Sinjun was gone only a few minutes, but when he returned to usher Lady Flora outside, he saw Julian and Emma approaching. He knew how Julian felt about introducing his mistress to his sister, so he tried to hurry Flora out the door and into the coach. It wasn't to be, however. Emma hailed Sinjun before he could hand Flora into the coach.

"Sinjun! Were you going to leave without greeting your sister?" She sent Julian an exasperated look. "Why didn't you tell me Sinjun was here?"

Sinjun cursed beneath his breath. There was no help for it. He had to stop and speak to Emma despite Julian's blistering scowl.

"h.e.l.lo, Emma. You look ravishing tonight."

She dropped a curtsy. "Why, thank you, kind sir. And you are far too handsome for your own good."

"Come along, Emma," Julian said, attempting to push her toward their own coach.

Emma shrugged free. "I'm not through talking to Sinjun." Her gaze slid around to Christy. "Why, Lady Flora, we meet again. I didn't know you were here with my brother. Why didn't you tell me?"

Sinjun's eyes narrowed as he swung around to confront Christy. "You know my sister?"

"Of course," Emma said, forestalling Christy's answer. "We met in the powder room. I must say, Sinjun, your taste is improving. Lady Violet wasn't at all your style."

"That's enough, Emma," Julian said reprovingly. "It isn't proper for unmarried young ladies to be so outspoken."

"Oh, pish, Julian. If you weren't so serious all the time you'd be as popular as Sinjun."

Julian rolled his eyes. "G.o.d forbid. Nevertheless, I insist that we leave now. Perhaps Sinjun will come around for a visit soon." It was a direct command, one Sinjun couldn't ignore.

"Of course I'll visit soon, Emma," Sinjun said, "if I can wade through the throng of suitors beating down your door."

"Forget the suitors," Emma said. "I don't give a hoot about any of them. Please come soon, Sinjun. And bring Lady Flora."

"He'll come alone," Julian said sternly.

Sinjun cursed beneath his breath. The meeting was unfortunate. Emma was a mischievous little imp, and far too inquisitive. He should have known she'd find a way to meet his new mistress.

"I'm sorry," Sinjun said as he handed Christy into the coach. "Julian considers himself the family's conscience. He didn't want Emma to meet you. You do understand, don't you?"

"It's all right, my lord. I understand. Emma must be protected from Lord Sin's excesses. I suspect Emma knows more than either you or your brother give her credit for. Lord Sin's exploits are the talk of the ton. How could she not know?"

Sinjun flinched. Though true, Flora's words gave him pause for thought. She considered him unprincipled, a man without morals. He wouldn't call himself a model of decorum, but he did have morals, dictated by his own personal code. Perhaps his decadent ways were common knowledge, but why should he change when his lifestyle fit him perfectly?

"Forget Emma," Sinjun said as the coach lurched forward. "Do you know how very much I want you? I'm not sure flaunting you in public is a good idea. There wasn't a man present tonight who didn't wish he were in my shoes."

He pulled her against him, smiling when she dutifully raised her head for his kiss. He stared a moment at her full lips, then took her mouth with his. She tasted so sweet he couldn't stop the groan that rose in his throat. Never had a woman gotten under his skin so quickly. He couldn't wait. He wanted her, and he wanted her now. His hand slid beneath her skirts, raising them high as his hand skimmed along her leg.

"Sinjun! What are you doing?"

"What I've wanted to do all evening. Don't worry, I told the coachman to take the long way home. Spread your sweet thighs for me, sweetheart. I need to touch you."

Christy's breath seemed suspended. She couldn't move her eyes from his face. She could almost hear her blood pounding through her veins; every sense seemed intensified, and yet she was aware of little beyond the small, enclosed place that held the two of them. Sinjun required things of her she'd always considered wicked. She knew he was wild, hedonistic, unpredictable, but making love in a traveling coach was beyond anything she had imagined. Closing her mind to the very improper behavior Sinjun demanded of her, Christy realized a mistress would be eager to acquiesce to her lover's whims, no matter how improper. She spread her thighs.

Sinjun's hand slid up her stocking-clad leg past the garter. His hand found her, and she jerked in response. Something very strange was happening, and once again she felt the disorienting sensation of losing control of her senses. It was not at all what she was supposed to feel for her womanizing husband.

"You're already hot and wet for me," he whispered against her lips. "I have to have you, Flora." He raised her skirts to bare her thighs and shifted away to release his rigid staff. His member sprang free, and he pulled her astride him. "Ride me, sweetheart."

Christy rose slightly and impaled herself; the feeling of him sliding inside her was pure bliss. She arched her body and took him deeper. He gripped her bottom, his hands kneading, caressing, urging her to take even more of him. Her body drifted apart from her mind, lost in a sensual haze of pleasure. Excitement raced through her. A sudden jolt of sensation wrung a strangled cry from her lips, brought forth from deep inside her by the man who didn't know he was her husband. Then she knew no more.

When her wits reconnected with reality, she found herself lying on the seat with Sinjun leaning over her, his dark eyes inscrutable.

"You're incredible," he whispered as he hastily pushed down her skirts to cover her legs. "We're almost home."

With Sinjun's help, Christy straightened her dress and patted her hair into place, relieved that Margot wouldn't be up to remark on her dishevelment.

Sinjun exited the coach and handed her down. She wasn't sure he intended to go inside until he followed her to the door and held his hand out for the key. She handed it to him and stood back while he opened the door. A moment later she found herself being swept up into his arms and carried up the stairs. He entered her room and slammed the door with his boot heel. Then he set her on her feet, undressed her slowly, and made love to her again. Christy thought she had given her all in the coach, but their loving was as fierce as any storm, battering her senses and leaving her breathless. Afterward, she was more confused by her feelings than ever.

She was enjoying this far too much.

The following days and nights were surprisingly full. Since Sinjun never left until the sun rose high in the sky, Christy slept late. Sometimes he took her to the opera or theater, or riding in the park, but always they ended up in her bed. They ran into Julian a time or two. Stiff with disapproval, he usually acknowledged them with a cool nod but rarely spoke to them. She saw Emma only from afar, for Julian was careful to avoid them when he escorted his sister about.

Christy thoroughly enjoyed the operas and plays, even the rides through the park, but she abhorred the b.a.l.l.s, routs, and dances. Sinjun seemed to recognize her reluctance to attend private functions and honored her unspoken wishes by escorting her upon occasions to public affairs.

Christy could not fault Sinjun's attention to her. His faithfulness never wavered, which surprised her. Sinjun wasn't known for his fidelity. As for herself, what she feared most was happening. Making love with Sinjun was the greatest pleasure she had ever known. She awaited his arrival each night with breathless antic.i.p.ation, no matter that he had left her bed scant hours before.

l.u.s.t was a powerful emotion.

Christy knew Sinjun wasn't the kind of man a woman could depend on. His very nature precluded a lasting relationship. Had he wanted a wife, he would have consummated their marriage years ago. Had she wanted an Englishman for a husband she would have done something about it long before now. What she wanted was freedom to do as she pleased without an interfering husband. And she wanted an heir for Glenmoor. If she were clever enough she could have everything she wanted. But at what cost? a voice inside her asked. Would her heart survive Lord Sin?

A month sped by. Then another. At the end of her second month as Sinjun's mistress, Christy had every reason to believe she was pregnant. She had missed her monthly flow by two weeks and there was still no sign of it. But to be absolutely certain, she decided to remain until the end of the third month, just as she had originally planned. As her deadline approached, it became apparent to Christy that if she didn't remove herself mentally from Sinjun she wouldn't be able to leave at all. That night, after they returned from the opera, Christy attempted to separate herself from her body's response to Sinjun's loving.

After Sinjun had made love to her, he looked at her strangely and asked, "Are you not feeling well tonight?"

Had she been that obvious? "I feel fine. Why do you ask?"

"You seem distracted. Tiring of me already?" His voice was light and teasing, but his expression was intense.

" Tis almost time for me to leave," she reminded him.

She felt him stiffen. "Leave? No!" He went very still. "Are you increasing?"

"Do you really want to know? Let's just say 'tis time I leave London and return to my husband."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! I'm not ready for you to leave. If you were honest, you'd admit you want to stay."

"It doesn't matter what either of us wants," Christy said in a hushed voice. "I gave my word. Lord Randall expects me home."

"Promise you'll give us more time together," Sinjun pleaded.

Christy couldn't believe her ears. Lord Sin begging? That was likely to be a first. "I cannot," she said on a sigh. "Please do not ask it of me."

Sinjun made a growling sound deep in his throat and pulled her beneath him. What transpired next was so savage, so utterly devastating, that it left her feeling bruised and more than a little frightened of her growing desire for her husband.

Two weeks after their conversation Sinjun felt fairly certain that Flora had abandoned her plan to leave London any time soon. In fact, the subject had not been broached again. Their coupling, as always, was wildly pa.s.sionate and immensely satisfying for both of them; parting now was unthinkable. There was so much more he wanted to know about Lady Flora Randall. He knew her shapely, responsive body as intimately as his own, but she remained a mystery in every way except s.e.xually.

During his latest visit to White's, Sinjun learned that a wager had been placed on the betting books as to the date Lord Sin would end his a.s.sociation with his current mistress. It probably would happen, Sinjun supposed, but his pa.s.sion for Lady Flora was still too powerful to let her slip away.

He began his campaign to keep her in town by giving her emeralds to match her eyes. Next he presented her with a diamond bracelet, then a tiara. Nothing was too expensive for her. The pleasure with which she accepted the gifts warmed his heart, but a certain wariness in her green eyes made him uneasy.

There were no lights in the windows of Flora's rented townhouse when Sinjun arrived to escort her to the opera one night about three months into their pa.s.sionate affair. A feeling of dread crawled up his spine as he pounded on the door. When no answer was forthcoming, he turned the k.n.o.b. The moment the door opened beneath his hand he knew that she was gone. He detected no spark of life, only emptiness, as if the heart had gone out of the house. Unwilling to accept the only plausible answer, Sinjun took the stairs two at a time. The rooms were cold and lifeless. He flung open the wardrobe. Empty. His curses echoed hollowly in the barren chamber when he spotted the gifts he had given her lying in full view on the nightstand. He scooped the jewels into his pocket and stormed out of the house.

Gone! She had left without a word or proper good-bye. d.a.m.n her! What kind of woman was she? Did she care nothing for his feelings? Had he not been generous enough with her? His other mistresses had received less from him and hadn't complained. But the weight of the jewelry in his pocket banished the uncharitable notion that Flora was greedy. It was the old man she was married to, Sinjun thought angrily. Though they had never discussed feelings, the thought that she loved her elderly husband more than she enjoyed his company battered his ego.

Determined to forget the callous Lady Flora, Sinjun headed to White's, where he proceeded to get roaring drunk and gamble as if his pockets had no bottom. He was well into his cups when Rudy spotted him in the card room.

"Sinjun! I haven't seen you alone in months. Have you and your mistress parted ways already? I'd be happy to take her off your hands."

"If you can find her, she's yours," Sinjun muttered as he slammed down another losing hand and rose unsteadily. "Good night, gentlemen. It seems the cards are trying to tell me something."

Rudy grasped his arm to steady him. "I'll be d.a.m.ned! You're foxed. This isn't like you, Sinjun."

Sinjun shoved him away. "Go to h.e.l.l, Rudy."

"Come on, Sinjun. Let me help you."

"I don't need your help."

"The h.e.l.l you don't. You can barely stand. Where is your carriage?"

"S-s-sent it home," Sinjun mumbled, slurring the words. "I'm afoot."

"I'll take you in my rig," Rudy said, guiding him out the door. "You can tell me what's wrong while I drive."

"Not a d.a.m.n thing wrong that a few drinks and a hot woman won't cure. Drop me off at Violet's townhouse. I hear her husband is still in Scotland."

"You wouldn't do Violet or yourself any good in your condition," Rudy chided. He picked up the ribbons, and his team lurched forward. "What happened?"

A tense silence followed, then Sinjun growled, "Flora left. Gone without a word."

"So what? Since when did Lord Sin let a woman disrupt his life? You've never had a problem moving on before. You knew she had a husband waiting for her in Cornwall." He sent Sinjun an incredulous look. "Don't tell me she stole your heart."

Mellowed by drink, Sinjun admitted to something he wouldn't have had he been sober. "Flora was different, Rudy, and that's all I'm going to say."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! You are smitten. Tis not like you, my friend. What are you going to do? Will you pursue her?"

Sinjun's reputation was at stake. He'd never chased after a woman in his life and wasn't about to start now. So what if he felt at loose ends and without direction? So what if his ego had been battered? There were plenty of other women to take her place, should he want one.

"h.e.l.l no! Her husband is more than welcome to her."

Following Flora's departure, Sinjun embarked on a path of self-destruction even more dissolute than usual. Though he didn't take another mistress, he was seen with various women of the ton as well as ladies of easy virtue. Lord Sin's excesses grew even more unpredictable and wild as he tried to purge Lady Flora from his mind and heart. It wasn't like him to obsess over a woman, and he reacted by embarking upon a life of debauchery that made his previous excesses seem tame by comparison.

Ultimately his libidinous conduct reached Julian's ears. He stormed into Sinjun's townhouse one morning about a month after Christy's departure and pulled him from bed at the unG.o.dly hour of noon. Sinjun glared at his brother through bloodshot eyes.

"I'm not in the mood to be lectured, Julian."

"You're going to listen whether or not you like it. You can't go on like this, Sinjun. Your excesses are getting out of hand, even for a man of your unsavory reputation. Is your parting with Lady Flora the reason you're h.e.l.l-bent on self-destruction?"

"I don't wish to discuss Flora," Sinjun groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his aching head in his hands. "She's gone. Left a month ago without so much as a good-bye."

Hands behind his back, Julian began to pace. "The lady is married, Sinjun, what did you expect? What's gotten into you? Mistresses come and go. What makes this affair different from the others?"

"Dammit, Julian, you have no right to question me. Perhaps you're more discreet than I, but your own affairs aren't above reproach. For instance, where do you disappear to several times a year? Everyone thinks you have a woman stashed away somewhere; someone not fit to meet your peers. What is she, a Gypsy? Or someone even worse? At least I'm more forthcoming than you are."

"More forthcoming and more debauched," Julian muttered irritably. "We're not talking about me, we're talking about you."

"Come back later. I'm not fit company."

"I'm leaving tomorrow. I'll be gone several weeks. That's another reason I wanted to speak to you. You've been avoiding Mansfield Place, I had to come to you."

"Does Emma know you're leaving?"

"Of course. I've asked Aunt Amanda to move into Mansfield Place to look after Emma during my absence. I expect you to escort them about while I'm away."

Sinjun sent his brother a disgruntled look. "Where are you off to this time?"

"I'm afraid I can't divulge that information. I'll expect you to control your excesses when you're with Emma. The girl is willful enough without your example of debauchery."

"You've got a lot of nerve, Julian," Sinjun blasted. "I'll do as I d.a.m.n well please."

"A word of advice before I leave," Julian said. "Go to Scotland and fetch your wife. With all the talk of unrest in the Highlands, Christy needs to know she has a husband she can count on."

"The h.e.l.l with Christy Macdonald," Sinjun muttered. "I was forced to marry against my will, but I don't have to live with her."

"Is that why you've wasted your life on useless pursuits? I knew you were bitter about your marriage, but I never suspected you would rebel by embarking upon a wastrel's life. Wake up, Sinjun. You're not the only one forced to wed unwillingly."

"Don't preach, Julian. Why should I fetch my wife when I'm satisfied with the way things are now? She will only complicate my life."

"I can see I'm wasting my time," Julian said with a hint of regret. "Just remember, I love you too well to see you waste your life. Don't let your behavior shame Emma. I'll talk to you when I return."

"I love you, too, Julian, but you can't run my life." Shaking his head, Julian quietly left the room.

Frustrated, Sinjun flopped down upon the bed. He knew he was out of control, but he couldn't seem to stop. He kept himself drunk because sobriety hurt. When sober, Flora consumed his thoughts. He relived each moment with her, recalling her sweet kisses, the way her body responded to him, her pa.s.sion, the bliss he'd found in her arms. Despite the constant ache of missing her, he hated her for leaving him at loose ends.

Bewilderment and battered pride were making him bitter. Were Flora to return, he couldn't predict how he would react. Flora had left him without a word of good-bye, and his confusion regarding his feelings for the heartless chit was disconcerting. He didn't want to feel anything.

Though Julian's lecture had made him uncomfortable, he knew his brother was right. He had never before drunk himself to oblivion, or spent so much time in gambling h.e.l.ls, or paid women of easy virtue he'd picked up in Covent Gardens. Even Rudy had expressed disgust at his excesses, and Rudy was no angel.

Julian's words continued to weigh on Sinjun's conscience. To please Julian and keep Emma's regard during Julian's absence, Sinjun resolved to make a concerted effort to behave around his sister. On those nights he wasn't required to squire Emma and Aunt Amanda to various functions, he was free to indulge himself. It wasn't as if he enjoyed waking up the next day with a big head, wondering how much money he'd gambled away or which friend he'd insulted; it was just that he had this compelling need to prove to the world that Flora had been nothing more to him than a pa.s.sing fancy.

Julian returned to London a month later. The note he sent Sinjun requested his immediate presence. Wondering what Julian had heard about him now, Sinjun removed himself to Mansfield Place with undue haste. Julian received him in the library, his face a study of concern.

"What is it now, Julian?" Sinjun asked as he flopped into a comfortable chair before the hearth. "I did what you asked. Emma found my conduct as an escort quite satisfactory."

Julian thrust long, tapered fingers though a fine head of dark hair, clearly upset about something.