Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman by Lorraine Heath Page B

when he’d returned home that they’d learned he was not the young man who had left.
    Her heart had broken all over again. How many times could a mother’s heart break? An infinite number. Each time her children were hurt. She’d long ago accepted the pain of it, as well as the stoicism to never let it show. It was a mother’s lot in life.
    “Are you going to insist that he marry Miss Dawson?” Leo asked her now, drawing her back to the present moment and her current lover.
    “You grant me more power than I possess. When it comes to my sons, they will do as they will. Still, I don’t see that he has much of a choice. The one thing he does not relish is disappointing me, so I might have a bit of leverage. I have no doubt that John is his son. I can already see the shape of his smile on his mouth. It would be unconscionable for him not to marry the girl.”
    “Stephen’s father didn’t marry you.”
    Leo, with his artist’s eye, had seen what she’d tried so valiantly not to reveal—that Lynnford was Stephen’s father. “Because I was married at the time and well you know it. I never should have confessed to you about my indiscretions.”
    “I’d already guessed them, my love, as well as your feelings for the man. I still long for the day when you look upon me as you do Lynnford whenever he is near.”
    Her heart nearly shattered. He asked so little of her, only this. Why could she not love him with the intensity that she did the Earl of Lynnford? Especially as it was obvious to one and all that Lynnford adored his wife. He’d not been married when he was Tessa’s lover. By the time she was once again without a husband, he’d been spoken for—and loyal beyond measure to his wife.
    Leo held out his hand to her. “Come and join me. Allow me to erase the sadness from your eyes.”
    She could never resist him. Rising gracefully, she glided over to the bed, crawled onto it, nestled against Leo, and caressed his cheek. “I do love you, you know.”
    “But not as much as you do others.”
    She opened her mouth to protest and he touched his finger to her lips. “I do not resent the love you have for your sons and now your grandsons. I would never seek to usurp their places in your heart. I cannot even resent the lover of your youth, because at least through him you knew what it was to be loved. But he is not here now. Tell me you do not think of him when you are in my arms.”
    “Never does he cross my mind when I am here with you.”
    “Liar,” he whispered softly, and proceeded to ensure the words she’d spoken took on a measure of truth.

Chapter 4

    A s Stephen headed into his bedchamber—exhausted from chasing down and finally recapturing his idiot horse, then stubbornly galloping back to the manor while every beat of the hooves jarred his leg and sharpened the pain—he heard the baby cry out. Immediately he paused, his hand on the doorknob.
    Before this afternoon, Stephen had enjoyed having the entire wing to himself. Then he’d asked that Mercy be given a room near him. He didn’t know if she was aware that he was across the hall. In spite of the fact that he’d been wearing a greatcoat, which he’d discarded downstairs, he was wet and chilled. His hair clung to his head, the water dripped onto his shoulders. He was hardly presentable.
    The babe’s wails rose in crescendo. There could be no doubt he had a good set of lungs. Why was he caterwauling? Why didn’t he cease his screaming?
    Stephen crossed the hallway and knocked on the door. No one else was in this wing to be disturbed, and sleep never came easily to him. He could ignore the crying, but he was concerned for Mercy. He felt a need to do something to assist her.
    Lie to everyone else, you fool, but not to yourself. You simply welcome the excuse to see her again in spite of your disheveled state.
    The crying stopped, but now his curiosity was piqued beyond measure. Even though he was wet, shivering, and in need of a good dose of