Scoundrel of My Heart (Once Upon a Dukedom #1) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,67

of her in each of the rooms.

He wondered if she would have the same experience, if she would be able to walk through the cottage and not sense the remnants of his presence.

A rap sounded on the door.

“Griff? Dinner is prepared. Will you be joining me?”

He shouldn’t. He should have a plate brought to him and eat it in here. Alone.

But he was destined for a good many nights alone, and many lonely nights. No matter how crowded his club became, still he remained alone . . . and lonely.

So he stacked the bricks and shoved mortar between them, making the walls sturdier, as he crossed the room and opened the door. “I’ll join you.”

Following dinner, he taught her to play brag, a favorite of the Duke of Kingsland apparently. They wagered with matchsticks, and she won most of his. While he grumbled a lot about her winning, she could tell he enjoyed the competition she provided.

When the clock struck ten and most of the matchsticks were in her possession, he bid her good night and retired to his bedchamber. And she went to hers and readied herself for bed.

But now as she lay beneath the covers, she couldn’t sleep for the thoughts of him going through her mind. The way he met her gaze and held it. The manner in which, sometimes, that very same gaze would drift to her lips. The frequency with which he would touch her hand, her elbow, her shoulder—and the naturalness of it. As though he did it without any conscious thought. She’d caught herself touching him a time or two without thinking it through, realizing what she’d done only when the warmth of his skin penetrated the linen of his shirt to taunt her fingers, to remind her of how it had felt to skim her hands over his forbidden flesh.

She would never again be able to visit the cottage without seeing him here. Sitting at her table with wineglass in hand. Lounging on the sofa sipping port. Standing at the window watching the rain.

But it was more than their time here she would be unable to forget. It was everything about him. She knew her thoughts should be focused on Kingsland, that he should occupy her mind at all times, that she should miss him, be anxious for his return—and yet it was Griff who filled every nook and cranny of her mind and, she feared, perhaps even her heart.

In all the months Kingsland had courted her, had she really come to know him? Did she know how his lips twitched when he was teasing? Or how his eyes darkened just before he kissed her? Or how they smoldered when he first caught sight of her in a gown of green? Griff had never said in words how he favored the green, but it was there in the way he looked at her as though he’d just encountered a masterpiece.

She knew so many small things about Griff, and they seemed as important as all the large things she knew about him. His dreams, ambitions, willingness to take any job to survive. He’d watched over Althea until Benedict Trewlove had taken on the task. Then he’d gone to watch over his brother and had nearly sacrificed himself to ensure Marcus remained safe.

Life had thrown challenges at him, and he’d met each and every one of them head-on. No more mornings waking up behind hedgerows. No more nights filled with drink, and play, and . . . women. Were there women? There certainly could be based on the interested way several had watched him at his club, but he’d told her they weren’t for him. Would he have returned her kiss at the club or in the carriage if he favored someone?

She listened as the rain pattered the roof and tapped against the windows. She’d always loved this room at the top of the stairs when the weather was rough and wild and should have been frightening. It had always given her strength and made her believe that if she could survive a storm, she could survive anything.

Even a marriage without love.

But what she found herself wondering now was if she could give up love for such a marriage.

He awoke to a scream. High-pitched. Terrified. The shrill cry of someone being attacked, someone in mortal danger. He scrambled from the bed, snatched up his trousers and drew them on, fastening the buttons and ignoring the pain in his side as he raced out of