The Devil of Clan Sinclair Read Online Free

Lawrence would be laid to rest.
    “Can you think of some other answer?” Enid asked.
    Virginia turned to face her mother-in-law.
    “The law does not see women as people, Virginia, but only as a man’s limb. His leg, his foot, or whichever appendage you want.”
    For a moment, a ghost of a smile appeared on Enid’s lips, then vanished.
    “Your entire inheritance is gone, Virginia. Everything your father left you.”
    “Did Lawrence do it on purpose?” she asked. “Did he want us desperate?”
    Enid tapped her fingers against her lips as if holding back improvident words. Finally, she sighed deeply. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I would hope he hadn’t.”
    They regarded each other somberly.
    “Search your memory, Virginia. Is there no friend of Lawrence’s? Or a person who might have come calling on my girls?”
    Macrath. In this room, he seemed even more substantial than Lawrence in his casket.
    Had Lawrence any friends? She’d never seen any visitors to the house. The closest to a friend was his attendant, but Paul was paid to be devoted.
    As far as her sisters-in-law, Ellice was only sixteen and Eudora didn’t seem interested in attracting a suitor.
    “You do agree, don’t you, Virginia?” her mother-in-law asked now.
    “I’m not sure I can do such a thing,” she said.
    But, oh, to see him again. To smile at him once more.
    “May I speak frankly, my dear?”
    When had she not?
    “Sexual congress needn’t last long,” Enid said.
    Poor Lawrence hadn’t been interested in sexual congress. Or perhaps he simply resented being a pawn in his mother’s schemes. She had evidently been included in that resentment. Poor Lawrence had retreated to his suite of rooms early on in their marriage, rarely emerging.
    “Seduction isn’t all that difficult, Virginia. All you need do is suggest your willingness and the male will do the rest.”
    She had the most absurd wish to giggle. Her mother-in-law was giving her lessons on debauchery.
    “However, you need to copulate regularly. You’re young and healthy. Nothing should prevent your getting with child.”
    She felt like a chicken, scolded because it hadn’t recently laid an egg.
    “Is there no one to whom you could appeal?” Enid asked. “No one at all? Wasn’t there someone before you married Lawrence?”
    Macrath. Dear God, was she a terrible person for having kept him in her heart all this time?
    She turned and faced the window again. Streaks of yellowish light bathed the street in front of the town house, stretching to illuminate the park in the middle of the square. She wanted to throw open the sash and breathe in the cool dawn air. She wanted to be gone from this place, from Poor Lawrence.
    “Yes,” she said, speaking to the window. “I know of someone.”
    Macrath.
    Was he married? Nearly a year had passed since she’d seen him, and yet she could conjure him up so well he could be standing there, his dark blue eyes intently fixed on her.
    What would have happened if her father had allowed her to marry Macrath Sinclair? Would her life be filled with joy, or the insane excitement she always felt when he was near?
    Her heart stuttered around Macrath. Her palms became moist. Her emotions were too close to the surface, almost as if she were preparing to shout in joy or weep in despair.
    A magnificent man, Macrath Sinclair, one who’d commanded her thoughts even during her marriage.
    She’d almost been brave once, because of Macrath.
    “He lives in Scotland,” she said, feeling her heartbeat escalate as she spoke.
    “All the better, then,” Enid said. “Far enough away no hint of scandal will touch you.”
    “No hint of scandal?” she asked, turning. “What kind of a widow would travel in such conditions?”
    “One who does so in secrecy,” Enid said. “In the dead of night, if need be.”
    “Could we not appeal to Jeremy’s generosity?” she asked.
    The Dowager Countess of Barrett sighed audibly. “I have already done so. He is