different side to him.
“I saw no point in it.”
She wanted to smack him for standing there unmoving, tolerating her presence, obviously desperate for her to take her leave—
But then she noticed his knuckles, so very white, as though his grip was straining to shackle him there, against the wall, away from her. As she studied him more thoroughly, she realized it wasn’t a casual stance. No, absolutely nothing about him was relaxed. As a matter of fact, he appeared quite brittle, nearly as stone-faced as a statue, as though every aspect of him required absolute concentration in order to remain as stoically unmoving as he was. But one good swipe with a hammer, and he would crumble.
She took a step toward him and detected a nearly imperceptible flinch. Was he threatened by her nearness? Was he not nearly as unaffected by her presence as he appeared?
She was still upset about the damned wager, about the steps he’d taken to ensure he won—that he’d taken the liberty of matching her with the duke when she hadn’t been certain Kingsland was who she wanted. She’d not achieved the end on her own, and she didn’t like the notion that she needed others to assist her in reaching her goals.
She was of a mind to torment him, and based on what she’d just discovered about his posture, she was fairly certain she knew how to do it with unerring accuracy.
Another step. This time his head moved back slightly as though he wanted to press it right through the wall.
“Did you never worry that you might have thrown me to a wolf in order to make a few quid?”
“I trusted that you’re strong enough to walk away if you found him not to your liking. As it’s been nearly a year since the courtship began and he recently took you to the theater—”
“How did you know that?”
“I know a good many things.”
He’d never struck her as caring one whit about gossip or giving much credence to it. “His brother told you. Perhaps you were waiting outside the theater for Lord Lawrence to deliver the money to you.”
Another shrug. A slight tightening of those fingers.
“Did you see us go in? I was wearing a new gown, a dark auburn sort of thing.”
“It matched your hair.” His jaw clenched, and she suspected he wished he’d bitten back the words.
She moved closer until she was standing in front of him. “You were there.”
“Only because Lawrence asked me to meet him so he could make good on his debt. I wasn’t there to spy on you.”
But to have seen her, he would have needed to have arrived much earlier than the duke’s brother. Had he wanted to catch a glimpse of her? “Did you like the way I looked that night? How I went to such pains to dress becomingly for him?”
“I really think it’s time you took your leave.”
“I’m not yet done with you.”
Reaching out, she took hold of the door and pushed it shut.
He hated that she’d gone to pains to look lovely for Kingsland. Hated that the man had the right to touch her, to escort her with her hand resting on his arm. Hated that she was here now tormenting Griff with her presence.
During the past few months, he’d been forced to deal with footpads and cutthroats and had become quite skilled at defending himself, but facing a woman scorned—no, she wasn’t scorned, merely severely put out with him—was a much more terrifying prospect. Or it might have been for a fellow who hadn’t faced the dangers he had. So he wasn’t particularly frightened, but he was wary. She had changed since he’d last seen her. If she wrote a letter to the duke now, he suspected it would be worded very differently from the one she’d written last summer, that it wouldn’t make any mention of whist. She possessed a determination to gain retribution and believed she was owed. He could read in her eyes that she fully intended to ensure that he paid dearly for what she considered a betrayal.
If only she knew how much he was already suffering. To prevent himself from reaching for her, he was gripping his arms so forcefully he was fairly certain he’d see bruises there in the morning. His hands hadn’t ached this badly since he’d torn them up working the docks for a few pence a day. And his jaw—with the pain periodically shooting through it because of how tightly it was clenched, he was