He hadn't an answer for that, which didn't surprise her. He'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't enjoyed himself.
"Tell me, Griffin," she drawled, rather amused by his increasing discomfort, "would you approve of a man kissing Corinna for half an hour if he had no intention of marrying her?"
He couldn't say that without lying, either, of course. To his credit, he didn't. "No, I wouldn't approve. But she's my sister."
"Well, I think I deserve the same respect as your sister." Rising from the sofa, she reached for her reticule. "So unless you change your mind and declare your intentions, I trust you won't ever kiss me again."
Her lips still felt tender from tonight's kisses, and she wanted more. But she wasn't worried she wouldn't get them. Another of Griffin's flaws was resisting change, but he'd come around eventually.
She figured he'd be kissing her inside of a week.
He jumped to avoid her as she headed for the door. Reaching it, she placed her hand on the knob and glanced over her shoulder. "Will you be attending Lady Hammersmithe's ball tomorrow night?"
"I'm planning to bring Corinna."
Deliberately she licked her lips, watching for a reaction, hiding a smile when she saw that reaction in his eyes. "I'll see you there, then," she practically purred as she opened the door and waltzed out.
FIFTY-FOUR
THE ATMOSPHERE in Hampstead was very thick that Friday evening. So thick it seemed an effort to breathe. Just drawing air in and out of his lungs seemed to take everything Sean had.
Sitting opposite Deirdre in his dining room, he shoved his plate across the mahogany table. "I'm not hungry. I haven't eaten in three days, and I'm not hungry."
His sister knew what he'd lost. When he'd asked her where he could find the claddagh necklace, she hadn't asked why. "It's sorry I am for you, Sean," she said softly, her eyes flooded with sympathy.
He didn't want sympathy—he wanted the calendar flipped back to April, to before he'd received that damned letter from Hamilton. Shifting his gaze away, he stared at a blue wall. "I'm not the one who has to go back to a husband I despise."
"At least the man I love isn't forbidden to me entirely, as Corinna is to you. I'll give John a son and then I'll move in with Daniel."
Skeptical, he looked back to her. "You'd leave your child?"
Her chin in the air was so familiar. "Rather than stay with John, yes."
"If you say so," he murmured. But he knew she wouldn't. Once she had a son or a daughter, she'd change her mind. Hamilton would banish Deirdre and their offspring to the countryside, and she'd live there, bored out of her mind, for the rest of her life.
And even should she find the will to leave her child, would Daniel Raleigh wait a year or two or more while she made a son with Hamilton?
He doubted that as well.
"Two letters, sir." A footman walked in, holding them out. "One for you and one for the lady."
With its large red seal, Sean's letter looked important. As the servant left, he cracked the wax and unfolded the paper.
"Who is it from?" Deirdre asked.
"A solicitor on Queen Street in Cheapside. A Mr. Peregrine Peabody. He's wishing to meet with me Monday at noon."
"Regarding what?"
"He doesn't say." Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. "I assume I will finally learn who's been poking around in my business, and what he's managed to trump up to ruin me or put me in prison. And what it's going to take to prove him wrong." He glanced at the folded paper Deirdre held, recognizing the scrawl on the outside as the same on the damned letter he'd received back in April. "What does your husband want now? His uncle isn't in the grave even half a day. Is the rotter summoning you to his bed already?"
She broke the seal and scanned it. "He isn't, no. Not yet. He says I'm to attend the reading of the late Lord Lincolnshire's will on Monday. He's sending a carriage to fetch me at eleven o'clock."
"Where is the reading being held?"
"John doesn't say. Just that the carriage will come in the morning." She glanced up from the paper, looking nervous. "Remember that ball Lord Lincolnshire took us to? What if someone who was there recognizes me as the woman introduced as your wife?"
Sean reached to lay his hand over hers on the table. "I don't expect the Billingsgates' guests will be at the reading, Deirdre. It will likely be just you and Hamilton and that lawyer named Lawless."
"I'm not sure that lawyer ever got a good look at me. We were never formally introduced."
"You've nothing to worry yourself about, then." He patted her hand. "Even should Lawless recall seeing you at Lincolnshire House, you are Hamilton's wife. Lincolnshire's niece by marriage. It's not unbelievable you'd be at the man's deathbed."
"That's right." He saw her relax a little. "I wish you could come with me, though."
"I wish I could, too," he said dryly. "I also wasn't formally introduced, but I've no doubt Lawless saw me. And should he not remember me, I'm certain Hamilton would be happy to remind him. And in any case, I cannot go with you because I'll be busy Monday at that time."
Feeling yet more incapable of breathing than earlier, he heaved a sigh. The atmosphere seemed to be getting even thicker.
"The way my luck has been going lately," he ground out, "I'll probably be busy getting arrested."
WHEN RACHAEL and her siblings returned home from the reception at Lincolnshire House, their butler handed a folded paper to her brother. "A letter, my lord."
With its large red seal, it looked important. "What does it say?" Rachael asked as the butler closed the door.
Pausing in the foyer, Noah raised the letter to his forehead. "Hmm. I'm getting a vision. I think it says—"
"Noah." She whacked him with her reticule, feeling giddy. She was in love, and she was going to get married. Griffin was going to be kissing her inside of a week. Maybe tomorrow night. "Open it, you fool."
"If you insist." He broke the seal and scanned down the page. "It's from a solicitor in Cheapside, Mr. Lawrence Lawless. He wants us to attend the reading of Lord Lincolnshire's will Monday at noon."
"Us?" Elizabeth slid off her pelisse. "What do you mean by us?"
"All of us." Shrugging, Noah looked up. "It's addressed to all four of us."
FIFTY-FIVE
"YOU'RE LATE," Juliana said when Griffin arrived at Lady Hammersmithe's ball Saturday night.
"Fashionably late," he corrected, spotting Rachael talking to her sisters. She was wearing another clingy dress, a sapphire blue one with a wide, low neckline and tiny sleeves that left her shoulders and most of her arms bare.
"Where's Corinna?"
"Still in the doldrums." He looked back to Juliana. "You can blame her for making me fashionable. She refused to leave the house."
"Yet you came anyway," she said, appearing speculative. "Why is that?"
He wasn't about to tell her he'd come to see Rachael. Juliana meddled enough without him encouraging her. "Am I not allowed to socialize without an agenda?" Since she looked even more speculative, he changed the subject. "I expect tonight's buzz is still all about yesterday's revelations?"
"Mr. Delaney, you mean? Actually, no. The chitchat tonight is about how everyone's been invited to the reading of Lord Lincolnshire's will on Monday."
"Everyone?"
"When James and I arrived home last night, there was a letter waiting. Alexandra and Tristan got one, too. As did every other household in Mayfair, if one can believe the talk."
"I've never heard of such a thing."
"The reading is going to be a shocking squeeze." Juliana sounded thrilled at the prospect. "Lord Lincolnshire cannot have left bequests to everyone, so I wonder what could be the reason."
"You'll know soon enough." He looked over toward Rachael, only to find she was gone. "Have you seen Noah or any of his sisters?"
"Last I noticed, Rachael was talking to Claire and Elizabeth." She glanced around. "Oh, Rachael's dancing now. And Noah just walked into the refreshment room." That speculative
look came into her eyes again. "Why do you ask?"
"I was just wondering if they received a letter, too," he said casually. "I'll go ask Noah."
Leaving Juliana, he ambled toward the refreshment room—then went right past it. And around to the far side of the ballroom, where she couldn't see him. He couldn't care less whether his cousins had received a letter. But Rachael dancing…
Well, that was another matter altogether.
He shifted uneasily, watching the rake Rachael was dancing with pull her closer, watching him run a hand slowly down the back of her clingy dress. When the music ended and she curtsied to the rake, Griffin moved quickly to block her path off the dance floor.
"What are you doing, Rachael?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing?"
"Why are you dancing?"
"I'm at a ball, if you haven't noticed. What else should I be doing but dancing?"
"I don't recollect you dancing at a ball in the last two seasons, except with me. You told me you didn't like men pawing you."
"Well, I thought I didn't, at the time." Watching him, she licked her lips. "But a certain experience last night changed my mind."
"I didn't paw you last night," he protested, fighting an urge to paw her now. He'd wanted to paw her last night as well, but he'd managed to control himself then, too. She was Rachael, for God's sake. He'd known her since she was in the cradle. She'd asked only for him to kiss her, and he wouldn't have presumed to do anything more.
"Maybe I wanted you to paw me," she suggested. "It crossed my mind that might have been enjoyable."
Clenching his jaw, he looked away. Bloody hell, she'd accused him of disrespecting her and all he'd done was kiss her for half an hour. After she'd asked. Now he wasn't allowed to kiss her again unless he proposed first, but it was all right if another man pawed her?
In the distance, Juliana caught his eye. Standing in a clutch of jabbering chatterboxes, she glanced between him and Rachael and raised a speculative brow.
"Instead of dancing," he gritted out, "why don't you just gossip like every other female?"
Rachael followed his gaze. "I'm not Juliana, if you haven't noticed."
Now, that he'd noticed. He'd never once been tempted to stick his tongue in his sister's mouth.
"I prefer dancing to gossiping," Rachael informed him archly. "Especially now, since I'm looking for a husband."
"You're doing what?"
"You heard me. Since you don't want to marry me, I've decided to find someone who's ready to make me his wife." The lips he'd kissed last night curved into a satisfied smile. "Stop gaping, Griffin. You look better with your mouth closed. Not that I care what you look like anymore," she added, and sailed off.
Three minutes later Griffin was still standing there, and Rachael was dancing with another man. Another rake. This one seemed to be whispering secrets in her ear.
Ten minutes later, another rake was holding her too close.
Ten minutes after that, another rake was making her laugh. Had Griffin ever made her laugh? With him, that was, not at him?
It stuck in his gizzard, seeing her in the arms of other men. When she came off the dance floor for the third time, he pulled her aside again. "Why all of a sudden do you want to get married?"
"I'm twenty-four years old, Griffin, and I wasted two seasons chasing down my father. I'll be on the shelf if I don't marry soon. That's what decided me."
"You don't just decide to find a husband, Rachael."
"Odd statement, coming from you. Is that not what you've decided for Corinna?"
"I've changed my mind. I'm thinking it would be better to wait until she falls in love. I'd suggest you do the same yourself."
"I have fallen in love," she informed him. "But since it took twenty-four years to happen, I don't think I can afford to wait for it to happen another time. Your mouth is open again," she added before she turned in a swish of clingy skirts and walked away.
Not a minute later, she was dancing once more.
Griffin's mouth remained open for quite a while.
She loved him? Hardly a word passed her lips that didn't disparage him. And if she loved him, why the devil was she dancing with yet another rake? One with the gall to put a hand on her luscious derrière, no less? Just for a split second, but Griffin had seen it. He wanted to strangle the man.
Juliana sauntered by. "Close your mouth, Griffin," she said as she passed, her voice filled with speculation. She turned to walk backward, a smug smile emerging as she studied him. "You look jealous," she said before turning again and walking away.
Now he wanted to strangle her.
Was he jealous? Could he possibly love Rachael back? He'd thought what he felt for her was just lust, but mere lust shouldn't incite jealousy. It was easy enough to find someone to satisfy lust, after all. Women did tend to throw themselves at him.
And if this was what jealousy felt like, he didn't care for the emotion one bit.
By the time Rachael curtsied to the rake who'd touched her luscious derrière, Griffin was standing next to her. "You must have misunderstood me yesterday, Rachael."
She turned to him. "How is that?"
"It isn't that I don't want to marry you. I just don't want to marry you now. I'm not ready to take on a wife. At the moment, I've too many other responsibilities. I'm quite concerned about Corinna. Before I even think about settling down myself, I need to concentrate on getting her married. To a man she loves."
"I'll tell you what you need to concentrate on, Griffin, and that's growing up. You're thirty years old. For God's sake, Noah's growing up, and he's only twenty-two. If I wait until you're ready, I'll be waiting forever."
"I'm not asking for forever, Rachael. Just until Corinna's married."
"Corinna won't be married for another year at least. The season's more than half over, and she hasn't shown interest in any man yet. In fact, your sister seems rather wed to her art career, which means she may not ever marry. Have you considered that?"
He hadn't, and the thought struck terror in his heart.
And Rachael wasn't finished. "If I agree to wait until she's married, I could end up a shriveled old lady, and you'll still be asking for time." She shook her beautiful head. "Thank you for the offer, but no."
"But I love you."
He couldn't believe those words had come out of his mouth, but even more than that, he couldn't believe her response.
"I know that, Griffin. But I want children. I'm going to find someone who's willing to marry me while I can still bear them." She rose to her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you at Lincolnshire's solicitor's office on Monday."
FIFTY-SIX
WHEN SEAN arrived in Queen Street on Monday at noon, he found it clogged with traffic and pedestrians. Having never seen any street in Cheapside so busy, he considered himself lucky to find a place to leave his curricle in a mews only two blocks away.
Walking back, he mentally rehearsed what he might say in the meeting. At the bottom of the three steps that led to the solicitor's office, he stopped to check the plaque mounted by the building's door to make sure he was in the right place.
88 QUEEN STREET
PEABODY & LAWLESS
ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW
Mr. Peregrine Peabody being the solicitor he was supposed to meet, he nodded to himself and started up.
Then stopped again, ignoring a steady stream of people pushing past him up the steps.
Peabody and Lawless?
Lincolnshire's solicitor?
His first thought was to slink away. A summons issued by Lincolnshire's solicitor was potentially much worse than being summoned to discuss supposedly nefarious business dealings. He knew all his business dealings were on the up-and-up, after all. No matter who accused him of what, he ought to be able to prove his innocence, even if doing so might prove a grand piece of work. When he'd told Deirdre he might be busy getting arrested today, he hadn't really meant it.
But had impersonating Lincolnshire
been an actual crime?
Had he been summoned here to be arrested?
"Sean!" Coming up the steps, Deirdre looked astonished to see him. "What are you doing here?"
"I wish I knew." He gestured toward the plaque. "These are Peregrine Peabody's offices, too."
Another woman mounting the steps did a double take, then turned to face him. "Mr. Delaney, isn't it? You have quite the nerve showing up here. Hmmph," she added, pushing through the door, no doubt to spread the news that he'd arrived.
There was nothing for it. There would be no slinking away. "Come along," he muttered, taking Deirdre's arm and steeling himself to face the fire.
But instead he came face-to-face with Corinna.
AT FIRST, Corinna thought Sean was a figment of her imagination. She wasn't ever supposed to see him again, and he especially didn't belong here. But then their gazes met and held, convincing her he was real, and something disturbing shuddered through her.
A mixture of love and anguish and regret.
Seeing him made her happy and sad and excited and apprehensive, all in a single instant. Her hand went up to touch the necklace he'd given her, but it wasn't there, of course. She could wear it only in her room at night, where no one would see it and ask questions.
She started toward him.
"You need to come inside now, Corinna." Griffin appeared, giving her no choice as he took her arm and began weaving her through the crowded corridor. "Mr. Lawless is about to begin, and you've been commanded to sit in the front."
She looked back, but Sean was already lost in the crowd. She could only hope he was following.
When Griffin had told her that everyone they knew had been asked to attend the reading, she'd figured he'd been exaggerating. She'd had no concept of just how many people would show up. They crammed the large chamber where the reading was to be held and spilled out into the corridor, filling the building all the way back to the front door. With all the bodies in the way, she and Griffin barely managed to squeeze into the room.
Art of Temptation (Regency Chase Family Series, Book 3) Page 29