Scoundrel of My Heart (Once Upon a Dukedom #1) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,53
indicated they should travel. To keep him safe, to protect him from harm.
She’d offered her carriage not out of benevolence but out of crushing curiosity, desperate for a little more time with him, to learn the secrets of what had transpired to make him the man he was now, one who hardly resembled the gentleman who had kissed her in the duke’s garden.
He should have refused and have found his own transportation to meet with Marcus. But here he was, within the close confines of her carriage, with her faint orange fragrance wafting around him. When he should be nowhere near her.
“Why did you leave your cheroot to burn as though you intended to come back for it?” she asked. “It seemed a waste.”
“It leaves a more pleasant aroma if left to burn out on its own. I prefer the pleasant to the unpleasant. And it will be wasted. A young man will come through and toss it in the rubbish bin.”
“So many things to consider.”
More than she’d ever know.
“Before Althea left for Scotland, we had a few occasions to visit, but she wasn’t able to enlighten me as to what you and Marcus were doing.”
So now she wanted to get to the heart of his urgent matter. It shouldn’t please him that she’d asked after him, and he was no doubt reading too much into her inquiry. People asked after their friends’ families as a show of politeness. It had probably been no more than that—or perhaps she’d wanted to find him to express her upset over the wager. “Marcus is striving to determine who organized the plot for which our father hanged. I helped him for a while but grew weary of the hunt.”
“Is he in danger?”
Possibly. Probably. “His letter indicated only that he needed to meet.”
“Yet you didn’t hesitate.”
“He’s my brother. I am always there for him.”
“What of Althea, being there for her? You didn’t attend her wedding.”
He detected a bit of censure in her tone. “It wouldn’t do for those with whom Marcus associates to catch wind of him having any connection to the aristocracy, and there is evidence that he is often secretly followed. At the time, it seemed best for me to keep away as well.”
“Considering how the lords and ladies turned their backs on your family, I’m surprised to see so many of them at your club.”
He grinned. “I kept my involvement secret at first. By the time they realized I was the owner, they’d decided they enjoyed the place too much to avoid it on principle.” They seldom acknowledged him, merely tolerated him. But he didn’t mind. He was making a bloody fortune off them. He glanced out the window. “We’re near enough to where I need to be.”
Using his walking stick, he knocked twice on the ceiling. The horses began to slow. “Thank you for the use of your carriage.” When the vehicle stopped, he opened the door, leapt out, and looked back at her. While she was naught but shadows, still he saw her clearly in his mind. “Safe journey home.”
Suddenly her fingers were clutching the lapels of his coat. “You will be careful.”
He wanted to cradle her face between his hands and take possession of her perfect mouth, to have a final kiss, a final taste, rather certain Marcus’s reasons for sending for him did not lend themselves well to his being careful. But Griff was on his way to meet with a man for whom he’d taken unforgiveable actions, and he wasn’t going to sully her with a touch when he was so near to the reminder. “Always.”
“We’ll wait for you.”
“No. Go home now, Lady Kathryn. I can find my own way back to the club.”
Her fingers loosened their hold. He stepped back, closed the door, and called up to the driver. “Carry on.”
Without waiting to see them off, he began running toward one of the bridges that crossed the Thames, striving to calm his racing heart because Marcus’s note had said simply, “Life and death.”
Chapter 13
He slowed his steps as he neared the water that reflected moonlight. It created the sort of tapestry that evoked romantic overtures, but nothing about his present mission would lend itself to taking advantage of the beauty. He and his brother had used this spot repeatedly for their clandestine encounters, when one or the other of them had news to share or information to impart. So the missive hadn’t needed to tell him where to go. He’d known where his brother would