with you and Longleigh.”
“Longleigh is happy for the moment, as he has gotten what he always wanted.” Her hand rested on her swollen belly, which not even the clever drapery of her French gown could hide.
Sin swallowed against a rush of bile. He hoped to God Longleigh had not forced himself upon Tilly. “If there is anything I can do for you, please, do not hesitate to contact me.”
She gave him a sad smile. “You and I both know there is nothing you can do for me at all. But I made my choice, and I alone can live with it.” She looked to Lady Calliope then. “Sin was with me when the former Lady Sinclair chose to poison herself and end her life. She chose her fate, and after the horrors to which that wretched woman subjected him, it was the least she could do to give him his freedom at last.”
The vitriol in Tilly’s ordinarily calm, tender voice took him by surprise. He had known she had no love for Celeste, but he had not realized the depth of her emotion. Still, it was not public knowledge that his wife had ended her life by her own hand.
Lady Calliope’s shocked gasp echoed through the small salon. “She drank poison?”
“She was an unwell woman, Lady Calliope,” Tilly said. “I do hope you will be a better wife to Sin. Lord knows he deserves it. He has been through more than most men can even fathom.”
“As have you, Tilly,” he could not resist pointing out.
Though their contact had been sparse, he cared for her as much as he ever had. He knew how much she had longed to be a mother, and when she had written him with the news, he had been happy for her. He had also hoped she had not made too great a sacrifice to achieve what she wanted.
“I shall do my utmost, Your Grace,” Lady Calliope said, stealing his attention away from Tilly. “Thank you for your confidence. I promise you nothing but my greatest discretion.”
Sin had to squelch a bitter laugh at her pronouncement. In his experience, the bloody woman had no discretion. But he dared not admit it before Tilly. She had enough worries ahead.
“We should take our leave now,” he said then. “Thank you for seeing us. And please remember what I said. If you should need anything at all—”
“Thank you, Sin,” Tilly interrupted. “I do appreciate the offer. It was wonderful seeing you again. You look well. Lady Calliope, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance.”
His betrothed rose from her seat and dipped into an elegant curtsy, her countenance unreadable. “The pleasure was mine, Your Grace.”
Sin and Lady Calliope took their leave from Tilly in grim silence.
It was not until they had returned to the barouche and were once more on their way to Westmorland House that she finally spoke. “Is the child yours?”
His grip tensed on the reins. “No.”
There was no point in prevarication to make her squirm; he would only add further injury to Tilly’s reputation, and he had no wish for that.
“Are you in love with her?” she asked next.
He was not in love with Tilly. He never had been. But he did care for her, and deeply.
“Of course not,” he bit out. “Love is a chimera.”
“Hmm,” was all she said in response.
He cast her a glance. “Are you still holding a candle for your dead betrothed?”
She looked away, breaking the connection of their gazes. “That is none of your concern, my lord.”
“Just as the Duchess of Longleigh is none of yours,” he countered. “You have had your call with her and you have heard what she said. I will hold you to your promise to never utter an ill word about her.”
“Contrary to what you think of me, Lord Sinclair, it is not my pleasure in life to go on spreading lies about others.”
Her voice was quiet, with a sharp, accusatory edge.
As if he had been the one who had wronged her.
“You promise you will not speak of this again?” he demanded, needing her concession. Tilly had appeared the most contented he had ever seen her today, and he would not have that ruined for all the world.
“Of course not,” Lady Calliope said. “I have no quarrel with the duchess. She seems like a kind woman.”
“She is infallible,” Sin agreed. “We have known each other since our youths. She has never wavered.”
“Is it true, what she said, that the previous Lady Sinclair died by her own hand?”