Free The Wickedest Lord Alive by Christina Brooke Page A

complexion. If he’d taken her away with him that night, she’d have given him sons gladly. Or at least, willingly.
    Could he grow to love her? As their history stood, it seemed beyond the realm of possibility.
    But children … Children . She’d never let herself even think of having babies to love.
    He sighed. “Two sons. That’s all I ask.”
    She choked. “All?”
    “If we are very lucky, it won’t take more than a few years of, ah, cohabitation.”
    Oh, dear Lord. She hardly trusted her own voice. “And after that?” she managed.
    He waved a hand. “Naturally, you may go your own way. You might please to remain at my country estate. You could even purchase a home of your own in Little Thurston if you wished. You and I would lead separate lives.”
    She marveled at him. This sort of existence was utterly opposed to the interested involvement, the sense of community and happiness she’d found in Little Thurston.
    The thought made her heart give a hard ache.
    She rose. “My lord, I can only suggest that you are perhaps a little mad. None of these prospects entices me in the least.”
    He stood also. “I am sorry to hear that. Most ladies would jump at the chance to be a marchioness.”
    Perhaps most ladies would, but not Lizzie. She’d lived without love or kindness while surrounded by luxury. She did not value material wealth.
    Suddenly, she knew she could never be happy with Steyne unless he loved her. Because she very much feared she was falling in love with him.
    “Why didn’t you have me declared dead?” she said with suppressed violence. “Find a willing female to bear your children like a docile broodmare? I’m sure there must be any number of them lining up for the honor.”
    He watched her for the longest time, until she wanted to scream at him to speak.
    “Because I want you,” he said finally. “No one else will do.”
    That stunning pronouncement made her flush with ire. “You mock me.”
    “I assure you I do not.”
    Unconvinced, she paced away from him, then turned. “Will you expose me? If you tell my neighbors I’m your wife, I’ll deny all memory of it.”
    “I have no desire to be a nine days’ wonder in this village or anywhere else,” said Steyne. “Do you think I wish anyone to know I was forced to wed you? Not to mention airing my mother’s dirty laundry.”
    Of course not. His pride was as great as hers.
    He paused. “This is what I propose: My kinsman, the Duke of Montford is holding a house party at Harcourt. I want you to come. You may bring your little friend if you like. What’s her name?”
    “Miss Beauchamp,” Lizzie said. “And I don’t see what you can hope to accomplish by inviting me to a house party.”
    “Why, Miss Allbright,” said Lord Steyne with a saturnine curl of his lips. “Only that I mean to seduce you.”
    His answer flustered her so much, she could barely find the words to reply. In a stifled tone, she said, “But—but you will introduce me as your marchioness. I’ll have no choice in the matter, anyway.”
    “As I said, I am hardly in favor of making a scandal with the story of our marriage.”
    He still held her fan. He tapped it on his thigh as he considered. “Only your father and my mother knew that Lady Alexandra Simmons and the Marquis of Steyne were wed that day. Your father is not here to dispute any story we care to tell. My mother was exiled to St. Petersburg a few years ago and need not trouble us. The parson has been eliminated also.”
    She froze. “Good gracious, you did not have him killed!”
    “Of course not,” said Steyne, visibly annoyed. “My mother paid him off. I believe he was offered a lucrative post in the Americas.”
    “Oh.”
    She wondered about Lady Steyne, but did not know how to question him. Had he sent his own mother away?
    Seeming unaware of the questions he’d raised in her mind, he continued, “Your identity will be revealed at the house party at the appropriate juncture. We will continue