Page 3 of The Seduction of Lord Sin
Most of the men invited desperately needed a rich wife, and at the end of the party, Charlotte would hopefully select one such man to be her next husband. Lord Devlin was on top of her list. This was the only way she could hope to entice a man to marry her. To marry the freakishly tall, barren, nearing thirty, widow.
The Duke of Sinclair was neither desperate for money, and with his pressing need for an heir and a spare, a child he would think she could not provide, Flora and Charlotte had never considered him for their list.
She wondered if he still mourned his wife. It must be difficult to marry again because you need an heir, if your heart still belongs to another. Her deceased husband had been the perfect example. Somehow, she could not imagine Lord Sinclair not bedding his second wife, because he still loved his first wife too much. His Grace needed an heir. He was the last male Sinclair left standing. His title and estates would revert to the crown if he did not do his duty.
He’d spent the past year as an unapologetic rake. Pleasure seemed to be his only focal point in life. His sensual smile fooled many, but she saw what those happy with life did not. She wished she could soothe the pain she saw hidden deep within his eyes.
On top of the embarrassment of a fall, she now wanted an enormous crack in the dried dirt beneath her feet to open up and swallow her. What would Lord Sinclair think of her once he knew the true purpose of her house party?
She would face that problem later. She just wanted to get home and soak her aches in a hot bath. “I seem to have mislaid my horse. Right now, I’d give my kingdom for a horse, as Shakespeare wrote in Richard the Third.”
A loud whistle pierced the air, and suddenly a large grey stallion came trotting toward its master. Lord Sinclair swung into the saddle with ease. “I think I saw your steed over yonder in the next paddock. Wait here and I’ll fetch…”
“Sir Galahad.”
Another stunning smile. “Of course he is.” Then, with a slap of the reins against the horse’s neck, Lord Sinclair sped off. She didn’t know which she admired more, the magnificent horse, or the handsome rider.
Charlotte wanted to sink to the ground. Her side ached, her ankle throbbed where it had hit a large stone, and her elbow burned. She used Lord Sinclair’s departure to check her wounds. She’d split the jacket at her elbow, and it was covered in blood. The rest of the jacket was still intact, merely covered in dust and bits of grass seed. Her gown looked as if she’d rolled in the hay and her riding boot had a long scratch on the leather. She must have connected with a jagged stone when her foot hit the ground. She reached up to check her hair and noted her hat was gone and her hair was in a tumbled mess.Blast.She must look in an absolute state. She attempted to pin the strands back but gave up as the throbbing in her elbow grew worse with her movements.
Soon her rescuer was back with Sir Galahad. Charlotte took a step and gasped at the pain rocking her body and her hand flew to her side.
Lord Sinclair dismounted and stepped forward. “May I assist you? It would appear you might have bruised, or even cracked a rib from your fall. The ground is baked hard.”
Not one to put pride before pain, she replied, “If you could help me mount Sir Galahad, I really don’t think I can walk home…” And suddenly her head swam and once again the hard ground raced toward her as she fainted dead away.
* * *
Sin caught Lady Charlotte before she hit the ground. He scooped her into his arms. Although very tall for a woman, she was fine-boned and slender and much lighter than he’d expected. She also curved in all the right places if his hands were not mistaken. He stood looking down at her face and wished her eyes would open. Her lovely ocean blue eyes were quite captivating.
He hadn’t really wanted to attend this house party all the way down in Cornwall, but Devlin’s insistence intrigued him. His best friend had called on a favor Sin owed him, and so he had come south from London. Now, having met the hostess, he was glad he had come. While not a traditional beauty, he was immediately attracted to the striking woman with captivating eyes the color of the deepest ocean. Eyes that held all manner of emotions, but mostly she looked sad. He understood that emotion very well.
For some reason, the widowed Lady Charlotte made him want to make those beautiful eyes smile again.
He stood, holding her in his arms, and cursed. There was no way she could ride her horse home. She would have to ride with him, but how to get her on his horse without dropping her? She didn’t seem to stir, and that alone worried him. If she’d hit her head on the rock like ground… He spied a fallen tree over yonder and, whistling for Hercules, he strode over and with Charlotte in his arms, he clambered on the horse’s back while steadying her in his arms.
Sin suspected Charlotte would not be too happy to leave Sir Galahad behind, however, it wasn’t difficult to approach the grazing gelding and tie the horse’s reins to his saddle. With that, Sin set off for the slow walk to Ivy Close, leading Sir Galahad behind him.
Soon, he wished he’d paid more attention to Devlin’s directions. Charlotte had still not roused from her faint, but it looked as though she had fallen asleep because her hands clutched the lapels of his jacket, and she was snoring softly.
The realization that he was lost didn’t take too long to hit him. Sin had resigned himself to stopping and asking for directions at the next cottage, when he saw several riders heading his way with Devlin in the lead, and relief chased away his unease.
Genuine concern filled Devlin’s face as he pulled his steed to a walk beside him.
“A snake spooked her horse, and she fell. I think nothing is broken, but I’m worried she’s hit her head, as she has fainted in my arms.”
Just then, Lady Charlotte stirred. She wiggled and snuggled closer on a very contented sigh and his body’s manly urges, which he had ruthlessly been suppressing given the warm, soft, feminine curves, sitting in his lap, gave in to the desire the woman in his arms provoked.
It took her mere moments to feel his hardness pressing against her bottom, and her eyes flew open on a gasp. Their gazes locked and held. Then she smiled and the usual sensual thrill coursed through him. Perhaps this trip to Cornwall would not be a complete waste.
“I don’t think Lady Charlotte is suffering from concussion,” came Devlin’s dry response.
Sin loved the way her face flushed with color, like a young, virginal miss. “Lord Devlin, what are you doing here? I thought you would have won your race with His Grace by now.”
“I have, Lottie. But the grooms became concerned when you had not returned from your morning ride.”
Lottie!The use of a familiar name sent a spear of jealousy through his body, and that annoyed him even more. He didn’t get jealous. Jealousy meant he cared, and he would not ‘care’ for a woman now, other than in the pursuit of his heir. Once was enough. He’d never risk his heart again.
Sin had forgotten that Devlin and Lady Charlotte knew each other well. Why had he never met her before?
