Five Deadly Sins 1 - Sinfully Wed

Sinfully Wed The Five Deadly SinsBook 1 Kathleen Ayers © Copyright 2023 by Kathleen Ayers Text by Kathleen Ayers Cover by Dar Albert Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc. P.O. Box 23 Moreno Valley, CA 92556 [email protected] Produced in the United States of America First Edition May 2023 Kindle Edition Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited. All Rights Reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. License Notes: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. Prologue London, 1828 Freezing rain pelted the windows of the Earl of Emerson’s London home in Grosvenor Square, hitting the glass in a never-ending icy spray. The sun hadn’t even bothered to peek through the clouds today, leaving everything a murky gray. Appropriate weather given the somber mood of the occupants seated in the drawing room following the burial of a peer. An earl who was much loved and would be greatly missed, at least by the six figures crowding the midnight blue damask settee. The mourners gathered were divided into two distinct camps. The first family of Lord Emerson consisted of his oldest son and heir, Bentley Sinclair; Bentley’s maternal aunt, Lady Longwood, and her husband stood next to the couple’s three obnoxious, overly-indulged children. Lord Longwood, nearly as wide as he was tall, had already availed himself of the table in one corner, which held an enormous number of finger sandwiches, cakes, biscuits, fruit, and cheese. A plate piled high with food was balanced on Longwood’s protruding stomach, his disinterest in the proceedings clear. Across the drawing room, far enough from the massive fireplace centered on one wall so that the chill of the room was much more apparent, sat the earl’s second far less prestigious family. Lady Emerson, a pale trembling wraith wrapped all in black, was reviled in London for having been first an actress, then mistress, and finally wife of the deceased. Next to the widowed Lady Emerson sat her children, Jordan, Tamsin, Andrew, Malcolm, and little Aurora. The children’s reputations, unfortunately, were little better than their mother’s. The Sinclairs were said, mostly by Lady Longwood, to be ill-bred given their mother’s origins. Considered uncivilized by most, the Sinclair children did nothing to dissuade society’s expectations with their behavior, which lacked the most basic of manners. Lady Emerson sobbed into a handkerchief, the grief at the death of her husband visible to everyone present, especially her eldest son. “Had he only stayed home at River Crest,” she wept. “He would be with us today. Or at least he would have perished in his own bed. I’m not sure why Adam was so determined to come to town.” The earl had died, mercifully, in his sleep. Peacefully, the physician noted. A sudden attack of the heart. “Madam.” The newly minted Lord Emerson, title merely days old, addressed his stepmother in an imperious, condescending tone. One far too smug for a young man who had spent the last two years roaming the Continent while bleeding through the generous allowance provided him. “I beg you to cease your weeping if only for the sake of your children.” Lord Emerson’s hostile gaze slid over his five half-siblings huddled on the settee. “My lord,” sobbed Lady Emerson, reaching for his hand. “Bentley.” Lord Emerson snatched his fingers away as if her touch would taint him. “You overstep.” Jordan Sinclair, eldest of the dead earl’s second family, gave his older half-brother a baleful look. The affection between Jordan and the new earl was nonexistent. Their dislike of each other had stirred into near loathing over the last several years as Jordan learned how to manage their father’s estates while Bentley chose to indulge himself. Barely six years apart in age, the two were miles apart in everything else. “Don’t speak to her like that.” Jordan’s calm tone belied the rage simmering beneath his skin. There was not as much as a hint of grief in his older brother or shred of empathy for their father’s widow. “You will treat my mother with the respect she deserves as Lady Emerson.” “Do not allow him into goading you, Jordy,” Tamsin, Jordan’s sister, murmured softly from beside him. “Bentley wishes you to lose your temper so that he can be proven right.” Jordan could be something of a hothead. His reputation as a brawler was well-earned. But he was determined to control his temper. He stayed silent, the flexing of his fists the only sign Bentley had managed to get under his skin. “I am the earl now,” Bentley sneered, puffing out his chest. “Head of the family, such as it is. I have leave to speak to Lady Emerson in any way I see fit.” “Toad,” Tamsin hissed under her breath, forgetting the advice she’d just given Jordan. “You will not,” Jordan challenged in a calm tone. “Regardless of your personal feelings, Bent, my mother is Lady Emerson. Father would want you to show her the respect she is due.” Jordan’s mother, who he loved dearly, was still in a state of shock from the death of their father. Long