For years Madame Corressa had been the largest part of her personality, the inner harlot who had lived for her next protector, thinking that was the only way she could truly succeed. It was why she had been so determined to live life on her own after Alessandro had died, because she wanted to remember who Constance Freewater was, but even then, that wasn’t her true surname. It was the one she’d shared with her mother as an honorary title and nothing else. It was something she could tell people without just saying her name was Miss No-Name.
Strangely enough, Constance began to wonder about who her true father was, although she knew she would never know his identity. She doubted that her mother could even tell her. She’d enjoyed countless lovers over the years, and the king himself could be Constance’s sire and she would have no clue.
So, who was Constance Freewater, truly?
A frown creased her brow, because she might never have the answer to that question.
“You should be in bed.”
Constance wasn’t surprised that Devin was up. He seemed to have a remarkable sense of knowing when she was around. “Don’t try to boss me around in the home I’m paying for, Mr. Blackmore.” She sipped from her cup, although she couldn’t quite hide a smile beneath the rim.
Instead of sitting down on the settee next to her, he took the chair across from her. He was in a pair of dark trousers, although his feet were bare. He’d also donned a green, velvet robe, but since it appeared he’d thrown it on haphazardly, it did little to cover his bare chest. Combined with her white nightdress and robe, her long hair in a plait over her shoulder and her own naked feet peeking beneath it all, it seemed quite normal to be chatting with him in such intimate surroundings. The fire had died down to simmering coals and although Constance had lit a candle to light her way down the stairs, it cast little light.
However, it was enough to ascertain that his gaze was steady upon her.
She hoped he couldn’t see her heart pounding beneath her breast in return.
“What are you doing up, Constance?” His voice was deep and smooth, like the finest wine.
“I couldn’t sleep?” She attempted a jest, but she should have realized that he wouldn’t accept such a feeble answer.
“What’s troubling you?”
She shrugged. “Well, it was a rather eventful afternoon. Does that count?”
He sighed. “What made you decide to go to Montfree’s?”
“The gardener.” At his confused expression, she explained. “Call it a sixth sense or a gut feeling, but Lady Blessington had recently taken on a new gardener. I saw him when we took a turn about the grounds, and something didn’t settle well with me. I thought perhaps Granelli and his men had returned to London.”
“If they had ever left at all.”
This time it was Constance who tilted her head curiously. “What makes you say that? Do you think Drennan lied to me?”
“Not by choice. He could have been coerced into doing so in order to throw us off of Granelli’s scent.”
Constance considered this. “I see your point, and it could very well be. Nevertheless, Granelli is here now and he will be more of a threat than ever before.”
Devin remained silent, no doubt because he agreed with her assessment.
“And now you know why I’m awake.”
“Granelli is not your concern.”
“I would have to dispute that claim,” she countered. “I didn’t tell you that before you and Luke burst into the room to save the day, Granelli told me that he had been inquiring after our whereabouts and once he was done with me, he intended to finish what he started with you.” She took another sip of her tea, but this time it slithered into her stomach like poison. Setting it aside, she said, “So, you see, it appears that we share a mutual villain after all.”
“I won’t let him hurt you again.”
Constance smiled at the determination in Devin’s tone, and when she looked up to regard him, his gaze was so fierce that her lungs nearly seized from it. “You won’t be there all the time. Besides, I managed just fine on my own.”
He moved so quickly that she wasn’t quite prepared. One moment he was across from her, and in the next he was kneeling down in front of her, his hands clutching either side of her face. “Why do you have to be so bloody stubborn? I know that you can take care of yourself, but is it so wrong for me to want to do it for you?”
The fervor in his voice matched the sparks swirling in his eyes and she abruptly lost the ability to speak. But it was the yearning she felt inside at his words that made her jerk out of his embrace. “Don’t say things like that.” Getting up, she put some much needed distance between them. She walked over to the mantel and stood in front of the dying embers and crossed her arms.
For a moment, all was silent and she wondered if he’d left, but then he spoke softly. “Why do you insist on pushing me away, Constance? Or have you done that all of your life? Can’t you believe that someone could truly care for you?”
“No!” Constance spun on Devin, her fists clenched. He was standing, regarding her evenly. It angered her that not only could he see through her, but that he actually appeared to pity her. “Why must you insist on pushing me at all? What is it that you expect of me? I laid with you. Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”
He abruptly stilled, his eyes turning flat. “Is that all you think you mean to me? Someone to fuck?” He shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, but if that’s all I wanted, I could have found any number of willing women around this city to suck my cock.”
