More Than a Rogue

by Sophie Barnes

  “I don’t believe Mary considers herself a victim of Caleb’s high-handedness.”

  “Of course not. Those two are madly in love with each other, which I do believe makes every difference.”

  “And you don’t think such a match is possible for you?” He sounded curious, as if he was genuinely interested in figuring her out.

  “No. At least not with the gentleman in question, who happens to be you, in case you’d forgotten.”

  He looked momentarily uncomfortable. “Right.” He stood and glanced at the door. “I’m going to see about sending Caleb a note. Stay here. I won’t be long.”

  And then he was gone, leaving Emily with the uncanny feeling that he’d been more bothered than he had let on by her last comment. Drat it all. She’d been horribly unkind, which wasn’t in her nature. But her nerves had been frayed by the kiss, by her mother, aunt, and sister witnessing it, and by Lord Griffin’s gentlemanly manners in the wake of it all.

  The kiss had been a mistake. But it was too late for regrets now. It had happened and it had not been the marvelous experience she had hoped for. Instead, it had confirmed a huge lapse in judgment on her part, and as much as she wished to forget it, doing so would be impossible when Lord Griffin refused to leave her side.

  3

  There was no logical reason for Griffin to be put out by Miss Howard’s insistence that he and she could not fall in love with each other – that she, more specifically, could not love him. But her words had speared their way through him nevertheless and caused a deep ache to form in the middle of his chest. Coupled with her low rating of their kiss, he rather felt as if he’d been kicked in the ballocks.

  When he’d tried to explain that their kiss had been chaste, that he could most certainly make her feel as if fireworks were exploding all around her, she’d asked him to demonstrate, and he’d been tempted. Incredibly so. But he’d also had the clarity to acknowledge that doing so would be tremendously reckless. For while she presented herself as an unmarriageable spinster whose time for romance had passed, the fact remained that she was still young, only six and twenty years old, with the sort of beauty most men would have trouble resisting.

  Marriage was possible for her, no matter how much she wished to deny it. And if the right man came along and proposed, she’d regret squandering her firsts on Griffin. Which meant he would have to keep his distance, escort her to Clearview, and leave for Vienna immediately after. This business tonight had made him realize that he’d overstayed his visit in England. It was time to leave, to put Miss Howard out of his mind and return to the life which had, until now, been both comfortable and rewarding.

  So he penned a quick note to Caleb, bought a ticket for the same coach she would be taking, and returned to the room where Miss Howard waited. “There’s still five hours until the carriage departs, so I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring a bedchamber for you upstairs. It will give you a chance to sleep for a while.”

  “That is…” She pressed her lips together and to his surprise her eyes conveyed a mixture of guilt and gratitude. “Thank you. After what I said to you earlier, I hardly deserve your kindness.”

  He stared at her, both impressed and unsettled by her ability to set pride aside and address her mistake, for it suggested he’d not quite managed to hide the effect of her insult and that she believed he needed an apology. “You’ve had a tumultuous evening, Miss Howard.”

  “That’s not an excuse.”

  He sighed. “You spoke the truth and I respect that.”

  “Even so, I would like to apologize.” She bit her lip and furrowed her brow. “You’re perfectly nice and—”

  “Apology accepted,” he said, preventing her from making matters worse by pointing out all his wonderful qualities – none of which would cause her to fall in love with him. Not that he wanted her to, because he most certainly didn’t. “Now about the bedchamber. Shall I show you up?”

  She stood and gave him a nod. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He went to help her rise and saw that his jacket collar was flipped up at the back. Instinctively, he began to adjust it, his knuckles grazing the back of her neck. She shuddered slightly and moved away from his touch. “Sorry,” he murmured, completely overwrought by her sudden disinterest in him when his own awareness of her only seemed to be growing.

  Hell.

  He was in absolute hell.

  Because he’d kissed her and liked it in spite of its chasteness, and now, damn it all, he wanted more. Except she clearly didn’t, even though she’d invited him to kiss her again. But that had obviously been to appease her own curiosity and not because she actually wanted him. Indeed, she hadn’t seemed to care one way or the other that he had kissed her. For all he knew, Mr. Bale’s lips would have served just as well from an educational standpoint. Which made him want to hit something. Like, Mr. Bale. Even though he knew damn well that the man did not deserve it.

  Frustrated, Griffin opened the dining room door and escorted Miss Howard toward the stairs. They climbed them together until they reached the bedchamber she’d been allotted.

  “Where will you be sleeping?” she asked as they paused outside her door.

  “Right there.” He jutted his chin toward the room next to hers. “Lock your door, Miss Howard, and shout if you need me.”

  She licked her lips then, which gave an entirely different meaning to what he’d just said. Although only in his own depraved mind, he wagered. “Good night,” he told her swiftly, before he did something stupid, like give her a more thorough lesson in kissing.

  “Good night.” She slipped inside her room before additional words could pass between them and closed the door behind her with a click.

  Griffin blew out a breath. He could finally escape the charged sensations assailing his body while he was near her. His muscles, which had been strained since he’d seen her with Mr. Bale in the Camberly garden, could relax at last. But as Griffin climbed into bed and laid his head on the pillow, closed his eyes and prepared for sleep, he could not rid his mind of Miss Howard. She was like a lighthouse blazing brightly in the night, impossible for him to ignore.

  When Emily woke a few hours later, it took her a second to figure out where she was. But then she spotted her discarded ball gown, hung across the back of a chair, and it all came tumbling back with the force of an oncoming carriage. Oh God. Lord Griffin had kissed her and now he meant to escort her to Clearview.

  Taking a long, deep breath, she tossed the counterpane aside, flung her legs over the edge of the bed, and stood. His jacket was visible beneath her gown, the dark wool a stark contrast to the smooth silk. Masculine versus feminine.

  She shook her head, reminding herself there was no time for fanciful notions. Only practicality would serve her well in this instance. So she dressed with crisp movements and put on his jacket to cover herself, even though it was much too wide across the shoulders and the sleeves so long they hid her fingers.

  A knock sounded at her door, followed by a low, “Miss Howard?”

  Emily’s pulse quickened in response to Lord Griffin’s voice. She took a deep breath and swung the door open. And froze. Because there he was, exactly as she’d expected, except he was somehow more masculine, more roguish, more tempting than ever before.

  Emily swallowed. It had to do with the fact that he hadn’t shaved, which lent a surprisingly attractive ruggedness to him. She couldn’t help but stare.

  He did not seem to notice. “Forgive the intrusion but I feared you might still be sleeping, and our coach departs in less than one hour.”

  “Do we have time for a quick breakfast?”

  “I expect so.” He gave her a once over and nodded as if she’d just passed inspection. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She grabbed her reticule and followed him into the hallway. “Do you know if anyone came looking for us?”

  He shook his head as they started down the stairs. “No. They did not.” He glanced at her briefly. “I’m sorry.”

 
“You need not be.” They reached the foyer and she stopped there to add, “It does not surprise me is what I mean to say. And since I am not surprised, I am not disappointed either. Truth is, I’m rather glad to avoid an argument with my parents and to just be on my way. It simplifies matters.”

  “It also suggests that they’re not especially worried about you, which ought to be of some concern, don’t you think?”

  She scoffed and crossed her arms. “I’m the disappointing daughter – the one who cannot be saved.” Lord Griffin raised an eyebrow at this and opened his mouth as if to comment, but Emily cut him off by adding, “My mother may have glimpsed a brief chance at doing so last night, but she will have realized that attempting to make us marry because of a mere kiss would have been a futile endeavor. After discussing matters with my father, I’m sure she will have acknowledged that the best way forward is to let me go. As far away from them as possible so my indiscretion in the Camberly garden can quickly be forgotten.”

  “For the sake of your sister,” he murmured.

  “Precisely.” Emily’s stomach grumbled, reminding her that she was really quite hungry. “Perhaps we should eat something now?”

  He nodded and led the way to the same supper room they’d used the evening before. Their breakfast was simple, consisting of toast, ham, and cheese, which they washed down with tea.

  “No milk or sugar?” Emily asked when Griffin refrained from adding either.

  “I’m not particularly fond of sweet drinks and milk just dilutes the flavor.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “I quite agree.”

  He glanced at her cup and the edge of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t expect to have that in common.” His expression turned pensive. “You might actually be the first woman I’ve met who takes her tea plainly.”

  Emily gave him a rueful look. “My mother used to feed me cakes because she believed I’d do better on the marriage mart if I had some meat on my bones.”

  “Which is probably true to some extent. I don’t care for scrawniness myself.”

  Emily snorted. “Oh, there was never any danger of me ending up at that end of the spectrum.” She sobered as she thought back on the years when her mother had fretted over her future. “As the eldest daughter, I was something of an experiment.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been very trying for you.”

  She nodded. By the time her second season had begun, she’d doubled in size. “Clearview was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  A horn sounded, causing Lord Griffin to glance at the door. “Time to go.” He stood and offered Emily his hand.

  Heat darted up her arm as soon as she made contact with him, and for a second she was tempted to pull away as if scorched. But her refusal to let him see how easily he affected her compelled her to close her fingers around his instead.

  There.

  Not an impossible feat.

  She raised her gaze to his and sucked in a breath. The way he looked at her caused her legs to grow weak and her belly to flutter.

  A knowing smile tugged at his lips, and a gleam appeared in his eyes. Emily realized in that instant that he was aware of her visceral response to his touch, but before she could think of something to say, some means by which to distract from the truth, he was leading her out to the courtyard and to their awaiting coach.

  As the last passengers to board, Griffin and Miss Howard were forced to take the remaining seats, which were on the same bench, closest to the door. “I’ll sit in the middle,” he told her when he handed her up.

  Standing with one foot on the step and the other in the doorway of the coach, she leaned forward to peer inside and then glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I think you will have more space if I take the middle.”

  “That is irrelevant.”

  “But—”

  “I will sit in the middle.” Because the alternative would be to let her sit pressed up against a scruffy looking fellow whom Griffin didn’t trust to sit shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful woman.

  “Very well,” Miss Howard agreed. “But only because I do not wish to trample on your good intentions.”

  She disappeared into the coach and Griffin followed her inside. He greeted the other passengers, a portly man in a brown suit, an old woman who stared at him through her spectacles, and a young, eager-looking lad. “Good morning,” he said and lowered himself to his designated spot. The scruffy fellow next to him shifted, politely adding more space.

  Griffin thanked him as the door slammed shut. Perhaps he’d misjudged him, but even so, he knew he’d made the right decision by preventing Miss Howard from sitting beside him, for although his manners were good, his odor was not.

  The coach rolled forward with a jolt, and Griffin averted his face from the man beside him in a pointless attempt to ignore the smell of sweat wafting off his person. He smothered a cough and gave his attention to Miss Howard. Perhaps a bit of conversation would distract him.

  “Do you think you would have married if your mother had not been so...” He searched his brain for an appropriate word to describe the woman without causing insult.

  “Domineering?” Miss Howard asked before he could think of one.

  Griffin shrugged, which caused his arm to move against the entire length of her side. She shifted against him, undoubtedly trying to give him more room, but the tight space would not allow it. Instead, her thigh rubbed against his in the most seductive way.

  Christ.

  This was not the time or place for arousal. He tried to focus on what they’d been talking about before she’d drawn his attention to their close proximity with each other. Ah yes. Her mother.

  His ardor cooled with unsurprising swiftness.

  “Yes,” he said, not bothering to contradict her description.

  “Possibly. That is to say, I did have a suitor during my second season, but he lost interest and eventually married someone else.”

  “Then he’s a fool.” Her wistfulness settled heavily across his shoulders. He did not like knowing that she’d been rejected, perhaps even hurt by some unappreciative man. “Did you care for him?”

  It took a while for her to answer, and for some absurd reason this made him edgy. The carriage rattled in response to an uneven spot in the road. Griffin clenched his fists and braced for her response.

  “I believed we would get on well with each other.” She sighed with a hint of sadness that tore at his heart. “It would not have been a love match, but it was a chance for me to have a family of my own.”

  “Did you ever discover what happened? Why the gentleman in question changed his mind?”

  “Not exactly, though I do think my mother managed to frighten him away.” She took a deep breath and attempted to meet his gaze, which pushed her knee more firmly against his own. The contact was brief since she quickly changed her position, but the effect lingered like hot little embers scattered across his skin. “But I’m no longer sorry the attachment ended, for it allowed me to choose a different path, one which includes Cassandra and Mary and the children we’ve taken into our care.”

  Griffin expelled a deep breath. For a second, he considered asking who her suitor had been, but then she began regaling him with stories about the orphans and it no longer seemed appropriate. Nor did it really matter. She’d clearly moved on and was happy with the life she’d built for herself together with her friends.

  He ought to be pleased for her. After all, he had his own life to return to.

  So then why did he wish that she’d want something more? Something that might include him in the picture? It made no sense. Especially since this wasn’t something that he was prepared to offer.

  “What about you?” Emily asked Lord Griffin a couple of hours later. They’d just left another coaching inn where they’d stopped for a change of horses.

  “How do you mean?” he inquired.

  His question made sense considering she’d just finished telling him about the time when the olde
st boy in her care, Peter, had gone missing, and Caleb had found him and brought him back to Clearview.

  “Have you never considered marrying?”

  Lord Griffin grunted. “Marriage demands a certain degree of trust in the other person. I’ve not yet found such a person.”

  Emily took a moment to let that cynical impression of marriage sink in before saying, “I take it you’ve never been in love?”

  There was a pause. And then, “Your assumption is quite correct, Miss Howard. I also don’t expect to be, which is why I’m not eagerly looking to settle down. Even though my mother would be thrilled to have me do so.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “She even has a list.”

  Emily couldn’t help but smile. “Of suitable brides?”

  “It was meant for my brother, but now that he’s safely married, it’s been passed on to me.”

  Emily laughed outright. “Judging from the lack of enthusiasm in your voice, I take it you’re not enjoying her matchmaking efforts.”

  “To put it plainly, I cannot wait to escape them.”

  His comment compounded the inconvenience she’d caused him. Guilt threaded its way through her heart. “I’m sorry if I’ve delayed you. Caleb did say you were planning to return to Vienna soon.”

  “I’ve no fixed schedule for my departure. A quick trip to Clearview won’t make much of a difference.”

  She was pleased to hear it and yet she wasn’t, because his assurance, as comforting as it was, confirmed he would leave for Austria once he’d completed his gentlemanly duty toward her. Which was something she found to be rather depressing.

  She’d grown accustomed to his presence, even though they’d only interacted occasionally. But it had been enough for him to become the man she looked forward to seeing. Not because she imagined he’d ever feel for her what she felt for him, but because she enjoyed the spark he instilled in her. It made her feel alive and because of this, she could not quite imagine England without him.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, pleased with the level sound of her voice. The carriage bounced as it followed a bend in the road. Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I think I’ll try to sleep for a while now if you don’t mind.”