The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,107

time, the heat of the fire kept the chill away, but it couldn’t warm the empty hole in her heart where her betrayal lived. She was as manipulative as Roman had warned. She could barely stand to be alone with herself.

Hours passed after that. Con did not come. She barely dressed herself that morning, and her hair was still crushed to the side of her head where she’d slept fitfully, first on the floor and then on the top of her desk. At three in the afternoon, Mrs. Dalton, who’d returned earlier in the day, scratched at Elizabeth’s door. “Madam, perhaps you’d feel better after a hot bath?”

Elizabeth dragged her attention from the open window where she’d been gazing at the street for any sign of Constantine. “No, thank you, though.”

Mrs. Dalton’s brown eyes were full of concern. “I feel much better after mine. More myself. And Mr. Rand has already called for it to be drawn. It’s no bother for the staff.” When Elizabeth only stared blankly at her, she added, “We’re worried about you, madam.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. She turned her face back to the window quickly, feeling the familiar sting of tears about to fall. With a shaky breath, she murmured, “How kind.”

Mrs. Dalton took several steps into the room. Her hands wrung together. Though she was young, she always carried herself with a mature air Elizabeth relied on. Today she fretted over Elizabeth as an older sister might, dropping to her knees beside Elizabeth’s window seat and resting her hands on the yellow cushion as if in supplication. “Lord Bartholomew seems very capable, and I have faith in Lord Constantine. They will find a way to get him back. I know it.”

Elizabeth’s arms wrapped around her body. Despite her shawl, she was just so cold. “They can’t change the law. It doesn’t even consider me.”

“They’ll find a way. Now, please, let us fuss over you. I promise, you will feel better after a hot bath and some toast.”

Elizabeth couldn’t smile, but she did feel less alone. “Now it’s to be a bath and toast?”

Mrs. Dalton’s lips quivered. “And…you must let me dress your hair.”

By five that afternoon, Elizabeth did feel more herself. But she was nowhere nearer to feeling better about Lord Constantine’s absence from her side. He’d had a long night. He and Lord Bartholomew must talk at length. Then there was his poor mother, who’d been heartbroken by the ordeal. But as the minutes continued to tick by, she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come at all.

At six, there was a flurry downstairs. Elizabeth half-rose from the couch she’d laid claim to since coming down from her bath. When Con’s familiar voice drifted down the hallway, she jumped up, dropping the lace-edged pillow she’d been clutching and setting out at a run. She met him halfway down the hallway and launched herself into his arms. Never had she been so glad to see a man in her life.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his collar. She sagged against him. He caught her weight easily and, murmuring soft nothings into her hair, carried her back to the sitting room she’d flown from. “Elizabeth, Elizabeth,” he said, holding her against him. “You must have known I would come.”

She hadn’t. But she wouldn’t cry, not now that he was here. Nonetheless, it took a moment before she was able to find her voice. “I’m just glad. I’m so very, very sorry. I never thought you’d be…” Her voice choked on the last word. “Arrested.”

His low laughter warmed her hair. “It’s just my luck. A little over a month ago, Parliament passed an Act making it a felony to carry a child away from its lawful parent. Though I think your father and Captain Finn would have found some other way to beleaguer me, even if it hadn’t. Bart suspects that’s what the fraud misdemeanor charge is for, to catch any loophole he might find in the felony.”

She pulled back to see him. His blue eyes were distanced, but he held her in his arms like a cherished woman. If he was angry, he wasn’t showing it. But nor did he seem particularly pleased. “What does Lord Bartholomew advise?” She wished she’d been included! How fitting for her to be barred from plans surrounding the trial concerning her own son.

Con set her away from him just enough to look into her eyes. His jaw set. His long, aquiline nose and