Page 83 of Last Night with the Duke
Placed on the white linen in front of Griffin was a plate of food he hadn’t touched: scrambled eggs, a slice of ham, boiled potatoes. On a saucer beside it lay a slice of bread and a serving of cooked figs. In the center of the table sat a three-pronged candlestick, affording the only bright light in the room. It was an oval table with six chairs. All empty save his. He looked at the chair beside him and imagined Esmeralda sitting there, her golden-brown hair hanging down her back. Her expression serene, and her beautiful lips smiling at him.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Why had he put so much faith in what Esmeralda had believed about Lambert, Lord Henry, or all the other gentlemen? She’d told him she knew nothing about the ways of a man, so why had he trusted what she’d thought? Because he’d been drawn to everything about her, including all she said. That hadn’t changed. That empty feeling that had formed in his gut when he’d told her to leave hadn’t changed either.
Griffin hadn’t stopped wanting her simply because he was upset with her. His desire for her hadn’t changed. If anything it had increased since he’d held her warm, supple body in his arms and tasted her tender lips. No, the way she made him feel had become more than desire. It was a hunger. He wanted her morning and night. Midday and afternoon. Twilight and midnight. He wanted her with him. In this house. In this room. Right now, sitting at this table with him enjoying a cup of chocolate, or tea, or whatever her heart desired. He didn’t care as long as she was there.
Somehow, deep inside he’d known all along that she wasn’t just a poor relation to a well-respected baron. And finding out she was a lady of quality had complicated his craving, but it hadn’t stopped it. And now, rejecting her, sending her out of his life, hadn’t made it stop either.
Maybe he wouldn’t have acted so coldly to her if he understood his feelings for her. If he understood why he couldn’t get her out of his thoughts or why he couldn’t stop wanting her. He had no doubt she wanted him—not his title, not his wealth or his influence, but him—as much as he wanted her.
Esmeralda had thought Lambert had a genuine interest in Sara. Maybe he did. Griffin would meet with the man and hear what he had to say for himself. He wouldn’t be opposed to Sara marrying Lambert, but was it his intention to offer for her or simply continue to dally with her? And he had certainly acted differently than Lord Henry had.
He looked down at his scuffed knuckles and winced as he opened and closed his hand. Lord Henry would not only be nursing the crack on his head from Vera’s parasol, he’d be sporting the swollen eye and busted lip that Griffin had left with him last night. It would be a few days before he’d want to be seen in public again.
A noise from the front of the house caught his attention. Someone was at the door. Female voices. His sisters? They never came to St. James. He rose as his butler stopped in the doorway, and said, “Your sisters and Lady Evelyn would like to see you.”
Lady Evelyn?
“I’ve asked them to wait in the drawing room for you.”
His aunt? Out of the house? His heart started beating a little harder. Something had to be wrong.
“Prepare chocolate for them.” Griffin lay aside his napkin and strode down the corridor and into the drawing room. Sara and Vera were on the settee and Lady Evelyn, wearing a plum-colored hat with a sheer black veil covering her face, was perched on a straight back chair near them. All three stood when he walked in. He put his hand out for them to sit.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, though he was feeling better now that he saw no one was harmed, or crying. In fact, they all looked rather perturbed.
“You tell us,” his aunt said, almost sharply.
“All right. I’m thinking it’s wrong for you to be out of the bed. If you wanted to see me, you could have sent for me.”
“I may look like a beast,” she answered, “but I’m still quite capable of walking. When you do drastic things that are harmful to this family, I don’t have time to wait around until you decide you have the time to come see me.”
Had she received word that he paid a visit to Lord Berkwoods’ son? Griffin opened and closed his injured hand again, thinking his aunt was sounding a bit like Esmeralda did the first day he met her.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“I had a letter from Miss Swift this morning telling me that she was sorry she had neglected her duties to Sara, and she completely understood why she could no longer chaperone them, and to please forgive her.”
“We had similar notes from her,” Vera added curtly.
“And we don’t know why,” Sara continued. “Bring her back, Griffin. No matter what you think of me or Mr. Lambert for kissing me, it wasn’t Miss Swift’s fault.”
“I know everything that happened yesterday with Sara and Vera, Your Grace,” Lady Evelyn said. “They both confided in me this morning and have sought my help. I agree with them. Bring Miss Swift back.”
He frowned. “She left Sara alone in the house with Lambert,” he said without mercy.
“No,” Sara said. “I was so upset with you yesterday I didn’t think to tell you everything that happened.”
“You can spare me the details, Sara. I have a pretty good idea about what happened between you and Lambert.”
“That’s not what she’s talking about, Griffin,” Vera interjected. “He’d left the house, but came back after Miss Swift went chasing after Josephine. He saw Sara standing in the doorway crying.”
Esmeralda chasing after Josephine. There was nothing uncommon about that. There was no telling what Josephine had gotten into. “Why were you crying? What happened?”
“We all were,” Lady Sara said. “Even Sparks had to wipe his eyes.”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
“So, as I thought, you don’t know the whole story of what happened yesterday.” Lady Evelyn said.
