“Well, if I might possibly already have three avenues for distributing it, I shall give it more serious consideration.”
“I found Scotland to be beautiful,” Althea said, lightly as though she could sense some tension building between the two men.
Perhaps Kathryn should have come alone, but Althea had suggested the duke accompany her, and it seemed inappropriate not to extend the invitation to him. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to explain that her main reason for coming was to see Griff, and having Kingsland beside her reminded her that it shouldn’t be. She wasn’t even certain she should consider Griff a friend. Except a friend wouldn’t have done with her what he had. They’d been the actions of a lover. Oddly, she didn’t feel guilty about the liberties she’d allowed him to take. If anything, she wanted him to take them again. Only then, she probably would feel guilty, even if Wilhelmina had advised her that she shouldn’t.
The conversation drifted to specific aspects of Scotland, various areas they’d each visited. She’d never been and couldn’t contribute anything. Other discussions were taking place, as was the practice when one dined. She listened with half an ear as Lavinia Trewlove, wife to Finn, spoke with Griff about the horses her husband bred and about the home they provided for orphans. All the while Kathryn gave the impression she was giving her full attention to the youngest Trewlove, who had married the Earl of Rosemont. Fancy owned a bookshop, had met her future husband there, and so it seemed natural to discuss the latest novels she’d read.
Yet in reality, she only longed for a moment alone with Griff.
It finally came, following dinner, after they were all assembled in the billiards room. Apparently the Trewloves didn’t hold with the tradition of gents going off for a bit of port while ladies sipped tea. They’d all gathered in the large room that even the billiards table couldn’t dominate. It was spacious with various sitting areas and a fireplace at either end. Paned doors left open to allow in a bit of breeze led out onto the terrace.
The Duke of Thornley had challenged the Duke of Kingsland to a game of billiards. They’d removed their jackets and rolled up their shirtsleeves. She didn’t think either of them could have taken the game more seriously if the fate of a nation was involved, so all conversation had to take place a good distance away from the dueling dukes so as not to interfere with their concentration.
When she saw Griff slip outside, apparently without catching anyone’s attention, she made her excuses to Althea and Selena, Aiden Trewlove’s wife, claiming to need just a short respite for some fresh air. Neither offered to join her, perhaps because they sensed she wanted some time alone. Or perhaps she’d been wrong, and they had noticed Griff slipping out and guessed her true purpose. Although, neither knew what had recently transpired, and Althea would see her visiting with her brother as a completely innocent act, just as it had been during all the early years that she’d known her.
She spotted him at the end of the terrace, away from any direct light, bent slightly, his elbows resting on the stone wall as he gazed out into the gardens that were only shadows in the darkness. Her heart shouldn’t have sped up with each step that brought her nearer to him.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said quietly, without even looking at her, without confirming it was her. But then, perhaps he was as attuned to her presence as she was to his.
“You just left.” She didn’t bother to clarify, was rather certain that her abrupt tone indicated she wasn’t referring to his just now leaving the billiards room.
“I needed to get back to my business. The roads couldn’t be traveled by coach.”
“Knew that before dawn, did you?”
He released a long, frustrated sigh, straightened, and faced her. “You make a handsome couple.”
If he thought she was going to move on to another topic of conversation, he was sadly mistaken. “You could at least have bidden me farewell.”
“If I’d stayed, Lady Kathryn, you’d have not left there untouched.”
His emphasis on the untouched let her know the exact type of touching that would have taken place. Far more involved, far more intimate than what already had. Deep, penetrating. She’d have not left there a virgin. He would have ruined her. Yet for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine she would have felt ruined.
Nor was she quite certain that Kingsland would have cared. He did not seem the possessive sort. Certainly, he gave her attention when they were together and sent her trinkets when they weren’t, but she’d never had the sense that anything she did would spark jealousy in him. They would have a very calm, cool marriage.
Whereas Griff seemed capable of making every emotion in her burn with a fiery passion. Especially her anger.
“I found your departure rude and inappreciative. If not for my gentle care, you might have died.”
“The wound wasn’t that bad.”
With a quickness that surprised him, she leapt forward and made a swiping motion at his side. He jerked back and brought his arm up to protect it before he realized that her movement had been a feint. Even in the encroaching darkness, she could sense his displeased scowl. “For a wound that wasn’t that bad, it seems to still be tender and perhaps healing,” she said.
“Coming at me wasn’t very sporting of you.”
She wasn’t in the mood to be sporting. “I was hurt, Griff. Hurt to wake up and find you gone.” Not to mention disappointed and saddened.
“Kathryn—”
“Not from the bed. That I understood. But from the cottage. I woke up and imagined us taking a walk along the shore.”
“Nothing good would have come from my staying.”
“Nothing good came from your leaving.”
Turning back toward the garden, he once more crossed his forearms on the stone. “A great deal of good came from my leaving. You just don’t realize how much.”
“Then, tell me.”
“You’re being difficult, Lady Kathryn. I already told you.”
“So you left without bothering to wake me in order to protect my reputation when no one was about to declare my reputation sullied.”
“Someone would have whispered it. A footman striving to impress a chambermaid. A coachman wanting more pay.”
“I was alone in the cottage with a man. By itself that was enough for scandal. Anything else would have been speculation.”
“I have known speculation to ruin lives.”
She slammed her eyes closed. People had speculated that he and his brother were complicit in their father’s conspiracy. While tonight it seemed that he’d been welcomed back into the fold, it was only into this tiny pleat. And even then, she noted it didn’t seem to be an entirely comfortable fit for all involved.
After moving up to the wall, she set her own forearms atop it, felt the grit beneath her silken skin and suspected his was too tough to be bothered by it. Although at one time, it probably hadn’t been. “Why do you suppose it is that women are expected to remain pure while men are not?”
His response was only silence.
“Lady Wilhelmina speculates that it’s because men make the rules. Although, I think it’s women who made this particular one, out of fear that without it they would succumb to the lure of pleasure.”
He didn’t say anything. Perhaps he didn’t want to get into a debate regarding how it was that Society had evolved in such a way that different rules applied to men than to women. But then, it wasn’t her reason for coming out here to confront him. “Once again, Griff, I felt ill-used. Even though it was the most glorious ill-using I shall ever experience.”
He released a long-suffering sigh. “Kathryn—”
“Your leaving made what had passed between us seem tawdry, as though you were ashamed of having been with me.”
“God, no.” Turning, he cradled her face as though it were a fledging bird that had fallen from its nest and he wanted to see it safely placed back where it belonged. “But I knew I’d taken actions I shouldn’t have . . . I”—he moved his h
ands away from her and held them up before her—“I should never have touched you. You know what these have done. They should never be anywhere near you.”
“What poppycock.” Taking one, she pressed a kiss to his scarred palm. “They saved your brother. They saved me.”
They studied each other as though in no rush to carry on with their lives, until he finally said, “I should have woken you. I should have told you I was leaving, but I thought it would make it harder to go, to return to London without you.”
“So you took the easy way.”
“Leaving you has never been easy, Kathryn.” He released a harsh laugh. “Nothing about you has ever been easy.”
She should not have been so pleased by that confession.
“Kathryn?”
The deep voice in the darkness startled her, but when she glanced over her shoulder, she discovered the Duke of Kingsland wasn’t as near as she’d feared, certainly not near enough to have heard their conversation. She didn’t think. Desperately hoped not.
She’d felt Griff stiffen, preparing himself to come to her defense if needed. Releasing his hand, she pivoted to face Kingsland. “Your Grace.”
“I thought it time we took our leave.”
“Did you beat Thornley?”
“Of course. I am not known to lose at anything.”
“Doesn’t that grow boring?” Griff asked. “Always winning? I’ve found the occasional loss makes the next win all the sweeter.”
“An interesting hypothesis. However, not one I care to test.” He extended his arm. “Kathryn?”
She turned to Griff. “I’m glad to know you’re doing well. I wish you the best with your club.” Then she walked up to Kingsland and wound her arm around his. “Shall we?”
He escorted her inside, and they gave their farewells to everyone. When she reached Althea, she hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much for including us in your family gathering.”
“You’re the sister I never had.”
From there, she followed Kingsland out to the drive where his coach waited. It wasn’t until they settled inside, sitting opposite each other, the vehicle rumbling over the street, that he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me that you need to marry before you’re five and twenty in order to gain an inheritance?”
It was not what she’d expected him to ask. She’d thought he might inquire about her time on the terrace with Griff. She wondered when and where he’d learned the information. Obviously tonight, probably from Griff. “I didn’t want you to feel the pressure of the deadline, to think you had to marry me before you had decided that you wanted me for your wife.”
“If we didn’t marry before you turned twenty-five?”
“A part of me thought it might be a bit freeing.” She looked out the window. “It’s begun to seem a trivial matter on which to marry.”
“I’ve known lords to marry for much more trivial matters than an inheritance.”
“You don’t even know what it entails.”
“It doesn’t matter. By its very nature, an inheritance implies that it is something of worth, whether monetary or sentimental. It is something you should have. I’ll speak with your father in the next few days.”
For a second there, it felt like her heart had stopped beating. After all these years of yearning for the cottage to be her own, she wasn’t certain she’d ever fully accepted that it would be. He’d been a last resort. Perhaps she hadn’t told him about the conditions because she hadn’t wanted them to influence her decision to marry him, had tried to pretend they didn’t exist. She’d wanted to marry him because she desired him. But she didn’t know if she’d ever grow accustomed to his arrogance, his entitlement, and his belief that losing wasn’t for him. “It’s been nearly a year since you called out my name, but the reality is that with all the businesses you’ve had to see to, we’ve had very little time to truly get to know each other.”
“I know enough to deduce you’d be an excellent duchess. Besides, I mentioned when I announced your name that we would marry before the next Season ended. I’m one for keeping my word. And in doing so, we’ll both benefit.”
“Yes, I suppose we shall.” She should have been excited beyond measure by the prospect. Instead, she felt another sort of clock was ticking, one that involved Mr. Griffith Stanwick.
Chapter 19
Griff didn’t have to look at the clock on the mantel to know that it was a little after two, because his club had gone still and quiet. Even in his office, sitting at his desk, going over his accounts, he could hear the hum of activity, feel the shimmering thrill of interest returned, and sense the moment when two lonely souls realized that for a few hours at least, the loneliness would cease to matter. For a lucky few, it might dissipate forever.
While he’d never considered his club to be a matchmaking service that would lead members to the ringing of wedding bells, he suspected one couple might be headed in that direction—if the daughter of an earl could convince her family to accept the son of a tradesman, who was in trade himself and thriving at it.
That was always the key: getting the family to accept the one chosen. Now with his past and being owner of this scandalous club, he’d taken marriage completely off the table. Not that it mattered. As he’d watched Kingsland escort Kathryn from the terrace earlier in the evening, the tightening in his chest until he could scarcely draw in a breath had confirmed that his heart had been claimed, and he doubted it would ever be untethered and free enough to be given to another.
Footsteps echoed along the hallway: Gertie delivering the night’s take. As they went silent, he glanced up. Only it wasn’t Gertie at all. At the vision in green hovering in the doorway, he shot to his feet. “What are you doing here? We’re closed up for the night.”
Lady Kathryn Lambert smiled a saucy smile, one filled with temptation and promise, the sort the women who visited here were hesitant to give the first night but were more willing to offer by the third or fourth, once they were comfortable with all the flirtation that had been absent from their lives until that point. But from her, it came naturally, a turning up at the corners of her mouth, a flash of white. “I know. Billy granted me entrance.” She held up a long length of brass. “And Gertie gave me a key. I wondered if you could direct me to the red room.”
Her words came like a punch to the gut. Four chambers—green, blue, red, pink—on this floor had been designed and designated to provide privacy for a couple. A small sofa. A table with decanters, cheeses, and fruit. A bed. For couples to explore compatibility or have a single night of needs met. The rooms had been used less often than he’d anticipated. But then he’d learned that companionship, needs, and desires took all forms. “What are you doing here, Lady Kathryn?”
She reached into her reticule and removed a stack of cards bound by ribbon. “I want to play cards with you.”
“The cardroom is on the floor below.”
“A closed door is required for the type of game I wish to play.”
Through his mind flashed images of wagers made that resulted in clothing being removed. “Lady Kathryn”—did his voice have to sound so rough and raw?—“you’re playing a dangerous game here.”
“I’m well aware.” She gave him a look that was pure seductress. “I’m willing to find the room on my own.”
Her gaze never left his as she turned, and when she disappeared from his sight her message was clear: I dare you to follow me.
Hell and damnation if he didn’t do exactly that, with such haste that he failed to clear his desk completely, which resulted in slamming his thigh against the hard corner and grounding out a harsh curse. He’d have a bruise there in the morning, but he suspected he was going to have deeper bruises, ones that couldn’t be seen, when he was done with this night, done with her.
Emerging into the hallway, he came to an abrupt stop and watched as she slipped the brass into a keyhole. Taking a few seconds, he strained to hear any noises below, any hint of activity, and detected none. Staff had alread
y finished their tasks and gone. Gertie had left without bringing him the night’s tallies, but they would remain safe. Billy would have locked everything up tight when he departed. So it was only the two of them, he and Kathryn. If that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, he didn’t know what was.
“Not that one,” he said. She glanced over at him, and he wished he had it within him not to give her what she wanted. “This way.”
He led her in the opposite direction, to a corner room beside his office. No key was needed as it wasn’t locked, didn’t require privacy. Or at least it hadn’t before tonight. He swung open the door and waited for her to precede him inside, her skirts brushing up against his legs, and he could have sworn she’d come that close to him intentionally, to make him drunk on her orange and cinnamon fragrance. He’d taken it in with the same care he did the smoke of a cheroot, for the sole purpose of savoring it.
After adjusting the glow of gaslight in the sconce so he could see her more clearly but not enough to chase off all the shadows, he closed the door behind him, the hushed snick reverberating between the walls like a rifle report. Or at least it had sounded that way to him. She seemed not to notice as she wandered through the room, taking in everything. The bed, the wardrobe, the bedside table, the washstand, the small sideboard with its decanters, the single dark brown padded wingback chair in front of the fireplace.
She picked up the book from the bedside table, and he hoped she didn’t recognize that the faded and frayed ribbon marking his place had once been used to tie off her plait. He’d carried it in his waistcoat pocket until it had become threadbare from his constant rubbing of it and he’d realized if he kept it there, it would eventually disintegrate into nothing. So he’d begun using it to mark his place, to greet him at the end of a long night when he finally settled in for a few minutes of escape.
“It looks more lived in than I would have expected of a chamber designed for assignations.” After returning the book to its spot, she glanced back at him. “You reside here.”
He hadn’t wanted her in a room where others had sinned. “What are you doing here, Lady Kathryn?”
Scoundrel of My Heart EPB Page 20