The Sins of Lord Easterbrook by Madeline Hunter

Author:Madeline Hunter
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: Historical
ISBN: 9780440243960
Publisher: Dell
Published: 2009-01-26T13:00:00+00:00

Christian sat in his favorite chair in his chamber. The drapes had been pulled to the day’s sun. His eyes were closed too. He was not meditating, much as he would like to be. Instead he debated what to do about Leona.

The conundrum had occupied his mind since parting from her two days ago. It even intruded on his sleep. Worse, until he settled an ill ease that had entered him in Hayden’s house, he did not trust himself to see her again.

It was one thing to plan the seduction of a woman, and another matter to succeed in seducing the woman. And she had always been that, the woman, against whom he judged all others and measured even his levels of desire.

Seduction was driven by impulses and needs that have no logic, no concern for consequences. Normally there were no implications for him other than a temporary affair of mutual erotic satisfaction with an experienced woman like Mrs. Napier. Which meant that he had no recent experience with his current situation.

He could not deny that despite his indifference to notions of sin, guilt, and propriety, despite his firm belief that social rules strangled more than civilized, a night in Leona’s bed had led to some unexpected moral considerations once the sated bliss passed. Her own hesitation to repeat the sin had only pricked at his conscience all the more.

He had been ruthless with her. That was all there was to it. He had been determined to have her, and he had succeeded. He had used pleasure to conquer her own good sense and her own care for her reputation.

The primitive man did not mind at all, and even preened with contentment. The civilized man knew it was time to make an accounting of the damage.

He was supposed to offer marriage now. That the notion did not send him into the depths of melancholy was a wonder in itself.

It probably had something to do with seeing that baby. The visit to Alexia had reminded him of nature’s cycle, of time passing, of the life unlived. Alexia and Hayden’s joy had been almost painful to see, and his own soul felt like a void in comparison. With his desire at low tide, his seduction of Leona had appeared selfish while he was in that house on Hill Street.

Then there was the baby herself. A perfectly normal child, from what he could tell. If the heightened sensibility had been in the child, his own sensibility should have felt it. Surely he would have sensed something . Maybe it did not have to be inherited by the next generation. Perhaps . . .

If he proposed, would Leona accept? She had all but warned him off that notion when she said in Pennington’s garden that he was not her true destiny. Hayden’s reports of her fame among Eastern traders indicated that the destiny she anticipated was not one of growing old sitting in a Mayfair drawing room.

The horrible truth was that marrying her would be even more selfish than seducing her.

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