The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,114

ceremony at St. James’s Park, witnessed by Con’s immediate family.

She gripped his hand. Dash it, she tried, but she couldn’t keep her lips from pressing into a thin, scared line. He believed he was going to die.

She nodded her assent. He grinned back at her, as if she were the blushing, excited bride he wanted to see. “Very good. I’ll let Bart know. He’s making the arrangements.”

She was suddenly drawn into the welcome tedium of marriage preparation, rather than thoughts of her new husband dying before her eyes. “Did you get the license?”

The shadow passed over Con’s face again. He had thus far been almost eerily good at pretending he wasn’t suffering, but now he looked stunned, like he was reliving facing his attackers in the alley. “I didn’t, but Bart browbeat Darius into fetching it for me. Highly unethical and possibly even illegal, but at this point, I’d say that’s the least of my concerns.” He flashed her another rakish grin intended to steal her heart and distract her from the seriousness of his health.

She smiled back faintly.

She stayed with him awhile longer, until he began to doze. Then she escaped into a powder room where she let her tears fall. In a few days Con might be dead. How could she bear to lose him? How would she live knowing she’d deceived him in a way that made it possible for him to die?

When she was spent, she wiped her eyes and splashed cool water on her face. Then she returned to his room. She needed to see again that he was not at death’s door. The moment she entered his room, however, she perceived a change in the atmosphere. Had the room smelled like this before? A sickly, sweet stench of perspiration and clean linens and laudanum?

Con moaned. She went to the bed, her footfalls heavy with dread. No. She couldn’t have been gone that long!

She turned and raced from the room. “Lord Bart! Lady Montborne!” Someone, anyone who could help her. She was terrified to be alone. “Please,” she said, stopping a passing servant, “fetch your mistress.”

Lady Montborne appeared in a nearby doorway. “What is it?” But she was already hurrying to Con’s room. “I shouldn’t have left him,” Elizabeth heard her say.

She shouldn’t have, either. She should have called for someone else to sit with him while she’d collected herself in the powder room. It was too late to change it but not too late for her to feel responsible. If he died…

She followed Lady Montborne but stopped in the doorway. Lady Montborne was feeling Con’s face and neck. Tears were in her eyes, but she otherwise maintained her composure. “Elizabeth, find Lord Bart and have him fetch the doctor. Constantine’s fever has worsened.”

He moaned again and kicked his legs under the covers. “Cold,” he whispered. Elizabeth exhaled sharply. He could still speak! Surely that was a good sign.

After exchanging a worried glance with his mother, she went to fetch more blankets and Lord Bart. Having tasks kept her occupied. When she returned, Lady Montborne had pulled a second chair to Con’s right side. The gesture touched Elizabeth. They would watch over him together. She felt a sudden burst of love for a woman who’d shown her nothing but kindness, despite all of the reasons she might have shunned Elizabeth instead.

The doctor came. The doctor went. Darkness was kept at bay by a brace of candles. Elizabeth sat unmoving beside his bed, hating her inaction. Her entire future hung in the balance. Could she think of nothing to do that would help?

Con’s mother slowly slumped in sleep against the wingback of her chair, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts. There were so many things she might have done differently in her life. But the one thing she knew she would never regret was marrying Constantine.

He must live to the wedding.

And then, she would tell him about the quarry, wouldn’t she? They’d be man and wife. He needed to know.

Her belly tightened. She couldn’t escape the uncertainty of Lord Bart’s reaction. Con would forgive her, but how would Lord Bart feel? Or the rest of his family? What if he refused to represent Con in a way that would sway the jury’s heart toward returning Oliver?

She remained by Con’s side all through the night as he battled the fever. Several times, she and Lady Montborne worked together to change his damp bedding and bathe his face and neck in cool water. He became delirious, but it