I wanted to punch his pretty face. “You are bringing another person into this world. It will have an impact on our life whether you want it to or not.” Or it should. So help me if he pushed his child off on nannies—forget the knives, I would cave in his skull with my favorite lamp.
Justin boldly placed his hands on my knees. “Inheritance can only be passed through my bloodline, and we both know Oss would gut Hawthorne if he even looked at a female.”
“Let’s not blame Oss for your shortcomings!” I snapped. Better to channel my anger than allow heartbreak to destroy me.
I have never envied a woman the trials of childbirth, but a female could give Justin what I could not. Not only an heir, but the means to silence the critics who considered his relationship with me an end to his bloodline. Unfortunately for Justin, understanding doesn’t necessarily breed forgiveness. I hated being the last to know anything, especially when it involved me.
“And who was the lucky woman you decided was worthy of bearing your heir?” Might as well get the bad news all at once.
“Why do you want to know?” Justin’s forehead crinkled as if he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t winning this battle through faulty logic and repetition. “I contracted with her before we met.”
I wouldn’t put up with him stalling. “Who is she?”
Justin stood up to pace. He flailed his arms around as he walked, his entire body a picture of frustration. “You have to understand. I didn’t do this to hurt you. I don’t want to lose you over this.”
I didn’t have to be psychic to know I wasn’t going to like his answer.
“Who?”
Justin stopped his infernal walking and let out a sigh. “Minerva,” he confessed.
Bile stirred in my gut. “Minerva Grace?” The dark-haired lady had both political and monetary power within the Lock Lord circles. A direct contrast to my less-than-stellar standing.
She also hated me.
“Yes, that Minerva.” Justin took a deep breath before speaking again. “I know you don’t get along, but you hadn’t met before we made our agreement. Once she gives birth, she will be gone. She already signed a contract regarding her responsibilities to my heir. After he is weaned, she will be moved into the lodgings I’ve procured for her, or return to live with her mother, it matters not. She won’t be involved in the child’s raising.”
“And if you have a girl?” I scratched viciously at the back of my neck, trying to ground my emotions. A habit Justin despised. Right now, I couldn’t find a reason to care about Justin’s likes or dislikes.
“There are no laws banning a female from being a Lock Lord, or Lock Lady in that case. It has been done in the past. Although whomever my daughter marries will have to take her name.”
I folded my arms. “And you don’t plan on having a spare heir?” With the high infant mortality rates, most lords tried for at least two children. To only have one and hope it survived childhood was the height of folly.
Justin cleared his throat. “Not right away.”
My spirits plummeted. “You’ll have to hope the baby doesn’t inherit her temperament,” I taunted. The one time I met Minerva Grace, she sniffed at me as if I were a pile of dung she longed to scrape off Justin’s shoes. My fondness for her didn’t increase when she subsequently flashed my lover a coquettish smile, then tried to drag him from my side. She failed, but I still remember the scheming light in her eyes. Now that I know she was pregnant with Justin’s spawn, her behavior made far more sense than mild jealousy. No legalese would stop a pregnant woman with a marriage glint in her eyes.
I was outmatched.
“Like I said, she will have little to do with the child once it is weaned.”
Poor delusional fool. Despite what he might think, they would share an emotional connection through their child. For all that he was hailed as a political genius, he showed little sense when it came to his personal life.
I was an excellent example.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” I blurted out. No sense in dragging our relationship through its final funeral dirge. Justin and I might not have been a grand romance, but I had trusted him with my heart. It proved to have been a bad, but not irrevocable, mistake. After he left, I planned to crawl back into bed and stay there for the next month, or until Oss came to haul me out.
“Wren, be reasonable.”
“I’ve lost my reason along with my heart. Just leave.” I lacked the spark of true fury. He had stolen my fire.
Justin straightened his waistcoat, then brushed imaginary dust off the shoulder of his bespoke suit with a flick of his lean fingers. His outfit probably cost more than my building. I forced my attention to the cobweb trailing across the corner of my parlor window, and away from memories of what else those skilled, elegant digits could do. He was too handsome for my shaky resolve.
He cleared his throat. “I can see you aren’t ready to discuss this like civilized gentlemen. When you wish to speak rationally, send me a message.”
“I am being rational. My daggers are still upstairs.” They were a particularly fine set. Last year’s birthday present from Oss.
“Did Octavius teach you how to throw them?” Justin’s voice took on a nervous edge.
