Sutton blinked. “Oh. That’s … interesting?”
Sin dropped onto his seat, crossing one leg over the other. The interesting part wasn’t that Winnifred was a natural philosopher.
The interesting bit was that she’d finally admitted it. In public.
“I may be in some trouble,” Sin told his friend.
“Oh?”
Sin looked to the empty door. He should build Winnifred a workshop, someplace to hold all the microscopes and chemicals she’d need for her work. “I have become fascinated with my wife.”
Obsessed more like. He needed to know what she was thinking, what she was doing, her opinions and desires. He felt impelled to know everything about his wife.
The back of his throat ached. Except her heart. He didn’t know if he was prepared to know that organ. Because chances were this obsession was all on one side. His.
And that wasn’t an option he was ready to face.
Chapter Sixteen
Winnifred pressed the stamp down to seal her letter. She examined the impression in the red wax. A robust letterDwith two swords crossing behind it. The seal for the house of Dunkeld was definitely more impressive than what she’d used for her previous correspondence. As was the weight of the cream paper and the quality of the ink. She turned to the next letter. Such a correspondence would be difficult to ignore. Should she sign her name to it? After all, she’d written to these men before. They were hardly likely to turn her post away if she didn’t scribblewritten at my father’s behestat the bottom beneath her signature.
She signed the next one using her customary language. The research was more important than her ego.
She felt him before she heard him. His presence held a certain weight, like that of a predator stalking into the forest. Everything hushed. The roaring fire dimmed to a soft mutter, the mantle clock stilled, her own breath stuck in her lungs.
Sin reached over her shoulder, and the scents of cedar and musk drifted over her. Her eyelids sank as heat pooled low in her belly.
Just his nearness did that to her. Not one touch was required. She couldn’t imagine all married women were so fortunate in their partners. The world would be a much happier place if that was so.
He placed the letter back in front of her, and she sealed it, placing it on the stack of four other correspondences.
“Did you sign in your father’s stead on all of them?”
Winnifred twisted in her chair, surprised at the anger lying in wait beneath his words.
“Yes.” She cocked her head. “Of course.”
His nostrils flared. “There’s nothing ‘of course’ about it. I had thought,” he said carefully, “that when you announced to my friend that you had an experiment to run, that had meant that you were no longer hiding your true nature.”
She looked down, his scuffed boots entering her vision. His valet despaired of them. No matter how brightly the man buffed them to a shine in the morning, Sin always managed to bring them back scraped and dirty. He never hid behind polish.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have done so.” She traced a line on the print of her gown. “I hope I didn’t shame you.”
He gripped her chin and tilted her head up. “You could never shame me, Winnifred. Though I must admit to being disappointed you continue this pretense of being your father’s assistant. Does he do any of his own research anymore, or had you taken over completely?”
She opened her mouth. Shut it. “My father is a very learned man. His research was his own and will continue without me.” Probably. In the last few years she had become the driving force in most experiments.
He leaned down, his eyes darkening to sapphire chips. “Mo ghrâdh, I can tell when you dissemble. Just as you study soil, I’ve made a study of you.”
She worried her bottom lip. Her entire life had been lived in pretense; she would have thought she’d been more accomplished at it.
“Why did you tell Sutton the truth?” he demanded.
“Because if seemed safe to do so.” She drew her shoulders back. “I learned confidences about you and your friends that you don’t wish me to speak of. It’s only reasonable they won’t speak out of turn about my own secrets.”
Sin barked out a laugh. “A bit of blackmail, is it?” He arched an eyebrow. “If anyone spills your secret, you inform on us?”
Her pulse fluttered. When he said it that way, she sounded awful. “I didn’t … I …”
