His Perfect Hellion by Amanda Mariel

Author:Amanda Mariel
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-04-20T22:47:39.601116+00:00

CHAPTER 8

“Y ou what?” Seth asked as he stared at Constantine, unable to believe the words he’d heard. Evidently, his mind was playing games because well-bred young ladies did not suggest such things.

But then neither did they welcome men into their bedchambers and allow them to stay well into the night. He brushed a hand through his hair. Hell, the sun would soon be rising.

Constantine pushed up on one elbow, bringing her gaze more in line with his. “I am proposing to be your mistress.”

His heart thumped, anger igniting a searing fire within him. Did she think him the sort to ruin young ladies, then refuse marriage? Or did she believe herself too good for him?

Seth peered at her, his pride stinging. He never would have touched her if he hadn’t planned to wed her. Hell, he chose her almost from the first moment he laid eyes on her.

Seth swallowed back his indignation and reached out to cup her cheek in his hand. “I want more than a mistress.”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I’m afraid I do not follow.”

He sat up, pulling her into his lap and holding her tight. She deserved better. “Constantine, I want you for my wife.”

Her eyes rounded, then she shook her head with vigor. “No. It’s out of the question.”

His chest squeezed at the rejection. “You think me not good enough.” He blew out a breathe, then continued. “Perhaps you are right. I am a rogue with a nasty reputation. My title is the only reason I’m still allowed in many drawing rooms, and I have no family to recommend me. All the same, I would do everything in my power to be a good husband. My character is not so bad as the ton makes it out to be. The Duke and Duchess can attest to that. Lady Celia and the Dowager, too.”

“No.” Constantine shook her head with even more conviction. “It is I who am not worthy of you. My life has been spent tucked away in the country without the benefit of proper training and lessons.” Moisture gathered in her eyes, but no tears fell. “I cannot cross-stitch, neither do I play the pianoforte. I haven’t a clue about hosting parties and am mostly inept at household management as our housekeeper has always handled such things.”

“None of that matters.”

“Of course it does. For Heaven’s sake, you are a Marquess!” She blew out a frustrated breathe as she slid from his lap and paced across the plush carpeting of the bedchamber. “You require a lady that excels in all such things. One who can care for your home and your guests.” Her head drooped as she exhaled. “I would be an embarrassment.”

“Never!” He strode toward her. “Your father is an earl, and your mother was a Viscount’s daughter. Your pedigree is beyond reproach.” He captured her hands in his. “You are a lady. And you are the only one I want.”

“You cannot be serious.” She attempted to pull her hands free, but he held fast to them.

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