The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,101
the room black. Oh God, oh, God, oh God. He couldn’t go back to the gaol. What was happening here?
A blood-curling shriek sounded from upstairs, followed by the breaking wail of a baby’s cry. Con’s heart plummeted even as his entire body bristled for a fight. Elizabeth. He had no idea why she was here, but he knew those sounds were hers and Oliver’s. It felt as if his stomach were being ripped from his belly. He took a step toward the baby’s wails, but the lackeys at his sides quickly caught his arms in viselike grips. Momentum carried him forward another foot and he almost fell on his face. Then he started struggling in earnest, but it was no use. There was nowhere to go.
The officer who’d charged him shook his head. “We’re not taking the woman, don’t worry. But the baby has to be returned to his father.” For the first time, he looked resigned. “We’re just here to enforce the law.”
“I’m the father!” Con yelled. He jerked his arms again, but the men must have expected it.
“Oh, Con,” his mother whispered. Tears ran down her face. “Con, please tell me they’re wrong.”
He glared at each of the men crowding his entryway. “I’m the father,” he said again. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on my son.”
The constable didn’t flinch, but Con thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy. Still, in a commanding voice, he gave the orders to take Con out to the carriage. “If you don’t come quietly,” he added, “your mother will have a far more unpleasant scene to witness.”
Con looked at her. Then he thought of Darius, and Elizabeth, and Bart and Roman and Antony. His family, whom he couldn’t help now. Maybe not even in the future. Oh, God. What was the punishment for child stealing? Was that even a crime?
He couldn’t think of it now. First he had to spare his mother any more of his shame. As the officers led him back into the dirty streets, he turned and looked up, hoping to see his mother there at the top of the stairs. She was.
“Send Bart,” he directed her. She nodded mutely.
The lead officer opened the carriage door. He got in. The two others waited for Con to do the same. He paused and turned back. His mother was still there, but the fourth officer was now headed toward the carriage with Oliver in his arms. Con bit back the urge to shout at the man to leave his son alone, to rail at the injustice of tearing Oliver from Elizabeth and at his own ineptness at keeping the child safe. Instead, he had one last thing to say to the woman standing on the stairs, her eyes full of disappointment and misery. “I’m sorry, Mother.” Even at this distance, he saw a tear trickle down her cheek. “Please tell Elizabeth I’m sorry, too.”
Chapter Nineteen
IT WAS ALL TOO SIMILAR to the last time. She couldn’t even drag herself from the floor, where she’d crumpled just as the tips of her fingers had slid away from Oliver’s gown. They’d had to wrest him from her. She’d had no chance against them. Not a one. She sobbed quietly against her forearm, feeling the scratch of the carpet beneath her and hearing the muffled voices of Con’s family as they tried to make sense of it. What she’d done to their son. Her remorse knew no bounds, and her grief overwhelmed her. Without Oliver, she had nothing. And Con…
He’d been arrested. Because of her. If there’d been any hope for them before, it was well and crushed now.
She had no idea how long she cried. Her recollection blurred when it came to identifying precisely who came to see to her, though she vaguely recalled several attempts to bring her up from the floor. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. One minute she’d been feeding her son, shocked by the passage of time while she and Lady Montborne had played with the baby, and the next, there’d been a frightening pounding on the door. The hours after that swam together.
A firm voice penetrated her haze. Had she fallen asleep? She was exhausted, mentally and physically. Too exhausted to heed the orders being barked at her.
“Get up,” the unfamiliar voice said. It was unforgiving. Not that she deserved forgiveness. She’d lost her baby… Oh, God, her baby…