The Problem with Seduction (27 page)

“They’re not married,” a voice boomed behind them, “and if you buy that they are, well, I’ve got a stud horse to show you.”

Papa.
Ice ran through Elizabeth’s veins. She whipped toward the unmistakable sound of his voice. Her cheeks turned hot.
How could he mortify her like this? And in front of Lord Constantine?

She felt like a fourteen-year-old child again. “Papa! You’ve no right!”

He marched up to her, arms swinging and side-whiskers quivering. His oblong belly protruded before him. “I’ll talk to you any blasted way I want, girl. You made your bed and you can damn well lie in it, but you won’t do it here. I won’t have your mother humiliated. Get out.”

Her mother? What about what he was doing to
her
?

She was a bug squashed beneath her father’s shoe. If she’d been asked to surmise how he’d treat her should they encounter one another in public, she’d have laid money on his ignoring her. She never imagined him making a public scene, even if it was just with the innkeeper to hear, a person he no doubt felt was below his notice.

“My lord,” the distressed innkeeper said, unaware of his lowly status in her father’s eyes, “the gentleman says they
are
married. Is it possible it happened recently and you are unaware of it?”

Wyndham didn’t dignify the man with a glance. “No. These two are liars. If they aren’t removed in the next five minutes, Lady Wyndham and I will find a more respectable establishment. You have my word.”

Constantine took a daring step toward her father. “Another accusation like that and it will be pistols. I hope you’re a fair shot.”

“Oh, ho,” Wyndham replied with a short bark of laughter, “the city boy’s going to play target practice with me? I think not.” He regarded Constantine with repugnance.

The harried innkeeper looked from Elizabeth to Constantine. His beseeching expression left her in no doubt he wanted them to leave, before he lost the coveted patronage of the Earl of Wyndham. Her own father.

Shame filled her.
This
was the life she’d made for herself. Lord Constantine believed her to be a conniving whore, even if he was defending her now. Her own father was willing to put her and his grandson out on the street. Her mother would be
humiliated
to share a roof with her in public.

If she’d been alone, she might have shed tears for the many ways her life had not turned out the way she’d dreamed. The costly jewels, and men, and vaults bloated with money, every whim she’d ever had acted on, had all brought her to this.

But she
wasn’t
alone. Instead of sad, she was furious. The opportunity to turn her fury on the man who’d always made her feel inferior was too great a temptation to resist. “If it’s so offensive to share a roof with me, then
you
go. I’ll gladly pay your room and board, and the thirty quid you’re about to drop on whisky and pickled eggs. It’s no hardship for me.”

His already ruddy cheeks flamed bright red. “Don’t you
dare
insult me with your
whore’s salary.
And you!” He turned his wrath on Lord Constantine. “I warned you to stay out of this. I don’t know what kind of pathetic, impecunious wastrel is willing to perjure himself for a prostitute,” spittle flicked from his lips as he laid each charge bare, “but mark my words, you will not get away with it.”

Con glared down his long, patrician nose at her father. His hand flexed, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might plant Wyndham a facer. Then he shook his head sadly. “What I would do for my son is a thousand times the level of humanity you’ve shown your daughter. I’ll thank you to stay out of my affairs.”

The innkeeper’s head swiveled toward her father, as if to witness his reaction to this scathing setdown.

“I hope you’re ready to give that pretty speech to a jury of your peers.” Lord Wyndham leaned toward Con, one arm bent at the elbow. “I don’t think they’ll be as forgiving as Captain Finn has been.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. Wordlessly, she and Con locked gazes. To her surprise, he didn’t look angry, or even scared. He looked resolved. “I’ve done no wrong.”

Wyndham let out an exasperated sigh. Then he turned on his heel. “Clean out my rooms,” he called over his shoulder. “Lady Wyndham and I are no longer comfortable here. As for the both of you,” he paused in the doorway of the common room to ensure they heard his parting words clearly, “I wouldn’t recommend getting too comfortable with that boy.”

Chapter Fifteen

THE INNKEEPER SCURRIED OFF to see to her father’s orders.

“Elizabeth?” she heard Lord Constantine ask when they were alone. His gentle voice filtered through the numbness.
Her own father was going to make sure Nicholas won.
His promise almost certainly guaranteed she’d already lost her son, for she had no defense in a court of law without Lord Constantine’s testimony.

Con was barely willing to lie to his family. He’d never extend his lie all the way to the bar. She couldn’t even ask him to.

Fear plunged straight into her heart. This was it, then. A few more months and she’d be completely bereft.

“What are you going to do?” Con asked gently.

“What
can
I do?”

He reached out and traced the line of her jaw. “You could run.”

She shivered and turned away.

Fabric rustled as he moved toward her again. He stopped far enough away that he didn’t suffocate her with his nearness, yet his presence made her feel supported. “Didn’t I interrupt you doing just that?” he teased.

He wanted her to smile, but she couldn’t. Lightheartedness simply wasn’t in her. “If I am always looking over my shoulder, terrified Finn will pop out from behind every bush, what kind of life is that for Oliver?” Her body quaked with a shuddering sigh. “There is no hope at all, is there?”

With one step, Con moved to her elbow. “But you can’t lose Oliver to him!”

“No I…I can’t.” Her voice grew stronger. “I
can’t
let him take him. I
won’t
sit back quietly. I just haven’t thought how to fight him. I have no rights. None. It will be my word against his. My word is worth
nothing.
”

“Our word.”

She looked at Con. His blue eyes watched her so fervently, she felt a tug of longing. She yearned for the man who’d come to understand her so well, and who gave her courage just by being here.

His lips pursed slightly, matching the wrinkle at his brow. Then he touched her shoulder. Firmly, but not forcefully, he directed her to come toward him. “Your father is a schoolyard tyrant. Don’t let him frighten you. He may be an earl, but my brother is a marquis. We
do
have ammunition in this fight.”

Gratitude welled in her chest. “Do you think Roman would help me?”

Con’s expression shuttered so briefly, she might have mistaken it. Then he smiled handsomely. His finger reached out again and, with tip of his glove, he wiped away a single teardrop from the corner of her eye. “Leave my brother to me.”

He took a step closer. Her gratitude took on a new feeling. Awareness. Did he feel it, too?

His arms opened wide. Without warning, he enveloped her in them. “I have never seen anyone more in need of a hug,” he murmured against her hair.

Stunned, she could do nothing but stand stiffly. Pressed against his chest, with her arms squashed against her corset and her cheek turned to one side, she waited awkwardly for him to finish. Why was he hugging her when she was sure he’d been about to—

“I’m not going to kiss you.” His warm breath tickled her hair.

“Why not?” The side of her mouth moved against his coat. The soft wool smelled like him.

The weight of his arms settled against her shoulders. His palms ran down her spine and pulled her even tighter against him. “You sound disappointed.”

“I wouldn’t
mind
if you kissed me. But I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m disappointed.” She tried to sound haughty, but he only laughed. It rumbled through his chest.

He rested his chin against the top of her head. “You smell good.”

Her cheeks heated. “I was thinking the same about you.”

“Oh? And what do I smell like? Dust and spilled milk, I imagine.”

She smiled against his coat. He did smell a bit like Oliver. “It’s nice.”

“I’m glad you think so. Now I know whether or not babies should be bounced while traveling in carriages.”

She relaxed gradually into his embrace. It was odd. She’d allowed herself to be drawn into all manner of illicit activity within a few feet of potential witnesses, but nothing had ever made her feel as exposed as Lord Constantine’s chaste hug did. What if another patron were to walk around the corner?

“Don’t go.” His arms tightened, holding her against him. “Just a moment longer.”

Her heart melted for this man who liked babies and hugging and, for some reason, her. Bit by bit, she worked her hands around his waist and clasped them at his back. He’d done so much for her. If all he asked for was a few minutes’ embrace in return…

Who was she fooling? This felt wonderful.

She forced herself to maintain the pureness of his embrace. The side of her face rested against his chest. The rise and fall of his breathing and the heady scent of him lulled her. She nestled her way even deeper into his arms, until their bodies pressed from thighs to shoulders. A contented sigh passed her lips.

Then, to her shock, she felt his length harden against her belly.

The entryway went so silent, the noise of the patrons dining in the next room filtered through the wall, and the thump of upstairs feet moving through the building tramped above them. This interlude was different from every other one of their encounters. He wasn’t looking to punish her. She wasn’t trying to seduce him.

All of the yearning she’d been denying herself broke free.
This
was the man she’d been dreaming of since she was a little girl. The kind one. The handsome one. The charming one. The one who would save her from her father…and maybe even herself.

Con pulled away just enough to gaze at her with heavy-lidded eyes. Then his mouth crushed down over hers. Hunger, desire and the endless waiting. All freed at last. She drove her arms around his body and clung to him. Savored the soft, yet urgent feel of his lips against hers. The sure strength of his arms and shoulders and his slight gasps as he struggled to kiss her senseless and keep breathing at the same time. The insistent, throbbing length of him against her—

“My lord,” a man said behind them, “I…”

At the intrusion of the innkeeper’s voice, they jumped apart. Her lips felt bruised. Her breasts swelled against the lace-edged neckline of her gown. In a bid for decency and a chance to collect herself, she turned away from the innkeeper as he came around the corner.

Lord Constantine had no such luxury. She must hope the entryway was dark enough to conceal any protruding evidence of their encounter.

She rested her hand against her heaving bosom and tried to untangle her thoughts while Con saw to the innkeeper’s questions.
This shouldn’t have happened.
Once, she’d stayed up nights planning her seduction of him. She’d wanted to have Lord Constantine eating out of her hand. What they’d just done was nothing like that. She tingled where his arms had embraced her. The hug that came naturally to him was foreign to her. And his kiss… That wasn’t simple passion. It wasn’t pity. It was two people who were slowly coming to need…

This.

Con swept her back into his arms as the innkeeper’s steps faded down the hall. He kissed her neck with light, tickling nips against her skin. Then he brought his lips down on hers with one whispered word, “Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth.

“Your father can’t reach you,” he murmured against her hair. “Please, Elizabeth. Let me keep the demons away.”

His proposition tugged at her heart, dragging her another foot closer to a dangerous place. Truthfully, her father’s threat had been the last thing on her mind. Con’s offer underscored his character.
He reassured.
He was the type to cajole a sad friend into cheer, or hold a fragile, disconsolate woman.

He was the opposite of her father. Her heart broke to know Wyndham hated her just as much as he always had. But she also felt as though a huge weight had been lifted. Lord Constantine had witnessed her father’s unequivocal hatred of her and still wanted her. He kissed her and caressed her as if she were the only woman
he’d
ever wanted. As if she were the most valuable woman in the world to him.

“Please,” he brushed his lips against hers in entreaty, “don’t make me sleep alone tonight.”

Her heart ached.
Alone.
They didn’t have to be alone. “Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes and tilting her face to meet his kiss. “I want you to hold me.”

He pulled back suddenly and stared at her with a frightening intensity. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged. The narrow downstairs doors blurred as he led her to the stairs. Her heart thumped as they ascended. Her senses heightened. By the time they reached his room and he swung open the door, revealing a bed, table and wooden chair, she felt ready to swoon. Then he turned her in his arms, kicked the door closed and kissed her again, and she knew…she would never be able to lose him after tonight.