“By all means,” he murmured.
Emily said nothing further. She was actually quite exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Because she could no longer claim an innocent appreciation for Lord Griffin’s company or even a slight attraction. What she felt for him now that she’d kissed him was far more complicated and not at all easy to unravel.
4
Grey clouds were drawing together when the carriage reached their destination three days later. “It looks like it’s going to rain,” Griffin said as they started their one mile walk to Clearview. In spite of the foreboding weather, he was glad to exchange the pungent smell of the carriage with clean country air.
“We’d best hurry then,” Miss Howard said. She strode forward with long strides, a caricature of elegance in her billowing evening gown and his much-too-large jacket.
Griffin forced back a grin and hurried after her. She was an interesting person: beautiful, independent, and very determined in her pursuits. Which of course made him wonder if she would approach all things in life with the focus she’d given to convincing her mother she needn’t marry on account of a kiss before heading off on a cross-country journey with the very same man who’d just compromised her. Would she dedicate herself to making love with equal zeal?
Not the right question for him to be asking while trying to give her protection.
He set his jaw and glanced across at her profile. Her gaze was fixed upon the horizon with fierce determination, her chin jutting slightly forward beneath a full pair of rosy lips, and her cheeks flushed by vigor. Strands of loosened hair tangled in the wind, flung out behind her in a haphazard display of careless abandon.
Most people who saw her like this would likely say she looked a mess, but Griffin disagreed. In his opinion he’d never encountered a lovelier woman, nor one he’d rather take a walk in the rain with.
And it was raining now. Only a little, but enough to warn him that more was to come. “We’ll be soaked before we get there,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Do you not like the rain?”
A flash of light lit up the sky, followed shortly after by a boom in the distance. The drizzle came faster and heavier until it became a rapid downpour.
Griffin was drenched before he’d taken another five steps.
“I like it well enough as long as I’m sitting inside by a blazing fire.”
She laughed in spite of the wind and the rain streaking over her face, which made Griffin laugh as well. Miss Howard was good company. There was a carefree honesty about her that most people lacked.
“That does sound lovely, but since we’ve still got some way to go, I would suggest finding pleasure in our current circumstances.”
“My clothes are clinging to my skin, Miss Howard.”
“So are mine. But if you try to ignore that for a moment and direct your attention toward the drops of water spilling onto your face and the wind blowing over your cheeks, you should start feeling revived. The energy found in nature should lift your spirit, not repress it. It should wash away all restrictions and make you feel free.”
God, he wanted to kiss her right now. He wanted to taste the raindrops on her face and feel the drenched fabric of her gown bunched in his hands as he pulled her against him.
He took a deep breath, conscious of the water trickling over his own lips. It cooled there in response to a harsh gust of wind blowing in from his left. Griffin’s senses sharpened, bringing about a new awareness and appreciation for how the cool air mixed with the rain invigorated every cell in his body.
“I never considered that before.”
“When we allow ourselves to abandon the rules we’ve been taught to adhere to, like taking shelter at the first sign of rain, we open ourselves to new experiences and a freedom that cannot exist as long as we let ourselves be restricted.”
“Do you know how revolutionary that sounds?”
She swiped some water from her eyes with her hand and said, “It is the most compelling argument for my present situation.” A grin tugged at her lips. “We would not be here together like this, you and I, if we’d chosen to follow the rules.”
“We’d likely be arguing with friends and family about the repercussions of our kiss.”
“Which would have been a dull way to spend a Monday, would you not agree?”
He laughed. How could he not when she was so marvelously refreshing? “You make an excellent point, Miss Howard.” Spending a brief reprieve with her at Clearview would not be so bad. In fact, he was rather glad things had turned out the way they had, for it meant he would now have a chance to get to know her better.
But to what end?
You don’t wish to marry and you plan to leave England.
He chose to ignore that nagging thought for the moment and simply enjoy the company of a woman who was proving to be far more entertaining than he’d ever anticipated.
In spite of what she’d said to Lord Griffin, Emily was actually quite glad to arrive at Clearview when they did because she’d still been wearing her silk slippers from the night of the ball, and they weren’t meant for walking through mud and puddles.
“I wish you could see this place in a few weeks when daffodils bloom,” she said as she entered through the garden gate.
“I imagine it must be very picturesque.” The gate squeaked on its hinges as he closed it. “I’ve always been fond of daffodils myself.”
“They’re my favorite flowers. Along with peonies.” Turning right, she made her way toward the cottage where Caleb had stayed during his time there.
“Where are you going?” Lord Griffin asked as she sloshed her way forward.
“To fetch the spare key.” Reaching the overhang next to the cottage, she reached up under a wooden beam and unhooked a key from a nail there. She held it up for Lord Griffin to see. “Victory. Come on.”
“You came all this way without being sure you’d be able to get inside the house?” He sounded incredulous.
“Of course not. I knew the key would be here.” She made her way back toward the front door of the main house. “Or at least I was very certain it would be.” He muttered something inaudible behind her, and she grinned in response. “Cassandra has the other copy, and I did not stop to think about asking her for it during my escape from Camberly House.”
“Are you always this spontaneous?”
She placed the key in the lock and turned it, then pushed the door open and entered the foyer. It wasn’t warm, but at least it was dry. “I don’t think so,” she said, answering him after a moment’s consideration.
He closed the door, shutting out the rain and the wind. Puddles started forming at both their feet, and Emily suddenly felt the chill more severely than when she’d been outside walking. “We should light some oil lamps and start a fire.”
“I’d recommend doing so in the kitchen so we can prepare some hot tea as well.”
“Agreed.” She led the way and then pointed out where the wood was kept so he could start making the fire while she lit a couple of oil lamps. Their glow illuminated the interior and brought Lord Griffin’s lack of a jacket into sharp focus. His shirt and waistcoat clung to his back as he bent before the fireplace, the shirtsleeves gripping his arms to accentuate his toned muscles.
Emily swallowed and realized her throat had gone dry. She took a step back, almost stumbling over a chair. “I’ll fetch some water,” she muttered. “For the tea.” As if that needed explaining.
She spun away and went to collect a couple of bottles that were kept in the pantry. The water inside them wouldn’t be fresh, but that didn’t matter since she would be boiling it anyway. And it was better than having to go back out into the storm in order to pump water from the well.
Collecting a kettle, Emily filled it and set it on the kitchen table. “This is ready to be hung above the fire,” she said while trying not to stare at Lord Griffin. He’d risen from his crouched position and was standing by the fireplace, prodding the wood there with a po
ker, and dear God, she could not think straight. Not with his wet trousers hugging his thighs in the most incredible way and...
She cleared her throat. “I’m off to get changed. Make yourself comfortable. I shall see you in a bit.” Grabbing one of the oil lamps, Emily fled upstairs to her bedchamber and shut the door firmly behind her.
Inhaling deeply, she took several breaths in an effort to slow her rapid heart rate. The most gorgeous man in the world was presently in her kitchen, and she was in serious danger of making a fool of herself. Sighing, she pushed his jacket off her shoulders and hung it across the back of a chair. If they were going to make this bizarre partnership of theirs work, she would have to be able to look at him without losing her wits. Which would likely become a lot easier once his clothes dried and he could be properly attired again.
With this in mind, Emily went to work on the buttons of her gown, which involved a bit of contorting. Eventually, she ended up tearing some of them off, but since the alternative was to ask Lord Griffin for help, she decided the extra work spent with her sewing kit later would be the better option.
Crossing to her chest of drawers, she found a clean chemise, stays, and stockings, which she put on before selecting a plain indigo dress with long sleeves from her wardrobe.
Reminded of the fact that Lord Griffin would not have any dry clothes to change into, she found a large blanket in the chest at the foot of her bed and hurried back downstairs. What she was not prepared for when she returned to the kitchen was to find him sitting before the fire without his shirt or waistcoat on. Indeed, he was totally naked from the waist up, which was something of a shock since she’d never seen any man so scantily clad before.
Being the practical sort, Emily knew that accepting the situation for what it was would be the only way for her to have some tea, so she took a step forward and ignored the riotous nerves in her belly. They would not help her any more than the soft little shiver that tickled her spine when Lord Griffin heard her and glanced her way. Her determination to remain unaffected by him was rapidly proving as useless as her soggy slippers upstairs.
And then he stood, as gentlemen were trained to do when a woman entered a room. Except most gentlemen did not put their nipples and chest hair on bold display. Even as she feared her heart might seize, Emily’s fingers tingled with the most absurd desire to reach out and touch him. Without even thinking, she lowered her gaze and was briefly distracted by a fainter dusting of hair leading from his naval toward his waistline.
She snapped her gaze back to his and held the blanket toward him as rigidly as if she were holding a rotting cabbage at arms length. “This should help keep you warm,” she muttered while brazenly staring straight into his dark brown eyes. Looking away would show embarrassment and weakness, and she refused to let him think she might be suffering from either. Even though she was well aware of the heat rushing into her cheeks and the wobbly uncertainty of her knees.
“Thank you.” He accepted the offering with a smile, his fingers grazing hers as he took it.
Emily counted to five in her head and then finally did turn away, more eager than ever for a cup of hot tea. She searched the table for the kettle, but it wasn’t there.
“It’s already hanging over the fire,” Lord Griffin told her, apparently well aware of what she sought. “The water should be boiling soon, so all we need is a pot and some tea.”
“I’ll see to it.” Emily rummaged around until she found the items. She looked at Lord Griffin from the corner of her eye and saw he was wrapped up quite nicely now in the blanket. A smile tugged at her lips. This was by far the most unexpected situation she’d ever thought to find herself in.
A thought struck her. “Are you hungry? There should be some cured meat, some preserves, and a bit of cheese in the larder.”
“That would be welcome until we’re able to buy fresh supplies tomorrow.”
“All right then. If you can add the boiling water to the pot here, I’ll prepare a couple of plates for us to enjoy.”
Intent on focusing on the task she’d set herself instead of on Lord Griffin’s unavoidable presence, Emily went to find as much variety as she could among the supplies. Everything she’d mentioned to him could be found, including a tin containing a few remaining biscuits she’d baked last month.
Piling everything into her arms, she returned to the kitchen and almost dropped it all on the floor when she spotted Lord Griffin’s trousers hanging across the back of a spare kitchen chair. Were those his smalls, right beside them? She gulped, which was something she never did. But really, how could she not when the only thought spinning inside her head was that he was now completely nude beneath that blanket.
Dear God in heaven, she could even see his shins and his feet, just as bare as the rest of him. Closing her eyes for a second, Emily inhaled deeply through her nose.
What was it with the Crawford men, wet clothes, and blankets? Mary had experienced a similar incident with Caleb while he’d been staying here, and since Emily and Cassandra had been aware of an attraction brewing between them, they’d made her handle the situation on her own. The reminder gave Emily a newfound respect for Mary’s fortitude since she herself was starting to fear that the only way for her to cool down was to step right into the fire.
“Miss Howard?”
Emily blinked. “Huh?”
“Are you all right?”
She blinked again. Apparently that was what one did when one was thrust into the complete unknown and began suffering from shock.
“Ye-yes,” she stammered like the foolish ninny he’d turned her into. Her brow furrowed and she clenched her jaw. No. He would not divest her of all reason. She would not allow it. So she tightened her hold on the supplies, just to be safe, and crossed to the kitchen table.
“Would you like some help with that?”
“No thank you.” He raised an eyebrow and she realized she sounded terser than she’d intended. Great! The balance between portraying a lightheaded dunderhead and a difficult harridan was proving a chore to master. She exhaled slowly, intent on regaining some semblance of control over all the emotions he’d stirred in her since their kiss.
Finally, she said, “I believe I can manage if you’d be kind enough to pour me a cup of tea once it’s done steeping.”
“Certainly.” He went in search of cups, allowing Emily to relax even further. Yes, she found him impossibly attractive, but in all fairness she did not wish for him to catch cold which was what he risked doing unless he got dry. She could not fault him for removing his clothes. Least of all when he’d done a good job concealing as much of himself as possible. Which now made her miss the sight of his torso, so beautifully sculpted by smooth skin and muscle.
Stop it.
There’s food to prepare.
She grabbed a knife and proceeded to slice thin pieces of ham, arranging them neatly on two plates. Next, she cut some chunks of cheese, divided the biscuits equally between them, and finished off with a dollop of cherry preserves.
“The food is ready,” she told Lord Griffin.
“So is the tea. Shall we sit at the table or in front of the fire?”
Emily’s heart skipped a little with appreciation. There was no denying the hopeful look in his eyes when he mentioned the fire, but he was prepared to forego comfort in favor of protocol if she desired.
“As long as you’re able to balance a plate in your lap, then I am too,” she told him sincerely.
His smile was immediate and so warm that she could practically feel the heat of it all the way down to her toes. “I’m glad to hear it.” He turned the edge of the blanket over and tucked it firmly into place, then arranged their respective chairs and set each of their mugs on the low stone ledge in front of the fireplace.
“You should sit down first so I can hand you your plate,” Emily said.
“Or you could give me the plates so you can sit first.”
She thought of arguing and then decided against it. He was after a
ll just trying to adhere to some semblance of normalcy even though there was nothing normal about their current situation.
“Very well.” She did as he suggested and was quickly seated in front of the welcoming heat from the flames and ready to enjoy her meal.
“This is not where I imagined I’d be today when I readied myself for the Camberly ball on Friday,” he said when they’d both had a chance to eat some of their food.
Emily glanced across at his profile. Each line of his face was highlighted either by light or shadow. As if sensing her perusal, he tilted his head, angling it toward her. “Nor I,” she confessed.
“Oh?”
She laughed in response to his obvious attempt at feigning incredulity. “It was not my intention to kiss anyone…” She averted her gaze, dipped a biscuit into the cherry preserves and took a large bite. The lie made her insides squirm with discomfort. So she swallowed her food and sighed. “That’s not entirely true.”
“How do you mean?”
He sounded both curious and hesitant, as though he wasn’t quite sure that he wished to hear her answer.
And yet she was somehow compelled to confide in him. Perhaps because this was home. If Cassandra had been here, she would have told her everything. But both she and Mary were back in London and that left Emily with Lord Griffin.
“I did mean to encourage Mr. Bale to kiss me after he’d helped me untangle my earring.”
A rough sound rose from Lord Griffin’s throat. He was staring at his plate. “Why?”
Emily shrugged. “He’s very agreeable and discreet. Of all the gentlemen I’m acquainted with, I believed him the most likely one to show me what kissing is like without making demands after.”
“I see.”
“Do you really?” She set her plate aside and picked up her cup. “Are you really able to imagine what it is like to be six and twenty years old and not have experienced kissing? To fear you might never do so or that if you do you’ll end up trapped in an unhappy marriage? That the action, no matter how simple, could have dire repercussions for your sister?” She shook her head. “Men are able to learn about these aspects of life without anyone caring one way or the other. Indeed, they are expected to do so and more.”
More Than a Rogue Page 5