by Darcy Burke
“No, it is not.” Constantine caught a hack and when they arrived on Curzon Street, he practically jumped from the vehicle. As they neared the house, he saw an unfamiliar gig outside.
Constantine bounded into the house where Haddock met him with a pinched expression.
“What’s the matter?” Constantine demanded, his blood running inexplicably cold at the worry in Haddock’s eyes. “Whose gig is that outside?”
“Her ladyship sent for a physician. He is upstairs with her now.”
The world tilted sideways. Constantine couldn’t breathe. He rushed upstairs, raced to their sitting room, and came face to face with her maid. “Where is Lady Aldington?” he demanded.
Charity paled as she pointed toward the closed door to her bedchamber. “She’s in there with Dr. Montbourne.”
Oh God, what if he was too late to stop whatever treatment the man had probably forced upon her? Who was this Dr. Montbourne anyway? Constantine didn’t know him, had never heard of him. And holy hell, why was his wife seeing a bloody doctor?
Constantine stormed into the room to find Sabrina perched on her bed and the charlatan Dr. Montbourne standing beside her. The man was too handsome to have serious medical credentials and certainly didn’t look old enough to have the requisite experience. Except none of that was regulated, which was why they needed the damn apothecaries bill.
“Back away from my wife,” Constantine shouted. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
Chapter 22
Sabrina almost didn’t recognize the wild-eyed gentleman who’d burst into her chamber. Constantine looked like some sort of beast, his teeth bared, his hands fisted at his sides as if he were going to launch himself at Dr. Montbourne and pummel him to bits.
“Er, good evening, Lord Aldington. I am Dr. Xavier Montbourne.” Holding out his hand with an engaging smile, he stepped toward Constantine.
Glaring at the physician, Constantine moved around him and put himself between the man and Sabrina. “Get out.”
“Constantine, stop. Please.” Sabrina reached for his hand, but he jerked away from her.
“I said get out. Now.” He advanced on the physician with a terrifying menace.
Sabrina jumped up from the bed and inserted herself in front of Dr. Montbourne. “Stop this nonsense right now. Dr. Montbourne was just leaving anyway. Even so, there’s no call to be rude.”
“Why is he here? What did he do to you?” The bleak distress in his gaze at last prompted her understanding. Finding her with a doctor would be upsetting to him.
Sabrina moved closer and took his hand again, squeezing it tightly so he wouldn’t let her go. This time, he did not. “Dr. Montbourne merely performed a simple examination. I experienced a few odd pains earlier, and I was hoping he would allay my concerns.”
Constantine had watched her as she spoke, but now he sent a suspicious glance toward the physician. “What sort of pains?”
“The sort that normally accompany a woman who is likely with child. I’m fine. Dr. Montbourne is lovely. And since he will return at a later time to check my progress, you should apologize.”
He stared at her, frozen for a long moment, so she squeezed his hand again and whispered his name. At last, he blinked and turned to face Dr. Montbourne.
“I apologize for my outburst. I require documentation of your education, your age, and how long you have practiced in your profession, and a list of no fewer than five—no, ten—references who can attest to your knowledge and expertise. References with medical backgrounds, from the Royal College and the like, not your neighbor or your mother.”
He sounded so very cross but also concerned, and Sabrina wanted to ease all of his pain.
Dr. Montbourne inclined his head. “I would be pleased to provide this information, my lord.”
“At the earliest opportunity,” Constantine practically growled.
Sabrina let go of Constantine’s hand. “I’ll see you out, Dr. Montbourne.” She led him from her bedchamber into the sitting room where Charity stood, her eyes wide.
“You may go, Charity,” she said with a smile before turning to Dr. Montbourne.
“Please accept my deepest apologies for my husband’s behavior. He lost his mother due to the care of an inept surgeon, and I’m afraid he has a grave distrust for medical practitioners.”
“That is understandable. I shall do my best to alleviate his concerns.” He took her hand and bowed. “Take good care, my lady. I’ll see you soon.”
“Thank you, Dr. Montbourne.” She watched him depart the sitting room, then turned to see her husband standing in the doorway wearing an extremely disgruntled expression.
“You shouldn’t tell him my personal history. It’s none of his business.”
Sabrina longed to smooth the worry from his forehead and from his very soul. “Why not, if it helps him understand his patients—you and me—better.”
Constantine grunted. “He is not my physician. Nor is he yours yet.”
She took a step toward him. “My dear Constantine, you must be willing to share things, to open up about your emotions—your fears and desires—if you want to get on in this life. I have only recently learned this lesson myself.”
He ran his hand through his hair, exhaling. “That’s why I’m here, actually.” He started forward but stopped a few feet away, his gaze dropping to her belly. “Is it really true? That you’re with child?”
She nodded, tears pricking the backs of her eyes and clogging her throat. “It seems so. My courses are extremely regular, and they are quite late. When I described my symptoms to Dr. Montbourne, he did a brief examination, and he believes that I am carrying. We will know for certain, of course, in the coming weeks.” Was he happy? Shocked? Terrified?
“I can hardly believe it,” he whispered. “What if something goes wrong?” His gaze lifted to hers, and she realized he was terrified.
“We will face it together,” she said. “I hope so anyway.”
He blinked, his features opening as if he’d just remembered something vitally important. “Yes, together. I don’t want to do anything without you. I thought I could go back to the way things were, that I preferred that—I think I even convinced myself that you wanted that too. But you came here looking for a change, determined to be someone different.” He shook his head, a faint smile teasing his lips. “Not someone different, but you.”
How had he come to understand her so perfectly? “Exactly. I’ve been who everyone wanted or expected me to be.”
“Including me. I assumed you loathed me because you didn’t want to marry me. I didn’t give you a chance. I didn’t give us a chance.”
“And I assumed you would be autocratic and cold like your father.”
“Haven’t I been?” Constantine arched a sandy brow, and the effect of his self-deprecation and sly humor was devastating.
Sabrina rushed forward and clasped his hand between hers. “Yes, but that’s not who you are.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t know who I was until you came to London to save me from myself. I know that was not your intent—you wanted a child—but that’s what happened.”
“Yes, I wanted a child, but I wanted you too.”
He narrowed one eye at her. “I think it’s important that we’re completely honest with each other, that there are no more assumptions or half-truths or misunderstandings.”
Heat rose up Sabrina’s neck. “All right, perhaps at first I was fixated on a child. But as soon as I learned about the pleasurable side of marriage, I wanted that. With you. Wanting you came very quickly—and easily. Even that first night when things were still so awkward between us, I wanted you. I just didn’t know how to show it, and I was too afraid to say it.”
He took his hand from hers and cupped her face, holding her as he stared into her eyes. “Promise you’ll never be afraid of me again. I would never hurt you. I love you completely.”
His words lit a brightness inside her that would never be diminished. For as long as
she lived, she would remember this moment, this man, and this outpouring she’d never imagined to see from him. The tears she’d held back spilled forth, trailing down her cheeks and onto his hands.
“My love,” he whispered before gently moving his lips over hers. “I wanted you even before we were wed. I was hurt when I learned you didn’t want to marry me, but I think I always hoped we would find a connection. If only I’d told you so—”
“Shh. Don’t look back.” Sabrina clutched at his lapels and held him to her. “I love you too,” she said, but she feared the words were lost against his mouth. She pulled away to look into his eyes. “I love you, Constantine.”
His hands stroked down her neck and rested on her shoulders. “You came here to change, and in doing so, you changed me.”
“I prefer to think we both discovered our truths—about ourselves and each other.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry it took an ill-conceived stratagem. If I could go back and change that, I would.”
“It was ill-conceived, and yet we really can’t complain about the results. I was desperate to do anything for you.” His voice broke, and Sabrina’s heart twisted.
She squeezed him tightly. “I treasured every moment of those encounters when you bared yourself to me in ways I don’t think you realized. That’s when I started to fall in love with you. Then you courted me, and I fell completely.”
“You’re right in that seeing the tutor helped me become myself, to strip away the artifice of being my father’s son.”
“Pretending to be a former courtesan allowed me to lose my inhibitions, to become your wife, not just your countess.”
He laughed softly. “I suppose we should be thankful for the ruse after all. And to Lucien and Mrs. Renshaw for their meddling.”
“Perhaps, but in the interest of speaking honestly, I must say I prefer to give the credit to us. You’re the one who made me feel desirable, and ultimately that gave me the courage I needed.”
“You are infinitely desirable.” Constantine lowered his head and kissed her jaw, then her neck. “Perhaps you’d like me to demonstrate how much?” His lips and tongue elicited a shiver as need gathered inside her.
She moved one hand to the back of his neck, urging him to continue with his mouth. “May I make a request?”
“Anything,” he whispered against her neck. “Make every request. I want to hear everything you are thinking from now on, no matter what.”
“Everything? Well, then, I want you to blindfold me. I imagined that must have heightened your senses when I was the tutor, and I wanted to know what that felt like.”
“Would you like me to be your tutor?” he asked huskily, provoking a flash of lust so hot and bright that Sabrina quivered in his arms.
“Yes, please. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Just love me.”
“That’s easy because I already do.” She narrowed her eyes at him and tugged his hair. “You’re going to have to be naughtier than that.”
He swept her into his arms with a growl and strode to the bed, depositing her carefully onto the mattress. After removing his boots, coat, and waistcoat, he returned to her as he stripped his cravat away. “Ready?”
She nodded, eager for this night and all the nights to come.
He paused, his eyes glistening as he looked at her. “I love you, Sabrina, with all of my cold, black heart.”
She cupped his face and kissed him hard and fast. “Your heart is not cold, nor is it black. It is warm and kind and full of love. And it is mine.”
Epilogue
April 1, London
* * *
“Why are you smiling?” Constantine asked his wife as their coach arrived in Portman Square, where they would attend a ball with Cassandra. While Sabrina was no longer her official sponsor, she and Constantine had agreed that they would continue to support his sister in her Season—if only to provide an additional defense against their father’s meddling.
“I was just thinking of the new kitten and how Grayson already seems to adore him. I think he wanted a brother.”
At both Sabrina and Constantine’s insistence, Haddock had found another kitten the day before. Sabrina, with Constantine’s full endorsement, had insisted both he and Grayson have the run of the house. The buff-colored kitten had slept on Sabrina’s lap that morning as they’d breakfasted, and Constantine suspected that would become a regular occurrence. Both woman and cat had appeared quite content.
“I’m not at all sure the addition will calm Grayson, however,” Constantine noted. The two liked to tussle, and it was rather amusing to watch.
Sabrina laughed softly. “No, I’m not sure it will either. But I don’t mind, do you?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
The coach had pulled abreast of the entrance to the house and a moment later, the groom opened the door. Constantine stepped out and helped Sabrina to the ground. She was even more stunning than normal due to the glow that Constantine was certain emanated from the child she carried.
Offering his arm, he guided her to the house, and they made their way through the receiving line and into the ballroom. “Shall we find Cass?” he asked, surveying the large space for his sister.
“Yes. I daresay your aunt has likely already abandoned her.”
“Indeed, she has. Cass and Miss Lancaster are near that large potted palm.” He led Sabrina through the crowd to where the two young women stood.
Cassandra’s eyes lit as they approached. “Thank goodness you are here. I can’t tell you how happy I was to receive your note, Sabrina.” Sabrina had written to tell her that she would continue to act as a sponsor, even if she didn’t officially carry that title.
“You look awfully relieved,” Constantine said. “Has something happened with Aunt Christina?”
“Nothing outside of the usual.” Cassandra glowered toward some distant point across the room. “She is mostly worthless as a sponsor, and why Father doesn’t see that, I don’t know.” She turned her attention to Sabrina, her eyes narrowed in frustration. “I am still quite furious with him for removing you as my sponsor. I am so angry, in fact, that I’ve half a mind to marry the next man I see. We’ll dash off to Gretna Green as my dear friend Fiona did.”
“Did I hear my name?” A red-haired young woman stepped out from behind the potted palm. At her side was the Earl of Overton, her new husband. Constantine couldn’t help but remember the very last time he’d seen them—some four weeks before. He could scarcely believe how much had changed in such a short time.
Cassandra had let out a delighted shriek, and she and Lady Overton were now embracing in a thoroughly inappropriate manner given their surroundings. Constantine was surprised to find he didn’t care.
“Good evening, Overton,” he said, hoping they could forget or at least ignore their encounter at the Phoenix Club those weeks ago. “May I offer my heartfelt congratulations to you and Lady Overton?”
Overton shook Constantine’s hand, showing no indication he recalled their meeting. “Thank you, I am glad to have them.” He introduced his new wife to Sabrina.
“I’m so pleased to meet Cassandra’s good friend,” Sabrina said.
Cassandra took Lady Overton’s hand. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re back. The last few weeks have been quite trying. There is so much to tell you. And, of course, I must hear all about your trip.” She grinned. “You’re a countess now!”
Lady Overton laughed. “Yes. It’s rather bizarre,” she added in a near whisper. “You didn’t become betrothed while I was away, did you?”
“No, but it’s not for my father’s lack of pressure on the matter. If I don’t wed by June, he’s threatened to marry me off to some indeterminate gentleman.” Cassandra glanced toward Sabrina. “Isn’t that right?”
“So he said,” she exchanged a look with Constantine, and they silently communicated that they wouldn’t allow that to happen.
> Cassandra’s gaze gleamed with determination. “I’ve decided I’m going to marry the next man I encounter. I hope he’s especially roguish. Father will hate that.”
“Overton, you’ve returned!” Lord Wexford came toward them, his handsome face bright with a wide grin. He clapped Overton on the shoulder. “Welcome home.” He bowed to Lady Overton. “My lady, you are a vision of newlywed loveliness. My congratulations to you both.”
Miss Lancaster leaned close to Cassandra and whispered something that made Cassandra laugh softly. She nodded in response before addressing Wexford.
“My lord, I think you should dance with me.”
Overton pivoted toward her, his brow creasing. “Ah, perhaps you’d like to dance with me instead?”
Cassandra flashed him a smile. “Thank you, but I think it must be Wexford. In the meantime, let us take a turn, shall we?” She took the Irishman’s arm, and they began a promenade about the room.
Constantine wondered what his sister was up to and wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know. A few hours later, he handed Sabrina into their coach and climbed in after her, his feet aching from dancing with her, which he hadn’t done in ages. He kicked off his dancing slippers and wiggled his toes.
She stared at his stockinged feet. “Did you just take your shoes off?”
“I did.”
“First you danced with me and now this. You continue to astonish me, my lord.”
“You aren’t supposed to address me like that anymore.” He sounded cranky and immediately regretted his tone. “I meant that in jest, but that came out wrong. I suppose that’s because I really do prefer that you call me by my name when we are alone.”
She turned toward him on the seat and put her hand on his chest, her fingers diving beneath his waistcoat and pressing against him. “Constantine, I adore you so.”
“Even when my haughtier nature comes out?”
