Shoving those worries aside, Constance forced her attention back to their conversation. “I’m not involved with someone.”
“You’d like to be,” Caro guessed.
“Absolutely not. While I recognize the signs of a budding aw-awareness…” Her tongue stuttered over the word. “I don’t want it to grow into a full-blown attraction. We all know how that ends. Besides, he’s entirely unsuitable.”
“Well now, I’m intrigued.” Caro wiggled her eyebrows.
Constance forged on ahead. “Neither of you ever experienced the ups and downs of relationships as I have. You both seem to have this innate ability to nip inconvenient romantic interest in the bud. Whereas I jump in without thinking. I act impetuously, believing in the moment that because my motives and feelings are pure, all will be well.” Anxious energy made her stomach churn, and she feared she might vomit as her mind offered up a parade of memories from the many, many times she’d chosen foolishly in the past. “Please, teach me how to dampen this feeling before I act, well, like myself, and let it run away with my head. Again.”
Caro shifted on the couch with a wince. “For one thing, I think you’re being awfully hard on yourself. As you said, at the time, your intentions were good. To answer your question… I had my reasons for avoiding romantic entanglements and acted accordingly with every man I met until Dorian. He was impossible to ignore, despite being unsuitable and inconvenient, because he was therightman. Might I ask, who has caught your attention after so long?”
Constance picked at a dry bit of skin on her cuticle, refusing to look at her friends. “His name isn’t important. Although, let the record state, it’s not James.” When they laughed, she smiled, still avoiding their eyes. “Besides, I’m asking for ways to ensure I never think of him in that way again. I won’t let history repeat itself—Can you imagine?”
If she were to give in to those fizzy feelings from Southwyn’s study, what followed after would be so horribly familiar.She’d think of him constantly, obsessing over whether he returned her regard. Then, once she’d charmed her way close to him, she would realize he wasn’t what she wanted after all, and she’d look like a fool all over again. Except this time, it would be with an earl, of all things, as well as Dorian’s oldest friend.
Mortification rang clear in the sound she made—an almost-laugh that wobbled when she shook her head emphatically. “It would be courting disaster. Besides, there’s no one worse matched for him than me.” As bitter as the words tasted on her tongue, they were the truth. “Caro, your advice is to remember my reasons for avoiding romance. What say you, Hattie? Any words of wisdom?”
Hattie wrinkled her nose. She resembled one of those little dogs they sometimes spied in Mayfair that wheezed with each breath, whose eyes bulged when they grew excited. As the comparison wasn’t terribly flattering to her cousin, Constance kept the thought to herself.
Hattie finally shrugged. “I don’t trust men; thus, I don’t want one. What Caro said bears repeating. We are different people, Connie. I avoid the fickle beasts entirely. Caro made up perfect men and wrote about them until a real-life man proved to be her own personal hero. You’re not like us. You have always been this effervescent, beautiful creature, eagerly sharing your enthusiasm with everyone around you. Until Walter, you craved romance, so you sought it out. If you no longer want a relationship, I understand. However, something you said just now needs addressing.”
Hattie held their attention. “You said there’s no one worse matched for him than you. And that, my dear, is incorrect. Your generous nature and open heart would be a gift to anyone. If he’s too foolish to value that, it’s a reflection on him. Not you. Now, if you recognize that he’s either unavailable orundesirable as a partner, then you’re right to distance yourself. Every time he crosses your mind, tell yourself why he’s not right for you, then go do something else.”
The kindness and calm confidence with which Hattie spoke soothed parts of Constance that she hadn’t realized were tender. “Thank you. That’s very helpful. Both of you.”
Again, the memory of Lord Southwyn, rumpled and exhausted, sprawling on the carpet of his study rose in her mind. Instead of smiling or sinking into the details of how he’d looked, she silently listed all the reasons she didn’t want him.He’s engaged to someone else. He is so stuffy; you gave him a nickname to reflect that.Of course, he relaxed rather deliciously. In fact, it wasn’t until he loosened his death grip on manners and propriety that this damned attraction flared to life.
She caught herself, then shook her head to clear it. Clearly, this technique required practice to master. Since seeing Southwyn with his kitten, he’d lingered in her mind the way favorite passages of the books she read over and over again stuck with her, evoking predictable feelings each time. But, like details of a novel faded over time, this would too.
“Just in case, if you see me making an arse of myself around a man, please distract me for my own good.” Plucking a tiny cake from the tray, Constance ate it but didn’t register the flavor at all. Instead, she counted the number of times she chewed before she might swallow it without risk of choking.
Anything to distract her from the very real possibility of her cousins watching her act the fool in front of Lord Southwyn, then clapping their hands over her mouth before it ran away with her. As usual. She was convinced the direct path between her brain and mouth never touched on whatever part of her housed common sense or self-preservation.
“Is this a new experience for you, darling?” Caro asked.
“What? An impossible attraction?”
“An unrequited attraction.” Caro’s voice was gentle.
Comprehension dawned. Did that explain it? “Is that why this is so uncomfortable?” She sagged into her chair. “For the first time, I want a man I can’t have.” Another tiny cake plucked from the tray beside her. This one tasted of raspberry preserves. A positive sign, she acknowledged, as the rest of her brain mulled over Caro’s revelation. “That makes me sound a bit like a spoiled brat, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t interpret it that way.” Caro shifted to squeeze Constance’s hand.
Hattie leaned in and laid her hand atop both of theirs. “It’s not your fault you’re rather relentlessly charming and attractive.”
They laughed, and Constance welcomed a flood of relief. Asking her cousins for help had definitely been the correct decision. Sometimes, the only way to understand something so close to you was to bring the problem to those you trust. She squeezed their hands in silent gratitude, then let them go.
Hattie said, “For all your flights of fancy and short-lived interests, you have an uncanny ability to stay rooted in reality. You don’t reach beyond what it possible, therefore you rarely fail to achieve your desires. Perhaps this is the first time someone beyond that sphere has piqued your interest. New situations, especially emotional ones, are uncomfortable. Unfortunately, my love, discomfort is part of life.”
“Hattie is correct, as usual. Since you don’t intend to pursue this mystery gentleman, we will be sympathetic ears as you navigate the novel experience of not getting what you want,” Caro teased.
“I don’t particularly like how this all makes me sound,but it rings true. And I feel better after telling you about this temporary madness. I’ll deal with it as you’ve advised. What would I do without you two?”
As Caro reached for the teapot from the cart and refilled each of their cups, Hattie protested, “I can get that.”
“I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” Caro’s mild rebuke lost credibility with the grimace she made as she wedged a small pillow behind her back, attempting to find a comfortable position. “Although if this child doesn’t stop climbing up under my ribs, I might resign myself to my bedchamber and make everyone wait on me. Lord, I’m ready to carry him or heroutsidemy body.” At last, she seemed to find a position that didn’t exacerbate all the things making her irritable, then returned her focus to Constance. “May I ask you something, darling?”
“Of course.” Steam from the tea, bright with notes of citrus, tickled her nose, and Constance took a moment to enjoy the aroma. One benefit of her cousin becoming a duchess was exceptional tea. Life above the bookshop was comfortable, all things considered. But the tea her parents bought couldn’t compare to this. Constance took a remarkably short time after Caro’s marriage to grow accustomed to such luxuries.
