Lord Sinclair had paid him a call there, argued with him, and threatened him over his illicit relationship with Lady Sinclair. She must not forget that the man holding her captive was the last who had seen her beloved brother alive, aside from the servants. Or that his wife had died that same night. Two problems, gone from the earl’s life.
Forever.
“I have never killed anyone or anything,” the earl told her solemnly, his lips far too near to her ear. “Not even a damned pheasant. I hate to dispel you of your notions that I am a murderous monster, princess, but I am not.”
She thought about the evil-looking blade he kept upon his person. And his abduction of her.
“Do you truly believe I will accept anything you say as truth?” she demanded.
“Suit yourself.” He released her at last, rolling away. She tried to ignore the sense of loss, as unwanted as his presence had been. “But I have never harmed another soul. I did not kill my faithless wife. I did not kill your foolish brother.”
She turned toward him, stymied by the binding on her left wrist, which held her captive as surely as he did. “My brother was not foolish. He was one of the most intelligent, good-hearted men alive.”
Indeed, she had never known anyone better, aside from Benny and Simon.
Her mouth went dry as the Earl of Sinclair slipped from the bedclothes, revealing his bare back to her. He was all muscle and sinew. Broad shoulders, lean waist. And the way his smalls clung to his firm bottom was… Positively sinful. That was what it was. She could not entirely banish the effect he had upon her.
He turned toward her, catching her staring, and raised a brow. “My former wife was a coldhearted shrew who ate good-hearted men for breakfast. I am sure your bloody brother never stood a chance against her.”
He spoke with such rancor that it took her aback. “You hated her.”
The three simple words hung in the air between them.
His brown gaze was upon her. Searing her. “I loved her once. Stupidly and without reason, other than that she was beautiful and told me everything I wanted to hear. The hatred, however, was earned. She worked hard for that. She deceived me, cuckolded me, and stole from me more times than I can count.”
Sinclair’s admission shocked her. But then, his earlier words returned to her. My wife was a manipulative whore. For a moment Callie could not think of a single response. Her impression of Lady Sinclair, aside from the recollection of her loveliness, was vastly different. She had been a stunning woman, almost ethereal. The perfect foil to a man of the earl’s dark, sullen masculine beauty.
“She was quite gracious when I met her,” Callie managed to say.
“I have no doubt she was.” His tone, like his expression, was grim. “The heartless bitch would have been better served had she trod the boards as an actress.”
“My lord,” she gasped, shocked. “It is unwise to speak ill of the dead.”
“Or what?” The grin he sent in her direction was cold. “Hmm? They shall haunt us? Too late for that, princess. That woman ruined me a long time ago. There is nothing she can do to me from the grave that holds a candle to what she did to me when she walked this earth.”
So much unabated vitriol. And for his own wife.
He retrieved his knife then and stalked toward her side of the bed, still indecent in nothing more than his smalls.
Callie stiffened at his approach but refused to flinch away from him.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Lady Calliope,” he told her curtly, taking her wrist and slicing through the cord which had bound her wrist. “I will not hurt you.”
“I am to believe the man who has taken me captive?” she bit out, rubbing her newly released wrist.
The freedom felt exhilarating.
He shrugged. “Believe what you like. You already do.”
His chest was fascinating. She tried not to look at him, truly she did. But aside from the artwork and sculptures she had seen in Paris, she had never before had such a thorough view of a man’s naked torso. The Earl of Sinclair’s was splendid. There was no other word for it.
She blinked, forcing her gaze away from those sculpted slabs of muscle. “You were the last person to see Alfred alive, my lord, aside from the servants, who overheard you threatening him. It seems an impossible coincidence for both the wife you