Authors: Connie Mason
“I thought we finished our conversation downstairs,” Christy said.
“I forgot to mention, we’ll be attending Lady Dempsey’s ball tonight.”
“You want
me
to attend the ball with
you
tonight?” Christy gasped. “Won’t having a wife on your arm cramp Lord Sin’s style?”
“‘Tis time the
ton
met my wife. For years I’ve used you to fend off women with marriage on their minds, and it’s time now to prove to society that you truly do exist.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t leave Niall.”
“That’s no longer a valid excuse, Christy. Do you think I don’t know what’s going on in my own home? Niall has been sleeping the night through. He no longer needs night feedings.”
“Why do you want to drag me out into society?”
Sinjun’s gaze drifted down to her breasts, where Niall still suckled contentedly. The sight of his son nursing at Christy’s breasts never failed to enthrall him. He imagined his own mouth tasting her, his own tongue lapping at her nipple, and he went immediately hard. He turned away and adjusted his coat over his all too visible erection before he answered her question.
“‘Tis a wife’s duty to accompany her husband if he wishes her to do so. No other explanation is necessary. I hope you have something appropriate to wear.”
Christy lifted a sleeping Niall to her shoulder and hastily covered her breasts. “I’m not going. What if someone recognizes me as Lady Flora, your former mistress?”
“Let me handle that. What time does Niall have his last feeding?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“Perfect. I’ll be waiting for you in the drawing room at ten.”
Christy chafed indignantly at Sinjun’s highhanded manner. She had no idea where she stood with him. He wanted her. He didn’t want her. He had avoided her for days. Now he was acting the perfect tyrant, demanding that she attend a social function with him. Never would she understand her complicated husband.
Perhaps it was best that she didn’t.
Content after his last feeding, Niall was sleeping blissfully as Peggy helped Christy into another fancy ballgown she’d brought with her from Glenmoor. Fashioned of emerald green satin, the low-cut Empire bodice was trimmed in crystal beads. The skirt, banded with beige lace, fell in graceful folds from the ribbon tied just below her breasts.
“His lordship will be pleased,” Peggy said as she adjusted the neckline of Christy’s dress. “You’re very beautiful, my lady.”
His lordship be damned, Christy thought sourly. Being paraded around on the arm of her rakehell husband wasn’t her idea of a good time.
“Thank you, Peggy. If you’ll hand me my wrap, I do believe I’m ready.”
Sinjun wasn’t prepared for the dazzling beauty who walked into the drawing room a short time later. Oh, he was well aware of Christy’s beauty, ’twas what had drawn him to her that night she’d posed as Lady Flora. But that was before Niall, before her body had matured and her sexuality had been awakened. Sinjun instinctively knew that every woman attending the ball tonight would pale in comparison with his wife.
It came as no surprise to Sinjun that he still wanted Christy. No matter what she had said or done in the past, she was in his blood. Just looking at her made him go all hot and hard. If he hadn’t promised the hostess he’d attend the ball, he’d turn Christy around and march her back up the stairs to his bed.
He composed his features and said coolly, “You look quite fetching, madam.”
“And you look handsome as always.”
He offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”
“If we must, my lord.”
A crush of carriages was lined up before the Dempseys’ townhouse on King Street off fashionable St. James Square. The marquess’s carriage waited in line to discharge its passengers. When their turn came, Sinjun and Christy descended and entered the mansion. They left their wraps with a maid and joined the procession upstairs to the ballroom.
“Derby, quite a crush, what?” a man standing on the stair above them said. “I told Huxley we should have gone to Boodles instead.”
“No women at Boodles,” Huxley said. “Besides, as I told Ashford, the food is better here.”
“Indeed,” Sinjun acknowledged.
Both men were staring intently at Christy, obviously waiting for an introduction. When none was forthcoming, Huxley said, “Gossip has it your wife is in town. Did you know someone has placed a wager on the betting books at White’s concerning that very subject? There’s even a wager that you got an heir on your wife.”
“The devil you say!”
“Aye, ‘tis true. Some of the wagers are quite hefty.”
Amusement colored Sinjun’s words. “And how did you bet, Huxley?”
Huxley grinned at Christy. “Lord Sin bringing his wife to London? Never. As for begetting an heir with a savage Scotswoman, it sounded too farfetched to me. Lord Sin has a reputation to uphold, after all. I went with the odds.”
“I say old man, are you going to introduce us to your latest paramour?” Ashford asked. “She looks familiar. Do I know her?”
“Indeed you do not,” Sinjun insisted in a voice that brooked no argument. “Gentlemen, permit me to introduce my wife, Lady Derby. I hope you didn’t wager too steeply for I do indeed have an heir. His name is Niall, and he’s all of six months old. A handsome little fellow if I do say so myself. My dear, these two somewhat addled gentlemen are Lord Huxley and Lord Ashford.”
Both men had the presence of mind to murmur appropriate greetings and bow over Christy’s hand. They appeared enormously relieved when they reached the entrance to the ballroom, where they could hurry off.
“That enlightening bit of information will spread like wildfire in less time than it will take us to make our way to the buffet table,” Sinjun said.
Why did he sound so pleased?
“Is that what you wanted?”
“‘Tis time my wife was introduced to London society. Besides, I am inordinately proud of my Soon they were besieged by people, all insisting on being introduced to Lord Derby’s wife. Christy’s head was in a tizzy—so many faces, so many names. She knew some of the ladies present must have been intimately involved with Sinjun at one time or another, for their smug smiles suggested more than friendship.
During the course of the night she danced with Sinjun and several of his friends, smiling until she thought her face would crack. When Lord Huxley tended to hold her too close during one of the dances, Sinjun was suddenly beside her, dragging her from Huxley’s arms into his own. From then on he rarely allowed her out of his sight.
Sinjun found it difficult to remain civil to the gossipmongers and others he had once called friends. They prodded and probed and insinuated until he could stand it no longer. The last straw came when Lady Alice, on the arm of her latest lover, intercepted them and asked Christy point-blank if she intended to overlook her husband’s infidelities during her stay in London.
He almost laughed aloud when Christy said, “I intend to overlook anything that poses no threat to me.
He dragged her off to save her from Alice’s venom, but in truth he suspected she could hold her own with anyone. She was, after all, the Macdonald chieftain, laird of the clan.
“Where are we going?” Christy asked when Sinjun suddenly pulled her from the ballroom and down the stairs.
“Home,” Sinjun said curtly. All the men slavering over her had driven him to distraction. The ton’s interest in his wife annoyed him excessively. “Wait here while I summon the coachman.”
Christy was standing at the door when Sinjun returned a short time later with the coach. He handed her inside, closed the door, and rapped on the roof to signal the driver. Wheels spun and the coach rattled off down the street.
“I’ve waited all night for this,” Sinjun growled as he pulled her roughly into his arms. “You’re mine, Christy Macdonald, don’t ever forget it, no matter how much the
ton
fawns over you, and tonight I’m going to prove it.”
Sinjun had never looked more like Lord Sin than he did at this moment. He was the most exciting man she had ever known. Her body ached for his touch, her heart pined for his love.
C
hristy’s last remaining thoughts fled as Sinjun plucked her from the seat and settled her on his lap. His hands seemed to be everywhere. Beneath her skirts, skimming her legs, touching her intimately in places that set her blood afire.
“Too … many clothes,” he muttered. “Can’t get them … off … I need to…”
“Sinjun! We can’t. The driver.”
He appeared not to hear. “Need to … bury myself … inside you.”
His hot looks and arousing words were doing strange things to her insides. She shoved her skirts down, but he yanked them back up. Then he grasped her waist and lifted her astride him. She felt his thick shaft slide inside her, and a moan slipped past her lips. She hadn’t even been aware that he’d unfastened his breeches. Then all thought ceased as he began to thrust and withdraw, piercing her deeply as he grasped her hips, adjusting her to the heavy thrust and drag of his shaft.
A startling heat swept through her as he pulled down the bodice of her dress, freeing her breasts to his mouth. He suckled her nipples, first one then the other, eliciting a ragged sigh from her. When he pressed his hand between their bodies and massaged the hard little button protecting the entrance of her sex, shivery heat roared through her and a raging current carried her upward. Her climax seemed to go on forever, so volatile she wasn’t aware of Sinjun’s shout as he released his seed inside her. She was aware of nothing but unspeakable pleasure. Then he lifted her away and pulled down her skirts.
“We’re nearly home,” he whispered.
“Oh, God, what will the coachman think of me, of us?”
“We’re married, for God’s sake. He’ll just think the
ton
are strange people who prefer a coach to a bed, if he thinks anything at all.”
The coach ground to a halt, and Christy gave a little cry of distress as she pulled her bodice firmly in place and smoothed her skirts down. Before she was ready, the door opened and the coachman pulled the steps down. Sinjun descended first and lifted Christy down. Christy averted her face away from the coachman as she hurried up the front stairs. She gave a sigh of relief when Sinjun fitted the key in the lock and ushered her inside.
Christy hurried off to check on Niall, ashamed of the way she had responded to Sinjun. Had she no pride, no shame? He was using her and she knew it. Unfortunately love made one do foolish things.
Sinjun, wearing nothing but a silk robe, was waiting in her chamber when she entered.
“Undress,” he ordered crisply as he shrugged out of the robe.
Christy stared at him. “You’re insatiable.”
“Are you complaining?”
“There were dozens of women at the ball tonight. Did none of them spark your interest?”
The look he gave her was fiercely possessive, wildly passionate. “Aye. One did. She’s standing before me, wearing too many clothes.”
The rest of the night passed in a sensual blur. Sinjun’s ravenous kisses were just a prelude to the splendor that followed. Their naked bodies mated, clung, exploded in unmatched passion two more times before the sun peeped through the curtains. Christy was sleeping soundly when Sinjun left her bed.
She awoke hours later to the sound of loud voices in the foyer. She made a quick toilette, but by the time she fed Niall and descended the stairs, the visitors she had heard had moved into the study. She approached the door and reached for the knob. The door was ajar. She paused with her hand on the knob when she heard her name mentioned.
“Is it true, Sinjun? I just returned to Town and happened to stop in at White’s. Gossip has it that you’re living in connubial bliss with your wife. What in bloody hell is going on?”
“If you’d stay in town longer than a fortnight you’d know what was going on, Julian,” Sinjun retorted.
“What is Christy Macdonald doing in London?” Julian demanded to know. “She was the one who wanted the annulment.”
“There was no annulment. I never filed the document.”
“You deserve better than Christy,” a female voice interjected.
Sinjun’s sister, Christy thought, recognizing the voice.
“There’s something neither of you are aware of,” Sinjun retorted.
“I saw Christy several weeks ago,” Emma revealed. “I warned her to stay away from you. I told her she’d only hurt you again.”
“You saw her?” Sinjun asked, astounded. “When? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She was working as a seamstress in a shop I often frequent. You can be sure I had the owner discharge her straightaway. I didn’t tell you because I thought you were better off not knowing.”
“And so he was,” Christy said as she pushed open the door and walked into the room. “I had no intention of telling Sinjun I was in London.”
Julian stepped forward. “We met once, Lady Christy, under quite different circumstances. We were all under the misapprehension that you were Lady Flora, Sinjun’s mistress of the moment.”
Guilt rode Christy. Julian’s stern features and censuring words lent her little comfort She knew immediately that Julian was not a man to cross. “I apologize for that.”