Page 19 of Impassioned
“Why not?”
“It’s…complicated. And awkward. You know our marriage was arranged.”
“Yes, but I thought you wanted to marry her.”
“I did.” Until he’d learned she hadn’t wanted to marry him. The day before the wedding, his father had said the bride wished to cry off but that she would do her duty. Anything else would have been a scandal, which the duke would never have tolerated.
Learning she didn’t want him, that she would have preferred to ruin herself than marry him had hurt more than he’d ever acknowledged. Not to himself and certainly not to anyone else.
“She was a demure, sheltered young lady when we married. She knew absolutely nothing on our wedding night other than that I would come to her bed.” Which had made for a disastrous occasion in which he’d rushed through the act in an effort to get it over with as quickly as possible for her. She’d been absolutely terrified. He hadn’t sought to share a bed with her again for months.
Lucien’s eyes widened, and he sat straighter. “Shit, who’s going to tell Cass about this sort of thing? That would have been Mama’s responsibility.”
Constantine stared at him. “I don’t want to talk about our sister and sex!”
“Someone’s going to have to speak with her. The duke expects her to marry by the end of the Season.”
“Aunt Christina will do it.” As the closest female relative, their father’s sister was their younger sister Cassandra’s sponsor for the Season.
Lucien snorted. “Will she? And if she does, can we trust her to do an adequate job, or will she bungle it as your mother-in-law did?”
“Can we address my crisis first?”
“It’s a crisis now, is it?” Lucien wiped his hand over his brow and apologized again.
“You can’t seem to keep yourself from making light of this, which is precisely why I was hesitant to come.” A long-held frustration that had burned just below the surface finally boiled over in Constantine. “You taunt me at every turn. I know you don’t understand my reticence and love of solitude, but you don’t have to. You only need to accept me as I am and leave me the hell alone about it.”
Lucien stared at him for a long moment during which Constantine’s chest felt lighter than it had in years. Finally, he blinked. “I’m sorry.” The words were soft and heartfelt. “You’re right. I don’t understand you—not entirely. You are too much like our father, who I rather dislike. Sometimes I allow that to affect my behavior toward you and I shouldn’t.”
“Thank you.”
“However, I stand by my belief that you should relax and be less restrained. Bask in your solitude and avoid people as if they carried syphilis if you must but pursue the things that make your life whole and wonderful.”
Constantine wasn’t sure what those things were beyond his work, which, like his marriage, his father had pushed him into. That wasn’t precisely true. “I have my racing club.” He took great joy in that, actually.
Lucien cast him a gimlet eye, then stood and went to the cabinet with his liquor. A few moments later, he returned carrying two glasses. He handed one to Constantine before retaking his chair.
“Isn’t it a bit early for this?” Constantine sniffed the liquid, thinking it looked like whisky. And yes, it was—likely smuggled—Scotch whisky.
“Is it?” The question was sardonic and completely rhetorical. Constantine sipped his whisky, grateful for his brother’s hedonism for perhaps the first time. Perhaps heshouldloosen up.
“You said you wanted to marry Lady Aldington. You felt something for her then?”
Feel… Constantine didn’t typically survey his emotions. “I thought she was the most beautiful woman in England. I still do.” And objectively, she was—or at least one of the most beautiful. But something had shifted last night. The pull he felt toward her went beyond an appreciation for her beauty. She’d asked him about his work, and she spoke with an intelligence and confidence he hadn’t known she possessed.
“That’s a start,” Lucien said encouragingly. “How did you envision your marriage?”
Irritation sparking, Constantine ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t.” He’d just done the next duty on the list. “Can you stop asking me about our marriage and just tell me what to do?”
“I need to understand the problem—as do you—before we can fix it,” Lucien said drily. “But fine, let’s get to the important part. You need to have sex with your wife, and you’d like for both of you to enjoy it. However, you are hung up on something that’s preventing you from just shagging her senseless, as you claim to know how to do.”
“I never claimed any such thing. And there’s no need to be crass.” Except his brother was right. Her fear and agitation and the knowledge that she didn’t want him made it nearly impossible for him to bed her, let alone make it pleasurable.
Lucien rolled his eyes in a thoroughly exaggerated fashion. “Jesus, Con, do not get distracted by the language I’m using. Do you know how to seduce her or not?”
“Not her, no. She’s…different. I honestly don’t even know where to begin. I’m trusting you not to make light of this.”
“I won’t. Not about this. Trust me.” Lucien looked him in the eye, reminding Constantine of when they were boys and they’d promised each other to keep whatever mischief they’d gotten into from their nurse. Neither of them had ever broken one of those vows, not even when Lucien had broken a windowpane or when Constantine had picked all of their mother’s favorite daisies.
