Page 18 of My Best Friend’s Earl (Bluestocking Booksellers #2)

“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 her outside my 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.

Caro canted her head, studying her. “What is it you find so appealing about this man? If we introduced you to someone else with those qualities, we might give you a quick escape from this discomfort.”

Constance grinned. “I do love how we’re speaking of him as if he’s a blister. If only I could place a plaster over this attraction and ignore it until it’s gone.”

The question of what she found appealing about Southwyn wasn’t one she needed to ponder for long.

A warmth began in her chest, warning of how dangerous it could be to speak his virtues aloud, even as she did exactly that.

“I know it sounds silly, but when he’s messy and unbathed, he smells nice.

I want to bury my face in the side of his neck and see where the scent is strongest.” Like citrus and herbs, his cologne brought to mind drinking lemonade in an herb garden on a warm day.

“When he’s not wearing a cravat, there are a few hairs that curl up into that notch at the base of his throat.

For some reason, I find those hairs fascinating.

” She swallowed a mouthful of tea, relishing the comfort of its heat traveling to her belly.

“Also, when he’s swearing, he makes me laugh.

It’s like a window into the realest part of him.

Getting a peek at the emotions beneath the logic.

” Her cousins wore expressions she couldn’t decipher.

Hattie raised a brow. “When have you seen him in his shirtsleeves, without a cravat?”

“You like the way he curses?” Caro asked, equally bewildered.

Constance grinned. “I realize it’s not an attribute we usually value in a man, but he truly has the most creative language. As to his state of undress, that’s a long story. Nothing untoward happened, though.”

The duchess studied her in a way Connie recognized all too well.

“Caro, you’re looking at me like I’m a misbehaving character, or troublesome plot device in one of your books. If you need something to entertain you, perhaps we could choose a date for that small dinner party you agreed to host.”

Caro conceded the point with a shrug. “I simply find all this fascinating. That’s all. And thank you for the reminder. I’d forgotten.”

Constance didn’t believe her. Judging by her carefully bland manner, Hattie didn’t either.

If they knew Caro—and they did—she’d treat this like a character exercise until it made sense.

Unfortunately, there was no making sense of Constance’s hopeless attraction to a man so far beyond her status as to be laughable.

Especially when she refused to divulge his identity.

Hattie spoke. “What you’re saying is, all we need to do is visit the docks, find a foul-mouthed fellow in need of some soap, and you’ll be right as rain. Then you can bring him to Caro’s dinner and we will all toast the beginning of your relationship and the end of Althea’s.”

Constance choked on the sip of tea she’d been swallowing and coughed out a sound somewhere between a wheeze and a laugh. It faded swiftly to silence when Dorian entered the room, followed closely by Lord Southwyn.