Sin threw his napkin on the table and made to stand.
Winnifred caught his eye and shook her head. No need to cause an even greater scene. Showing weakness would only make people wonder more.
“I have no such fears.” If there was a slight wobble to her voice, Winnifred could forgive it. “My mother and I are two different people. But I thank you for your concern.”
After a few moments of silence, Lady Margaret leaned forward. “I’m certain you’re right.” She gave Winnifred a timid smile. “We all must make the best of the circumstances we are born into. Isn’t that right, Neil?”
Mr. Masson fiddled with his knife. “Yes, sister.” But his expression remained watchful. As though expecting Winnifred to leap over the table to attack at any moment.
She sipped her wine, tasting nothing. Well, the worst was over. Her secret was out. If Sinclair could forgive her this embarrassment, then this humiliation made no matter. She’d fallen as low as she could go, and would survive.
There was always lower.
She could always be dragged away, kicking and shrieking as her mother had been, put away in a little box.
The back of her throat ached, and she sipped more wine. Sin wouldn’t let that happen. She trusted that the protection he offered was absolute. Well, as absolute as any one man could offer.
Picking up her knife and fork, she cut her venison into square, even bites.
She darted a glance at her hostess. A woman best avoided. And until she left Glasgow, Winnifred would tread as carefully as she ever had.
Chapter Twenty
“I hate waiting.” Sin shifted, his arse growing numb on the hard gig seat.
Sutton sighed. “It’s not an activity I particularly enjoy either. Especially as the newspaper’s office is next door to a charming-looking coffeehouse I’d much rather be sitting in.”
“I don’t think you can call an illicit weekly pamphlet a newspaper.” Liverpool suspected MacConnell of being the anonymous author of several columns in the Glasgow rag,Le Nouveau Monde. Columns rallying independence. Calling for rebellion. It would make sense. The boy didn’t have the ballocks to proclaim his alliance so openly.
Sutton grunted and tucked his head down to his chest, stretching his legs as best he could in this small contraption.
Sin examined his friend. He looked well, even with that damn beard regrown. Content like he never had before.
“Why are you here?” Sin asked.
Sutton gave him a look from the corner of his eye. “Because if I held the position in the coffeehouse and Summerset was in here with you, I don’t believe both of you would emerge from this gig alive. He only means to protect you, you know.”
Sin ignored that. “I meant why are you here in Scotland. I thought you’d given up the espionage business. Told Liverpool he could stuff it. A quiet life with Colleen out in the country. Wasn’t that what you said to me at your wedding?” And one they vastly deserved after the troubles at his club.
Sutton tugged his beard. “I have retired. For the most part. But when Summerset comes to me saying there’s a nasty business up in your neck of the woods, of course I’ll come. All of us will. You have damned amazing friends.”
Sin grunted. “Yes.”
“Even Summerset.”
Sin focused on the door to the paper’s office. The typesetter and editor were the only employees inside. “Are we certain the pamphlets are printed here? I’d hate to be sitting here with our thumbs up our arses for no good reason.”
“Sinclair.”
He forced his gaze to meet his friends. “Yes, I know. Even that dandied-up fool, Summerset.” The blow to his friend’s jaw hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as Sin had hoped. Partly because he’d pulled his power, and partly because the sneaky bounder knew how to roll with a punch.
Mostly because he knew Summerset’s interference was well meant. Summerset could be a cold, calculating devil when it came to the rest of the world, but with his friends…. Well, he was still an arsehole, but one who meant well. He’d lay down his life for each and every one of them and there was no one Sin trusted more to watch his back.
“Of course, if he doesn’t buy us some meat pies, I’ll bruise his other cheek.” Sutton slumped back into the seat. He tracked a boy who stopped in front of the offices only to tip a pebble out of his boot and move on.
Sin cracked each knuckle on his right hand. “We could just go in and ask for the information.”
Sutton dipped his chin. “This is supposed to be a reconnaissance mission only.”
