The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,16
the sound. “My word, he has a set of lungs on him, doesn’t he? I don’t think I could make half that noise if I set my mind to it. I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t let me take him to see Mother the other day. I don’t know what I would have done with a squalling infant.”
She stiffened at the reminder of his attempt to “borrow” her child. If he’d really meant to be gone just for the afternoon, she supposed she’d been a bit melodramatic the other day. Still, Oliver wasn’t some pet to be trotted out when Lord Constantine wished to appear responsible in front of his family.
She started for the door, wanting to be away from this man who was a mass of contradictions. “I need to see to my son.”
“Wait.”
She paused and turned. Con’s bright blue eyes watched her intensely. “I didn’t disappoint you, did I?”
Her heartstrings tugged so hard, her heart might burst with longing. She didn’t care that this man had asked her to marry him. She was too practical to think she had any feelings for him after so short an association. But to be married…to have a real family, with a man who loved only her… “I really must see to Oliver.”
Con rose to his feet. The wrinkle between his brows never fully smoothed. He appeared perpetually concerned. “I did disappoint you. I’m sorry.”
Her heart twisted at his unnecessary concern for her. “You didn’t—”
He held his finger to his lips. “You needn’t say it. I have a sixth sense about upsetting people. I’m rather sensitive to it, I fear.” He took a step toward her. “I would like to make this right for you, and not just because you’ve already compensated me. I promise, Elizabeth, I would set it right if I could. It’s just that I’m not cut out to be a husband. It’s not you, it’s me.”
She let out a short bark of laughter. He grinned in return. “Heard that before, have you?”
His perpetual good humor was infectious even if this was no joking matter. She relaxed a fraction. “I never intended to buy a husband, Lord Constantine. I’d always wonder if you’d done it for the money, and that would be an intolerable situation indeed. No, everything is exactly as I meant it to be. I don’t intend to pawn my wares again, so you haven’t wronged me.”
“You’re sure? I haven’t shattered your vision of a fairy tale prince?”
He was watching her skeptically, but she wouldn’t hang her heart on her sleeve for him. He didn’t need to know she secretly longed for the sweeping romantic sort of declaration her best friend had received from her lover just a few months ago. Instead, Elizabeth had received this bumbling half-proposal. It was possibly the only offer she’d ever receive, and it had been butchered completely. Thank you for upholding your end of the bargain.” She owed him at least her gratitude, for all the trouble she’d unwittingly put him through.
“Well, then, I’ll be off,” he said when she continued to watch him mutely. He swept her a courtly bow, then turned on his heel and quit her drawing room. When he must have been near to the foyer, his voice filtered down the hallway, as if he’d just remembered to add, “Please think about that thing with my mother, Elizabeth. It would please her immensely to see Oliver.”
The front door clicked and he was gone. The house seemed silent in his wake. For one, pregnant moment, Elizabeth wished he hadn’t left.
Ridiculous, foolish fancy. But a feeling that nonetheless wouldn’t be brushed aside by logic. As she hurried to the nursery to see to her son, it suddenly came to her why she didn’t want to leave England despite fearing Nicholas’s dogged determination to expose her lie. For just over a decade, she’d tried to prove she was worthy of being loved. She’d left her father’s cold house with a man who’d promised to cherish her forever. Every man after him had been just as willing to prey on her emptiness. Now that she had Oliver, one of her missing pieces was pressed into place. Her hollowness was finally filled by her son. She wasn’t entirely whole, but fulfilled enough that she need never fall victim to another pretty word tripped off a lying tongue.
Or was she? Her yearning to be loved had started her on her path to ruin, and was the reason she would never, ever