Sin: A Taste Of Sin Part 18

"Sinjun, you're not paying attention," Alice whined. "I hope you're more attentive after we're married."

Sinjun returned his attention to Alice, suddenly aware that he didn't give a d.a.m.n about her. Nor had he any intention of marrying her. The sooner she knew it the better off they'd both be.

"There's not going to be a wedding, Alice," he said evenly. "I'm afraid we don't suit."

Alice's face hardened, turning almost ugly as she sputtered indignantly, "What do you mean, we don't suit? I had my heart set on becoming a marchioness."

Sinjun swiveled his head for a last glimpse of the coach bearing the widow and silently upbraided himself for being fanciful. Cursing himself for a fool, he tried to concentrate on Alice. She'd expected to become his wife and he'd let her believe it would happen. Normally he wasn't a cruel man, but since Christy ... well, it had amused him to let Alice believe he would marry her. h.e.l.l, he'd even convinced himself that marrying Alice was what he wanted. Until he'd caught a glimpse of a s.h.i.+ny copper curl.

"There won't be a wedding, Alice," he repeated.

Alice's eyes grew positively glacial, and her voice even more so. "I beg your pardon."

"I'm a married man."

He tooled the grays through the gate and into the busy thoroughfare. "You, my lord, are a liar. Everyone knows you are no longer married."

"Everyone is wrong. I neglected to file the annulment doc.u.ment," Sinjun muttered, wanting a drink so badly his hands shook.

She gave him a predatory smile. "I can change your mind. Come home with me now. Let me show you what marriage to me can be like."

Sinjun guided the carriage around the corner and pulled up in front of Alice's townhouse. "Perhaps another time, my lady. I suddenly find myself eager to become hopelessly drunk."

Alice allowed Sinjun to hand her down from the carriage, molding herself against him with wanton disregard for propriety. "You and I aren't finished, Lord Sin," she murmured huskily as she lifted her face and pressed her lips to his. With a laugh and toss of her head, she hurried into the house.

Sinjun climbed into his carriage, Alice already a dim memory. He was going to meet Rudy and drown his anger at a certain Scottish laird in a bottle. If he was still able to stand at the end of the day, perhaps he could sleep without dreaming of Christy in Calum's arms.

Christy knew Sinjun had seen her but felt confident the veil had kept her ident.i.ty a secret. Still, she couldn't forget the way he'd stared. He didn't look well, she thought. His heavy-lidded eyes sported purple circles, and he appeared to have lost weight. Christy couldn't help but notice where Sinjun's hand had been when they had driven past ... on the lady's breast. The pain it caused her was like a knife in the gut. Christy hadn't expected Sinjun to remain celibate, they were no longer married, after all, but the searing agony of seeing his hands on another woman sickened her.

At least Sinjun was alive, a voice in her head whispered.

The following day Christy set out to look for work. Spending her days in Hyde Park waiting for a glimpse of Sinjun was consuming her life and making her miserable. Gavin drove her to Bond Street, where most of the fas.h.i.+onable shops were located.

"Return for me in two hours," Christy told Gavin as she surveyed the various shops just opening for business.

A shop called Paris Fas.h.i.+ons caught her eye, and she marched determinedly toward the exclusive store, which sported an elegantly arrayed mannequin in the window.

So intent was she on making a good impression that she paid little heed to the man exiting the gentlemen's tailor shop nearby.

"Lady Flora! How wonderful to see you again."

Christy whirled, startled to see Lord Blakely hurrying to catch up with her. She felt the blood rush from her face and she would have given anything to turn and flee. But it was too late. The viscount had already reached her, his smile warmly genuine.

"I caught a glimpse of you a week or so ago but wasn't able to catch your attention. When did you return to London?"

"A ... a few weeks ago," Christy said, stumbling over the words.

"Is your husband with you this time?"

It took Christy a moment to recall the elderly husband she had invented. "He ... he died," Christy stammered.

"I'm sorry, my lady. You weren't wearing mourning, so I a.s.sumed..."

"You've nothing to apologize for, my lord. Before he died, my husband made me promise not to go into deep mourning after his pa.s.sing. He'd been ill a long time and died shortly after I returned from London. 'Tis why I left London in such a hurry. I was called home to be with him at the end."

"Does Sinjun know you've returned?"

"I ... no. 'Tis better this way. What Sinjun and I had ended when I returned to ... Cornwall."

"Then I'm in luck," Rudy crowed gleefully. "May I call on you? Or is it too soon after losing your husband?"

"'Tis too soon," Christy demurred. "I'm sorry."

Rudy's handsome face mirrored his disappointment. "I was hoping you'd agree to attend the masked ball my grandmother, the dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Langston, is giving on Sat.u.r.day."

"Why me? I'm sure there are scores of women eager for your company."

He gave her a rakish grin. "There are, but I prefer you. Will you reconsider, Lady Flora? Everyone who's anyone will be there."

"Even Sinjun?"

"If he can stay sober long enough to attend. But I won't let him bother you, if that is your wish."

Christy's mind whirled. The opportunity to see Sinjun without being recognized was tempting. She could wear a wig to disguise the color of her hair and a mask that covered everything but her lips. It was unlikely that she would come face to face with him, considering the crush of people who attended a society event. If she did, she would face that obstacle when she came to it.

"I hope your silence means you're reconsidering," Rudy said hopefully.

She'd be crazy to contemplate appearing anywhere Sinjun might show up, she told herself. But after the things Emma had said about him, she had to see him, to judge for herself whether Emma had exaggerated his state of mind.

"Actually, I have reconsidered," Christy said after a lengthy pause. "I accept your invitation to attend your grandmother's ball."

"Splendid!" Rudy enthused. "Give me your direction and I'll call for you on Sat.u.r.day."

No, that wouldn't do at all, Christy decided. She would only give out her address if Rudy agreed to certain conditions. "Before I give you my direction, you must promise to give it to no one, including Sinjun. 'Tis the only way I'll agree to go with you. Also, I want my ident.i.ty to remain a secret."

Rudy frowned. "What an odd request. How am I to introduce you?"

"However you wish, as long as no one knows I'm Flora Randall." Or Christy Macdonald, she thought but did not say.

"If that's the only way you'll accept my invitation, then I agree."

"I'm serious, my lord," Christy stressed. "You're not to tell Lord Derby where I live. Your word of honor."

"You have it, Lady Flora," Rudy pledged. "I don't know what happened between you and Sinjun and I don't want to know, but your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you, my lord. You may call for me on Sat.u.r.day." She gave him her address, and if he was surprised by the less than fas.h.i.+onable section of town in which she resided, he was too much of the gentleman to mention it.

They parted a few minutes later, and Christy continued down the street. What had she done? she chided herself. Meeting Sinjun, with or without a mask, was asking for trouble. Her instincts had hummed a warning, and she had refused to heed it.

Emma's description of Sinjun's current state of mind had given her so much guilt that she had to see for herself what her deceit had wrought. How she wished she could have explained everything to Emma. She felt certain that Emma would agree that an angry, out of control Sinjun was better than a dead one.

Christy had no luck finding work that day or the next. To Christy's chagrin, Madam Sofia had warned every modiste on Bond Street and beyond that hiring Christy Macdonald would cost them their clientele. Before too long Christy realized that finding work in the fas.h.i.+onable shops on Bond Street was no longer possible. She'd have to go farther abroad to find employment, to the modistes who catered to actresses, mistresses, and high-cla.s.s prost.i.tutes.

Sinjun no more wanted to attend the dowager d.u.c.h.ess's masked ball tonight man he wanted to hang himself from the rafters, but he had promised Rudy he'd attend. He supposed Alice would be there, and he'd have to spend the entire evening avoiding her. He'd been wrong to let her believe he was free to marry when in truth he was still wed to Christy. Not for the first time he wondered why he had dragged his feet regarding the annulment.

Initially he'd decided to wait for Julian to return. But since he had no idea when Julian's mysterious business would bring him home, that excuse was rather lame. Then he'd misplaced the doc.u.ment and just recently found it stuck at the very back of his desk drawer.

As he paced his chamber, waiting for Pemburton to have his bathwater brought up to the bathing room, Sinjun mulled over the startling bit of information Rudy had recently imparted. Rudy had sworn he'd seen Christy in London. The thought of Christy in London had so unsettled Sinjun that he hadn't been himself since, if one could call remaining in a perpetual state of inebriation his usual self.

What was she doing in London? Was Calum Cameron with her? Had they spoken their vows yet? He could think of no reason Christy and Calum would come to London; they both hated anything English. He was more inclined to think that Rudy had seen someone who resembled Christy. Aye, he decided, that's precisely what had happened. For his own peace of mind, he had to believe that Christy was nowhere near London.

A knock on the door disturbed Sinjun's reverie. Pemburton entered upon Sinjun's command. "Your bath is ready, my lord," he intoned dryly. "Shall you require my a.s.sistance?"

"Just bring me a fresh bottle of brandy," Sinjun said as he headed toward the bathing room.

Pemburton's eyebrows arched upward. "Before breakfast, my lord?"

"You're not my brother, Pemburton," Sinjun muttered. "Thank G.o.d he's not around to flail me with his infernal carping. Just do as I say. I want to be thoroughly foxed before presenting myself at the dowager d.u.c.h.ess's ball tonight."

His spine stiff with disapproval, Pemburton left.

Sinjun's wishes were granted. When he staggered into the ballroom that night, wearing a half mask and resplendent in evening clothes, he was foxed, but not as drunk as he would have liked.

Sinjun made straight for the dowager and bowed low over her hand.

"I wondered if you'd appear," the elegant, white-haired lady said with asperity.

"I promised your grandson," Sinjun slurred. "By the way, where is Rudy?"

The dowager, an erect little woman in her seventh decade, sent Sinjun a reproving look. "Foxed again, Lord Derby? If I didn't like you so well I'd be angry. Rudy will be here directly. He said you would make an appearance tonight, but he has more faith in you than I do. One never knows what Lord Sin might do these days. You simply must learn to control your excesses, Derby," she scolded. "I've known you a long time and I don't like what I've been hearing about you."

Sinjun was spared from further censure when a pair of masked guests came up to greet her. Bowing, Sinjun made a hasty retreat. The dowager's words had sparked a simmering anger inside him. If not for Christy he wouldn't be treading upon the path to self-destruction. His child's death had created an emptiness within him, and he did whatever it took to forget. He hurt, truly hurt inside. Christy had told him so little about his child's death. Had he lost a son? Or had his child been a daughter?

Sinjun wandered aimlessly around the ballroom, encountering no one he cared to engage in conversation, completely unaware of the number of women staring at him with speculation. Before long he found himself surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women eager for his attention. Despite his less than pristine reputation, women still found Lord Sin irresistible. Perhaps it was because of his reputation that he was so popular with the opposite s.e.x.

Though his heart wasn't in it, Sinjun ventured onto the dance floor, idly wondering if he was attracted enough to one of his dance partners to bed her. These days he rarely found an interesting woman, and his bed had remained appallingly empty.

Sinjun was resting against a pillar with an empty gla.s.s in his hands when he saw Rudy enter the ballroom with a masked lady on his arm. He watched as they joined the promenade around the room, his bleary gaze settling on the woman. She wore a powdered wig, and though her mask covered all but her mouth, Sinjun felt an immediate attraction, as if he were drawn to the mysterious lady by an irresistible force too strong to resist.

He pushed himself away from the pillar, refreshed his drink at the refreshment table, and strode briskly toward Rudy and the masked beauty with him.

"Rudy, what kept you?" Sinjun drawled.

"You're foxed again," Rudy chided. "I don't suppose my grandmother is too awfully pleased with you."

"You suppose right," Sinjun drawled. "Are you going to introduce me to your lady?"

"I don't think so, Sinjun," Rudy said. "I'm not going to lose this one to you."

The sound of Sinjun's voice nearly drove Christy to her knees. She adjusted her mask and clung to Rudy as if he were her lifeline, for Sinjun had never looked so splendid to her. His superbly fas.h.i.+oned evening clothes fitted him like a glove, and Christy tried not to think about the magnificent body that lay hidden beneath those clothes. Without volition she remembered his stunning pa.s.sion as he'd loved her with his hands, his body, his mouth. She recalled how those sensual lips had explored every inch of her flesh, and she felt herself flush at the memory. She stared at him through the eye slits of her mask, thinking that he carried himself well despite being noticeably foxed.

When she'd walked into the ballroom on Rudy's arm, Christy had seen him surrounded by adoring women, and she wondered how many of the nubile beauties he had bedded since he left Glenmoor.

"What harm can it do to introduce the lady to me?" Sinjun persisted.

"More than you know," Rudy muttered, giving Christy's hand a squeeze.

Sinjun raised an elegant eyebrow. "You're being deliberately cruel, Rudy." He took Christy's hand, turned it palm up, and pressed it to his lips. "I am St.John Thornton, Lord Derby, my lady. My friends call me Sinjun."

Christy felt a shock travel clear up her arms from where his lips touched her palm. "My lord," she murmured in a husky whisper as she quickly withdrew her hand from his grasp. Did Sinjun recognize her?

"Do I know you, my lady?"

"No, my lord, I would have remembered had we met before."

"Your charm won't work this time," Rudy said. "Go find your own lady. Didn't I see Lady Alice a few minutes ago?"

Sinjun shrugged. "Alice and I had a parting of ways."

Christy sucked in a startled breath. Had she heard right? She thought Sinjun and Lady Alice Dodd were to be married.

"I'm sure you'll find someone to replace her," Rudy said, sounding not at all sympathetic to Sinjun's plight.

"Ah, a quadrille is starting. Do you mind if I dance with your lady?"

"Back off, Sinjun," Rudy warned. "This dance is promised to me."

"Isn't that your grandmother signaling for you to attend her?" Sinjun asked, calling Rudy's attention to the dowager, who was indeed waving at Rudy. "Go ahead, I'll keep your lady company."

"No, I'll go with Lord Blakely," Christy said, edging away from Sinjun.

"Nonsense," Sinjun said, taking Christy's hand and leading her off toward the dance floor while Rudy stood helplessly by, obviously torn between rescuing Lady Flora and attending his grandmother. Then it was too late to intervene as the couple joined the dancers on the floor.

"Who are you?" Sinjun asked when they met during one of the intricate steps of the dance.

"My name is of no import," Christy murmured. "You are exceedingly bold, my lord."

Sinjun gave her a crooked smile. "You must indeed be new to London if you haven't heard of Lord Sin."

"Oh, I have heard of you, my lord. Are all those things they say about you true?"

"Most of them," Sinjun allowed.

The dance parted them again, and when they finally reunited, the last notes of the music faded away. Christy looked for Rudy, saw he was still talking with his grandmother, and started in his direction.

Sinjun had other ideas. "What a crush of people," he said, steering her toward the open French doors. "I find myself in desperate need of air."

"Take your air, my lord, but release me first," Christy demanded. "I must return to Lord Blakely."