Surrender To Ruin (Sinclair Sisters Book 3)

by Carolyn Jewel

She held out her hand, and he fastened the piece around her wrist. Did she like it? He had no idea.

  “They go well with your gown,” he said. He reached for the matching necklace, and she obligingly turned around so he could fasten it for her. She put on the earrings herself, then walked to the pier glass on the adjacent wall. The gems made her eyes as blue as a sunny sky.

  He stood behind her. The two of them were a stunning contrast. Him so dark and rough, with hair that never behaved. Her so exquisite, breathtakingly lovely, and that cascade of perfect golden curls over one shoulder. More, though, was how the thought of her smile cheered him.

  She touched the necklace and turned her head to watch the light refract from the gems at her ears. “They’re beautiful. All of it. Beautiful.” She turned, chin tipped so she could meet his eyes. She was smiling, and it pierced his soul.

  “You said you liked aquamarines.”

  “I did say that.” She adjusted the bracelet. “They’re perfect, and they’re perfect with this gown.”

  “Perfect for you.” That coaxed more of a smile from her. A real one this time. “What have I done to deserve you but live a reckless, disreputable life?”

  She tried to suppress a smile. “You know I adore that about you.”

  The girl who’d inhabited his brain and resentment these past years was rash, impetuous, and vain. The Emily he held in his mind was an exaggeration of the woman to whom he was married. He’d built up what was unflattering to her and refused to acknowledge her qualities.

  She retook her seat and arranged herself on it. Graceful and serene. Where was the fast-moving hoyden of his memories? True, she’d raced through Mayfair to rescue her dog, but if she hadn’t, Sinclair might have succeeded in stealing her away.

  She bent to bring her sewing basket closer and picked up her needles again. She’d been working on a pair of stockings for some time. He watched her, and his heart turned over. Why? Why had he been so unfair to her? Because. Because. Because the truth threatened to destroy the man he had become after he met Anne. As if that were the only sort of man he could be.

  “Emily.”

  She looked up, questioning.

  “Is there a reason you’ve never invited any of your acquaintances for dinner? The Iddingses, for example? The Strands across the Square?”

  She bent over her project and examined her work, counting off several stitches. For longer than was necessary, he thought. “Dinner should be announced soon.”

  “Your sisters, perhaps? You’ve not had them here since we came to London.”

  “I see them often enough at Portman Square.”

  “Are you not holding at-homes?”

  She rested one hand on her leg and held her knitting in the other. “I understand we haven’t the usual sort of marriage.”

  His stomach tightened unpleasantly. He hadn’t thought about it at all. He’d not insisted, and he ought to have. He ought to have sat her down and asked her to plan a grand party for them here. “It was never my intention that you should not entertain. I should have told you I should like us to entertain.”

  “Very well. Give me a list of people to invite and we shall. Or the reason for the party. I’ll see that the right people come.”

  The words he’d been thinking of saying for some time rushed from him, hot and fast. “Yes. Thank you. Excellent.” She smiled. “Emily, I have arranged for us to be married in the Church of England.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Because I wish it. Because I do not trust your father. If we are also married in the Church of England, it will be harder for anyone to mount a challenge to our union.”

  Her expression went blank. “Whatever you require of me.”

  “And what do you require of me, darling?”

  Her hands, still holding her knitting, were still. “What do I require of you? I require that you not tell me lies.”

  He was taken aback by the retort. “I’ve told you no lies.”

  “Don’t say ‘darling’ when I am not darling to you. Don’t. It makes me unhappy when you tell me lies.”

  “It’s no lie.” He stood tall. “You are darling to me.”

  “How is it we are speaking at such cross-purposes?”

  “I’ve no notion of that either. I say words that have a clear and unambiguous meaning, and you persist in telling me I do not mean them. Emily. Please listen to me.” He was going to come apart. What if it was too late? What if his stubborn refusal to see the quality of the woman before him had cost him her love? “I owe you an apology.”

  “What for?” Already, she was retreating behind that wall. She’d built it for her own protection, but he meant to convince her to take it down. He must. He must.

  “For refusing to accept you. For pushing you away as I have. For not telling you sooner how much I care for you.” He went down on one knee, took her hand in his, and held tight.

  “I know your heart,” she said. She brushed a finger across his cheek. “I know. I am at peace with that. There is no reason for this. I am content.”

  “I thought I could only ever love but once, that my heart was incapable of a similar emotion. But I was wrong. Wrong, I tell you. There is a place for you here, a place where you and only you fit.” He brought her hand to his chest where his heart beat too fast. “You fill that space. You, Emily.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say such things to me.”

  “It’s time I stopped being a damned fool.” He shook his head. “I wanted you. I think I knew all along there was more between us than lust. From the first moment I kissed you. From the moment you walked in on me that day, to the day I pushed you away with words that did me no credit. All of it. I blamed you for my desire. I blamed you for making me feel I was betraying Anne for wanting you.”

  She put her hand around the back of his neck. “I am so very sorry.”

  He gripped her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. It is I who should apologize, and I do, Emily.”

  She turned her head away from him. Her shoulders moved oh so slightly because she’d taken and released a slow breath. Whether he was too late or not, she deserved the truth.

  “Emily?”

  “Apology accepted.”

  He touched her shoulder, then let his hand fall away. “When you told me that I see only what makes you different from Anne, you were right. I should have listened to you the first time you said it. I should have listened to what my heart has been telling me.”

  Her hand came up and made a motion out of his sight that suggested she’d wiped away tears. “What, Bracebridge? What has your heart been telling you?”

  “If I go out, I am happy to come home because you are here. Don’t cry, or please stop if you are. With child or not, I love you, Emily. I don’t know when it happened, but I do love you. I have been falling in love with you for years, and I’ve been too stupid and stubborn to admit it. Worst, worst of all, I’ve hurt you because of it. I don’t love you as I once loved your sister because you are not her. I love you for the woman you are. A woman who has become dear to me, as necessary to me as the very air I breathe.”

  She made a sound halfway between a sob and a gasp, and he moved close enough to bring her into the circle of his arms. At first she resisted, but he smoothed her back, and she leaned against him. “How do you know?” She lifted her face to his. She had been crying. “How do you know you love me?”

  “I feel it here.” He thumped his chest. “Here. I thought—I told myself if ever I fell in love again, I would feel as I did with Anne. But you and I are not like that. You are a different woman altogether.” He held her close and told himself he would not cry either. “What a fool I’ve been. Such a fool. All this time pushing you away.” He stared at her, the woman who had given him a home, her love, her admiration, and her respect. “I love you, Emily. I do love you. With all my heart. There is no more fortunate man in the world than I, if only you still love me.”

>   Her eyelashes sparkled with the remains of her tears. “Not a fool,” she said in a damp voice. “Only stubborn.”

  “Both.” He tightened his arms around her. “What have I done to deserve you?” He kissed the top of her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all. But I mean to change that, if you’ll let me.”

  The smile that always made his heart turn over flashed on her mouth. “I could be persuaded.”

  “What would persuade you?”

  She put her hands on either side of his face. “A kiss.”

  “You shall have that. As many as you like. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving myself worthy of you.”

  When their lips parted after another kiss, she sighed and said, “I tried to stop loving you. I tried.”

  “Praise the heavens, you failed.”

  “Miserably. I do love you. How could I not love you after all the poetry you read to me? Even poetry you did not like.”

  He kissed her again, slowly, tenderly, and when they parted, he said, “This is us, Em. We’re a lusty, lively pair, and I am the most fortunate man alive.”

  “Yes,” she said with a wicked grin. “You are.”

  “Promise me you’ll never let me forget it.”

  Her arms tightened around him. “I promise.”

  He held her close and embraced not just her but the way she fit into his heart. “My brothers would have loved you. I wish they could have met you. I wish my family could have met you and seen how happy you make me. I think even my father would have told me I had at last done something of which he could approve.”

  She pressed her hand to the side of his face. “I wish I could have met them, too. I’m sorry I cannot. But, Bracebridge, my darling, my dear, dear love, don’t regret the past. If your father was anything at all like you, and he must’ve been, for you are his son, he would have approved of the man you became. And if I’m wrong, and he would not have, that does not diminish who you are now.”

  “I love you, Emily. I’d love you if your hair was brown as dirt.” He took her hand in his and placed it over his heart. “Every beat for you.”

  “For us.”

  “Yes, my love. Every beat for us.”

  Epilogue

  Emily’s stomach knotted the moment her sisters walked into the parlor at Corth Abbey. In the next moment, she relaxed because her life was now all that she had dreamed it would be. The tension wasn’t entirely gone. The memory of how desperately she had needed to protect herself left her with the conviction that she had best be armed for disaster. Which was, she knew, absurd.

  Mary and Anne came in together, followed by their respective nursemaids and the children. Aldreth and Cynssyr came in one after the other. Lucy, Emily’s gorgeous black-haired sister, came in on the arm of the man she’d married. Lord Thrale had size and height in common with Bracebridge. After that they were not similar at all. Thrale was handsome enough to rival Aldreth or Cynssyr, and there was always at least a hint of polish about him. Not so with Bracebridge.

  Mr. Rachagorla had arrived yesterday, shortly after the Strands, who had become close friends of theirs. At the moment, Mr. Strand was making much of Frieda. The children ran in to greet Emily and ask whether they might, please, play with Frieda. After accepting a hug and a kiss from each of them, she told them that yes, they might. Cynssyr’s eldest had his father’s green eyes and mahogany hair, but even as young as he was, the boy possessed Anne’s serenity. The children greeted Bracebridge quite prettily, and each of them admired their new cousin.

  Mrs. Iddings and her husband were also here. For Emily, Bracebridge had declared he would tolerate the couple. Fortunately, they seemed to have made a similar sacrifice.

  Papa was not in attendance. She had no regrets about his absence. Unbeknownst to her father, Bracebridge had transferred ownership of the Cooperage to their son, with Emily having the use of the property for her lifetime. He’d said nothing when she allowed her father to live in the house with whatever servants could be persuaded to stay in service.

  As for her father’s expenses, Bracebridge had control of every penny of income the Cooperage produced. And so, to appease Anne, Emily sent her father money every quarter. She had no doubt he would find a way to gamble more than he could afford, but at this point, it was well known among the bookmakers of Bartley Green and most places in London that Thomas Sinclair would be unable to pay debts incurred.

  Mary visited him from time to time, and to Emily’s knowledge, Anne had been once, but not Lucy. Lucy was more like Emily—not prone to forgiveness. She would have been happy to see the father she remembered from her girlhood, but that man no longer existed.

  Shrieks of joy and delight accompanied the children’s departure with Frieda and their nursemaids, both of whom had been told that under no circumstances was the dog to be released from her leash.

  Emily had made peace, of a sort, with Mary. They had come quite close to a permanent break until the day Mary had dissolved into tears on a day early in Emily’s confinement. Her sister had made a rambling, tearful explanation of her actions that had, at last, concluded with a heartfelt apology. She and Mary had never got along, but now there was a friendship building between them.

  “Have you ever seen a more handsome infant?” Bracebridge asked the gathering, smiling like the proud papa he was. He cradled their month-old son in his arms and leaned over to kiss Christopher’s forehead for what had to be the dozenth time.

  “Never in all the history of children,” Cynssyr said with a grin.

  Bracebridge looked ready to agree, but Emily gently elbowed him and said, “Shh. They have their own children, you know. Never make them admit their own aren’t as perfect and lovely as ours.”

  He kissed her cheek. “You are a wise woman, my love.”

  “Yes, I am, aren’t I?” She leaned her cheek against the side of his arm. She was happy, deliriously, wonderfully happy, and she was almost, almost, getting over her fear that Bracebridge would change his mind.

  Lucy left Thrale’s side to embrace Emily and put her mouth by Emily’s ear. “I am so happy for you, my dear, dear sister. I have always wished that you would find happiness.”

  Emily hugged her sister. “Thank you.”

  Lucy stepped back, a vision in rose silk. “How far we’ve come, we Sinclair sisters. Look at us. All of us married to fine and wonderful men who love us and whom we love in return.” She put a hand on her stomach. As Emily had recently learned, Lucy was pregnant with her first child.

  “When we heard the news . . .”

  “You were as concerned as everyone else, I know.”

  “No,” her sister said. “My first thought was that at last he’d come to his senses.”

  She tilted her head. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Lucy took Emily’s hands and drew her away from Bracebridge. Mary, meanwhile, approached Bracebridge with her arms out. Bracebridge did not quickly relinquish his son to the coos and fond kisses of his aunt.

  “I always thought you two would suit each other,” Lucy said.

  “If you did, you’re the only one.” They headed to a corner of the room, and it was like old times, with the two of them whispering secrets to each other. “Was I that obvious?”

  “You?” Lucy touched Emily’s shoulder and laughed. “Bracebridge was just as obvious. I know he had his hopes for Anne broken, but afterward, well, it was plain to me he was doing everything he could to deny his feelings for you.”

  “You never did think such a thing.”

  “I assure you I did.”

  Thrale joined them and slid an arm around Lucy’s waist, then leaned in to kiss his wife’s cheek. “Good afternoon, Lady Bracebridge. You are as radiant as ever.”

  She curtseyed. “My lord.” Thrale was nearly as big and tall as Bracebridge. He, too, practiced the art and science of pugilism and had the physique of someone who was serious about his condition. Overcome by how grateful she was that Lucy had found happiness of her own after her first husband’s passing,
Emily threw her arms around Thrale and said, “Thank you. Thank you for loving my sister.”

  When they separated, he said, “I could do nothing else. I am quite convinced Bracebridge soon found himself in a similar predicament.” He kissed her cheek. “Congratulations on the birth of your son. He’s a fine-looking boy.”

  “He is, isn’t it?” Her entire life had changed again the moment she held her son in her arms. Bracebridge had been so sweet in his relief that she and the infant had come through the delivery, then they’d both been overwhelmed by the responsibilities of parenting. Part of her had feared that once he had his heir, Bracebridge would withdraw from her, but he hadn’t at all. Quite the opposite.

  “He loves you,” Thrale said. “I see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice whenever he speaks of you.”

  “I know he does.” She needed a moment to keep tears at bay. “He loves me, and I love him, and I am so wonderfully blessed.”

  “What’s all this whispering?” Bracebridge joined them and drew Emily to his side. “Christopher is in Anne’s loving hands,” he said.

  She looked over her shoulder to see her eldest sister cooing over the baby. Cynssyr was tickling his feet. “Thrale was telling me tall tales,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  Thrale looked askance at her. “Hardly, my dear sister. Hardly. My lord, I told your wife you are head over heels in love with her, that’s all.”

  “I am.” Bracebridge took her hand and kissed it. “I love her more than my own soul. She is my partner in life and in love. There is no man more fortunate than I, for I resisted for too long. I ought to have surrendered from the very start.”

  Emily’s heart overflowed, and this time, the tears came freely. “Oh, Bracebridge,” she said.

  He took her into his arms. “What’s this?”

  “I do love you,” she said, and that was a truth she was only too happy to accept.

  THE SINCLAIR SISTERS SERIES

  Lord Ruin – Book 1

  Anne and Cynssyr

  He hunted for beauty. He wasn’t prepared for love.