after their reconciliation, Callie had made a stunning discovery tucked in a hidden compartment in the countess’s chambers: Celeste’s journal. The final entry had been a grim declaration of guilt.
Confessions of a Sinful Countess would finally resolve the questions surrounding the deaths of Alfred and Celeste. The truth had been on the page, written in shaky scrawl. Alfred had told her he wanted to end their affair that night following Sin’s angry confrontation. Celeste had fought with him and pushed him in a fit of rage. He tumbled down the stairs, his neck broken. She had fled and had ended with the conclusion that there was no means of escape save her own end.
“There may be ramifications for both of us,” Sin reminded her, his countenance serious. “Scandal. Rumors. This may undo all the good we have done over the last few months. There will be little question as to who is the author.”
Sin had been the first person to read her manuscript. With his blessing, they had given the memoirs to Sin’s friend Decker, who was using the publisher he owned to print not only the memoirs, but also all future publications for the Lady’s Suffrage Society. Decker was a cunning businessman, and he understood the demand for the memoirs would likely be an excellent opportunity for his company. Scandal and salaciousness sold in abundance.
Callie was no fool. She knew how unconventional it was to admit she had written Confessions of a Sinful Earl. She also knew the risk she took in revealing the truth of Alfred’s and Celeste’s deaths.
“This is the only means of removing all traces of doubt concerning you,” Callie told him, resolute. “It is the right thing to do, for everyone.”
“I do not give a damn if the whole world thinks me guilty.” Sin’s hands closed over hers atop the book. As always, his touch awoke her need, unending when it came to him. “You know the truth. If I have your faith, trust, and love, I have everything I need. All I could ever want.”
“I care,” she told him softly. “I am responsible for all England believing you a murderer. It is time to rectify that, and this is the only way.”
“I told you, everyone else can go hang, save you,” he insisted stubbornly.
He was so keen to protect her. How did she deserve him?
“If they must go hang, I will make certain they know you are an innocent man first,” she countered softly. “I love you too much to keep this a secret any longer.”
“Ah,” he drawled, plucking the book from her hands and depositing it on a nearby table before pulling her into a loose embrace, “but I am hardly innocent, little wife. You ought to know that by now.”
As always, he knew what she needed, and when. Their discussion was at an end. The book would be sold. Everyone would read it. Tongues would wag. Callie’s mind was made up.
The undercurrent of desire in Sin’s voice sent an answering surge of yearning through her. Her belly was between them, burgeoning and immense, keeping her from the closeness she longed for from his big, powerful body. Callie’s arms wound around her husband’s neck.
“I do know you are a very wicked man,” she said, her stare dipping to his sensual mouth. “In only the best way possible, of course.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, long and slow. Their tongues glided together. He tasted of tea and sugar. Of sweet temptation. Of promise and hope and redemption. Of love. He took his time, worshiping her mouth. His hands cupped her face, holding her still for his ravishing.
He did not need to worry she would move; there was no other place she would rather be than here, with him. Always. She told him with her kiss, with her lips and tongue.
When he pulled back, straightening to his full, impressive height, his expression took her breath. “I want you.”
She felt positively bovine in her current state. She was large, ungainly. In Callie’s estimation, and according to her mirror, her petite frame looked utterly ridiculous carrying a child. But Sin’s desire for her had never waned. If anything, it had increased as her belly swelled with their babe. She did not mind, for she was every bit as ravenous for him in her current state, if not more so.
Still, she had to remind herself it was the midst of the day and they were in the music room, where she had been playing a tune upon