The Seduction Of Lady Constance (Returning Grooms #1)

Chapter 2

The drawing room at Riverston House was filled with an uneasy quiet, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Lady Constance Rivers sat perched on the edge of a settee, her hands folded tightly in her lap as her parents stood before her. She could feel the tension emanating from them, an unspoken desperation that had filled the air ever since her broken engagement. Her mother’s anxious fidgeting and her father’s furrowed brow told her that this conversation would not be a pleasant one.

“Constance, darling,” Lady Riverston began, her tone too light and careful to be genuine. She had taken to using such placating tones lately, as though she feared her daughter might shatter under the weight of a single harsh word. “Your father and I have been giving much thought to our current situation. It’s… not ideal, to say the least.”

Constance looked up, meeting her mother’s troubled gaze with a calmness she did not entirely feel. “I am well aware of that, Mama,” she replied. “You needn’t sugarcoat the matter.”

Lady Riverston glanced toward her husband, who cleared his throat before speaking, his voice gruff and strained. “Constance, it is past time for us to discuss your future,” Lord Riverston said, pacing before the fireplace. His hands were clasped behind his back, the strain evident in the deepening lines of his face. “The plain truth of the matter is that our finances are not what they once were.” He paused, as though weighing how much to reveal, then shook his head and continued. “In fact, they are worse than you realize.”

Constance stiffened. This was not the first time her father had alluded to financial difficulties, but the weight behind his words now suggested something far more dire. “How much worse?” she asked, her voice low.

“Bad enough,” he replied with a humorless chuckle. “Our expenses have long exceeded our income, and without the prospect of an advantageous marriage, there is little hope of remedying the situation.” He stopped pacing, his gaze settling on her. “You must understand, Constance, that your engagement to Lord Ramson was not merely a matter of social elevation. It was a lifeline.”

Constance’s pulse quickened, her earlier calmness evaporating as the implications became clear. “You mean to say that I am expected to marry solely for the sake of your debts?” she asked, unable to mask the edge in her tone.

Lady Riverston took a step forward, reaching out as though to soothe her daughter. “It is not so simple as that, my dear,” she said. “You have always known that one day you would need to make a good match—every girl of your station is aware of her duty.” Her voice softened, imploring. “We do not wish to place this burden upon you, but—”

“But you are placing it upon me, all the same,” Constance interjected, the heat of anger rising in her chest. She stood abruptly, walking to the window and gazing out at the gray sky. “I was ruined in the eyes of society because of Sylvester’s cruelty. Who would have me now? Who could possibly be foolish enough to consider me a suitable wife?”

Lord Riverston’s jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “There are gentlemen, Constance. Men who are more practical than idealistic—who would not turn away from a match that offers certain… incentives.” His tone became sterner, a reminder of his own diminishing patience. “The world is not fair, nor is it kind. We must do what is necessary to survive.”

Constance’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She knew the truth in her father’s words, even as they stung. The aristocracy had little sympathy for a woman who had once been on the brink of a brilliant match only to have it shattered at the altar of public humiliation. To the ton, she was spoiled goods—a gamble no man would take without the assurance of substantial gain.

“You speak as though I have a choice,” she said quietly, turning back to face them. “And yet, it feels as though I am being sold.”

“Constance,” Lady Riverston breathed, a note of hurt in her voice. “We want what is best for you. But you must understand… we are not without desperation ourselves.” Her eyes pleaded with her daughter to see reason, to set aside her pride.

“There is nothing left in the coffers, Constance,” Lord Riverston admitted, the words coming out like a confession. “And if we do not act soon, it will not be just our status we lose, but our very home.” He hesitated, then added grimly, “I will not see this family cast out onto the streets.”

A silence followed, thick and suffocating. Constance felt the weight of their fears settling onto her shoulders, the crushing inevitability of her duty pressing down upon her. She had thought herself free of society’s demands by retreating from its judgment, but now she saw clearly that she had only traded one prison for another. Her family’s needs had bound her just as tightly as any scandal could have.

“I see,” she said at last, her voice devoid of emotion. “Very well, then. If it is a marriage you seek, I shall do my part.” Her words tasted bitter, and her heart clenched with a mixture of resignation and defiance. She would find a way to endure this—somehow.

But even as she uttered the promise, a voice inside her whispered that she was not truly surrendering. This was merely the opening move in a game she had not yet begun to play. And if she was to be forced into this, then perhaps, just perhaps, she might find a way to bend the rules to her favor. If she had to marry, it would not be a choice made from desperation alone. It would be on her terms, or not at all.

And so, the first sparks of determination ignited within her. If society demanded that she rise from her disgrace, then rise she would—but not as the helpless girl they remembered. She would rise as a woman who had nothing left to lose and everything to gain.