suspect. Lord Sinclair’s rage and hatred for his dead wife was still palpable, a year later. She would not believe a word that slid from his lying tongue.
“Your other brother, my beloved betrothed. The current Duke of Westmorland.” The earl took a sip of his own tea. “Mmm. I do prepare a fine cup if I say so myself. The tea is a bit old, but you would never be able to tell by taste.”
Vile man.
She wrinkled her nose, casting a glance around the cavernous, stone walls of the kitchen. Last night, much of it had been bathed in shadows and darkness. By daylight, all its details were plainly visible. Including the fact that it had been abandoned for some time.
“Where did you find it?” She would not be one whit surprised if there had been rodent offal mixed in with the tea leaves if he had found it within the sparse depths of this centuries’ old kitchen. “And I love Benny as much as I loved Alfred. They are my brothers, my blood. The three of us were inseparable.”
“Fret not, Countess of Sinclair-to-be.” He sipped at his tea again, cool and calm as could be. “The tea is safe to drink. No poison or rat droppings, if that is what you suspect.”
She cast a longing glance in the direction of her own tea before she could quash the urge. So thirsty. She was so very thirsty, and the tea certainly smelled sweet and inviting. She could practically feel it gliding over her tongue.
But there remained one insurmountable problem: he had prepared it.
“I would sooner leap from the window upstairs than become your next countess,” she returned with what she hoped was equal composure.
“Ah, but you had your chance, did you not?” He cast her an amused smile. “Instead, I saved you. You are welcome, by the way. I did not hear you thank me for sparing you the certain fate of the bird who cannot fly.”
He was so smug.
So horrid.
She wanted to lunge at him, strike him. Run from him. She wanted to escape him and never again blight her life with his presence.
“You were the reason I was attempting to leap from the window, so I shan’t thank you,” she bit out.
Her stomach growled again. Quite noisily this time.
His smile deepened, and he picked up another strawberry, holding it to his lips. “These are fresh. So succulent and sweet. You ought to try them, my darling bride. I just heard your stomach revealing you for the liar you are.”
Her nostrils flared. “If there is a liar amongst us, rest assured it is you, my lord, and not I. And nor will I be your bride. You shall have to find another woman to force into the loathsome position.”
“Westmorland recently married, is that not so?”
His calm query set her on edge.
Why was he so preoccupied with Benny? Her beloved brother had nothing to do with her quest for vengeance against the Earl of Sinclair.
“Yes, he did,” she allowed, searching his gaze for answers and finding none.
He was unreadable as ever, the blighter. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he sipped from his tea. “His choice of duchess was somewhat unexpected, was it not?”
She stiffened. Her new sister-in-law, Isabella, had been the proprietress of a ladies’ typewriting school when she had first met Benny. Though Isabella’s mother was of noble birth, her father had been a merchant, and Isabella had initially been in Benny’s employ.
“There is nothing unacceptable about his duchess, if that is what you are implying,” she defended.
She loved Isabella like a sister. Isabella was good for Benny—Callie had seen it almost from the start. And she had done more than her share of matchmaking, attempting to throw the two of them together to facilitate that connection.
“I imagine Westmorland has quite a bit of scandal on his hands at the moment,” Sinclair continued. “A common wife…”
“Isabella is not common!” she protested.
“Special League matters,” he continued as if she had not spoken. “He has stepped down as the leader, has he not? There were rumors, I believe, that he would be removed after the bombings in the House of Commons and the Tower of London. Some said he was too preoccupied with chasing after his new duchess.”
She gritted her teeth. She had heard those rumors as well, of course. They were being bandied about. “Benny is a hero. He is responsible for bringing a dozen Fenians to justice and for keeping London safe. The