Lady Siusan Sinclair is known as one of the Seven Deadly
Sins, along with her other siblings, so it would not be
unusual to have the ton talking about something she did
wrong. But, when a night with a man she did not know,
causes her to run, she finds herself teaching at a school
for girls. Since she didn't get the sin of sloth attached to
her for no reason, her new position is a challenge.
Sebastian, Duke of Exeter never wanted the title so, on the
night of his grand entrance into society, he instead
arranges a meeting with a courtesan. He soon discovers the
woman he was with was not the one he hired. Now, he has no
choice. He must find her and set things right, that is
until he meets his ward's teacher. How can two different
woman stir such similar passions?
In a game of hidden identities and lies, Siusan and
Sebastian find themselves running around in circles. Siusan
tries to stay a step ahead of Sebastian so he does not
figure out that she is the woman with whom he spent that one
wonderful night.
When Siusan must make a choice between proving to her
father that she has changed or saving Sebastian from
another woman by telling everyone what happened that night,
will she make the right choice?
THE DUKE'S NIGHT OF SIN is the third installment in Kathryn
Caskie's Seven Deadly Sin's series, and it lives up to all
expectations. Romantic, funny, and adventurous, I could not
stop reading. I absolutely adored it and cannot wait to read
about the remaining Sinclair siblings, the mischief they
will encounter, and the loves they will find.
Lady Siusan Sinclair, unaccustomed to lifting a finger,
suddenly becomes a rather famous working teacher for
high-born young misses.
The dashing new Duke of Exeter, unaccustomed to anyone
naysaying him, suddenly finds he quite enjoys his daily
clashes of wit with his ward’s outrageous teacher. Then
suddenly, everyone is back to their proper place in Society,
but no one is thinking very proper thoughts.
Excerpt
Chapter One
It has been said that idleness is the parent of mischief,
which is very true; but mischief itself is merely an attempt
to escape from the dreary vacuum of idleness.
~ George Borrow
Autumn, 1816
Blackwood Hall, outside London
The ancient hall was bustling with excited guests waiting
for the presentation of the new Duke of Exeter. It was to be
the bachelor’s grand debut in London Society since rising to
the rank of Duke—which, of course compelled everyone with a
daughter even close to marriageable age to seek an
invitation to the glittering event.
After all, a young, fit, unmarried man was all too quickly
becoming a rare commodity in these turbulent war-torn times,
but a duke...and a handsome one at that (or so it was
rumored—for no member of the ton had actually reported
seeing the man), well, he was a rare prize indeed.
Even so, the novelty of the evening had already worn
gossamer thin for Lady Siusan Sinclair. She was very likely
the only miss in the hall who did not wish be there at all.
“I daresay we’ve waited long enough, Priscilla. No man is
worth waiting about for four long hours—especially in this
heat.”
Her younger sister’s eyes went wide at Siusan’s sacrilegious
words. “An unmarried duke is entirely worth the wait!”
Siusan rolled her eyes as she dabbed her moist neck with her
handkerchief.
“And do not dare perspire,” Priscilla warned, critically
studying the cerulean blue silk dress Siusan wore. “I only
lent you the gown upon your solemn oath that you would not
ruin it. That includes perspiring.” She snatched up Siusan’s
wrist. “Come now, make use of your fan. Mine is keeping me
sufficiently cool. A true lady does not perspire. Remember
that.”
“Aye, Priscilla, I know, however if we do not leave at once—
”
“I am certain you can manage to refrain from glowing for a
few more minutes.” Priscilla narrowed her eyes at Siusan and
then rose to her toes to survey the ballroom.” The duke will
appear at any moment I have no doubt. I am sure I needn’t
remind you of our predicament? His Grace is unmarried and
from the country, some dreary old place in Devonshire. I am
sure he has never even heard of the Sinclairs, and that fact
works in our favor. Our chances of snaring his ring are as
good as any other noble miss’s.”
Siusan stood on the tips of her toes as well and glanced
about momentarily before returning her heels to the floor,
pulling Priscilla down along with her. She moved her mouth
close to her younger sister’s ear, for as the daughter of a
duke herself, Siusan was nothing if not well trained. Like
her brothers and sisters, she just did not always choose to
adhere to the rules of propriety in the strictest sense.
“Keeping us all waiting for his glorious presence, bah. I
daresay, the duke is clearly very rude. Perhaps you are
right, Priscilla. He may fit in with the Seven Deadly Sins
nicely.”
“Hush. Do not refer to our family so vilely. That others do
so does not make it acceptable.” Priscilla glanced around
them to be sure Siusan’s assertion was not overheard.
Convinced that it was not, she growled into Siusan’s ear.
“And besides, my future husband is not rude.”
“Your husband, dear? Did you not just claim that our chance
for winning his ring were just as favorable as anyone
else’s?”
“Aye, but I meant that my chances are equal. Not yours. Do
you not recall that I voiced my claim on the duke the moment
we stepped down from the carriage?”
“Good Lord, are you still six years old?” Her sister’s
reliance on an old game might have been diverting at another
time, but not tonight. “The wretched duke still hasn’t had
the courtesy to grace those waiting for him with his
esteemed noble presence. And besides which, Priscilla, you
cannot claim the duke unless you see him first. That is the
primary rule of the game.”
Priscilla suddenly looked very determined. “Then I shall
ensure that I do see him first.” She started off through the
crowd, leaving Siusan surrying to catch up with her. Within
a minute, Priscilla had climbed a step and positioned
herself on the far edge of the musicians’ dais.
“Priscilla, you are being a great goose. Come down. Please,
let us find our brothers and away.”
Priscilla’s gaze swept the ballroom as she replied. “I have
an elevated view of the ballroom from here, and I will
signal you posthaste the moment the duke appears.” She
turned her eyes back upon Siusan. “That way you will know he
has arrived...and that I saw him first.”
Her sister was being ridiculous. Siusan swiped her cutwork
fan before her face, hoping to coax the humid air into
cooling her face. On another night, the prospect of meeting
a strikingly handsome unmarried duke might have been
sufficient incentive for Siusan to cram into a rented coach
with her brothers and sister and ride eight dusty miles
outside of Town.
But not tonight...of all painful nights.
All she wanted tonight was to be alone with her memories.But
solitude wasn’t a luxury she could afford. She and her
wayward siblings, widely known within Society as the Seven
Deadly Sins, had only accepted tonight’s invitation for one
simple reason--they were willing to do anything to earn back
their father’s approval. Not because they were truly ashamed
of their wild and wicked ways, for indeed they were not.
Their motivation did not run quite so clear and deep. It was
only because the money their father, the Duke of Sinclair,
provided them was just enough to meet their most basic of
needs and those funds were quickly dwindling. Their father’s
man of affairs had made it startlingly clear that no further
pouches of coin were to make their way into the Sinclair
brothers’ and sisters’ hands until they changed their feral
ways and earned the respect the Sinclair name deserved. They
all knew that time was fast running out.
And, well, there was an unmarried duke to be had. What
quicker way for her or her sister to restore respectability
than to marry a duke?
She glanced up at Priscilla who was earnestly sweeping the
dance floor with her gaze.
Well, her sister could have him. Tonight, Siusan just didn’t
care—about dukes, money, even her father’s respect. With a
sniff, Siusan raised her chin and surreptitiously dabbed a
lace handkerchief to an errant tear budding in her eye.
Tonight marked one year. A full heart-breaking year without
Simon. And despite her brother Grant’s good intentions, no
amount of whisky en route to the gala could lessen the
aching heaviness in her heart this night. The spirits only
made her head spin.
Gads, she wanted nothing more than to leave this place and
be alone. The moist heat emanating from the sweating hordes
of ladies in pale silk gowns and gentlemen in dark coats
thickened the air, adding to her irritation.
It was hard enough for Siusan to breathe in her over-tight
corset, but the stays were a necessary evil to fit into
Pricilla’s cerulean gown. Simon had always favored her in
blue, and this gown in particular.
The backs of her eyes began to sting anew. Lud, the crush of
perspiring bodies was unbearable! What benefit would the
beautiful silk gown be to either of the Sinclair sisters if
it became sodden with perspiration and ruined?
Nay, she had to remove herself from the crowd, even for just
a few moments. And maybe in that time, she would be able to
rein in her grief, and mask herself with the composure
expected of a Sinclair.
She made her way through the ballroom into a grand entry
hall. The vaulted ceilings were higher there, but three
small windows were no match for the heat of hundreds below.
Och, where was the door? Like the other Sinclairs, Siusan
was extraordinarily tall, and by standing on her toes, she
just managed to see over the shifting sea of guests to a
darkened passage just ahead to her left. She made for it,
but the crush of humanity was too great. She could not move
through the crowd. And then she saw him. A tall officer with
gleaming red hair ..and God above, could she be mistaken, or
was he wearing the uniform of the Royal Scots Greys? It was
eerie how much he resembled Simon.
Her heart thrummed in her chest. Simon? Of course, it could
not be...and yet—she had to get closer. She tried to follow
him through the crowd. Aye, his tunic was scarlet with a
gold and blue striped sash around the waist. Simon’s
regimental dress uniform. The one he’d been wearing when he
asked her father for her hand.
Gritting her teeth, she focused on the shifting sea of
people.
“Sir. I say, sir!” she called out to him. A quartet of
people parted to let Siusan through. “Please, wait for me. I
see you.” She pushed forward, squeezing her way down the
hall. “Please do excuse me. He is just there. Thank you.
Thank you ever so much.” She edged her hip sideways through
the next gathering, but she was losing sight of him. She
raised her hand into the air. “Please wait. Just another
moment.”
But after a minute, he had disappeared. She had crossed the
entire grand hall, but he was gone. Siusan started back,
still scanning the crowd for any glimpse of the officer. Of
course it was not Simon, but rather her mind playing tricks
on her eyes, filling in Simon’s features for those she
hadn’t seen clearly enough. Hers eyes were stinging.
Logically, she knew this, but still she kept searching. She
had to fully see his face to tamp out this foolish fantasy
that somehow Simon was here and had not died from his
wounds.
Stop this folly, Siusan! Simon died, she reminded herself.
You saw him die.
She spun around, unable to give up her search. Mayhap he
knew her Simon, could tell more about what happened at
Waterloo. After Simon returned from the battle, his mind was
oft dull with laudanum. The words he managed to speak were
sharp and cruel, likely coaxed between his lips from pain.
Suddenly, she spied a hallway she hadn’t noticed before.
Perhaps he went down the passage. It was possible.
The temperature of the dimly lit passage was somewhat
cooler, but her head was whirling from the whisky and the
heat of her rush through grand hall. What she truly required
was an open window and some time alone to calm herself. To
rid this all too vivid memory of Simon from her head.
She hurried to the first door. After a wary glance behind
her to be certain she had not been observed leaving the
gala, she pressed down on the latch and peered inside. A
wand of moonlight reached between the drawn curtains,
allowing just enough light for Siusan to discern an snug
library. She slipped inside and pressed the door closed
behind her.
She could smell the oiled books on the shelves lining the
walls though she could not see them. But for the thin swathe
of moonlight coming through a break in the curtains, the
room was utterly black.
Siusan started for the window but within her first three
steps her knee slammed into something low and hard—a table?
She bit into her lower lip to stifle a whimper. Her knee
throbbed.
Reaching out, she felt for a place to sit down, her hand
finally finding a cushioned sofa. Limping around its arm,
she sat down and hoisted her skirt up and pulled the ribbon
at her thigh then drew down her stocking to rub her barked
knee. It wasn’t bleeding, which was a good thing, since this
was her last pair of silk stockings and she hadn’t the money
to buy another if they were ruined.
Just then, she heard the door open. Her breath seized in her
lungs.
Moonlight just barely touched the angular face of a large
man. He was hardly two strides away.
Her heart pounded. How respectable would it appear for her
to be found in a room meant for family, not guests?
Thankfully, the library was cloaked in night. If she didn’t
move...barely breathed the man mightn’t even know she was in
the library with him.
But then, his eyes shifted to her and she saw a smile roll
across his lips. She followed his gaze and saw that the lone
shaft of moonlight was draped across her bare thigh.
“There you are. I couldn’t recall if you said the
ante-parlor or the library,” he whispered, striding fast
toward her. “Suppose I guessed right, eh?”
Siusan sat stunned, her mind all a jumble about what to do.
“I apologize for leaving you to wait. Went out for a long
ride. Had to. I cannot endure the crowds and all of this
meaningless fuss.” He came and stood before her, his feet
firmly positioned either side of hers. His hand shot out and
one finger slid alongside her jaw, easing her head back
against the sofa cushion.
Siusan’s heart thudded in her chest. Panicked, she opened
her mouth to tell him that she was not who he thought her to
be, when suddenly his lips were moving over hers. She
shivered as she felt his tongue ease into her mouth and
began stroking the insides of her cheeks, twirling around
her tongue. The peaty notes of brandy lingered on her
tongue, and as she focused on the taste of his mouth, she
didn’t at first feel his other hand move between her legs
and begin to caress her thigh.
When she did, Siusan clamped her legs together. He lifted
his mouth a scant breath from hers and exhaled a short
laugh. “Come now, it is not as if it is the first time.” He
nudged her knees open just a bit, then touched her bare
thigh again, softly moving his fingers higher between her
legs. Touching her just there. “And I know you like this
quite a lot.”
God, she did. A low moan slipped from her lips. But
how—Siusan’s eyes went wide—how, pray, could he possibly
know this? Her mind spun like a leaf caught in a whirlwind.
No one else knew. Except Simon, of course—but he’s—.
Suddenly he was lifting her, and then her back brushed the
seat of the long sofa. He stood beside her as he unbuttoned
his waistcoat, dropping it to the floor. Within an instant,
he’d unwound his neckcloth and pulled his lawn shirt over
his head.
She peered up at him. His face was obscured by darkness but
the shaft of moonlight cut across his muscled chest, scored
his abdomen and defined the hardness beneath his breeches.
Lord above. He was so very, very male. To her own
embarrassment, moist heat began to collect between her
thighs.
What was she doing? Aye, she was no longer a maid, but no
one knew this. And it had only been Simon, her betrothed,
the man she would have married.
Until Waterloo left him torn in shreds.
He hadn’t been expected to survive the night, let alone his
transport home. But somehow he did, if only to writhe in
agony for weeks at her side, muttering the most hurtful
things, untruths she knew he said to drive her from his
side. To spare her from seeing him finally succumb. One year
ago...tonight.
He moved from the light, and she felt him part her knees.
The cushion beneath her gave and she felt him move between
her legs.
She couldn’t see him now, and she knew he couldn’t see her
face as he leaned over her and began kissing her again. She
closed her eyes and remembered Simon. How she missed him.
How she missed the feel of him. Tears welled in her eyes.
She felt part of herself die alongside him that night, one
year ago.
But in this man’s arms something miraculous was happening.
She could scarce believe it, but there was no denying...she
was beginning to feel again. As if...as if his tenderness,
his kisses pressing down on her lips, her neck...my God, it
was as though he was raising her from the dead.
And she did not want him to stop.
Aye, it was wicked, but her body and her mind needed this
confirmation of life.
Her eyes snapped open. She could let herself have this.
Reclaim her life.
Just one night.
No one would know. Even he thought her to be someone else.
Just one night of sin. That was all.
And in that moment, her decision was made. She raised a hand
and ran it through his thick hair, holding him to her as she
responded to his passionate kiss while she stroked his
muscled chest.
“Mmm,” he moaned, stealing one last kiss. He leaned back
slightly and ran his fingertips over her breasts, making her
arch into his touch. He moved lower and eased his hands over
her belly, then beneath the rumpled skirts about her hips.
He pushed up her silk chemise and petticoat. His mouth was
searing as he kissed the inside of her thighs easing her
legs wider, opening her sex to him.
Siusan closed her eyes. Oh, God, this is madness. But she
wasn’t going to stop him now. His touches and kisses had
wound her body so achingly tight. He made her feel so alive
again, the way she had when she was with Simon.
Aye, Simon. She would think of Simon.
His mouth centered on the heat between her thighs. He sucked
on her core, flicking her, swirling his tongue with all
knowing surety.
Simon. Simon. She struggled to hold an image of him in her
mind. Only, Simon had never done this—so wicked a thing. Oh,
God. Oh, God.
A warm shiver shook her. Simon never made her feel this way.
Ever.
She trembled as his fingers spread her folds then eased
inside of her, curling up slightly as he circled her
womanhood with his masterful tongue. She moaned and twisted
as heat spiraled tighter and tighter inside of her.
Her legs began to quiver uncontrollably. An urgency grew
within her, one that she knew only a man could quell.
With both hands, she grasped his head and turned it up
toward hers. When she felt him face her, she leaned down and
caught his arms, dragging him back up to her.
In the darkness, she heard him laugh softly, and he moved
and rose to kneel between her legs. She extended her arm
until her hand felt his breeches stretched tight over his
erection. Then both of her hands felt his trousers,
searching and finally finding the buttons to his front fall.
Against the strain of fabric, she fumbled to release the
buttons.
His hands came down over hers, then moved them aside to the
fall himself. At once the front fall released and she felt
the heavy weight of his cock bounce down against her before
rising again.
She grasped its long thickness and skimmed her fingertips up
its shaft to its plump head the way Simon had once tutored
her, hardening him to stone. In the wedge of moonlight, she
saw a droplet pearl at his tip. She spread it over its
crown, making it slick...for her.
The sound of the crowd in the ball room swelled, and she
felt his body twist. He was looking toward the door.
Nay, we’ve not gone this far only to stop now. Siusan pumped
her hand once more, then boldly set his plum-shaped tip
against the entrance to her wetness.
He groaned aloud and arched his body over hers, poised to
take her.
Her anticipation was so great, she could scarcely catch her
breath, but when the musk scent of him filled her senses,
her yearning grew ever more intense.
She thrilled at the sensation of his hot muscled body
between her thighs. She needed to feel him inside her.
Needed to feed a hunger like no other she’d felt.
He eased his hardness into her moist folds, brushing past
that place he’d made so sensitive with his skilled tongue.
She shivered and brought her legs up and nearly around him.
In a low voice, he swore beneath his breath and then all at
once, he grasped her wrists and held them on either side of
her head as he thrust into her sheath. She gasped as her
body stretched to him. Unbidden, her muscles gripped him and
she arched up, driving him deeper inside.
He slammed harder into her, filling her, almost to the point
that she could not bear it. His fully aroused penis stroking
her so forcefully created a mutiny of sensation, pushing her
to the edge of sanity.
A whimper of carnal pleasure slipped from her mouth, drawing
his attention. He kissed her again, hard at first, then
slower and more gently, all the while pressing into her
again and again, making her even wetter.
She gasped against his mouth, then again and again. He
thrust into her harder and faster, until her muscles spasmed
with an intensity she’d never known, overwhelming every inch
of her with pulsing ecstasy.
With his last stroke, he swore again and tried to pull back,
but her legs held him in place. Too long. His body suddenly
arched and jerked into hers until his weight collapsed atop
her. A sheen of perspiration broke over his back.
Panting, he rested upon her. “I’m sorry. I tried—. Christ,
I’ve always been able to stop. Always.” He pushed up finally
and came to his feet, busying himself with dressing.
Siusan slid to the corner of the sofa, her fingers
scrabbling for the ribbon to her stocking. In the black of
the room she couldn’t find it anywhere. So, instead, she
rolled the top of her stocking to hold it in place, then,
with a yank, she returned her skirts to her ankles. She sat
still, keeping to the darkness, until she could make her
escape.
He bent to retrieve what Siusan guessed to be his waistcoat.
This was her moment. As quietly as possible she rose from
the sofa, slipped around behind it and started for the door.
“Wait.” His hand curled around her wrist. “I would be remiss
if I allowed you to forget this.” There was a clink of coins
as he pressed a small leather bag into her palm.
She couldn’t help herself. Siusan turned, her face catching
the moonlight momentarily as she looked down at the bag,
torn between her family’s dire need of the money and feeling
like she would have sold herself if she took it.
He released her wrist and his hand dropped to his side. “You
are not...oh God, you are not Clarissa.”
“Nay, I am not.” Blast, I should not have said anything!
Abruptly, she dropped the bag on the floor, and when he
instinctively bent to retrieve it, she opened the door and
ran down the passage, chancing a hunted glance over her
shoulder.
“Oof!” She’d slammed into a stocky auburn-haired man
rounding the corner into passage just as she turned. She
glanced back again as she twisted, and as she slid around
him, she saw the man look down the passage toward the
library.
Her secret lover stepped from the library at that very
moment. Siusan lunged for the crowd. Suddenly, the masses
surged forward and she was swallowed up into the swell.
She heard the bang of the liveried footman’s staff on the
floor behind her. “All hail, His Grace, The Duke of Exeter!”
Siusan pushed against the current of guests rushing forward
to see the duke, just catching notice of her sister amongst
there number.
“Priscilla!” She lunged forward and caught her sister’s arm.
Startled, Priscilla turned to her. “There you are, Su! We’ve
been looking everywhere for you. But here you are and just
in time too. The Duke of Exeter has just been announced!”
“I am aware, but we have to find our brothers and leave at
once.” She tugged on Priscilla’s arm.
“I daresay, I am not going anywhere.” She furrowed her brow,
annoyed.
Siusan grabbed her sister’s shoulders. “Listen to me. We
must leave.”
A young woman bumped into Priscilla while blindly racing
forward to join the crowd. This only raised her sister’s
ire. “I haven’t yet met the duke.”
“But Priscilla, I have, and if we do not quit this gala, the
duke may recognize me and—oh God—Da will never forgive me
for what I have done. Do you understand? He will toss me to
the street before the week is out.”
Priscilla’s eyes rounded. “Gads, Su, what have you done
now?”
Heat washed into her cheeks. “I-I will admit all to you
later. I swear. Presently though, I need for you to locate
our brothers. We must away. I will meet you in the
carriage.” She pinned Priscilla with her gaze, hoping to
impart the urgency of her words.
Priscilla nodded and then plunged into the crowd.
Siusan hurriedly descended the staircase. Budding tears
stung her eyes as the liveried footman opened the doors,
releasing her into the night. She could scarcely catch her
breath.
She was such a fool. A damnable weak fool.
One night of sin...might well have cost her future.
© 2003-2025 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved Privacy Policy