Page 54 of When the Viscount Seduces
“One of them may ask to court you soon, so you should think on it.” Her mother patted her arm with a warm smile. “It’s exciting to think you may receive an offer of marriage very soon.”
Yes, exciting.
Except it wasn’t. Because Gwen realized the only offer that would truly excite her would have to come from Lazarus. And that was not going to happen.
“Let us walk a bit, Mama.” Gwen looped her arm through her mother’s and guided her toward where Lazarus stood. She didn’t get too close. She just wanted to be where he could perhaps see her, and she could make eye contact. Had he received her reading exercise? She was so hoping he would respond.
At last, the woman he was speaking with left his side, rejoining another group a very short distance away. Lazarus appeared to be frowning, his head tipped toward the ground.
Gwen fought the urge to go to him, to ask what was wrong. He looked up, and she finally caught his eye. Smiling, she began to remove her arm from her mother’s, intent on going to speak with him, until she realized she could not.
Not just because they weren’t supposed to continue their association in public, but because he turned and stalked away from the Ring. He’d seen that she was going to move toward him and had removed himself.
She ought to be grateful, but was instead disappointed. It seemed she would need to learn to live with that. As well as seeing a woman on his arm, knowing that would never be her.
CHAPTER 12
Lazarus arrived at the park just before five. He wanted to catch Gwen the moment she approached the Ring. Anticipation rushed through him, along with apprehension and anxiety. What if she really didn’t feel anything for him beyond friendship?
Perhaps that was precisely what he deserved. After years of roguish behavior, he’d finally fallen in love. It would serve him right for it not to be reciprocated.
“Somerton?”
Lazarus turned toward the feminine voice. For a moment, he was nonplussed, as he didn’t recognize the young lady who’d spoken.
She moved closer, her lips curving into an almost nervous smile. “We met at Lord Haverstock’s fox-hunting party—he is my grandfather.”
Back in November, Lazarus had attended the party, though he hated fox hunting. He suddenly recalled her. “Yes, I remember now. How pleasant to see you.”
“I hope you will continue to think that after you hear what I need to say. I do apologize it’s taken me so long to approachyou, but I’ve only just come to London this week. I’ve been ill for some time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lazarus tensed as he wondered what she could possibly reveal that would make things unpleasant. “I hope you are well recovered.”
“Not entirely, but I will be in a matter of months.” She took a breath, and Lazarus could see her pulse working along her slender throat. “I will be cured when I deliver the babe you gave me.”
Thewhat? The world tilted sideways. Lazarus blinked as a crushing sound roared in his ears. He never dawdled like that with young unmarried women. He just didnot. “That’s not possible,” he managed, his voice sounding as though he were drowning and could not get enough air.
“I assure you it is.” Her lip quivered, and she glanced away briefly. “Do you not recall our night together?”
Lazarus searched his memory for any time he’d spent with her. He’d probably flirted with her, but he didn’t actually recall. Lazarus would never have gone further with her—she was the granddaughter of the party host! He wouldn’t even have dared a kiss.
He thought of the week-long party, but could not summon a single specific recollection of her. A few nights had been fairly boisterous. Was it possible they’d had an interaction and he didn’t remember?
No, he hadn’t been that deep into his cups. Except for one night. He and Shefford had gone to a pub in the village one night and drunk an astonishing amount of ale. Then the owner had pulled out a cask of whisky he’d smuggled from Scotland, and they’d proceeded to become mindlessly incapacitated. Had something happened after they’d returned to the house?
The following morning, Lazarus had felt absolutely horrid. He’d stayed in his room until well into the afternoon. He didn’tremember anything out of the ordinary, save the excessive amount of drink he’d imbibed. Perhaps Shefford remembered something.
“I do not recall any specific meeting between us,” he whispered, his body shaking. “Are you certain it was me?”
Her eyes rounded, then narrowed. “Of course I am. You are the only man I’ve…been with. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that I don’t stand out to a man like you. I am likely just one of an endless list of conquests.”
Conquests?Lazarus didn’t go about debauching his way through house parties. He carried on discreet liaisons with widows, and the occasional married lady, though that had been when he was much younger.
“I am not a scoundrel, Miss…” Hell, he didn’t even recall her last name. It wasn’t Haverstock or even Haverstock’s surname. If he recalled, her mother was Haverstock’s daughter.
“Miss Melissa Worsley.”
“I do not…become intimate with young unmarried ladies. Not ever.” He couldn’t help thinking of Gwen, how he’d considered it with her. But he wouldn’t have done it, would he? His heart twisted. Gwen would hate him if she heard this news.
