Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,32
aided me. I am eternally grateful, and oh! It only just occurred to me, are you here to beseech me for discretion regarding you and Lady Guinevere?”
“The two of us?” he said, his mind going immediately to Guinevere’s perfect, plump, treacherous lips. What the devil did this woman know of what had happened in the library last night after she had apparently fled it?
Lady Constantine nodded. “Yes. Were you meeting secretly?”
“Nay,” he said, glad it was true.
“Oh.” Lady Constantine looked and sounded slightly confused and definitely disappointed. “Then why are you here if not to beg for my discretion?”
“Are we still speaking bluntly?”
“Did I indicate otherwise?” she asked, the cheeky chit. He did like her, indeed—as one would a newfound friend.
“I’m here to propose a marriage of convenience between the two of us.”
“Thank God you did not do so in front of my mother!” she said.
“Shall I consider that a nay.”
“You absolutely should! I could never wed you.”
“Is there someone else?” He was once again thinking of Guinevere and now Kilgore, damn the man.
“I daresay there is for both of us.” She gave him a knowing look he didn’t care for. “I cannot fathom why you are here offering a marriage of convenience to me when I saw what I did last night.”
He frowned. “What did ye see? And where exactly were ye?”
The lady cleared her throat, her cheeks pinkening, and then said, “Hiding. I confess I became worried for Lady Guinevere when you passed me and she remained in the library with Lord Charolton. And I saw your face when you were protecting Lady Guinevere.”
He clenched his teeth. “I feel nothing for Lady Guinevere, I assure ye.”
“My lord, you lie to yourself.”
Well there was lust. And old anger, but that was not her concern. “Let’s focus on ye, shall we?” he asked, not liking the direction of the conversation.
“If we must,” she said with a sigh. “But we should do so quickly. I imagine my mother will return soon.”
“What of this man ye say is for ye? Will he wed ye?”
“It is my fondest hope,” she said, looking suddenly sad. “He’s rather a fool, though.”
“Most of us men are,” he agreed, thinking on how foolish he’d been over Guinevere.
“He did very recently give me a bit of hope,” she offered.
That wasn’t good for Asher’s cause. Unless…
“Has he done so before? Might this be a pattern that leads nowhere?”
She shrugged as if she didn’t particularly care. He needed to try another tactic. “If he never offers for ye, what shall ye do?”
“I shall become a spinster.” The steely determination in her voice made him grind his teeth. He was beginning to think his father had set him up to purposely fail. Damn the man.
“Are ye not compelled by circumstances to wed?”
She shook her head. “No. I have a fortune left to me by my mother’s sister, and I have no sister whose future hangs on mine, so I am perfectly able to make the selfish choice not to wed. I’d rather be alone than with someone I do not love. I hope you understand.”
His life would be far simpler if Lady Constantine would agree to wed him, but every avenue of persuasion appeared lost to him. “Are ye certain ye have thought this through?” he tried.
“I have spent the last few years thinking of nothing but this, Your Grace. I’m certain. I have been in love with the same man for quite some time. He is rotten. He has broken my heart, and I fear he will break it again and again, but I love him desperately. Since I do not have to wed, I will not wed unless he asks me.”
“Have ye told yer mother this?” If so, why did the woman admit him today in the first place?
Lady Constantine sighed. “Not the particulars. I could never. I have tried to explain in other ways, but she turns a deaf ear.”
What the hell was he going to do now? His father had named only three ladies who would meet the requirements for Asher’s inheritance. One lady was wed, one lady had just unequivocally refused him, and the third and final lady was Guinevere, who seemed to still be pining after Kilgore and whom he distrusted despite his lust for her.
“May I ask an extremely personal question, Your Grace?”
“Ye may, though I cannot promise I’ll answer it.” He shoved his hand through his hair in frustration.
“I assume a pressing need drove you here to offer a marriage of convenience?”