The Devil of Clan Sinclair Read Online Free Page B

some inkling of their dismal future. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have known until after Lawrence’s death.
    Paul had been in Lawrence’s employ for five years and was considered almost a member of the family. Or as much as the Earl of Barrett would consider anyone beneath him to be part of his inner circle. Poor Lawrence was, regrettably, a snob, which was probably why he’d looked down his patrician nose at her. Her only pedigree had been a fortune, and she didn’t even have that now.
    Paul’s eyes sparkled at her, and held what she perceived as a glint of humor, hardly proper for this moment. She moved aside so he could enter the parlor. Instead, he stood there studying her.
    He made her uncomfortable and always had, as if he saw through the pretense of her marriage. But, then, he would know better than most, wouldn’t he, caring for Lawrence as he had?
    He knew how many times she’d visited her husband, how many occasions Lawrence agreed to see her, and how long each of those visits lasted.
    Did Lawrence complain about her after she left? She wouldn’t have been surprised. Paul was a confidant, and since she’d never seen anyone visit Lawrence, probably his only friend.
    She took a step back.
    Something about Paul bothered her. She didn’t like the look in his eyes when he studied her, or the small smile playing around his mouth.
    With Lawrence dead, was there any reason he should still be employed? All their expenses must be examined closely from this moment forward.
    “I would do anything to assist you. Anything at all,” he said. His smile vanished, but he didn’t look away. “Please consider my offer.”
    Dear God, how much had he heard? She wouldn’t put it past Paul to listen at doors. Yet how could she blame him for doing so, since it was how he’d gathered the information about what Lawrence had done?
    She’d kept her concerns to herself. If she’d confessed to Enid that Paul made her uncomfortable, her mother-in-law would have simply looked at her with her nostrils flaring and a pinched mouth—an expression stating, without words, that she was being American and foolish.
    “Thank you,” she said, moving away from Paul.
    He followed her, coming entirely too close. She stepped back but he only smiled, tracking her until her back hit the wall.
    Leaning close, he spoke softly. “Are you afraid of me, Virginia?”
    “Of course not,” she said, pushing her fear down. She wouldn’t let him see how panicked she was.
    But when he reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek, she shivered. His eyes narrowed but he didn’t move away.
    “I wouldn’t hurt you, Virginia. You’d enjoy it.”
    Grabbing a tendril of her hair, he wound it around his finger, pulling her closer.
    She froze, keeping as still as she could even when he breathed against her temple. Closing her eyes, she prayed he’d move away.
    Instead, he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
    “I would promise you would feel nothing but pleasure in my arms, Virginia. You might come to yearn for it.”
    She slid to the left, ducking below his arm, scurrying down the hall. Turning, she looked back to find him studying her intently, almost like she was a mouse in truth and he a hungry cat.
    In that instant, she made up her mind to travel to Scotland. Macrath would be at the end of the journey, and she’d somehow find the courage to seduce him.

Chapter 4

    F our days later Virginia settled into the coach trying to prepare mentally for her journey. Dawn crept on the horizon, bathing the rooftops pink. A faint honeysuckle-tinged breeze cooled her cheeks. Birds nesting in the nearby trees called out a morning song, bidding her be about her task.
    Lawrence’s funeral had been the day before, and Enid lost no time making arrangements. They were to travel only by carriage. Even the stops at the inns were to be done surreptitiously. Her maid, Hannah, and the coachman would arrange for rooms, and she would use the back entrances. No one was to know the