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She used him. And he allowed it. But there was a limit to what he would accept—even if it cost him as much to sever their renewed connection as it did her. That as much as everything else made her blood burn with a fierce need to find a way to cling for just these few days longer. Enough time to regain the equilibrium that would let her turn her back once more on Cameron Sinclair and leave him behind.
As if she’d been sucker punched in the gut, every bit of breath and strength left her. She slumped down on her bed, rubbing her temples against the headache that blossomed behind her eyes. “No, of course not.”
He made it as far as the door before turning back. “This will end it, Morgan.”
Left alone, she flopped back on the bed, staring up into the bed curtains. With no way to tell which it he referred to.
Cam balled up his latest attempt at a suitable reply to his uncle’s gently couched order and threw it on the fire. Euna’s impressions notwithstanding—her message had clearly been meant as a command from on high: Come or, once again, you will have disappointed us.
Tired of being the family’s black sheep, Cam wanted nothing more than to confront Sir Joshua and lay it on the line. Mayhap then he’d find a peace with his family he could live with.
Plowing a hand through his hair, he made his decision. Left the library to look for Amos and found Susan, letting her know where he meant to go and when he’d be back.
Susan paused in the midst of supervising a pair of day workers, the girls shrinking away from him as if they expected him to breathe fire.
And no wonder.
A glance in the hall mirror on his way out the door showed him a man girded for battle, a face etched in grim lines, a mouth pressed thin, shoulders bunched somewhere around his ears.
The walk to his uncle’s house in Curzon Street took less time than he’d hoped and soon enough, he stood facing Sir Joshua’s long-faced butler, Beasley.
“Colonel Sinclair.” The man bowed him in, curiosity alive in his pale eyes.
“Is my uncle at home?”
“Just preparing to go out, sir. But I shall let him know you’re here,” he answered as he led Cam to a sitting room to await his uncle.
As Cam crossed the hall, another door opened, a man bowing his way out. “Good day, milady. Miss Sinclair. I’m sorry the necklace turned out not to be yours, but I’ll not complain. For it allowed me to beg an introduction to the most beautiful woman in London.”
Cam gave a sneer of contempt. Please, that was laying it on a bit thick.
“I hope to see you both at the Abercrombies’.” The man turned and, spying Cam, tipped his hat on his way by. “Your servant, sir.”
Cam offered a stiff nod at the ass prowling around his sister. God help her if that was the sort she preferred. As drab as paste.
Left kicking his heels, Cam moved restlessly from hearth to windows to desk and back. He caught his hand reaching for his cross, and cursed himself for a superstitious coward. He didn’t need courage to face his uncle. Only resolve.
The door opened behind him.
“Cam, you’ve come. I knew you would. Will you join us at the Abercrombies’?” Euna hurried to grab up his hands, her face awash with delight, a new womanly ripeness to her features he’d not noticed before. No wonder his aunt and uncle guarded her so closely. And no wonder that poor excuse for a man had been sniffing around her.
“Who was that fellow just here? Not your type, I hope.”
Euna wrinkled her nose. “Hardly. His name’s Lieutenant North. He came calling to return a necklace he’d found on the street outside Gunter’s. Someone thought it was mine, though I’ve not lost any jewelry, and told him so.” She dismissed the annoying lieutenant with a toss of her gold curls. “Enough about North and his necklace. Did you decide to answer Uncle’s invitation?”
“I’m not made for dancing and I’ve always been a poor flirt. The women would be disappointed.”
Euna dimpled. “If you think that, you’ve not looked in a mirror lately.”
He lifted an eyebrow at Euna’s choice of phrase.
She linked her arm through his and pulled him toward a couch. “Although your hasty marriage has definitely soured the hopes of more than a few. Tell me about her.”
“About who?”
She shot him a disgusted sister look. “Don’t be coy. About Morgan. She frightens me. And amuses me. And makes me want to know her better all at the same time. How did you two meet?”
“At a military ball in Edinburgh last winter.”
