The Virgin of Clan Sinclair Read Online Free PDF

go off and get drunk in the company of willing hangers-on, people who realized that his father was as devoid of morals as he was flush with cash.
    At last count, Ross had four illegitimate half brothers. Each was left a small fortune at his father’s death. Thomas had been less concerned about the three girls. One of Ross’s first decisions was to give each a matching amount of money.
    His second task, and one that had occupied him since ascending to the earldom, was recouping what was left of the Gadsden honor.
    As profligate as Thomas had been in sowing his seed in other places, he had only one legitimate child. As his heir, and the fifth Earl of Gadsden, it had fallen on Ross to attempt to undo decades of scandal.
    A task that wasn’t as easy as simply announcing that he wasn’t his father.
    Everywhere Ross went, his surname alone conjured up memories of glorious debauchery. Just last week a companion had regaled him with tales of how Thomas hired a performing troupe to entertain his guests. Various exotic animals were paraded through the man’s house, defecating at will and terrifying the staff.
    Ross had heard similar tales over the years.
    People remembered a reprobate. From the distance of years, Thomas had become less menacing and more hail-fellow-well-met. People saw him as less of a bastard and more of a boy in a man’s body.
    Too bad Ross couldn’t say the same.
    At least Sinclair had no stories to tell, no episodes of violent temper to recount, no profligate spending or wenching the length and breadth of Scotland and England.
    He himself was not his father’s son. If anything, he was a creature that scandal had made.
    Where his father had defied society, Ross embraced it. He was deferential to matrons, polite to young girls, and respectful to white whiskered men who would advise him on everything from his appearance to his investments.
    Let the gossips go and talk about the Earl of Dumfries with his penchant for horse racing, or the Duke of Barnett who was rumored to have sired a bevy of children from the girls on his staff.
    The fifth Earl of Gadsden was as proper as John Calvin.
    He didn’t covet Drumvagen but he came close to envy when remembering the expression on Sinclair’s face when he spoke of his wife and children.
    Drumvagen had become a home, one that Ross didn’t have even at his beloved Huntly. The sound of laughter was rarely heard in his house, unless it was an errant maid before being severely lectured. A man didn’t speak of his wife heavy with child or bear a look on his face half of desperation and half exuberant joy.
    He’d created order at Huntly, a regimen worked out since he took over the earldom. He knew the exact number of maids and footmen he employed, the costs of their salaries, uniforms, days off, and the cleaning supplies required to keep Huntly spotless. He knew how many horses were stabled and the exact amount of feed they received each day, along with their exercise regimen. He was kept aware of the number of barn cats and hounds on the estate. Each repair to the house or the outbuildings was carefully calculated and planned in advance.
    He made meticulous notes and had a daily schedule he consulted often.
    Yet he hadn’t remembered his anniversary. The date had blindsided him.
    Cassandra had been a beautiful woman. Her laughter still echoed in his mind. She was the perfect wife and would have been a glorious countess.
    She never got the chance, dying two years after they’d wed. He’d been a widower more than twice as long as he was a husband.
    His widowed state had made him a romantic figure. Girls sighed at him. Women fluttered their eyelashes. The widows of his acquaintance were predatory, and the mamas of every eligible female in the whole of Edinburgh bore down on him with fire in their eyes.
    He avoided social engagements when he could or, when he was forced to attend, remained in the males-only bastion when the host was clever enough to create one, and begged