The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,97

dogs and wield sticks that had become swords and rifles in their imaginations.

But it was one particular woman sitting alone on a bench that made Elizabeth look twice. Before she could retreat, the woman turned her head.

In all of Elizabeth’s time as Nicholas’s mistress, she’d never come face-to-face with his wife before. But the way the air crackled with tension, it was evident neither of them required an introduction.

She could turn around and walk away. Not forcing an encounter with his wife was the polite thing to do. Or she could continue past at a hurried pace—an equally plausible choice. Her decision was dependent on whether she wanted to risk crossing paths with Mrs. Finn again.

She could imagine no scenario in which she’d ever want to exchange pleasantries with the woman. Touching Mrs. Dalton’s elbow, she silently communicated the need to turn about. As they did, Mrs. Finn called to their backs, “Wait! Please, may I see him?”

Elizabeth hesitated. The angst in Mrs. Finn’s voice spoke directly to her own heart.

“Please, I won’t harm him. I merely want to…I need to look.”

Elizabeth couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear Mrs. Finn’s torment. Nor did she pretend to understand it. But she pitied the woman she’d wronged for so many years. She gave a slight nod to Mrs. Dalton and the two of them slowly turned back to Mrs. Finn.

Mrs. Finn’s fragile-looking smile made Elizabeth feel all the worse for even considering walking away. She was a pretty woman, mayhap a decade or so older than Elizabeth, but still trim of figure. Intelligence sparked in her eyes. What if she hadn’t meant to marry a philanderer? Or worse, what if she loved her husband?

These types of questions—this sense of shame—was precisely why mistresses generally avoided their protectors’ wives. Elizabeth smiled ruefully at herself. Well, Mrs. Finn had called out to her, hadn’t she?

Elizabeth and Mrs. Dalton stopped just short of the bench. Mrs. Finn rose. She barely caught Elizabeth’s eye before turning her attention to Oliver. Then her face lit up with wonder. “He looks just like him.”

The pronouncement dropped into the pit of Elizabeth’s belly like a rock. “Like Lord Constantine, you mean?”

Mrs. Finn shot her an exasperated look. “My husband is beside himself. This is so clearly his son, I can see why.” She touched the tip of her finger against the fine hairs at Oliver’s temple. “Despite my pleading, he never brought him home, choosing instead to have one of his…” She cringed. “It doesn’t bear explaining.”

Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. In all the time she’d cursed Nicholas for taking her baby to be raised by another courtesan, she’d never considered that he might have taken her son back to his wife. How much more unbearable would it have been to know Nicholas and his wife were forming a happy family with her son?

At least he’d spared her that.

“A terrible thing has happened here,” Mrs. Finn continued, “and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. All I hear is his plotting to get the boy back, and a few choice names for you.”

Elizabeth let out a nervous laugh. “Oh?”

Mrs. Finn looked at her this time. “A sailor never runs out of foul words, I fear. I believe I could swear you into your grave. But I think I understand why you’re doing this to him. Motherhood…” She swallowed thickly. Her eyes fell to Oliver, who reached for the ribbon tying her bonnet on. “Is it beyond compare?”

The sincerity in her voice betrayed sadness so deep, Elizabeth’s contrition overwhelmed her. Was it not enough to have stolen Mrs. Finn’s husband from her bed? Had Elizabeth had to carry his son, too? And then drag the poor woman through the public details of a very messy separation, filled with lies and name-calling? All because Elizabeth had been too selfish to stay away from a married man.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said quietly. “So deeply, deeply sorry. Yes, it is more than I ever imagined it could be.”

Mrs. Finn sighed. “I may be sheltered compared to you, but I know it takes two to make these things happen. I only wish I might have conceived before he…” She smiled softly. “There’s no sense in being indiscreet, even if you’ve no doubt heard much worse.”

She caressed Oliver’s dark head. “May I…?”

“Certainly.” Elizabeth indicated to Mrs. Dalton to let Mrs. Finn hold Oliver. Not long ago, an encounter such as this would have sent her into a panic. She might have been inclined to snub Mrs. Finn, or worse.