Sin released her so quickly that she stumbled. He was a blur as he sprung forward. Red highlights glinted in his queue as it flew behind him. A tear in his shirt near the elbow gaped wide as he drew his arm back. The sickening sound of bone cracking against bone followed.
Summerset’s body seemed to move before the blow landed, moving with the punch. His head jerked back from the impact, and he stumbled against the shed, nearly sliding to the ground before Sutton grabbed his shoulder.
The baron stood between his two friends. “Enough.” He swiveled his head to glare at both men. “Enough nonsense out of you,” he said, shaking Summerset, “and you, save it for the men we seek. We have enemies enough without you two turning on each other.”
Winnifred fell a step back, the surprise of the attack shocking her. The violence of their intercourse was nothing compared to the brutality her husband kept pent up inside. She’d known he was rough; she hadn’t realized how much he’d held back from her.
Sin spun away from his friends, clenching and unclenching his hands, eyes burning with anger. They landed on Winnifred, and narrowed even further.
A spiral of lust swirled in her belly. Her nipples tightened under her stays, an involuntary response to his ferocity. She took another step back. Brutality shouldn’t affect her this way. This evidence of her husband’s violence.
But it did. Because she knew he would use that violence to protect what was his. Protect her. And he knew how to hone that violent edge to bring her to the peaks of pleasure.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as the distance between them grew. Emptiness pushed out the anger in his gaze.
Her heart stumbled. She raised a hand to stop him, tell him she wasn’t scared of him, but he’d already turned his back to stomp away. “I’m going after the badger,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Enjoy your nuncheon.”
She lifted her skirts to chase after him, but Sutton stopped her. “You’d best let him calm himself. Your husband tends to hit first, think later, but he’ll come out right in the end.”
She frowned. She didn’t need lectures about her husband. She spun on Summerset. “Why did you goad him so? I thought you were supposed to be his friend.”
Summerset pressed his fingers to the mark that spread from his cheek to his jaw. It would develop into a lovely bruise, and very well deserved, too, Winnifred thought.
He gazed at her, his expression thoughtful. “In anger, true emotions are revealed. Now I know how he feels. It isn’t just a duty to defend his wife. He actually has feelings for you.”
Sutton threw up his hands and muttered ‘idiot’.
The earl ignored him. He cocked his head. “I now understand Sin. All that’s left to understand is you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Winnifred examined the row of forks beside her plate and grimaced. What a foolish conceit member of the Quality had when it came to such things. And more fool her to think that she would fit in such company, even wearing the beautiful new emerald-green gown her husband had given her.
She darted a glance down the Earl of Abercairn’s long dining table, wishing custom hadn’t separated her from her husband by several chairs. Lord, she’d even have wished for Summerset to be seated next to her at this interminable dinner party. At least his hostility was open and honest. The vipers at this table hid their malice behind coy smiles, and double-edged words.
“My dear girl, it is so brave of you to attempt that fashion.” Lady Abercairn, the viper with the sharpest bite, cooed to the guest across from Winnifred. Lady Abercairn’s voice held only the barest hint of a brogue, and Winnifred could only assume years spent in London with her husband had smoothed over the harsher burr of her people.
Lady Margaret Masson, daughter to the Earl of Brandon, flushed brick red. She fingered the military-style braiding on her bodice, her long à la mameluke sleeves swamping her hands.
Lady Abercairn buttered a roll and poked her knife in her victim’s direction. “A real triumph of spirit over caution.”
Winnifred stiffened as her hostess turned to her. “Lady Dunkeld, you have yet to say how you find our fair city. This is your first visit to Glasgow, is it not?”
“Yes, although I cannot yet give you much of an opinion.” Winnifred nodded to the footman to refill her wineglass. “We only arrived just this afternoon. But from what I saw on the ride from our lodgings to your home, it does appear quite lovely.” It would have been lovelier still if she had remained at their apartments as Sutton had. She knew as Sin’s wife she needed to embrace society, but after a day of travel, she didn’t know if her fortitude would last the night.
“I hope you go to St. Mungo’s.” Mr. Neil Masson, the earl’s younger son, leaned forward. He sat next to his sister, and the fact that they were allowed to sit together while she and Sin were separated grated against Winnifred’s sensibilities. “The cathedral is necessary for every visitor to see.”
“Yes, the Lady Newton said the very same thing when she visited with me last summer.” Lady Abercairn lifted her wineglass and examined Winnifred over the rim. “Are you acquainted with Viscount Newton’s wife, Lady Dunkeld? She holds the best soirees in all of London.”
Winnifred pushed at a turnip on her plate. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have the fortune of her acquaintance.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Lady Abercairn sipped her wine. “But I believe your husband knows her.” She raised her voice. “Isn’t that right, Dunkeld? That you were once a particular friend to Lady Newton?”
Silence descended on the table. Winnifred clenched the napkin on her lap, refusing to look at Sin. Of course, he’d lived a full life before her, but she didn’t need to see such knowledge in his eyes.
“I made her acquaintance briefly when she was yet Lady Featherstone,” Sin replied, his voice low. “I have not seen her since she remarried.”
“That’s not surprising.” The Duke of Beaumont waved away a footman with a platter of roast meat. “I so rarely see you in society in London, Dunkeld, that it is more astonishing you know anyone at all.”
