Deliciously Debauched by the Rake by Ann Lethbridge Page A

go. “You left without a second’s thought and it didn’t trouble me one bit. The spark is gone.”
    He cursed under his breath. “Blast it, Elizabeth, say what you mean.”
    They’d always been frank and open. She owed him nothing less now. “When we first met, we couldn’t get enough of each other. We couldn’t bear to be out of each other’s sight. Now we act like an old married couple, taking each other for granted, going our separate ways when it suits us.” She lifted her shoulders in a careless little gesture of dismissal. “There is no excitement left.”
    “Are you saying you are looking for a new lover?” Incredulity filled his voice. She knew how he felt. It had taken her some long hours to become accustomed to the idea.
    “I always liked that about you,” she said with a quick laugh and hoped he couldn’t hear the brittleness beneath the light airy sound. “Your quick understanding.”
    He moved closer, looking down into her eyes. The shadowy room would keep him from seeing the truth. She hoped. “I will not allow this, Elizabeth.”
    The growl in his deep voice, the note of possession, struck a chord low in her belly. Jealousy. It got to her every time. Not that John ever had reason for jealousy. Until now.
    She forced her smile to brighten and raised a brow. “I filled the terms of our contract long ago, Lord Radthorn. You have no hold over me. Or I over you.” She touched his cheek, glad of the kidskin guarding against his warmth, the feel of his skin, yet it still cost her to touch him. Cost her more pain. More sense of loss. “I’m sorry if this comes as a surprise.”
    “Grandmother,” he said. “She said something. How dare she?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I never should have taken you there.”
    “No,” she said coolly. “You should not have.” The hopes for great grandchildren the dear old dowager had expressed with such a look of longing in her face and not a smidgeon of malice had brought Elizabeth up short. Made her look at her life. And the deeper she looked, the more she realized the wrong she was doing. She and John had become too easy with each other. Too comfortable. A man in his position had duties. And he deserved to find love. And a woman he could marry.
    Sadly, she could not be that woman. Not with her tarnished reputation. Their time together had been wonderful, and she had known all this from the start. Over time she’d just forgotten. They’d been so happy.
    She’d even thought about having his child. Making them a family. It wouldn’t be fair. Not to him or the children. So this must be done.
    “You took me to a family party.” The laugh came a little easier. A little harder. The perfect note for one such as she. “The height of dullness. Boring. You have become boring.”
    He recoiled from her cold words, looking at her as if he no longer recognized her, confusion filling his face. “I’ve always treated you with respect, if that is what you mean. If you find that dull—” his voice became hard “—then there is no more to be said. When you find a suitable candidate for your bed, do not hesitate to request a letter of reference, should one be required.”
    If her gentle reasonable John was lashing out, then she had hurt him deeply. Her heart longed to offer comfort. She must not. It would be better for them both if he stayed angry. “You are generous to a fault, as always,” she said with calm practicality, retrieving her overnight valise from the floor. “But it will not be required. I will be staying with Miss Barnhurst until my plans are finalized. You can expect her footman to call for the luggage sometime tomorrow.”
    The door knocker banged.
    “My carriage,” she said calmly.
    John, looking grim, opened the door and bowed her out.
    “No need to see me off,” she said, praying he wouldn’t insist. The tears welling in her throat might not remain dammed for much longer.
    It would be a disaster if he saw tears.
     
    John