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Her body felt languid and unfamiliar as it cam
e down from the stunning pleasures. Lucan slowly lowered her dress and petticoats, resting his forehead against her quivering stomach. Minutes passed in silence, and he remained kneeled before her, head rested against her, not speaking or moving.
She knew without a doubt whatever he said next would determine the course of her future with him. She could feel him thinking, fighting with whatever demons were pushing him away from her. Her heart went calm and she simply waited until he was ready, hoping he would confide in her about his sister and whatever he thought Sebastian had done. The intimacy of the moment did not escape her, and it somehow felt more intimate than the pleasure he had just bestowed upon her. A log rolled in the fireplace, and his fingers tightened against her hips. He pressed the softest of kiss against her stomach and then lifted his head. Her heart slammed into her throat. His features were set in dark foreboding lines.
“I do feel something fierce for you, and I would be more than a coward to not admit it. I want to be with you when you are not here. I look for your smiles in the simplest of actions. Am I falling in love? I do not know… I only know there are times I hunger for your presence if only to converse. I desire you more each time I see you. But your brother is my enemy, and that will never change. He ruined my sister, hurt her unimaginably, and then abandoned her. I cannot see you again, Lady Constance, nor will you be admitted to Decadence again for you make me doubt my path, and it is a path I will not be swayed from.”
Pain sliced through her, but she was careful not to show her emotions. The man that touched her with such passion, introduced her to pleasure, was a man that wanted her, needed her even, and she would concentrate on those feelings. She shifted onto the sofa, shimmying lower so she slid against his chest until she kneeled with him. Leaning back and tilting her head, she held his gaze, and surprise flared through his at her actions.
“Tell me that you can bear the thought of never speaking with me or kissing me again, and I will walk away and leave you with your vengeance.”
His throat convulsed, but he did not speak. Her pulse fluttered wildly when he dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. He shifted, kissed her hair, and Constance smiled. He could not say it. She understood, for he was firmly rooted in her heart and the thought of not exploring the growing need between them was unbearable.
“I can see you are not ready to tell me of your sister. I hope one day I will have your trust and you will unburden to me, Lucan,” she whispered. He stiffened, but she continued. “I know Sebastian would never harm anyone. I—”
“No,” the raw force of Lucan’s denial halted her. He continued his voice icy. “I will not hear of Calydon’s innocence from you, when I know his guilt. It is time for you to leave, Constance.”
Lucan rose to his feet with fluid grace and held out his hand helping her to stand. He rang the bell and instantly the door opened and the butler entered.
“You will be escorted to the side entrance so you are not seen. Be careful not to speak with anyone,” he murmured, expression shuttered.
“Until I see you again, Lucan.” She walked away, refusing to look back. He could not deny his passion for her, and she would wait for him to come to her. Certainly not forever, but she would give him enough time to realize the feelings he had for her would not simply vanish.
“Constance.” Her name was just a whisper of sound but she heard it. She spun toward the door, and probed for Lucan in the soft shadows of the library.
“Marissa Alicia Wynwood.”
Marissa. Constance hesitated, unsure if she should thank him for trusting her with this much. She knew it was his sister’s name. But Constance did not know if she should feel glad that he shared a little more of himself, or fear that him revealing her name was part of some plan. Without speaking, she swept from the hall with hurried steps, very aware of the tender ache between her legs. Charlotte waited at the end of the hall looking a bit flushed and rumpled with Marcus Stone by her side, and Constance smiled in reassurance at Charlotte’s worried frown. The hope in Constance’s heart was heavy for she knew Lucan yearned for her with a similar intensity.
Now she only needed him to realize the love burgeoning between them was more worthy than vengeance.
Chapter Thirteen
The scandal that swept through town was the most exciting and satisfying society had ever heard, or at least it seemed that way to Constance. The Beautiful Bastard had been seen kissing the Lord of Sin, and at the club Decadence itself. It had been two days since the rumor, or better, the truth exploded. But a very strange truth for she knew no one could have possibly seen them enclosed in Lucan’s office. Everyone in society was curious, for the Duke of Mondvale had not responded to the rumors, and there was certainly no news of an engagement published.
She had been puzzled when Charlotte handed over the paper she had been reading, her face white. Constance had scanned it quickly and right underneath the arts section in The Spectator, was a tattle on her. She had almost fainted. She could easily imagine the glee the hypocrites of the haute monde had expressed, sitting over their breakfast and reading of her latest sinful escapade. Constance could hardly credit it that someone had seen them. She had been in a mask and a wig and all kisses had been in private.
She had ridden out with her mother the morning after Charlotte had shared the scandal sheet. Constance had then understood the depth of her foolishness and what complete ruination meant. Several ladies that normally waved to her mother had given them both the cut direct. She had then been forced to reveal to her mother what had been published for all of London to see. Lady Radcliffe had swayed. Her mother had demanded to read the damming article herself.
Mrs. X has it on the highest authority that The Beautiful Bastard, Lady Constance, was seen kissing the Lord of Sin, Duke of Mondvale, at his club, Decadence. Most alarming to be sure, but not so unexpected. Mrs. X confirms that the Duke Mondvale has been seen with Lady Constance at Covent Garden and Hyde Park and wondered if a courtship had been going on.
Her mother had gone white.
“Is this true, Connie?” had been the only question her mother had asked, and Constance’s silence had been telling.
Her mother had walked away and the disappointment in her posture had pierced Constance. She had waited in dread and hope for Lucan to make an appearance at their town house, but his absence was very revealing. He really had no intention of calling on her despite the fact they had been seen.
Had he really decided his vengeance was more important? Tears burned behind her lids. How she wished he’d confided in her. She had spent the past couple of nights restless, wondering what had happened between his sister and Sebastian. How had she been driven to her death? Whatever occurred had been tragic enough where Lucan had planned to compromise Constance deliberately to hurt her brother. Though now it seems Lucan may be granted his wish, whether he had changed his mind or not. For if before she had been accorded any civility by the haute monde it would all be gone now. She was soiled, a wanton harlot the mammas would be protecting their daughters and sons from.
She laid her violin down on its stand as she heard the commotion from the hallway. She took a few calming breaths shoring up her courage. Her family had arrived. Sebastian and Jocelyn, Anthony and Phillipa. Her mother had summoned them to town and Constance had waited with a sick sense of fright for them to arrive.
She heard her parents’ soft greeting and strained to hear her brothers’ reply. Constance heard nothing. The door was swung open and Jocelyn barreled in, dressed in a dark yellow carriage dress, with her dark hair coiffed in an elegant chignon. She moved with energy despite her pregnant state and rushed over to Constance.
“Oh, Connie, I traveled up as soon as I heard. That wretched man,” Jocelyn burst out, hugging her. Constance returned her embrace, her eyes prickling with tears. She looked over Jocelyn’s head at the closed expression of both her brothers’ faces. Phillipa was attired very casually in a purple walking dress with a hat perched jauntily on her head. She gave
Constance an encouraging smile and walked over to her.
“Forgive me for being a watering pot.” Jocelyn released her with a sniff. “I fear I have become somewhat emotional since the baby.”
Constance hugged Phillipa briefly and everyone sat gathered in the parlor while her mother rang for tea. Mild pleasantries were exchanged but the air itself was fraught with tension. Constance did not fail to notice that her brothers had yet to say anything. She could feel their anger, even though they did nothing overt to show it. Their wives led the entire conversation and it was all about the mundane, though both Phillipa and Jocelyn wore the look of happily married women—certainly a rarity among the haute monde.
Mrs. Pritchard announced luncheon a few minutes later. With great reluctance, Constance entered the dining room. Her mother dismissed the footmen after they had been served. Constance waited with her stomach in knots. She knew they only gathered for one thing—to discuss the implications of her actions.
Her father wasted no time. “You know why we are all here, Connie. It is unpleasant business, but it must be dealt with. Your mother and I spoke at length and the decision we have made is that you must marry right away. Lord Litchfield will be calling on you tomorrow. I trust you will know what to do with his offer.”
Constance took a few sips of her wine, her mind churning for a solution. It was as she feared. She shot Sebastian and Anthony a pleading look. She knew Sebastian would not fight with her father over his decision, but he was her guardian by law, not her mother’s husband.
“The man who compromised her will be doing the marrying, Radcliffe,” Sebastian interposed softly, but she could hear the implacable steel in his voice.
“I am marrying no one.” The words slipped from Constance’s lips before she even knew she would speak. “I was not compromised.”
Cobalt blue eyes met hers, and she forced herself not to shrink away from Sebastian’s ruthless will. She saw Jocelyn fleetingly touched his arm. He relaxed slightly as he laced his hands with hers beneath the table.
