Page 32 of Lady Constantine & the Sins of Lord Kilgore
“And if I get you with child?” Hell, he could not believe he was even asking it, but what choice did he have? He could not allow her to go into another man’s bed. That would drive him insane where the asylum had failed to do so.
Indecision flickered on her face. She sucked in her lips, then bit the bottom one before saying, “Then I will go.”
“Fine,” he replied, ripping his gaze away from her mouth. Watching her was making him envision giving her love bites on her lips, her neck, her breasts, her inner thighs. Unbridled passion could not be part of this arrangement. It would make him want to reconsider or relent, and neither of those things were an option for him.
“I imagine you don’t feel up to starting tonight,” she whispered, a blush turning her face rosy.
Good Christ, no.
“I do not,” he said, shifting to sit up more. He needed time to brace himself against her charms. Regular beatings in the ring ought to help with that. If he was too damn tired and sore to move, surely it would dull his reaction to her.
A quick knock came, followed by the door flinging open with a bang and White ambling in with a tray heavy with food. “Cook says this will give you lots of strength,” he said, coming toward the bed with the tray, but his body jerked to the right in one of his sudden tics, and the tray tilted forward, the steaming bowl of soup sliding toward Constantine’s head.
Callum astonished himself by springing forward and batting the bowl away, hot soup splashing on the arm he had lifted up to shield Constantine. “Damn,” he swore.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” White cried out, then started to rock back and forth where he stood.
“White,” Callum said, taking the tray from his friend and making a soothing sound. The man was already moving into a cowering stance as his head started to twitch rhythmically to the right, which it did when he was frightened. “Look at how spritely I am today,” Callum exclaimed. And in truth, his body was faring far better than he’d expected. His leg muscles ached, but he welcomed the ache. It was better than the oblivion the drug had caused. He had no desire for the drug at the moment, which was a relief, because he’d desperately wanted it when he’d arrived in London. By that time, he’d been five days without it, so it was nearly two sennights now.
“White, you look as if you have new livery on,” Callum said, hoping to get the man’s mind off the accident. Constantine rang a bell, and to Callum’s surprise, a servant, a young woman, appeared in the doorway. She bobbed a curtsy as Constantine pointed to the soup.
“Jane, would you please see this mess cleared? We have had an accident.”
White grinned at Constantine suddenly as if she was his favorite person in the world, and Callum had the absurd desire to grin at her as well. He clenched his teeth instead, but it didn’t banish what he felt. She was amazing, kind, and good. She’d managed with one well-placed word—we—to let White know that she did not hold him at fault for his accident with the soup. Just having her near made him feel good, which was why he had not wanted her to be here.
“White,” Constantine said in a gentle tone, “why don’t you go fetch Callum more soup?”
White nodded and departed the room and, moments later, Jane followed, saying she’d be back shortly to finish cleaning the floor. Constantine looked to him, and the wariness in her eyes caused his gut to ache, but he had to press on.
“Would you like me to stay with you while you eat?” she asked.
Yes. I’d like you to stay with me every second of every day.
“No,” he said instead, the word a sharp lash that made her visibly twitch.
“All right, then,” she said, her tone tight. “I have a meeting anyway.”
The wordmeetingbrought thoughts of the Society of Ladies Against Rogues to the forefront of his mind. He knew she was a member, as were her friends, and those women knowingly put themselves in danger. He’d once aided the Duchess of Greybourne on one of the SLAR missions, and the scar on his face had been payment for services rendered. He didn’t really give a damn about the scar, but he did give a damn about Constantine’s safety. “You may do as you like,” he said, preparing to lay some rules down for her, but she cut in before he could.
“How magnanimous of you,” she snipped.
“Yes.” He bit back a smile at her obvious annoyance with him. “I think so. I am your husband, after all.”
She hiked her eyebrows at his statement. “A husband who does not want me around.”
How very wrong she was.“Nevertheless, still your husband. Now, as I was going to say, do as you like, but do not put yourself in dangerous situations.”
“And what if I do put myself in dangerous situations?” she asked, setting her hands on her hips. By God, she was challenging him. She always had been obstinate, which was one of the things that had drawn him to her.
“Don’t. It is one of my requirements for you, and you will not break it, and if you do, you will not like what happens.” God. He sounded like his father when his father had told him at ten he required Callum to embrace being the marquess and forget the nonsense of painting with his mother. Of course, Callum had done the opposite, rebelling mightily at being told what he could and could not do and desire.
“And exactly what will happen?” she demanded, thepat, pat, patof her foot tapping angrily under her gown filling the room.
The thought of her actually endangering herself simply to show she’d do as she pleased snapped the control he’d not realized was so tenuous. “I will force you to the country and there I will set someone to guard you day and night if that’s what I must do to keep you safe, even from yourself.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” she vowed, and though her tone was angry, he could have sworn he saw the smallest smile tug at her lips, but it was gone before he could say for certain.
“I assure you if you break my rules for you, I will send you to the country without servicing and under lock and guard.”
