Chapter 15
Five Days Later
“Come now, admit it,” Elara goaded as William giggled in her lap. “This was a good idea.”
Constantine pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.
“Never,” he forced out. “You have been nothing but a distraction.”
A most marvelous distraction.
Then, despite his best efforts, Constantine’s smile broke through, and he even laughed as William’s delightful giggle grew louder while Elara continued bouncing him on her knee.
“Are you riding a pony, dear boy?” Elara asked William as she held his waist. “Are you winning the races? Of course you are, you darling rider you.”
William’s giggle was pure joy as Elara started to mimic the sound of horse hooves clopping while she kept bouncing him on her knee.
Constantine had never seen the baby so happy before—or Elara, for that matter—and even though he often told himself that such things were not important, in the past week his heart would somersault every time he saw her laugh or smile.
And, to his surprise, that happened quite a lot.
With William’s nanny and wet nurse, Elara was able to attend the races with Constantine during the day. He had expected many questions about the race and forced his focus onto from the matter at hand, but instead, she had stayed silent and watchful of the crowd they were surrounded by.
At night, Constantine visited the pubs and taverns, while Elara stayed home with William.
He kept his questions subtle as he worked his brother into the discussion, casually inquiring about him.
However, no one had seen him. Thus far, the lead about the derby had led them nowhere.
Today would be the last day of races, and if they did not find anything new, the whole trip would have been a waste of time.
Only... it was not an entire waste of time.
The trip to the country had given Constantine a chance to spend more time not only with William but also with Elara, and he could not help but feel a warm, pleasant sensation every time he saw his nephew and wife interact. He was quite unsure how to handle these new, unfamiliar feelings.
“We should take our leave,” Constantine stated, pushing such thoughts away. “The races will begin within an hour, and we need to ensure we get to our seats.”
Elara looked up from William; some of the mirth in her eyes faded as he reminded her of why they were there in the first place.
“Of course,” she agreed, ceasing the bouncing of her knee.
She turned William around to face her and gave him a kiss on each cheek, then lifted him higher to blow a raspberry on his tummy.
The little boy squealed with delight at the attention, and once again, Constantine felt that twinge in his chest hearing the baby’s happiness.
It was not all that long ago that the only sounds William made were cries.
“We shall be back at our usual time,” Elara said as she placed William in the waiting arms of the wet nurse. “Do not forget to put him down for his nap at noon. He will not want to at first, but if you hum a tune and rub his tummy, he will soon give in to sleep.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the wet nurse replied, curtsying once she had William on her hip.
Constantine felt another twinge move through his chest as William pouted from his wet nurse’s arms and reached for Elara.
“Oh, do not be sad, little lord,” Elara cooed, leaning in to kiss the baby once more. “We shall be home in time for supper.”
William whimpered as Elara stepped back, and Constantine had to look away as an unfamiliar emotion threatened to sweep over him.
“Elara,” he said, his voice chiding as he looked up at the ceiling.
“I am coming,” Elara sighed. He kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the ceiling until he felt her lace her arm through his, then focused on the door as they moved toward it.
“Do you have no feelings at all?” Elara chastised as they left the house.
Constantine scoffed. “Why would I need to? You seem to have enough for us both.”
Elara tsked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “You beastly thing.”
Constantine smirked, but said nothing as they walked arm in arm the short distance to the track. Just as he suspected, many of the other spectators had already arrived and taken to their seats with glasses of lemonade to abate the July heat.
“We should have left sooner,” Constantine scolded as he spotted their usual seats taken.
“You worry too much,” Elara chided, pointing to the stands. “Look, there are two seats in the middle. Close to the front but surrounded by people. They will be perfect.”
Not wanting to admit that she was right, Constantine merely grunted and then led her to the seats.
The moment they took them, Elara snapped open her white lace fan and began to wave it before her face.
Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and he noticed that, even with the low-cut bodice and cupped sleeves of her dress, she was beginning to perspire.
For a moment, he got lost in thought as he watched a bead of sweat trickle so very slowly from behind her ear, down her throat, over her collarbone, and then slip between the tight valley of her breasts.
Suddenly parched, Constantine swallowed and cleared his throat as he shifted in his suddenly overly tight breeches.
What would it be like to follow that bead with my tongue?
“What has you so fixated?”
Elara’s question immediately broke the spell Constantine had fallen under, and his eyes snapped up to hers.
“Nothing,” he immediately murmured, reaching up to tug at the suddenly too-tight collar of his shirt. “It is warmer than usual today, is it not?”
Elara looked at him suspiciously for a moment before she shrugged her shoulders and looked toward the race track, fanning herself harder.
“Certainly so,” she agreed. “I do not know how you men can stand so many layers when it is this warm. It must be so uncomfortable.”
“Indeed,” he muttered.
It was the tightness of his breeches against his pulsing cock that was most uncomfortable, but he was not about to say so.
“Which horse do you fancy?” Constantine asked to change the subject.
“Houndstooth,” she said simply.
There was a brief pause beside her.
“Houndstooth,” Constantine repeated.
“Yes,” Elara confirmed pleasantly.
She heard him draw in a slow breath through his nose before he spoke again, his tone measured in the careful way she had already come to recognize as his attempt at patience.
“Elara, Houndstooth has not placed in his last four outings. His form is poor, his jockey is green, and he is running against Meridian, who has won six of his last seven races. By every reasonable measure, Meridian is the sensible choice.”
Elara considered this for a moment, then turned to him with a gracious smile.
“Then by all means, place your bet on Meridian,” she replied. “I shall place mine on Houndstooth, and we need not quarrel about it at all.”
“I already have, but you are going to lose your money,” he said flatly.
“Perhaps,” she agreed. “But it shall be my money to lose, and I shall lose it quite contentedly, thank you.”
He pressed his lips into a firm line that told her he had several more things to say on the matter, none of which he was going to say.
This woman is going to drive me mad with her stubbornness.
“In any case, we have a few minutes before the races are to start,” Constantine stated, needing a moment to adjust himself. “I shall go to the refreshment table and get us some lemonade.”
“Oh, please do, thank you,” Elara readily replied.
He hated how much her look of appreciation filled him with glee, and he merely grunted as he got to his feet and walked away.
The moment he was away from her, Constantine drew in a deep breath and subtly tugged at the waistband of his breeches, hoping to shift his erection and give himself some relief. It did not.
He stifled a groan as he buttoned his jacket, using it to hide the proof of his sudden spurt of desire, and walked to the refreshment table.
He paid for three glasses of lemonade and ice, drinking one down the moment it was poured.
The cold drink helped with the rising heat in his body, but did nothing to tame his desire.
Growing grumpier by the second, he scowled as he set the empty glass down and swiped the other two glasses from the table.
Constantine was halfway back to his seat when he looked up and immediately stilled.
An oily black wave of discontent washed over his already fouled mood when he saw Elara smiling and laughing with an older man in a black coat and top hat who had taken his seat.
He, too, seemed quite entertained with whatever they were talking about.
Suddenly eager to find out what was so funny, Constantine moved quickly, not caring that the lemonade sloshed over the rim of the glasses and splashed on his hands.
“Good day,” Constantine abruptly greeted them as he reached them.
Elara and the older man quickly stopped their conversation and turned to look at him. Constantine tried to smooth his frown into a look of casual indifference, but found it impossible. Elara, however, seemed to find it amusing as she took in his expression and retorted with a rather impish smile.
“I should have asked you to obtain three glasses so our new friend here might be refreshed as well,” Elara chipperly stated as she reached for a glass.
Static poured into Constantine’s fingers as hers stroked gently along his knuckles, urging him to let the glass go. With effort, he released the glass, but made no move to offer the other to the stranger sitting in his seat.
“New friend, you say?” Constantine asked. He studied the man closely as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip of the cool, sweet, tart drink. It gave him enough of a jolt to allow him to give the man a casual smile.
“Your charming wife was telling me all about you, Your Grace,” the man stated, smiling cheerily as he rose from the seat.