The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,45

size considering it was maintained on her annuities. Her income came from arrangements she’d made prior to him, and she was proud to be able to support herself now that she was settled.

The furnishings were largely part of the house lease, though she’d managed to salvage a few of her personal items before Nicholas had tossed her completely on her ear. The painting was one. The brightly colored pillows Constantine considered pensively were another.

He picked up one overstuffed ultramarine-colored pillow and gave it a squeeze. “I wouldn’t call these subdued, either. You’re not one for dull colors, I gather.”

“What color are your cushions, my lord?” She meant it teasingly, for this inane topic couldn’t possibly be interesting to him. Nonetheless, he was right. The bland hue of the townhouse interior drove her mad.

He set the bolster down and lifted a brilliant, poppy-colored one in its stead. “This one is pleasing, though I can’t say I would have chosen it myself. Then again, I’m sure I’ve never been asked for my opinion. Montborne is the one with a head for fabrics. Montborne and Darius,” he amended. “Darius finds it all too easy to spend money that isn’t his.”

Elizabeth watched him from beneath her lashes as he stared blindly at the bright red pillow. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Lord Darius,” she said, though she did know of him. No one was quite sure why the youngest Alexander would destroy himself in the image of their father, but that didn’t keep the ton from speculating.

“I’m surprised you haven’t. He fancies himself a ladies’ man, in addition to his predilection for the tables. And horses.” Con sighed. “I fear he’s as lost as our father was.” His eyes went wide, and his cheeks hollowed as his mouth formed a horrified O. “Never tell anyone I said so. God, I can’t believe I—” He turned slowly and seated himself, still clutching the poppy pillow. “I should never have thought such a thing, let alone said it aloud. He’s not so far gone that he can’t return.”

His love for his brother, a damaged fellow with little to recommend him, softened her heart. She waited a moment before walking toward him. If she went to him too quickly, she’d lose her appearance of detachment. More than anything, she didn’t want him to know how much his suffering affected her. She didn’t doubt he’d reject her pity and find her concern suffocating.

But if she kept herself apart from him long enough…

His shoulders hunched ever so slightly. He sat like that a moment before his blue eyes sought hers and the worry between his brow smoothed. His chin lifted.

There. This. It was his decision to find her, or so he thought. She may have distanced him with her first attempt to lure him, but she hadn’t lost her touch completely. She’d simply needed to step away. A simple tactic she’d used often enough. Her instinct to bring a man around had been a part of her for as long as she could remember…long before she’d made a fool of herself chasing Nicholas.

She didn’t have to be proud of her methods. Just successful.

She chuckled soothingly. “Plenty of good men are gambling men. I count Lord de Winter among my friends, and heaven knows he hasn’t a shilling that’s not owed.”

Lord Constantine scowled. “Darius is not good.” Then he looked staggered again. “I suppose I have certain feelings about my brother that I never realized. I hope I haven’t given you reason to think I want anything but the best for him.”

“We cannot always get on with our siblings, my lord. I have three, myself.” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Though I fear I was the one driving them to distraction.”

“Were you?” His brow smoothed a fraction.

It was her turn to be astonished. She’d never spoken of Sarah and Ellen and her brother Oliver to a lover. To anyone besides Celeste, in fact. She brushed her fingertips across his shoulder, suddenly filled with a sweet sense of longing. Even when he was huddled over, his muscles cut a fine form against his pale shirtsleeves.

She’d not exaggerated earlier, even if she’d misconstrued the truth a little. She was a woman of passion, who enjoyed the feel of a man beneath her hands.

But she didn’t dawdle with her touch. Not tonight. After that quick reassurance he wasn’t alone, she turned and went to the bellpull. It did her no good to have Lord Constantine blue-deviled the entire evening.