The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,9
simply couldn’t be won.
Thus divested of his outerwear, he sneaked past the front rooms, as he’d done since he was a youth. The problem with having four brothers—one of the problems with having four brothers—was the absolute lack of privacy. One would think that a household of males would find each in his own corner, brooding or what-have-you, a glass of brandy in hand, improving his mind in the library, or whiling away the hours playing a solo game of billiards.
He knew better. Four brothers, three older and one eleven minutes younger, meant four men vying to lord over him. A total of five men in the house who each believed they knew what was best for the family. It meant living with four other men whose pride must be protected, or at least considered. It meant being taken to task daily by opinionated fellows who cared more about his goings-on than he did.
He made it to the kitchen without being detected and rifled through the covered dishes in the pantry until he located a hunk of bread and a mug of lemonade. He paused at the table to eat it. Mistake. He heard the footfalls before Tony appeared in the doorway, but it was too late. He was trapped.
Though his older brothers Antony and Bart were also identical twins, from their curling brown hair to their blue eyes and broad-shouldered, military bearing, Con could easily tell them apart. Tony was the one with the stick farthest up his ass. “It’s been a week,” Tony said without preamble.
Con didn’t have to feign bemusement. With Tony, one never knew what he’d done wrong this time. “Since?”
Tony crossed his arms over his chest and proceeded to frown. “It’s worse than I thought if you don’t even remember you have a son now.”
Ah, that. “These things happen,” he replied, taking a drink of lemonade. It should have been something stronger for this conversation. He was up to his elbows in a lie that was beginning to feel like quicksand. What could he do about it?
Tony entered the kitchen with the same sense of purpose he used to take his seat as a Member of Parliament or to approach the water closet. “No, they don’t. Not to us. You’re almost thirty years of age. What possessed you to be so—so stupid?”
Ten thousand pounds, to be precise. But then he’d have to admit to his older brother that he’d been pennies away from ending up in the gaol, again, and that didn’t seem like a true improvement on this conversation. “She’s very pretty,” he said instead, taking another draught. He couldn’t keep his eyes from flicking to the pantry. Would there be sherry in there, or even a cheap bottle of wine? Not that he was one for over-imbibing, but this little tête-à-tête wasn’t going to end well, he could tell.
“Elizabeth Spencer is the daughter of an earl. A lady.” Tony’s blue eyes held steadily, as though he could burn his point into Con’s brain by sheer will.
Con squirmed. “She’s a courtesan.”
Tony’s stare deepened. “And how can you afford a courtesan?”
Con contained a grimace. That was an obvious question he had no answer for. “Not a ‘courtesan’ as in I paid for her services, but I mean she’s good for a tumble or two when she’s feeling blue-deviled, so I don’t see why it matters if her father is an earl.” Blast, that didn’t make him sound heroic, did it?
Tony indicated the breadcrumbs and empty mug with a flick of his gaze. “Let’s go to the library.”
“I’m happy here, thank you for asking.”
Tony ignored his cheek. “We need to discuss this as a family. Or do you not consider your son a family matter?”
Lord, he hated Tony’s superciliousness. What was worse was that he hadn’t actually done anything wrong this time…at least not with respect to fathering an illegitimate child. He did possess some scruples.
Not that he could explain that without also explaining he’d lived up to their low expectations of him, again. He’d done this to himself, again. Just thinking about the sum of money he’d owed was enough to cause his forehead to go damp and his stomach to twist. He’d been right on the edge of the clink. Exactly where his older brothers expected him to be.
Not to mention that he’d promised her that he’d never tell. “Must you back me into a corner like that?” he grumbled. “You know I’m cursed if I agree with you and cursed if I don’t.”