease our burden considerably if we didna have to pay them."

"I meant every word, Tavis Ra.n.a.ld. I've asked my brother to look into the recent increases. I'm beginning to suspect there is more involved than meets the eye. I intend to adjust the future levies as soon as I hear from Lord Mansfield."

"Would ye and Rory like to take a bite with me and me wife, yer lords.h.i.+p? We'd be pleased to have both of ye share our meal. Nothing fancy, but Meg is a good cook."

"What say you, Rory?" Sinjun asked, pleased with Ra.n.a.ld's invitation. It was the first tenuous sign that he might find acceptance among his tenants.

"My stomach is touching my backbone. A bite to eat wouldna be remiss," Rory said, grinning. "Meg Ra.n.a.ld is the best cook around. Dinna tell Mary I said that"

Sinjun laughed. "Mary wouldn't believe anything I said. I don't think she likes me."

The meal was simple but ample and well prepared. Cold mutton, coa.r.s.e bread, boiled potatoes. Everything tasted so good, that Sinjun embarra.s.sed himself by cleaning his plate and asking for more. He supposed the cold air had sparked his appet.i.te.

Before Sinjun and Rory left, Tavis agreed to let Sinjun finance repairs to the cottages. They parted on friendly terms, considering he was an Englishman.

After they left the Ra.n.a.ld holdings, Sinjun decided to visit Glenmoor village. Repairs were well underway when they arrived. Rory was greeted with enthusiasm, and Sinjun, with cautious optimism. A few shy smiles were directed at him by the ladies whose homes would receive new roofs and other amenities, and Sinjun considered that a very good beginning.

On impulse, Sinjun dismounted, hefted a bale of thatch over his shoulder, and carried it up a ladder to one of the workmen. When Rory saw what Sinjun was doing, he joined in. They didn't leave until the first glimmer of darkness fell over the land. Then, tired, aching in every muscle yet feeling a sense of accomplishment he'd never felt before, Sinjun returned to Glenmoor.

A contingent of Camerons was waiting for him in the hall. Sinjun groaned aloud. Camerons were the last people he wanted to see right now. He wanted to soak in a tub, eat, then make love to Christy. His loins stirred and his breeches suddenly felt too tight. Thinking about Christy always brought the same heady response, and he wondered why Lady Violet, or any other woman of his acquaintance, had never affected him in the same way.

"Ye visited the Ra.n.a.lds," Calum charged when Sinjun strode into the hall. Sinjun's nostrils flared with jealousy when he saw Calum sitting beside Christy. Nor did he like the way Calum looked at Christy. Too possessive, for one thing.

"Aye, does that bother you?"

"Yer turning our clansmen against the Camerons."

"I don't recall mentioning the Camerons in the course of my conversation with Tavis Ra.n.a.ld. Is there something else you wanted to discuss?"

"Dinna come snooping around the Cameron stronghold," Calum warned. "We dinna want ye there."

"Aren't the Macdonalds, Camerons, Ra.n.a.lds, and Mackenzies allies? Isn't Christy your overlord?" Sinjun asked.

"Aye, 'tis true enough. 'Tis yer lords.h.i.+p we feel no kins.h.i.+p with. We want nothing from ye, Derby. Highlanders are a proud breed. We want no reminders of our defeat at Culloden."

"That was fifteen years ago, Cameron," Sinjun reminded him.

"We have long memories," Calum retorted. "The day our land is returned to us is the day we'll stop hating Englishmen."

With a nod to his clansmen, Calum stormed from the hall. Sinjun glanced at Christy, saw her troubled look, and went to her.

"What did he say to you?" he asked. "If he threatened you in any way-"

"Nothing has changed. He wants power and is angry because I didn't seek an annulment in London. He considered an unconsummated marriage no marriage at all and was prepared to take me by force. With me as his wife, Calum would be in a position to lead an uprising. He never dreamed I would return with your bairn in my belly. Your heir is a threat to his ambitions."

"Forget Calum. The Ra.n.a.lds are still your allies. You have nothing to fear from Calum."

"You don't know Calum, Sinjun. You should heed his warnings. 'Tis not too late to return to London before snow and ice make the roads impa.s.sable."

"Do you want me to go?"

Sinjun held his breath. For the first time in his life he felt needed. Lord Sin was but a distant memory. St.John Thornton was a different man, living in another time and place. Today he'd used muscles he hadn't even known he had, and it felt d.a.m.n good. Food had never tasted so good, simple though it was, and the air had never smelled so fresh, not even at his country estate in Kent.

Christy stared at him, finding nothing to remind her of Lord Sin, London's darling. What she saw was a man whose face was windburned and ruddy from the cold. He had lost his London pallor, and Christy had never seen Sinjun eat with such obvious enjoyment.

"Ye should have seen Sinjun work today," Rory confided. "He lifted bales of thatch all afternoon. I'll bet his muscles are aching. Mine are, and I'm no stranger to hard work."

Sinjun frowned. "You make me sound as if I spent my entire life in useless pursuits."

Christy smothered a laugh. "Didn't you?"

A slow smile lit his face. "I suppose you're right, though I did ride, fence, and box to tone my muscles."

"Ye'll be wanting a hot bath, Rory," Margot said. "Come along, I'll see to it"

"Ask the kitchen boys to carry up a tub for Lord Derby," Christy called after them.

"Set it up in Christy's room before the fire," Sinjun added. "And ask Mary if she has any liniment for sore muscles."

Christy c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at him. "Just because we shared a bed last night doesn't mean we're going to do it every night. I meant what I said, Sinjun. If you can't be the kind of husband and father I need, then I can't let our relations.h.i.+p become important to me."

"Many husbands and wives live apart. Tis a way of life."

That wasn't what Christy wanted to hear. "Is that Lord Sin talking?"

"Christy, I'm not going to change overnight. Suffice it to say I'm content for the time being. I love seeing you ripen with our child, and I vow I'm eager to see him enter the world."

"Her," Christy countered, notching her chin upward. "I'm having a la.s.sie."