Page 142 of The Boxing Baroness

“You mean a vulture?”

He barked a laugh. “You little beast.” He pushed his hand below the blankets and pinched her bum, making her squeal. “I was thinking of some more regal bird.”

“Like a goose?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Marianne—just like a goose.”

Her body shook with laughter.

Sin felt a silly smile spread across his face; was there anything more intimate than laughing with one’s lover after making love? If so, he couldn’t think of it.

A moment later, she shattered his warm contentment.

“I know you are nothing like Dominic, but I never would have believed that he would have done to me what he did, either. So, I guess . . .”

“You don’t trust your own judgment?”

She nodded, her silky hair tickling his chest.

Sin had hoped to leave this particular story buried forever, but he suspected it was still too close to the surface for Marianne to forget it.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, love.”

* * *

She wanted to quit picking at the subject—an abhorrent one to her—but something drove her to keep at it, even after Sin made it clear he didn’t want to know. She couldn’t blame him—she didn’t want to know about his lovers either. Not how many there were, how beautiful they were, or any other details.

But...

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, love.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could keep the feeling swelling in her, trapped inside. She loved him so much. But for a time, she had felt almost as obsessed with Dominic. He, too, had said he loved her. He’d charmed her, courted her, and made her feel like the only woman for him.

She told herself she’d been more naïve, just out of school. Barnabas, for all his faults, had kept her away from Dominic until after she’d begun to box, and then he’d suddenly encouraged her to eat dinner with Dominic.

“He courted me—he could be very charming and came across as the perfect gentleman. He never behaved inappropriately with me, always insisting on a chaperone. It was . . .”

“Intoxicating? Overwhelming? Flattering?”

“Yes, all of those things.”

“I saw Dominic when he put himself out to please, Marianne. I was taken in by his charm in other ways time and time again. He used us all. You were not alone in being fooled. He was blessed with many talents, and one of them was the ability to entrance people. At least for a time.”

“Well, he entranced me long enough to lure me into a ceremony.”

Sin had heard of the sort of ceremony she meant.

“Almost as soon as we moved to his house in Chatham he began to change. At first it was little things—like staying out all night. But then he began to bring people to the house.”

He heard her swallow.

“I grew up in a circus—I should have been . . . hardened against debauchery. But you spent time with us. You know how strict Barnabas was.”

“I know,” Sin said. “I’ll admit I was surprised when I saw how little occurred in the way of—”

“Vice, I think was the word you used.”

Sin smiled wryly. “You are correct. I was very wrong lumping the Fayre in with those others.”