Page 74 of What a Lord Wants

“Here.” She gave the stick to the boy. “You try it now.”

He took the stick, then poked at the toy boat just as she’d done to keep it sailing along the edge of the lake. As it slipped away, he ran in little hopping steps after it, his round face beaming.

Eve couldn’t help a faint smile, despite the unease still roiling inside her. Perhaps she would be a good mother, after all.

Although Dom’s reaction to the baby might be a different matter entirely.

Her shoulders sagged. What would he say when he discovered she was with child, a child that would have an immense impact on his art? What kind of havoc would a baby wreck on his current plans?

Oh, the timing couldn’t be worse!

All of his attentions and energies were focused on the new painting for the special exhibition. So much so that he was often exhausted when he returned home. Sometimes she didn’t see him at all. Some nights he came home so late that he went straight to sleep in his room, only to be up and gone before she rose for breakfast. Or he didn’t come home at all, preferring to stay at the studio after working late into the night.

A baby’s presence might change all of that. Would Dom expect his art to come before his child, as well?

“Well, if it isn’t London’s newest marchioness.” A cloying voice called out from behind her. “The lovely Lady Ellsworth.”

Icy fingers played down her spine as Eve turned to face the woman—

Constance.

Dom’s former model strolled slowly toward her with a knowing smile playing at her lips. She reminded Eve of a cat who’d stumbled across a mouse.

“I do hope you remember me,” Constance purred as she lowered her parasol. “Although we only met once.”

“Of course I remember.”

Good Lord, how could she have ever forgotten? And not only the fight with Dom that Eve had stumbled into, but also the paintings of her that had littered the studio. She acknowledged coldly, “Miss Devereaux.”

“Your Ladyship.” Constance gave a mockingly shallow curtsy. “How is the marquess?” A contemptuous tone underscored her voice, but her smile remained firmly fixed. “Or should I say Vincenzo?”

Eve refused to rise to that bait. “Ellsworth is well, thank you.”

She plucked an invisible piece of lint from her sleeve. “You’ll be certain to tell him that I asked about him, won’t you?”

The devil she would. “Of course.”

“And that I’m still waiting for what he owes me.”

“My husband owes you nothing.” She almost managed to keep the animosity from her voice. “Please leave us alone.”

Constance slid an assessing gaze over Eve from head to foot, then gave a little laugh at her disheveled appearance, made worse by being mussed from the examination and her face most likely lacking all color. Surely, she had dark circles under puffy eyes from not sleeping well the last few weeks. Even though she now knew why her stomach was rolling and pitching like the deck of a ship, she couldn’t stop it. In fact, seeing Constance again made it worse.

“Well, aren’t you just the devoted little wife, coming to his rescue,” she mused, her green eyes gleaming wickedly. “I will admit that I was completely stunned to hear that Dom had married you.” She waved her gloved hand in the air, although most likely to draw Eve’s attention to the diamond and citrine gold rings she wore over it. “I don’t mean because he stooped low enough to marry a tradesman’s daughter.”

“Of course not,” Eve drawled icily at the insult. A tradesman…an interesting way to describe the owner of the largest sole proprietorship in the British empire.

“Dom’s always been so nonconforming that way. What I mean is that he married you after you’d posed for him, when he’d never even considered such a thing with his other models.” She paused thoughtfully. “Except for Elena, of course.Herhe loved.”

Eve’s heart skipped. Dom had…loved another woman?

“She’s the closest he’s come to finding his muse and the only woman he’s ever been willing to put before his art.”

Jealousy slapped her hard. “You’re lying.”

“If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself…unless you’re afraid of what he might be hiding from you. He might have married you, but that doesn’t mean he’s shared all his secrets.”

Eve said nothing, struggling to keep the burning anguish inside her from showing on her face.