Chapter 8

Eight

" Y ou what?" Seth asked as he stared at Constantine, unable to believe the words he'd heard. Evidently, his mind was playing games because well-bred young ladies did not suggest such things.

But then neither did they welcome men into their bedchambers and allow them to stay well into the night. He brushed a hand through his hair. Hell, the sun would soon be rising.

Constantine pushed up on one elbow, bringing her gaze more in line with his. "I am proposing to be your mistress."

His heart thumped, anger igniting a searing fire within him. Did she think him the sort to ruin young ladies, then refuse marriage? Or did she believe herself too good for him?

Seth peered at her, his pride stinging. He never would have touched her if he hadn't planned to wed her. Hell, he chose her almost from the first moment he laid eyes on her.

Seth swallowed back his indignation and reached out to cup her cheek in his hand. "I want more than a mistress."

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I'm afraid I do not follow."

He sat up, pulling her into his lap and holding her tight. She deserved better. "Constantine, I want you for my wife."

Her eyes rounded, then she shook her head with vigor. "No. It's out of the question."

His chest squeezed at the rejection. "You think me not good enough." He blew out a breath, then continued. "Perhaps you are right. I am a rogue with a nasty reputation. My title is the only reason I'm still allowed in many drawing rooms, and I have no family to recommend me. All the same, I would do everything in my power to be a good husband. My character is not so bad as the ton makes it out to be. The Duke and Duchess can attest to that. Lady Celia and the Dowager, too."

"No." Constantine shook her head with even more conviction. "It is I who am not worthy of you. My life has been spent tucked away in the country without the benefit of proper training and lessons." Moisture gathered in her eyes, but no tears fell. "I cannot cross-stitch, neither do I play the pianoforte. I haven't a clue about hosting parties and am mostly inept at household management as our housekeeper has always handled such things."

"None of that matters."

"Of course it does. For Heaven's sake, you are a Marquess!" She blew out a frustrated breath as she slid from his lap and paced across the plush carpeting of the bedchamber. "You require a lady that excels in all such things. One who can care for your home and your guests." Her head drooped as she exhaled. "I would be an embarrassment."

"Never!" He strode toward her. "Your father is an earl, and your mother was a Viscount's daughter. Your pedigree is beyond reproach." He captured her hands in his. "You are a lady. And you are the only one I want."

"You cannot be serious." She attempted to pull her hands free,but he held fast to them. "I'm a social disaster. You've seen it with your own eyes. Let us not forget my ineptitude with a spoon."

"I find your quirks endearing." He stepped closer. "Your inadequacies, as you call them, are charming." He took another step, placing his thumb under her chin and guiding her gaze to his. "Your spirit, intoxicating."

"You're mad," she said, but did not move toput space between them.

"Mad for you," he said, then captured her lips.

His body reacted the moment their lips touched. It didn't matter that this kiss was a gentle press of his lips to hers, rather than the all-consuming, passionate kisses they'd previously shared.

She stirred his blood all the same, and he became more determined to have her for his wife.

He nipped at the tender flesh of her lower lip, then pulled back.

"Say you will consent to be my wife," he murmured.

Constantine placed her hands on his chest and stared into his eyes. "Say you will come to me tonight," she countered.

Seth shook his head. The woman was deuced stubborn, but he rather liked that about her. She would challenge him, amuse him, test him. A life with her would be full of passion and excitement. He placed his hands over hers, holding them to his chest. "If you will marry me, I will come tonight."

She blew out an exasperated sigh. "I already told you why I cannot marry you."

"And it is rubbish," he said, steering her toward the chair by the window that faced out at the dukes' gardens. "look," he said, indicating the torchlit, meandering paths below, and the vast shadowed lands beyond. "You belong here. It makes no difference to me what spoon you prefer. This is your world. Allow me to show you how well you fit into it." He turned to her, taking both of her hands in his. "Allow me to court you."

"Preposterous! I do not wish to be courted—not by any lord. Why must you be so difficult?"

"Me? Difficult?" He shook his head. "Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

She stifled a small laugh. "Very well, but all the same, I cannot marry you." She gave a seductive grin, her eyes smoldering with desire. "But I can be your mistress."

Exasperated, he released his hold on her and dropped into the chair. "Suppose I came to you tonight and bedded you. What then?"

She lowered herself to sit on his lap. "Then we would spend the rest of our nights here together and happy."

"You would be ruined."

"I would have grand memories to take with me when I return to the country, and whatever fate awaits me."

"You might have a great deal more," he muttered.

Constantine arched a brow, the gold flecks in her eyes sparkling. "What did you say?"

"I said you may have a great deal more than memories. There could be serious consequences, the least of them being your social ruin. Have you considered that?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

"You mean a babe?"

"Indeed."

She smiled mischievously as she fiddled with his cravat. "You are a rogue, and I have it on the best of authority that rogues know how to prevent such things."

"Nothing is foolproof, Constantine. I do not want a fleeting happiness. More importantly, I do not want to see you ruined and forced to marry me." He stood, bringing her with him, then set her on her feet. "I want you to do so because your heart demands it."

"You would come to hate me," she said, squaring her shoulders.

He started to speak, but she brought her finger to his mouth, silencing him.

"My proposition surprised me as much as it did you, but the truth is,I want you. I feel a pull between us that my mind, heart, and body are demanding to explore. I have reconciled myself to a life of spinsterhood or that of a country wife, but I want to explore this… whatever this thing between us is. I dobelieve we share a connection."

He latched onto several words— heart, pull between us, connection —and hope sprang to life. She was not a loose woman. Neither did she genuinely wish to be a mistress.

No, she wanted what he offered. She was just too afraid to grab it and, at the same time,too greedy to let go.

This was very good, indeed. Seth would allow her to explore their connection, and when she discovered she could not live without him, she'd marry him. He strolled toward the bedchamber door, his steps a bitlighter than before, and when he reached the oak panel, he turned back to her. Seduction would be the key to unlocking her heart. "I'll see you tonight." Seth took hold of the door handle.

Her smile broadened, and she gave a firm nod. "I shall count the hours."

"See that you do," he said, then tugged the door open and stepped into the hall, letting it click shut behind him.