Scoundrel of My Heart (Once Upon a Dukedom #1) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,93

not prove you wrong, if you do not come to love me—”

“You will have your inheritance. Your father explained to me what it entails. I should think you would be content with it.”

“One would think. My grandmother thought so, but I am beginning to suspect that she didn’t know me very well.” She gave a small, harsh laugh. “Until this moment, I’m not sure if I knew myself all that well, either. I was twelve when my grandmother died. All I wanted was to have her back, to have her love surrounding me again. But the cottage won’t give her back to me because her love isn’t housed within it.” She placed her hand over her heart. “It’s here within me, woven through all the memories.”

“I’m not certain I know where this is leading.”

“No, you probably don’t.” She wasn’t certain she’d known when she began. But she knew if she accepted his offer of marriage, she would be sacrificing a lifetime of memories filled with love.

“Someday, Your Grace, I hope you will find a woman for whom you willingly drop to your knees without hesitation. But as she is not me, my answer to your lovely proposal is no, I will not—I cannot—marry you.”

“There’s a duke tryin’ to get in.”

Griff was in the receiving room, watching as the artist he’d hired was quickly etching the features of the most recent lady to join the club onto the card that would identify her as a member. The man had begun working for him a few days after Kathryn had made the suggestion. He was quick, efficient, and damned accurate.

Kathryn’s idea had been brilliant, got people through the doors more quickly. They simply showed their card to Billy, and he let them in. He was usually quite skilled at sending away those who didn’t belong. Moving away from the artist, Griff gave his attention to the big bruiser.

“Told ’im dukes wasn’t allowed no entry, but ’e said ’e was allowed. Pompous bugger. I almost punched ’im to get ’im moving on, but thought I best check first, in case ’e had the right of it.”

He knew of only one duke that obnoxious. “Dukes aren’t allowed, but I’ll see to this one personally.”

When he stepped into the hallway, he wasn’t surprised to find that Kingsland hadn’t waited outside as he would have been ordered to but had come in far enough that he could get a better view of everything, was looking up at the floors visible from his position. “Your Grace.”

Kingsland lowered his gaze. “I’ve heard the rumors about this club. They say it’s not good enough for firstborn sons who are to inherit.”

“They’re not good enough for it.”

Kingsland chuckled low. “Spoken like a true second son. It seems to be flourishing, but you would benefit from having a man of influence speaking highly of this place.”

“I have men—and women—of influence speaking highly of it.”

He grinned. “Ah, yes, the Trewloves, I imagine. Chadbourne turned out to be a rotter, there, didn’t he? Turning his back on your sister as he did, although she recovered nicely.”

“My brother and I took our fists to him. I’ll do the same to you if you cause Lady Kathryn any unhappiness.”

“Her happiness is not my responsibility.”

“It damned sure will be when you’re her husband.”

“I’m not to be her husband.”

Fury like molten lava burst through him. “After all this time, you tossed her over?”

“She tossed me, old chap. Turned me down flat. Seemed to take exception to my not going down on a knee when I proposed, if you can believe it. Should have expected her rejection of my proposal, I suppose. It was a gamble on my part to choose a woman who had not sent me a letter.”

Everything within Griff stilled. “What do you mean she didn’t send you a letter?”

“Here, I always thought you had a semblance of intelligence about you. Am I using words that are too large, so it makes comprehension difficult?”

Damn, but he wanted to plow his fist into that perfect aristocratic nose. “You are either too daft to have recognized her name, to have known it was from her, or you overlooked it. I saw her working on it.”

“She may have written the bloody thing, but she never sent it. After meeting her at the park, I paid particular attention to the letters, reading each one, carefully searching for hers, interested in finding out what she had to say.”

“You didn’t meet her at the park. You met her at a ball