The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,40

wedded from the first. Her belief that he’d leave his wife to start a new life with her had been a stupid hope. She could see that now. She couldn’t even claim to have been young and foolish when she’d devoted herself to him, for she’d been above her majority then, and far more experienced in the ways of seduction than most women twice her age.

No, Celeste was right. She wouldn’t be kept by a married man again. She wasn’t sure she could trust her heart with a bachelor, for she’d had plenty of those in her time, too. And if ever there was a man who did want to marry her—and she didn’t count Con’s hasty proposal in that number—she’d never be able to trust him. For men, in her experience, did not understand the meaning of ’til death do us part.

But she wasn’t the type men married. “I’m a courtesan,” she said firmly, and never had saying it sounded so permanent. “There will always be another man after this one.” If only because she couldn’t bear to be alone forever.

Celeste gazed at her with a touch of sadness. “You may marry someday.” To Elizabeth’s ears, there was no conviction in it.

Trestin cleared his throat. Elizabeth and Celeste both glanced up at him as if they’d forgotten his presence.

“I think it unlikely any Alexander will marry before he must.” He offered her a smile that seemed to tighten his face rather than brighten it. “I hope you’re able to keep his attention long enough for Captain Finn to accept your trick as fact. After that, I suppose it doesn’t matter if Lord Constantine does scamper off to chase a new entertainment, so long as he leaves Oliver with you.”

Icy fear pumped through her veins. He would leave; that much was fact. It was the way of things, the trade she made for her freedom—and her wealth, though not the latter, in this case. But what could she do if they spent months or years convincing Society that he was Oliver’s father, and then he left her and took Oliver with him? Her trick would only work once, and never on Con.

She believed him when he said he was going to be Oliver’s father forever. If he left her, he’d take his son. Just as Nicholas had. She couldn’t let that happen. He mustn’t reach that point, not for a very, very long time, at least. The law favored a father’s guardianship until a child was old enough to make a sound decision between his parents. That day lay a decade in the future, at least.

But what could she do to prevent Con’s more immediate tiring of her?

The answer came to her instantly, as natural to her as her own breath. She’d do what she’d always done. She must entice him. Offering her favors to a man had never kept him permanently, but she didn’t need permanent. Only until Oliver was of the age to make his own decision, and she needn’t fear the law.

But how did she seduce a man who didn’t want to be seduced?

Her talent for tempting men flared to life. Sex was what she knew. It had worked, at least well enough, to get her to this point. As she and Celeste sipped their tea, and Trestin paced near the window, Elizabeth considered her strategy. She must give Lord Constantine the sense that he needed her more than she needed him. She had no doubt she could succeed at luring him into her arms, if the right set of circumstances could be arranged. She was a courtesan, was she not?

She buried her self-disgust down far enough that she need never think of it again. She might not be able to win his heart. If she could just keep him returning to her bed, however…

It would have to be enough.

Chapter Eight

CON KNEW CYPRIANS other than Elizabeth, of course. He frequently tagged along with his brothers to this or that engagement, and he knew most of the expensive ladies of the night by sight, if not by name. But he’d never kept a mistress of his own. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with Elizabeth, aside from visit her after dark from time to time. But would that be enough to divert the gossips? Or ought he to make a larger statement, some flashy show of his claim to her?

Likely not. He needn’t overthink what was required of him.

He left Will’s, his regular coffeehouse, and ducked out