The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,10

cracked a smile. “It’s hard to be a good MP if you can’t make a persuasive argument. Come. Montborne is in the library. Unless you want to have this discussion in the kitchen?”

Con pushed his mug away and rose. “At least there will be brandy there.”

Tony’s half-smile remained plastered on his face. He shook his head and preceded Con from the room. “We’re all happy about your new situation, you know,” he said over his shoulder. “You’re the one acting as though we’re dragging you to the guillotine.”

Maybe that’s because I don’t want to be held accountable for raising some other man’s bastard. Con scowled at his brother’s back, but he still couldn’t blame Tony for his current predicament. “I don’t see any of you running out to procreate.”

Tony laughed outright this time. “That’s because we’d have the decency to marry first, which is a completely unnecessary punishment when there are so many of us to carry on the family name. But you bring me back to my point—” He rapped once before opening the library door and waving Con inside. “Lady Elizabeth Spencer deserves to be married.”

“You must be joking,” Con said at the same time their eldest brother, Roman Alexander, Lord Montborne, turned his curly blond head from the long window and said, “God’s teeth, Tony, but you do have the worst ideas.”

Relief coursed through Con. It wasn’t always this easy to find an ally in Montborne. If Bart and Darius decided to weigh in, there could be an out-and-out brawl, with the best case being Tony and Bart teamed up against Darius and himself. The two sets of twins pitted against each other. Con regarded his oldest brother hopefully. If Montborne took Con’s side, that would make three against two. When one argued with an MP and a barrister, any help was appreciated.

Montborne tsked and went to his sideboard. He hated choosing sides.

But there was hope. Con waited, more patiently now that Montborne had voiced an opinion in his favor, as his oldest brother poured stiff drinks for all of them. Maybe this wouldn’t be as painful as he’d feared.

Tony raised his snifter after they each had one in hand. “A toast. To Constantine’s young son. May he have as happy a childhood as we did.”

The dry bread from Con’s quick repast must have stuck in his throat. He suddenly couldn’t swallow.

Montborne tipped his own glass, but an odd look came into his eyes. A little too similar to Tony’s hollow smile, actually. “To Con’s son. He should be so lucky to enjoy a boyhood like ours.”

Con raised his glass in an attempt to look pleased. After tossing back a mouthful, he felt fortified enough to take the offensive. “How kind. And I appreciate your concern, I really do. I can only imagine how much fun we’d all have with a little one toddling behind us.” Actually, that was the last thing he could picture. “I know this feels a bit sudden, and I haven’t really worked out the details yet, but I think Oliver belongs with Elizabeth. What do I know about little babies?”

He didn’t need to elaborate on that point. That much, at least, had to be obvious. “No, the best thing is to leave him with her, at least until he’s old enough to learn a thing or two from me.” Or until everyone forgot about him, because that would be good, too.

Tony perched his booted foot on an ottoman and leaned his elbow against his thigh. “What would you do with a baby? You’re supposed to raise it. Love it. Bring him up in your image—no, don’t do that. My image. Make him a part of this family. Isn’t it bad enough that you’ve brought him into this world on the wrong side of the blanket? That is to say nothing of what you’ve done to the poor woman herself.”

Montborne collected their empty snifters and returned to the sideboard to pour a second round. “You’ve always been one to see more good in people than exists, Tony. That flaw has worked in my favor, as no one in this family is a bigger muck-up than I. But really, Con marry Elizabeth Spencer? Have you lost your senses completely?”

Tony didn’t flinch. He must be used to the constant pricks at his belief in justice. As the second oldest and heir presumptive, he filled a gap created by a marquis who refused to act like the head of the household. In point of fact, Tony’s