Page 59 of When the Viscount Seduces
“She’s been ill. Or so she says.”
“You don’t believe her?”
“I’m not inclined to believe any of her claims. Drox,I don’t remember fucking her.”
Droxford’s brows rose again.
“My apologies,” Lazarus murmured. He’d forgotten that Droxford didn’t really curse. He’d never once, as far as Lazarus could recall, uttered any version of the wordfuck.
“I don’t mind swearing. I just rarely do it because my father beat it into me that such words came from the devil’s mouth.” Droxford sniffed. “So, you don’t recall bedding her, and you think she may be lying. I do find it odd that she waited so long to approach you, ill or not. Surely her mother could have spoken to you.”
Lazarus hadn’t considered that. “She’s given me until Monday to make my offer of marriage. If I don’t, she’ll tell her father and grandfather.”
“Nothing like a little extortion to make one’s story more believable.” Droxford scowled. “Why would she not tell them straightaway?”
“She is trying to cover up the pregnancy entirely. She suggested we remove to the country after we are wed—with due haste—until well after the child is born so we can be vague about the timing of its arrival.”
“She has a plan,” Droxford noted.
“I thought the same thing.”
“And you are her pawn.” Droxford’s brow creased into deep furrows. “Are you prepared to marry her?”
“I don’t want to.” Lazarus felt hopeless.
“But would it be the worst thing? You will need to marry at some point, yes?”
“Yes. But not her. I don’t know her. I don’t even find her attractive.” Because as of recently, no one appealed to him aside from a sable-haired, dark-eyed beauty who tripped over her own feet and whose laugh sounded like a sunbeam. If they had sound.
“Let us talk through what will happen if you refuse to marry her. She will tell her father and grandfather. I can guarantee her grandfather will try to force the marriage. He may even bend the prince regent’s ear and try to convince him to compel you.”
Lazarus felt queasy. “He can’t make me marry her.”
“No, but he can end your life as you know it. You won’t be invited anywhere. Your position in the Lords would be compromised—in that you would become largely ineffective as many members will refuse to associate with you. And of course, your family would be affected.”
His mother. His sisters. Their husbands. Theirchildren.
“Your wife,” Lazarus whispered, horrified that this terrible situation could touch sweet Tamsin, who’d so recently found happiness.
“Perhaps,” Droxford said with a grimace. “I won’t lie. I think you may just need to marry this woman. Unless, are you certain you didn’t bed her?”
“No, I’mnotcertain.” Lazarus leaned one elbow on the arm of the chair. “I went to a pub with Sheff one night, and we got so drunk, I don’t remember a thing. I don’t even know how we ended up back at the estate. I was completely worthless the following day. And I think we left the day after that.”
“Does Sheff remember anything?”
Of course Lazarus should ask. He’d thought of Shefford in the park earlier and should have gone directly to his apartment at the Albany. “I’ll find out.” Lazarus would hunt him down later.
“I propose you take the next couple of days to try to determine the truth. She is definitely expecting?” Droxford shook his head. “I hate asking that.”
“I know. I hated thinking it. She was careful to show me her abdomen.”
“Well then, you try to discern if it really could have been you. Perhaps Sheff will be able to provide you with an alibi.”
God, that would be lucky.
“But you also need to consider what you’ll do if presented with proof that you did, in fact, bed her. You’ve no idea what Sheff remembers.”
Lazarus’s momentary excitement vanished. He couldn’t marry Miss Worsley. Not just because he didn’t want to, but because he was in love with Gwen. He wanted to marryher.
