do not deserve an audience with her,” Westmorland snarled. “After what you have done, you are damned fortunate I do not shoot you where you stand.”
Sin returned the duke’s glare with one of his own. “As far as I am aware, murder is still a crime, Westmorland.”
“So is what you have put my sister through.” Westmorland stalked toward him, menace in his step. “First, you blackmailed her into marrying you whilst I was on my honeymoon because you are lacking even a modicum of honor. Then, she discovered she was carrying your child, and you spent all night getting soused at a depraved club. After which you promptly made love to your mistress in your study, in plain view of the servants.”
Sin’s ears went hot, but he refused to retreat. “I will own that I blackmailed her into this marriage, and that I drowned myself in whisky that night, but the Duchess of Longleigh is not my mistress, and nor was I making love to her in my study.”
When he had belatedly learned, after Tilly’s departure, that Callie had returned from her call to her brother, only to suddenly leave once more, he had instantly known what she must have seen and the conclusions she had reached. Once again, his own actions looked damning. The fault for that was his, and he would own it. But he had hastened to Westmorland House only to be denied entrance. That Callie would hide from him for an entire night and not even allow him the chance to explain felt like a betrayal.
“Why should anyone believe what you say, Sinclair?” the duke bit out. “You are a known and admitted liar.”
“All I want is the opportunity to speak with my wife,” he returned, undaunted.
“Callie does not want to speak with you,” his brother-in-law snapped. “You have done enough damage. When she is ready to see you, she will let you know.”
Sin was tired of waiting.
He wanted his wife back.
He wanted the woman he loved. It had taken her leaving him to force the realization that he was not just falling in love with Callie. He had fallen a long bloody time ago. Perhaps even the moment she had smashed that worthless piece of pottery over his head back at Helston Hall. When she had demonstrated all her stubborn fire and fearlessness. He could not choose the exact second the balance had shifted. Nor how it had happened. All he did know was that he loved her. And like the sun rising each morning, that love was constant and true.
“I am not leaving until I see her,” he countered evenly.
Westmorland raised a brow. “Then I suggest you enjoy bedding down on the carpets like the mongrel you are.”
His brother-in-law did not like him. Whilst Sin was pleased Callie’s brother was so loyal and protective, he would have preferred a bit less unadulterated hatred being directed toward him. He could admit it was not entirely undeserved.
“All I want is to see her, speak with her, and to give her some things that belong to her,” he said simply, unwavering.
“I will see him, Benny.”
Callie’s voice cut through the thick mutual enmity inhabiting the salon. Sin turned to find her standing on the threshold. A jolt of awareness went through him when their stares met and held. He wanted to run to her, to take her in his arms, to beg her never to leave him alone for another night again.
But he remained where he was, tempering himself. The manuscript in his hands rendered such an action impossible anyway.
Instead, he bowed. “Callie.”
My love. My beautiful, stubborn, delicious woman.
“You do not have to see him,” Westmorland addressed his sister. “If you are not comfortable with this, Callie, I will send him on his way.”
“No.” She shook her head, her gaze still lingering upon Sin. “Thank you, Benny, but I want to speak with my husband. Alone.”
“I am not sure that is wise,” the duke countered, his voice stern.
“What do you think I am going to do to her, Westmorland?” he demanded, nettled.
“Please, Benny,” Callie said, her voice gentling. “I promise you, I will be fine.”
Westmorland sent Sin a vicious glare. “If you hurt her in any fashion, I will break off both your arms and beat you with them. And then I will cut off your ballocks and stuff them down your throat.”
“Gruesome bastard, aren’t you?” Sin muttered.
His brother-in-law merely raised a brow. “Try me, Sinclair.”
“Benny,” Callie said pointedly.
Thankfully, the duke at long last took his leave, but