Page 24 of Lady Guinevere & the Rogue with a Brogue
The moment Lady Longford departed, Lady Constantine spoke before Asher had thought of a good way to present his idea in a way the lady would not find offensive. “Your Grace, may I have leave to speak plainly?” she asked.
It seemed that was the question of the day. “I am a Scot at heart, Lady Constantine, and though we have only just met, I can assure ye I prefer blunt talk to prevarication.”
“Excellent. So do I. We do not have long, so I must ask, why are you here? I’m not as foolish as my mother to think you have been lured to my doorstep by my charms or my dowry, which is only passable. And I take it you are not desperate like Lord Charolton.”
He’d passed the lady in the dark passage last night on his way to the library, and then he’d seen her skittering away beside Guinevere when Guinevere had stormed out of the library. Lady Constantine must have hidden after Guinevere came to her rescue instead of immediately fleeing.
“I’m nothing like Lord Charolton,” he said.
“In case you are musing,” she said slowly in a firm tone, “I am not normally a foolish woman who is easily lured into dark libraries in the middle of a ball.”
He liked how truthful she was being. He arched his eyebrows. “And yet…”
“And yet,” she said, clearing her throat, “I was foolish last night. Lord Charolton used my greatest weakness against me.”
“Which is?” Asher asked, deciding he liked Lady Constantine. She awoke no desire, which made him like her even more. He would never lose his senses in her presence. One woman with the power to render him a fool was enough for this life, plus ten more.
“A secret,” she returned as the servant from earlier popped into the room with a new tea tray. While the servant refreshed their cups, which had not been touched and did not need refreshing, Lady Constantine showed off her impeccable skills at subterfuge in conversation. She talked of the weather, food, and embroidery, but the minute the servant disappeared, so did her facade. She got a direct look upon her thin face. “If you see Lady Guinevere, please convey again my utmost gratitude for her aid. I cannot imagine what brought the both of you into that corridor—” she gave him a look that said shecouldimagine, though she politely said otherwise “—but I’m very glad you both aided me. I am eternally grateful, and oh! It only just occurred to me, are you here to beseech me for discretion regarding you and Lady Guinevere?”
“The two of us?” he said, his mind going immediately to Guinevere’s perfect, plump, treacherous lips. What the devil did this woman know of what had happened in the library last night after she had apparently fled it?
Lady Constantine nodded. “Yes. Were you meeting secretly?”
“Nay,” he said, glad it was true.
“Oh.” Lady Constantine looked and sounded slightly confused and definitely disappointed. “Then why are you here if not to beg for my discretion?”
“Are we still speaking bluntly?”
“Did I indicate otherwise?” she asked, the cheeky chit. He did like her, indeed—as one would a newfound friend.
“I’m here to propose a marriage of convenience between the two of us.”
“Thank God you did not do so in front of my mother!” she said.
“Shall I consider that a nay.”
“You absolutely should! I could never wed you.”
“Is there someone else?” He was once again thinking of Guinevere and now Kilgore, damn the man.
“I daresay there is for both of us.” She gave him a knowing look he didn’t care for. “I cannot fathom why you are here offering a marriage of convenience to me when I saw what I did last night.”
He frowned. “What did ye see? And where exactly were ye?”
The lady cleared her throat, her cheeks pinkening, and then said, “Hiding. I confess I became worried for Lady Guinevere when you passed me and she remained in the library with Lord Charolton. And I saw your face when you were protecting Lady Guinevere.”
He clenched his teeth. “I feel nothing for Lady Guinevere, I assure ye.”
“My lord, you lie to yourself.”
Well there was lust. And old anger, but that was not her concern. “Let’s focus on ye, shall we?” he asked, not liking the direction of the conversation.
“If we must,” she said with a sigh. “But we should do so quickly. I imagine my mother will return soon.”
“What of this man ye say is for ye? Will he wed ye?”
“It is my fondest hope,” she said, looking suddenly sad. “He’s rather a fool, though.”
