Page 109 of To Pleasure a Prince
He chose his words carefully. “Because he doesn’t love you as he should.”
She took that in, then frowned. “I suppose you think he can’t possibly love me because I’m a bastard.”
His heart stopped. “Who told you such a lie? Didhetell you that? Did that damned ass—”
“Nobody told me. I-I figured it out on my own.” Tears welled in her eyes. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
“Of course not. You’re the legitimate daughter of the fifth Viscount Draker.”
She brushed the tears away. “I’m not an idiot, you know. Uncle George…I-I mean, the prince…was always here, and it seemed natural that he would be. But of course it wasn’t natural at all. That’s why I figured I must be as much a bastard as you.”
“No, you—” He stopped short. “You know about me?”
She managed a smile. It dug at his heart. “Only because of that awful argument you had with the prince before he and Mama went away.”
He scowled. “I didn’t think you’d heard that.”
“Only some of it. Then I asked my governess about it, and she said I wasn’t to talk about you being the prince’s son to anyone, especially you, for it would hurt your feelings. She said it was a secret. And…and when I asked if I was Uncle George’s daughter, she said ‘Certainly not,’ and I believed her.”
“She was right.”
“Marcus,” she said, the tone far too old for a young girl, “since I’ve been in society, I’ve heard nothing but tales of the prince and his many mistresses. And I can’t ever remember a time when he wasn’t here—”
“He wasn’t here the year you were born, and that’s good enough for me. It was good enough for Father, too.”
She bit her lower lip. “But Icouldbe the prince’s child, couldn’t I? Mother took lots of trips to London. He didn’t have to be at Castlemaine to conceive me.”
“ ‘Conceive’ indeed—how do you know about that sort of thing, damn it?”
At least she had the good grace to blush. “I asked Lady Iversley. I couldn’t believe that my governess was right—she said babies were made when a man and a woman slept in the same bed. And since I used to climb into bed with you when I got scared as a little girl, and I didn’t have any babies, I knew she was lying.”
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “I never dreamed your governess was telling you anything about it at all, or I would have dismissed her.”
Louisa looked sad. “Do you really think I’d have been better prepared for life if I’d been completely ignorant?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“That’s the trouble with you, Marcus. You think you’re protecting me. But really you’re just killing me. A little bit at a time. Cursing me to stay in this house forever—” A sob caught in her throat. “I swear I’ll die if I have to stay here for the next year without even Regina for female company.”
I swear I’ll die,accompanied by tears, had been a common ploy of Louisa’s in the past, but this time it wounded him. Deeply. Because it too closely echoed what Regina had said.
And for the first time, he really understood what they meant. He might just die himself if he had to stay here one more minute without Regina.
He choked back the bile rising in his throat. “All right, angel. I’ll take you back to London. We’ll work something out.”
He thought that would end the conversation, that she would leap up, kiss him, and run off to pack while he sat here trying to figure out a way to get his wife back that didn’t involve making too many concessions he couldn’t abide.
Instead, Louisa just sat staring at him. “You’re only saying that to distract me, because you don’t want to answer my question.”
He blinked. “What question?”
“Could I be the prince’s by-blow?”
He started to say “no,” then caught himself.Do you really think I’d have been better prepared for life if I’d been completely ignorant?
With a sigh, he took her hand. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He hesitated, but the voices of Regina and the Iversleys clamored in his ear, demanding that she know everything. “But I think the prince believes it.”
Her hand tightened on his. “Is that why you asked if Simon had told me? Because he’s the prince’s friend?”
