Sutton's Spinster: A Wicked Winters Spin-off Series (The Sinful Suttons Book 1)

by Scarlett Scott

  Jasper shook his head, his frown deepening. “I don’t know, love. For now, it shall remain a mystery for another day. All that matters is that whoever the man was, he arrived at the right moment and struck down Tess before she could do you any more harm. I’ll be forever in his debt.”

  As would she.

  He had likely saved her life, only to disappear. How curious.

  A knock sounded at the door, taking Jasper from the bed just before it flew open and Anne and Elizabeth raced over the threshold, accompanied by three eager dogs.

  “Mama,” the girls cried as one, rushing to her side and throwing their arms around her with so much enthusiasm she could not help but to wince as a sharp tug of pain went through her.

  “You must take care with Mama,” Jasper chided. “She’s been injured.”

  “I am not so injured that I cannot hug my sweet girls,” she said, holding them to her with the arm that did not cause the skin around her wound to tighten. “How are you this morning, and where is Miss Wren?”

  “Uncle Rafe said Miss Wren’s sleeping,” Anne announced.

  “Uncle Rafe said we shouldn’t tell,” Elizabeth added.

  Oh dear. Rafe had a good heart, but he was a dreadful rakehell. And Miss Wren an undeniably lovely young woman.

  “Uncle Rafe?” Octavia met her husband’s eyes over the heads of their daughters.

  He had paused in the act of scratching Barnaby’s head. “Perhaps I should investigate. Uncle Rafe accompanied me here last night when I returned from The Sinner’s Palace.”

  “Uncle Rafe said to tell you he’s a gentleman,” Anne said.

  “And then Arsehole started barking,” Elizabeth concluded.

  “Motley,” Octavia and Jasper reminded in unison. “His name is Motley.”

  Upon hearing his true name, the dog in question wagged his tail and barked.

  Octavia bit back a smile. It was not humorous, and yet, it was. Perhaps it was the relief after last night’s terror. Perhaps it was all the happiness swarming her in the wake of Jasper admitting he loved her. Whatever the reason, she felt light and happy, and she would fret over her daughters’ appalling vocabulary later.

  “Before you do your investigating of Uncle Rafe, come here,” she told Jasper, wanting him near to her again. “It is rare I have everyone I love in this room with me in the morning, and I wish to savor the moment.”

  Smiling tenderly, he did as she asked, settling in at her side. Without warning, all three dogs promptly leapt onto the bed as well, each struggling to get as close to Octavia as possible. Barnaby and Drunkard were lying on her legs, and Motley was in her lap, trying to lick her nose.

  “Down, Motley,” Jasper ordered, and the pup settled.

  Anne and Elizabeth lay on her other side, arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

  “We love you Mama,” they said.

  “We all love you,” Jasper told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

  “And I love you all as well,” she returned, happier than she had ever imagined she could be.

  At her feet, Barnaby sneezed.

  Drunkard gave a small bark.

  Motley shifted on her lap and began chewing on the counterpane.

  “Arsehole,” Jasper muttered under his breath, leaning forward to pull the blankets from the dog’s sharp teeth.

  “We heard that,” Anne said.

  “His name is Motley,” Elizabeth corrected.

  Octavia gave him a pointed look. “I am beginning to understand where the girls truly learned such words.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “Well, you did marry a scoundrel, Mrs. Sutton. What else would you expect?”

  What else, indeed?

  Epilogue

  The culmination of all her hard work was in her hands. Her scandal journal’s first issue had finally been printed. Tales About Town had already sold all available copies that morning, but fortunately, Octavia had retained one for herself. As she surveyed the final effort once more, she released a sigh of contentment. She was quite pleased with the accomplishment, which was not just hers but also that of some fellow ladies who had clandestinely reported scandals and worked with her to write the columns.

  Their aim was simple—not just scurrilous gossip, but gossip that was relayed in a humorous fashion. Lightness in a world of far too much darkness, as Jasper always liked to say. But then, there was mostly lightness in their world these days.

  Smiling and humming to herself, Octavia found her way through the townhome to the room Jasper had begun using as his office whenever he was not at The Sinner’s Palace. The door was ajar, and she did not bother to knock, merely crossed the threshold, careful to close it at her back lest any curious pairs of eyes wander by.

  Her husband glanced up at her entrance, a welcoming grin curving his lips. “Are you still carrying about your edition of Tales About Town, my love?”

  She grinned as she crossed the sumptuous carpets in her slippers. “If I am?”

  He rose and prowled around the desk, meeting her halfway and taking her in his arms. “You deserve to be proud of your journal, minx. I’m proud of it and you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, the copy still dangling from her fingertips down his back, but almost forgotten now that she was this close to her husband’s lips. “Thank you, Jasper. I could not have done it without you.”

  “I’ve no doubt you could, but I’m pleased to have aided you.” He nuzzled her ear and inhaled deeply. “Ah, the scent of heaven. I’ll never grow tired of it.”

  “I hope not,” she teased, shivering as his lips skated over the lingering scar from that awful day. It was a reminder she saw in the looking glass. Just how close she had come to losing everything. She had vowed never to take her husband or her children, or for that matter any of the goodness in her life, for granted.

  “I understand the journal’s copies sold in less than ten minutes,” he murmured, kissing and sucking his way to her jaw.

  She tipped her head back and swallowed a moan as he dragged that wicked mouth of his to hers in tantalizingly slow fashion. “Demand for the next issue is high as well, and we have yet to finish collecting all our gossip.”

  Her network of spies in fashionable society was growing by the day. As it happened, ladies took great joy in reporting on the nefarious deeds of gentlemen who had once wronged them. Lord F. got so inebriated at Lady P.’s ball that he relieved himself in a potted palm. The Earl of M. is rumored to be desperately seeking a bride after a devastating loss at the tables.

  And so it went.

  Her plan of secretly renewing her acquaintances with ladies from her old debutante days had proven largely beneficial. The letters she had written had all been returned with gossip or vows to help. As long as they were assured their anonymity, the ladies of the ton were willing to report on every scandal and outrage.

  He gave her a slow, sweet kiss before raising his head and gazing down at her with so much love, her heart ached. “You are a success, my love.”

  “We are successes,” she said. “The Sinner’s Palace II will soon be opening.”

  In the wake of the fire, the family had purchased a new property in a far more advantageous West End location. After some small renovations and the hiring of a chef, the club was almost ready for its official beginning.

  “I suppose I ain’t bad for an East End scoundrel.”

  She rose on her toes and planted her mouth on his, kissing him until they were both breathless and the scandal sheet fell to the floor. “You are not bad at all, Mr. Sutton,” she said when the kiss ended. “In fact, you’re quite good.”

  “Hush now.” He kissed the corner of her lips. “That’s our secret. Can’t have all London thinking I’ve gone soft.”

  “No chance of that,” she said wickedly, slipping her hand between them to cup his rigid length through his trousers. “This part of you is definitely hard.”

  He growled and pressed himself into her eager palm. “Damn it, Octavia, I can’t fuck y
ou on my desk again. You’re in a delicate condition.”

  She stroked him the way she knew he liked, the roundness of her growing belly only slightly in the way. “That did not stop you last time, husband.”

  He kissed her soundly. “I reckon it won’t stop me this time, either, wife.”

  Thank you for reading Jasper and Octavia’s happily ever after! I hope you loved their story, and if you’re wondering what’s going on with the most mysterious Sutton of all, Loge, never fear. The Sinful Suttons has just begun, and the truth will be revealed as the series goes on. If you’re looking for more Sinful Suttons, don’t miss Rafe and Persephone’s smoldering journey to love in Sutton’s Sins, and do read on for a sneak peek. (Wondering about the Winter family? You can find their stories in The Wicked Winters series.)

  Sutton’s Sins

  The Sinful Suttons

  Book Two

  He’s an unrepentant sinner, East End rogue, and devoted charmer of anything in petticoats. But Rafe Sutton has one small problem. He cannot seem to recall what happened between himself and one delectable, surly governess. He woke in her bed with the devil’s own headache and no memory of the evening before. Now, he’s on a mission to unravel the mystery, for the sake of his pride and for the honor he had not previously believed he possessed.

  But Miss Persephone Wren has secrets she cannot afford to reveal. She is not about to allow a madcap rake to endanger her comfortable life as governess to his twin nieces. Persephone knows men of Rafe Sutton’s ilk—they’re the same, regardless of their station. All she has to do is maintain her resolve and her glacial reserve. Eventually, he will tire of his sport and leave her alone.

  When her carefully constructed lies begin to crumble, however, Persephone is faced with a difficult choice. Surrender to the danger awaiting her, or trust in Rafe, the handsome scoundrel who has somehow found his way into her heart…

  Chapter One

  Rafe woke, as he often did, with a woman in bed next to him. Nothing at all out of the ordinary in that regard.

  No, indeed. It was not the bed that was the problem, though it was a mite small.

  Nor was it the aching in his head, which was damned unpleasant, he would not lie.

  Nor, even, was it the fact that he was naked without recalling a single moment of the glorious fucking he must have enjoyed the night before. Though, to be fair, that was a disappointment.

  The true problem was that he did not know where the floating hell he was.

  The room was unfamiliar. Small and spare. That in itself was hardly remarkable. But the carpet was fine. And the windows were large. The light coming in around the edges of the curtains landed in the hair of the slumbering female at his side. Blonde-red, that hair. A truly beautiful color, a combination of fire and gold, like a sunset.

  A sunset?

  What a sapskull. He hoped he was still cup-shot. ‘Twould be the only excuse for thinking such tripe.

  But the woman’s hair was unique and lovely. He didn’t think he had ever seen another shade quite like it, and Rafe had seen a great many ladies with their hair unbound.

  He took up a long curl and twirled it around his finger, wondering who she was. Her back was to him, the bedclothes tucked neatly around her as if they were a protective shield. And for the first time, he took note of something else. She had her own set of bedclothes separate from his. That was damned odd. She was swaddled like a babe, as far from him as possible. There was also a pillow between them.

  Hmm.

  Rafe pulled back his portion of bedclothes to confirm he was as naked as he felt. Nary a stitch. Had his bedmate belatedly acquired modesty? Careful not to wake her, he gently hooked her counterpane with his forefinger and drew it back to reveal her shoulder.

  She was wearing a night rail that was quite fine, trimmed with lace, and a pure, crisp white. When was the last time he had bedded a woman and she had donned a garment, rolled to the edge of the bed, and placed a pillow between them as if it were a defensive wall?

  Grimacing, he tucked the coverlet back into place and then scrubbed a hand over his face. Had he been as arse? Displeased her in some way? Who was she, and where was he?

  Suddenly, the haze leached from his mind. Memories tumbled over themselves. The day before had been steeped in madness, quite literally. His brother’s wife, Octavia, had nearly been killed. Together, Jasper and Rafe had rushed to Jasper’s new townhome, and they had found Octavia suffered from a slash to the throat. The surgeon had been called, the madwoman responsible for the heinous deed taken away by the charleys, and Rafe had been left watching over his twin nieces, Anne and Elizabeth, along with their prickly new governess. He remembered finding the brandy after his sister-in-law had been patched up, exchanging barbs with the woman.

  Surely he had not…

  Nay, he would not have been so depraved, he was sure. And if the governess had possessed such unique hair, he would have taken note. But suddenly, he recalled that all her hair had been tucked away in a hideous cap.

  Still, he would not have bedded his nieces’ new governess, would he?

  Rafe struggled to remember, but his mind was blank as a starless sky. There had been brandy with the governess—Miss Bird was her name, he thought—and then nothing after. The name did not seem right. Not Miss Bird. Something else. Miss Hen?

  A scratching sounded at the door. “Miss Wren?”

  Christ. The voice belonged to one of his nieces. He could not tell the twins apart, not by sight, and most certainly not by voice. Was it Elizabeth or was it Anne? He supposed it hardly mattered. He could not run the risk of them waking the woman whose bed he was currently occupying. It was imperative that she remain asleep until he figured out just what the hell had happened.

  Jasper was going to give him a sound drubbing if he had indeed tupped the governess.

  Gathering the bedclothes around him like a shroud, Rafe rose from bed. He padded to the door in his bare feet and softly opened the door. Two curious sets of hazel eyes looked up at him.

  “Uncle Rafe?” they asked in unison.

  “Where is Miss Wren?” one of the girls asked.

  “Why are you wearing a counterpane?” the other queried.

  He grimaced. “She is sleeping and I… I am cold.”

  Predictably, his nieces began chattering.

  “Why are you in her chamber?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Elizabeth pulled my hair.”

  “I told you I was sorry,” said Anne to her sister.

  And at last, Rafe could tell who was who.

  He blinked, his headache thumping harder.

  “Do not tell your papa you saw me in Miss Wren’s chamber,” he said, though he knew it was wrong to encourage his nieces to lie.

  As if it were not enough that Rafe was wearing nothing but a counterpane and conversing with his innocent nieces while their governess, whom he may or may not have bedded, slept on, another creature bounded down the hall. His brother’s youngest Pup, Motley, approached the girls with a playful bark.

  Damn it, what a muddle.

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  Complete Book List

  HISTORICAL ROMANCE

  Heart’s Temptation

  A Mad Passion (Book One)

  Rebel Love (Book Two)

  Reckless Need (Book Three)

  Sweet Scandal (Book Four)

  Restless Rake (Book Five)

  Darling Duke (Book Six)

  The Night Before Scandal (Book Seven)

  Wicked Husbands

  Her Errant Earl (Book One)

  Her Lovestruck Lord (Book Two)

  Her Reformed Rake (Book Three)

  Her Deceptive Duke (Book Four)

  Her Missing Marquess (Book Five)

  Her Virtuous Viscount (Book Six)

  League of Dukes

  Nobody’s Duke (Book One)

  Heartless Duke (Book Two)

  Dangero
us Duke (Book Three)

  Shameless Duke (Book Four)

  Scandalous Duke (Book Five)

  Fearless Duke (Book Six)

  Notorious Ladies of London

  Lady Ruthless (Book One)

  Lady Wallflower (Book Two)

  Lady Reckless (Book Three)

  Lady Wicked (Book Four)

  Lady Lawless (Book Five)

  Lady Brazen (Book 6)

  Unexpected Lords

  The Detective Duke (Book One)

  The Wicked Winters

  Wicked in Winter (Book One)

  Wedded in Winter (Book Two)

  Wanton in Winter (Book Three)

  Wishes in Winter (Book 3.5)

  Willful in Winter (Book Four)

  Wagered in Winter (Book Five)

  Wild in Winter (Book Six)

  Wooed in Winter (Book Seven)

  Winter’s Wallflower (Book Eight)

  Winter’s Woman (Book Nine)

  Winter’s Whispers (Book Ten)

  Winter’s Waltz (Book Eleven)

  Winter’s Widow (Book Twelve)

  Winter’s Warrior (Book Thirteen)

  The Sinful Suttons

  Sutton’s Spinster (Book One)

  Sutton’s Sins (Book Two)

  Second Chance Manor

  The Matchmaker and the Marquess by Scarlett Scott

  The Angel and the Aristocrat by Merry Farmer

  The Scholar and the Scot by Caroline Lee

  The Venus and the Viscount by Scarlett Scott

  The Buccaneer and the Bastard by Merry Farmer

  The Doxy and the Duke by Caroline Lee

  Stand-alone Novella

  Lord of Pirates