Chapter 10

Ten

S eth strolled along the dusty road that ran along the property's edge. He'd spent the day distracted, thoughts of Constantine plaguing him, and he'd had more than his share of it.

As a result, he'd begged off from going shooting with the other men and set out for a walk.

He'd hoped the fresh air and exercise would help him sort out his thoughts. If all else failed, he'd believed the sounds and sights of nature would at least prove a much-needed distraction from his constant musings.

Seth had been woefully mistaken.

His myriad of thoughts accompanied every step he took, and he soon wished he'd gone huntingafter all.

Perhaps the act of shooting would have distracted him. Leastwise it would have allowed him to release some of his frustration.

Constantine was a constant source of frustration. The little hellion! Not only did she refuse his proposal, but she also drove him mad with physical need and longing.

He'd turned her objections over and over through his mind, discrediting them each time.

Nothing she'd said made sense—not when one considered that she was a marriageable lady of good breeding. Couple that with her father sending her to London in order to have a season, and nothing added up.

Ladies had seasons so thatthey might secure husbands. There was no other reason for it—not that he knew of. Yet she refused him.

Seth shook his head. An innocent miss determined to get ruined but entirely adverse to marriage. Why?

He nearly tripped over his own foot as the reason crashed into his consciousness like a tidal wave. She wasn't innocent. He recalled the way she'd touched him. The way she offered herself to him and the things she said.

She'd blushed her share, and he'd seen her nervousness when he first entered her room, but then… The way she'd pleasured him. The way she'd taken her own pleasure.

If he was right, it explained everything. She likely considered herself damaged goods. Believed that no gentleman would ever have her.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, kicking a rock, then watched it skip down the road.

His stomach churned, jealousy sinking its jagged talons into his heart. If someone had taken advantage of her…

He'd kill the bastard. Hunt him down and challenge him to a duel.

And then he'd marry Constantine.

With renewed determination, he pivoted to march in the direction of the house. He'd cut across the field, then through the hedge maze. When she returned from the ladies' shopping excursion, he'd be waiting.

A sound plan, he thought as he picked up his pace. His footfalls were urgent as he trudged into the field, and yet, they were lighter than they had been moments before.

He made it across the expansive field in record time and entered the hedge maze before stopping to knock the mud from his Hessians.

Dratted field had been a soupy mess from the previous night's rain, and his boots were caked with mud as a result.

He grinned with amusement when he imagined his valet's reaction to the state of his boots. Percy would be beside himself and all a tither about setting them to rights.

Poor fellow. But it could not be helped, so Seth might as well find amusement in the situation.

"La, la d. Hum, hum, hum," feminine humming reached his ears as he rounded the next corner of hedges. He listened more intently as he slowed his pace.

Her voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket on a winter's night. "Constantine," he called out to her.

The humming ceased, and a heartbeat after, she answered. "Gulliver. Where are you?"

"You agreed to call me Seth."

"So I did," came her reply.

He started strolling toward her voice. "Stay where you are. I know this maze like the back of my hand. Continue your song, and I'll find you."

She did as he asked, and in another few minutes, he turned down her path.

Seth could scarcely help but grin at the sight of her. She stood with her head tipped slightly back, eyes closed as the sun washed over her face.Her lips were slightly parted as she hummed.

The rose-colored gown she wore clung to her curves, and the golden combs pressed into her golden hair, holding her chignon in place, glistened in the sun's rays.

Her breasts swelled over the edge of her bodice with each breath she drew, beckoning him to her as much as her song did.

His groin tightened with undeniable need, and he slowed his pace. The devil in him could not resist the opportunity to surprise her.

He crept closer, careful not to make a sound, then wrapped his arm about her waist and delighted in the squeal she released.

"You beast." She laughed as she swatted at his arm, half-heartedly.

He chuckled. "I could scarcely stop myself." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Don't be cross."

"I ought to be," she peered at him with a playful sparkle in her gaze. "But I am not."

He released her, then offered his arm. "Shall we walk?"

"Yes, I'd like that." She placed her hand around his elbow, then strolled beside him.

Seth slanted his gaze at her, not at all sure how he should broach the subject of her virtue—or lack thereof. He couldn't very well just come out with it. Could he?

"What are you doing out here?" She asked before he had the chance to say anything.

"I needed some solitude. Why aren't you in the village with the others?" He countered.

"I also required solitude." She shot him a wee grin. "What's weighing on your mind?" She asked, then pulled the corner of her lower lip between her teeth and averted her gaze.

He suspected whatever she'd wished to ponder was very much in line with his own musings. Regardless, there was no time like the present to have out with it.

He drew her around the next turn, then brought them to sit on an iron bench. "I've been thinking about us."

"Oh," her eyebrows raised. "Do, go on."

He pressed his eyes shut and took a long breath of the spring air. "Is there another reason you refuse my suit? A more personal reason than those you've previously shared?"

When she did not speak, he found the courage to met her gaze and added, "Do you have cause to believe yourself un-marriageable?"

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Have you… Well… How do you know the things you do?"

Tilting her head slightly, she searched his gaze. "I'm afraid I do not follow."

There was nothing for it. He'd have to be blunt. Seth took her hand in his and rubbed small circles over the back of it.

How he wished she didn't wear gloves, for he'd very much like to feel her skin. Bracing himself, he said, "Have you been with a man?"

"What?"

The gold flecks in her eyes sparked with indignation, or furry, or perhaps both, then she started laughing. Laughing, for Heaven's sake! He didn't know what to make of the reaction, so he remained silent, rubbing her hand and watching the enchanting woman.

When she at last sobered, she caught his gaze. "I can well imagine why you might think as much. My behavior has been anything but chaste. However, I assure you I am a virgin."

His jaw slackened even as his heart sank. If he was wrong… Bloody hell. How would he ever get through to her? Not yet ready to give up his theory, he pressed further. "Then how is it you know so much about… intimate relations?"

Her grin bloomed into a bright smile. "I grew up in the country, not a nunnery. I often overheard conversations, and occasionally, spied couples engaged in..." She raised her hand and swirled it around, cutting the air between them. "Well, you can imagine."

"Indeed. But that scarcely explains your aptitude." Never had another woman drove him mad with desire as she did.

Neither had any other satisfied him so thoroughly—not even when they fully joined.

Stranger than everything else was the way she engaged with such nonchalance. "You must have some experience. Beyond me," he quickly added.

"I'm afraid not." She shrugged, then pursed her lips. "There was one time. A boy from the village kissed me at a country dance, but it was not pleasant. Nothing at all like the kisses we share. Perhaps that is the result of inexperience?"

"No. That results from two people who shouldn't be kissingin the first place." He brushed a wayward curl from her temple.

"Regardless it was a long time ago." She smiled, a whimsical curving of her lush lips. "I much prefer to focus on the present," she said as she slid closer.

Her thigh brushed his, sending waves of longing through him.

He turned, bringing her closer, then captured her lips, and at that moment, he knew he was lost. Lady Constantine Hartley owned him—heart, body, and soul.

He broke away. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he held her gaze, willing her to see the tenderness that undoubtedly reflected in his own gaze. "I have never met another like you. I'm convinced I never will. Let me protect you. Allow me to stand beside you for the rest of our days. You needn't manage my estates. My Stuarts and housekeepers do a fine job of that. As for lavish parties." He shook his head. "Who needs them? Certainly notthe two ofus."

"Seth—"

He brushed his lips against hers, hushing her. "Allow me to finish."

She nodded, her expresion unreadable.

"I want nothing more than to make you happy. We can live with your father if that is your desire, or purchase a home nearby. Whatever you want, Constantine, you need only say the word."

He took both of her hands in his. "They say that love makes fools out of otherwise reasonable men." He averted his gaze. "I say, who needs reason when you've found your soulmate."

"You love me?" Her voice was low, barely a whisper on the breeze.

He met her mist-filled gaze and nodded. "Lady Constantine Hartley, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife, my marchioness, my friend and lover for the rest of our days?"

"Yes." She smiled, her whole face lighting up.

The simple word brought him more joy than anything before this moment ever had.

"On one condition," she said as she notched her chin a fraction higher.

His throat tightened, his heart hitching. "Whatever your terms, I'll meet them."

She gave a firm nod, then said, "We will not announce the engagement until you've spoken with my father."

He released a whoosh of pent up breath. "I'll go to him at first light tomorrow."

She caught the knot of his cravat with her fingers and pulled him closer. "See that you do."

What a woman, he thought to himself as he crushed her lips beneath his in a demanding kiss. The sort meant to brand one's soul.

She'd said yes. Constantine was his, and he belonged to her. Now he had only her father to convince.

How hard could it be?