The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance by Candice Hern, Bárbara Metzger, Emma Wildes, Sharon Page, Delilah Marvelle, Anna Campbell, Lorraine Heath, Elizabeth Boyle, Deborah Raleigh, Margo Maguire, Michèle Ann Young, Sara Bennett, Anthea Lawson, Trisha Telep, Robyn DeHart, Carolyn Jewel, Amanda Grange, Vanessa Kelly, Patricia Rice, Christie Kelley, Leah Ball, Caroline Linden, Shirley Kennedy, Julia Templeton Page B

forwards to rescue the empty wine glass from her loosening hand.
    As he straightened, he laughed softly and she struggled not to hear fondness in the sound.
    Kinvarra wasn’t fond of her. He’d never been fond of her. She’d been foisted on him by family arrangement, an English heiress to fill the coffers of his Scottish earldom. Her foul behaviour during their year together had only confirmed his suspicions that he’d married a brat.
    “Let’s have our supper before it gets cold. You’re exhausted.”
    She let him take her hand and raise her to her feet. It seemed odd that so much touching was involved in sharing this room. She hadn’t expected it. But she was in too much of a daze to protest as he led her to the small table and slid a filled plate before her.
    She was so tired that it hardly registered that Kinvarra acted the perfect companion. When she couldn’t eat much of the hearty but simple fare, he summoned the maids to clear the room. He left without her asking to grant her privacy to prepare for bed. She was too tired to do more than a quick cat wash and she had no intention of removing her clothes. When he returned from the corridor, she was already in bed.
    What happened now? Trepidation tightened her belly and she clutched the sheets to her chest like a nervous virgin.
    He looked across at her, his eyes enigmatic in the candlelight. Inevitably the moment reminded her of her wedding night. He’d been the perfect companion then too. Her gentle knight, the beautiful earl her parents had chosen, the kind, smiling man who made her laugh. And who had taken her body with a painful urgency that had left her hurt and bewildered and crying.
    After that, no matter what he did, she turned rigid with fear when he came to her bed. After a couple of weeks, he’d stopped approaching her. After a couple of months, he’d stopped speaking to her, except to quarrel. After a year, she’d suggested they live apart and he’d agreed without demur. Probably relieved to have his troublesome wife off his hands.
    She lowered her eyes and pleated the sheets with unsteady fingers. “Are you coming to bed?”
    He arched one eyebrow in mocking amusement. “Why, Lady Kinvarra, is that an invitation?”
    She felt her colour rise. How ridiculous to be a worldly woman of twenty-eight and still blush like a seventeen-year-old. “It’s a cold night. You’ve had a hard ride. I trust you.” Strangely, so quickly on top of her earlier uncertainty, it was true.
    He released a short laugh and turned away. “More fool you.”
    Confused she watched him set the big carved chair beside the fire. He undressed down to breeches and a loose white shirt. “It’s only a few hours until dawn. I’ll do quite well here, thank you.”
    When he’d insisted they share a room, she’d wondered if he had some darker purpose. Some plan to take the wife who so profligately offered herself to another. To teach her who was her legal owner.
    But his actions proved her wrong.
    What did she expect? That he’d suddenly want her after all this time? She was a fool. She’d always been a fool where Sebastian Sinclair was concerned.
    The constriction returned to her throat, the constriction that felt alarmingly like tears. She lay back and forced herself to speak. “Goodnight, then.”
    “Goodnight, Alicia.”
    He blew out the candles so only the glow of the fire remained. She listened to him settle. He tugged off his boots and drew his greatcoat over him for warmth. There was an odd intimacy in hearing the creak of the chair and his soft sigh as he extended his legs towards the blaze.
    She stretched out. The bed was warm and soft and the sheets smelled fresh. She was weary to the bone but no matter how she wriggled, she couldn’t find that one comfortable spot.
    Recollections of the day tormented her. Harold’s desertion, which should have been a considerably sharper blow than it was. If her original plans had eventuated, she’d now be lying in his