Page 18 of The Seduction of Lord Sin
“I have all week to ride, but I may not win another chance to spend time alone with you.”
She smiled to herself, trying to remember that he was a known seducer. Pretty words came easily to him. A thrilling shiver skated over her skin. She looked forward to verbally sparring with him.
“There may be no one in earshot, but I assure you there are many pairs of eyes likely watching us.”
He glanced back at the house. “Most likely. I wonder if there is someone you specifically wish to be watching us?”
“It’s a little early in the week to wheedle out of me who I may be favoring.” She laughed. “I was actually talking about the ladies, Flora and Dharma. They will watch you like concerned mother hens.”
The truth was, she hadn’t given any of her guests a second thought since she saw him standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her. His dark, good looks took her breath away. The masculine scent of sandalwood tickled her nose, and it hit her like a large hail stone that this was the first time she’d ever had an outing with a gentleman. Excitement almost made her forget the stiffness and pain from her fall.
As she stepped through the old wooden door into the walled rose garden, she took in the view before her and stopped.
Never had she seen anything like it. He hadn’t simply organized an afternoon tea. It was a feast of color—her favorite color—red. She recognized the Persian rug from her study. There was also the chaise longue from the drawing room and other rugs and blankets on the ground, with large pillows scattered about. He’d also organized for someone to make a shade stand to protect her from direct sunlight.
“Oh, my. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“I didn’t. Your staff were most obliging.”
She continued to move toward the amazing area of luxuriant comfort and saw the feast that awaited her. She’d hardly need any supper. “You’ve talked with Cook. These are my favorites.”
“Where would you like to sit? Sun or shade? Chaise longue or rug?”
“Chaise longue please. If I sit on the ground, I might not get back up.”
Once they were settled, her on her seat, and him sprawled at her feet on the rug and cushions, he busied himself pouring her a cup of tea.
“The tea cups look ridiculous in your large hands, but I can tell you’ve done this before.” His smile vanished at her words before he seemed to gather himself.
“My two elder sisters used to make me sit and play tea parties when I was a boy.”
She reached down and laid a hand on his arm. “I suspect it wasn’t your sisters that flashed into your head at my words. Your wife perhaps?” He handed her the cup without a word. She wished she could take back her question. So she stumbled on. “It’s sad that I have no fond memories of my husband. It was not a love match.”
He avoided her gaze before laying back on the pillow, shielding his eyes from the sun with his arm. “My wife, Arianna, loved a cup of tea with loads of sugar and lemon. I became an expert at making the perfect cup. I haven’t made a cup since she died and I hadn’t noticed until your comment.”
“Before she married James, Flora loved talking about her first husband. Why does the memory of your wife pain you? I see it in your eyes.”
“I loved her from the moment I first saw her,” Lord Sinclair whispered quietly.
“I remember her beauty at her come-out. She was the belle of the season,” replied Charlotte softly. She saw him stiffen, but he didn’t remove his arm from where it lay covering his eyes.
“Have you not heard how they died? I thought all of society knew?”
“They? It wasn’t only your wife?” For one dreadful moment, she wondered if he’d had a child who died too. She hadn’t heard the details of his wife’s death, only knowing he was a widower. Why had she started this conversation? She was ruining the entire afternoon.
“I won’t bore you with the details, but I lost my wife and my brother on the same day.”
She couldn’t help it. A strangled gasp left her mouth. Goodness, that was terrible. What could she say? “I’m so sorry.” Even to her ears, it sounded so inadequate.
“I try not to think of Arianna.”
Good lord,he must have loved her a lot. Yet Flora loved her first husband and wanted to talk about him constantly before she married James. She supposed men handled grief differently. She slipped off her chair and onto the rug beside him and took his hand. “Forgive me for being so callous as to your feelings. If I had known the depth of your pain, I would never have asked.”
He rolled on his side to face her. She still held his hand in her lap as she sat beside him, leaning back against the chaise.
“Don’t look at me with pity. My wife was killed by my brother, who was also her lover. It would appear my wife loved my brother, but also loved my title and money. She decided to have both. In the end, it would appear my brother did not wish to share. He strangled her and then shot himself.”
Holy hell.She squeezed his hand. What did he want her to say? Charlotte didn’t know how she would have survived that level of betrayal.
