‘Who are you?’
The glowering Duke ignored her, his countenance becoming even more frightening as he instead looked at the young gardener with cold and frosty eyes.
‘Sutton, Your Grace. Arthur Sutton.’ The young man touched a respectful hand to his forelock, his face becoming flushed under the older man’s cold stare.
‘You may go, Sutton.’ Griffin nodded an abrupt dismissal. ‘And I would appreciate it if you would take yourself off to work elsewhere on the estate for the rest of the day,’ he added harshly, causing the bewildered young man to turn away and quickly collect up his tools ready for departing.
Bella felt equally bewildered by the harshness of Griffin’s tone and behaviour. It was almost as if he suspected her and the gardener of some wrongdoing, of some mischief, when all they had been doing was—
‘Oh!’ She gasped after glancing towards the house to see that the library window overlooked this garden, and realised exactly what Griffin had suspected her and the handsome gardener of doing.
Bella made sure that the young gardener had walked far enough away out of earshot, before she glared up into the harshly drawn face looking down at her so condescendingly. ‘How could you?’
The Duke quirked that infuriatingly superior eyebrow. ‘How could I what?’
‘You know exactly what I am talking about.’ Bella sighed her impatience. ‘How can you have been so disgusting as to have thought—to suggest, that I—that we—?’ She was too angry to say any more as she instead turned sharply on her stockinged heels to run back towards the house.
Hateful man.
Hateful, suspicious, disgusting man!
Griffin stood unmoving for several seconds after Bella had departed so abruptly, totally taken aback by her reaction. To the anger she had made no effort to hide from him as she’d spoken to him so accusingly.
Why was she angry with him, when she was the one who had been—?
The one who had been what?
Exactly what had Griffin actually seen from the library window?
The beautiful Bella in her overlarge gown, with her gloriously black hair loose and curling down the length of her spine, in conversation with one of his under-gardeners.
A young and handsome under-gardener, accepted, but Bella had not been standing scandalously close to Sutton, nor had she been behaving in a flirtatious manner towards him. Admittedly she had been smiling as she chatted so easily with the younger man, but even that was not reason enough for Griffin to have made the assumption he had.
Could it be that he had been jealous of her easy conversation and laughter with the younger man?
Was it possible that he thought, because of the unusual circumstances of Bella being here with him at all, that her smiles and laughter belonged only to him?
That she now somehow belonged to him?
* * *
‘Bella?’
She stiffened and ceased her crying, but made no effort to lift her head from the pillow into which it was currently buried as she lay face down on the bed.
She made no verbal acknowledgement of Griffin’s presence in her bedchamber at all. Correction, his bedchamber. As all of this magnificent house, and the extensive estate surrounding it, also belonged to him.
And she, having absolutely no knowledge of her past or even her name, was currently totally beholden to him.
But that did not mean Griffin Stone had the right to treat her with such suspicion. That he could virtually accuse her of flirting with Arthur Sutton. Or worse...
The under-gardener had been nice. A young man who had not been in the least familiar in his manner towards her, but rather accepted her as a guest of the Duke, and had treated her accordingly.
Not that she could expect Griffin to believe that when his mind was so obviously in the gutter.
What had she done to deserve such suspicion from him?
Admittedly, the circumstances of their meeting had been unusual to say the least, but surely there had to be an explanation for that?