Scoundrel of My Heart (Once Upon a Dukedom #1) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,72

between a man and woman was nothing at all what she had expected it to be.

After Jocelyn had married Chadbourne, she had told Kathryn, “You simply lie there while he moves over you, and when he’s done, you clean yourself up because it’s a terribly messy affair, and go on about your business.” It also had seemed a terribly cold affair.

Last night had seemed anything but cold or messy. Granted, he hadn’t mounted her—she knew all about mounting having seen a stallion covering a mare at her family’s country estate—but still she couldn’t imagine anything with Griff being passionless. Just thinking about him stirred within her things that shouldn’t be stirred. And yet, he’d always had the ability to make her feel things she shouldn’t—and to always feel them so damned strongly. Whether it was irritation, anger, fear, happiness, joy, contentment . . . passion . . . desire.

He possessed the key that unlocked every emotion within her. Every sensation. Every spark.

She wished he was still here for her to explore, but he’d no doubt left in order to protect her reputation. Mrs. McHenry arrived with the dawn to begin preparing breakfast. The coachman and footman would arrive with her, to manage any tasks that needed doing, such as hauling up water for her bath. Even now, she could hear movements taking place on the floor below hers.

She thought the next time she saw Griff she should feel self-conscious and shy because he knew the intimate details of her, and yet it was inconceivable that she would feel anything but happy to see him. Perhaps she could convince him to dance on the beach with her before breakfast, because she was suddenly of a mood to frolic on the sand and at the edge of the waves.

After easing out of bed, she crossed to the window and snatched up her nightdress from where it had landed the night before. As she retraced her steps to the bed, she caught sight of her reflection in the cheval glass. Tentatively she approached it and held out her arms. Shouldn’t a woman well-sated look different in the morning? Only she didn’t. Nothing about her revealed the wickedness that had occurred. What an incredibly prudent trick of nature, to keep a woman’s wantonness hidden.

Only she and Griff would know. They could exchange secretive smiles with no one the wiser.

After slipping into one of the simple frocks she’d left here on her last visit, she wandered down the stairs. When she reached the hallway, she glanced down it toward the room where Griff had been sleeping and noted that the door was open. Tiptoeing to it, intending to surprise him with her presence, she was disappointed to find it empty.

Nor was he in the parlor or the dining area.

“Morning, milady.”

She glanced back at the door that led into the kitchen area. “Good morning, Mrs. McHenry. Have you seen Mr. Stanwick?”

“No, miss. Are you off to enjoy your morning stroll?”

“Yes.” Perhaps he was outside.

“I’ll have your food ready when you return.”

“Thank you.”

After stepping outside, she didn’t see him at the cliff. A sense of urgency struck her as she raced to its edge and looked down. But he wasn’t on the sand, wasn’t in the water.

Spinning around, she saw the footman and coachman in the distance, no doubt returning after checking the road. She hurried over to them. “Have either of you seen Mr. Stanwick this morning?”

“Aye,” the coachman said. “At the livery before we headed over here. He was seeing about purchasing a horse.”

“Why would he need a horse?” Even as she asked the question, she knew. God help her, she knew.

“Don’t know, milady. Didn’t think it was my place to inquire. But he did ask the fellow who sold him a gelding for directions to London.”

She felt as though she’d taken a physical blow. He’d left. After all that had transpired between them, he’d left without so much as a word.

“We was just checking the road out of here, milady. It’s heavily mired from the rain. We should probably wait another day before trying to use it.”

“But a single horse could traverse it.”

“Aye, if you take it careful or travel to the side of it where the grass absorbed the wet.”

“Then, he’s gone,” she murmured, not to anyone in particular. More to herself, confirming what she’d already deduced.

Having brought her exquisite pleasure, he was done with her. It shouldn’t hurt, should have been expected. Far easier to leave than to face her. At least