Page 18 of The Devil of Clan Sinclair
“My condolences,” he said.
Why was she here?
The question thrummed between them. Her maid, and the interested glances from her coachman, kept him silent.
He turned and strode in the other direction, and she, as he’d hoped, followed him. He hesitated at the entrance to the drive, staring out at the expanse of sea and sky, one mirroring the other.
Boiling black clouds on the horizon promised a storm by nightfall. Drumvagen was a secure and comforting refuge in the midst of lightning and thunder. On another night he might have settled in front of the fire, sipping whiskey from a tankard belonging to his father. His thoughts would have returned to London and the woman who now stood silently beside him.
“Why have you come, Virginia? To tell me of your widowhood?”
She didn’t answer. Her silence caused him to turn and look at her.
“Was it a happy marriage?”
She hesitated. When she nodded, he didn’t believe her.
“A short one,” she added.
Didn’t she realize he knew how long it had been? He’d gotten drunk the day of her wedding, the first time he’d ever allowed himself to do so.
He wanted to embrace her, hold her close to him. He wanted to fall to his knees, wrap his arms around her hips, keep her there until he accepted she was truly at Drumvagen.
“Why are you here, Virginia?” he asked, his mind racing in a dozen directions at once.
She reached out one gloved hand and placed it on his shirted chest. His pulse raced at her touch, as if she had the power to burrow into his skin, stroke the heart beneath and quicken its beat.
“Let me rest,” she said. “Feed me a meal or two, and perhaps a glass of wine.” She glanced away, then back at him, as if daring herself. “Then I’ll tell you.”
Turning, he looked at his home, taking in Drumvagen’s sprawling glory. He would put her in the suite he’d prepared for her.
He held out his arm. She placed her hand on it, and he accompanied her up the drive and then the steps, much as he had thought of doing from the moment he met her.
What did she think of Drumvagen? Her eyes were wide as she took in the broad double doors. He’d ordered them from Italy and had to wait nearly a year for them to be finished.
Like a boy, he wanted to tell her about building Drumvagen, how he’d found it an unfinished shell and knew it was his home from the beginning. He wanted to brag about each of the furnishings, tell her the story of how he’d found the chandeliers, the carved doors, and the mirrored walls.
He kept silent, watching her, noting the delicate blush appearing on her cheeks and wondering at its cause.
This woman was the source of his greatest pain.
He should send her away, tell her about the inn only a few miles distant. He should send Jack or Sam as an outrider, to ensure she got to her destination and didn’t think about circling back to Drumvagen. He should keep men at intervals along the road to guard the approach, to keep her from it.
Instead, he pushed open the door and stood aside for her to enter his home.
Chapter 6
Macrath hadn’t changed. He was the same as he had been, a magnificent specimen of man. The only thing different was the strange smell surrounding him like a cloud.
She wished Hannah wasn’t right behind her. She would’ve studied Macrath, from the top of his head all the way down his body. She felt his arm beneath her hand and wondered if he knew she was trembling.
He led her to a small parlor with windows overlooking the ocean with its wind tossed waves. The storm that had been threatening for the last hour was advancing. The face the clouds showed was gray and flat, the edges detailed and brightly limned by a sun she couldn’t see. She heard thunder, but lightning hid like a cowardly mastiff.
The parlor was shadowed by the approaching storm, a cozy place to watch nature’s display.
She glanced toward the white marble fireplace, the burgundy upholstered settee faced by two matching chairs and a mahogany table. Before she had time to remark it was a lovely room, or question the identity of the portraits along the fireplace wall, a woman joined them.
Virginia had been trained by her governesses never to show her emotions, especially in social situations. If she were surprised or taken aback, she must never allow anyone else to know.
