The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,15
moment, please. Until I have my wits and then I will go, I promise.” He didn’t wait for her to agree. The chair squeaked as his weight sank heavily onto it. He still looked a bit green around the gills. “My legs are shaking something violent. Don’t you know, I’ve never proposed to anyone before? I wouldn’t have, but my brothers made me feel like a complete cad about it.”
She crept closer. Her fingers felt around for the back of the sofa. She leaned toward the sturdy frame, a bit shaky herself, and regarded the handsome young man she’d underestimated. Blond hair spiked fashionably about his head. Mussed pieces stood out on one side where he’d run his hand through it. His elbows rested on his knees, his broad shoulders hunched a bit, and a trace of a self-deprecating smile tilted his lips. Even winded-looking, he took up half the room with his presence.
“The thing is,” he continued, giving her a sidelong glance, “Tony thinks I ruined your business that night in the gaming hell. Something about you not being able to find work anymore because I announced you’d been with me when you’d had an agreement with Finn.” He looked sheepish. “Have I said it delicately enough?”
She didn’t need him to tell her that no man wanted an unfaithful mistress, any more than he wanted to risk being made a fool of in front of his friends. But she hadn’t expected Lord Constantine to concern himself with the implications of that. She took a moment to assimilate what she thought she knew about him with what he’d just revealed.
She’d obviously misjudged him. She’d thought him as silly and reckless as his oldest brother, who she knew by association from her years as a Cyprian. She’d imagined Con to be like Roman, but with even less sense of responsibility. An aimless younger son who’d happily divest her of her ten thousand pounds and meander on his merry way. She’d also thought he’d be immune to the subject of lightskirts. But while he hadn’t blinked once at her scheme to paint him as a philanderer, it was clear now that he was a bit more innocent than she’d presumed. He colored pink at having to explain that half of London thought she was not just an expensive bit of muslin, but a fickle slut. Roman would have announced it with a hearty laugh and a wink.
She smoothed her hands over the scroll frame rolling along the backrest of the sofa. “I did ask you to ruin me. You needn’t have worried what that might mean for me later.”
Con stretched his long legs and crossed his ankles under her low table. “I can hardly explain that to Tony now, can I? He thinks I should have been more private about airing our linen. Not much I can say there to defend myself. You asked me to make it as public as possible. We left Finn no choice, but now Tony’s bent because I abandoned you and my supposed babe a day after snatching you from the relative comfort of another man’s care. I’m a real blighter, in my brothers’ opinions.”
Her twinge of conscience surprised her. He was a man. The brother of a peer. Handsome and well-mannered, and still virile enough to be attractive even without a fortune. Scandal would die down for him. But she hadn’t expected his involvement with her to drive a wedge between him and his family. She was so used to being alone that she’d never expected that he might have others in his life who would give a fig to know what he got into. That he cared what they thought of him in return was just as astonishing.
What would have happened if she’d had less presence of mind just a moment ago? If she’d said yes to his absurd proposal? He’d have ruined himself just to satisfy some chivalrous sense of family honor. For it was one thing to get a mistress with child, and another thing altogether to marry her. “I can’t believe you offered for me merely to save face with your brothers. What would you have done had I accepted?”
He shrugged. “Trade one scandal for another, I suppose. Abandoning one’s fiancée at the altar is generally seen to be in bad taste, but I can’t imagine I’d have actually gone through with a wedding.”
Oliver’s cry saved her from having to reply to that delightful admission. Con’s head turned in the direction of