Griffin Stone:Duke Of Decadence

Griffin did not fool himself into thinking Bea felt any more for him than that. She was totally dependent upon him for everything, including the clothes she wore. At present, he was the only thing standing between her and the people who had abducted her. The same people who were no doubt searching for her even now. Unaware of her amnesia, they would hope to recapture her before she was able to tell anyone what had happened to her.

No matter that Griffin had been motivated by a sense of self-preservation just now, a defence against his increasing desire for Bea, he should not have been so short with her.

And whether she wished to see him again this evening or not, he did owe her an apology.

* * *

Bea was very aware that she had overreacted to Griffin’s comment just now. That she was being unreasonable in expecting him to be in the least bit happy with their living arrangements. As no doubt Sir Walter Latham’s visit earlier today had only emphasised.

Griffin had hardly left the four walls of Stonehurst Park these past three days, and usually only to go to the stables, or to talk with his estate manager. And rather than being able to relax and enjoy Sir Walter’s visit earlier today, he had likely been forced to be restrained in his manner and to keep the visit short for fear a misspoken word might reveal Bea’s presence here.

Whatever her own feelings of hurt just now she had behaved unreasonably by leaving the dinner table so abruptly, and she owed him an apology for possibly having caused him embarrassment when Pelham returned to the dining room and found her gone.

She drew in a deep steadying breath as she fortified herself for going downstairs and facing Griffin again.

Only to come to an abrupt halt the moment she opened the door to her bedchamber and found Griffin standing outside in the hallway, his hand raised as if in preparation for knocking.

She gave a nervous smile. ‘I was just coming downstairs to speak with you.’

‘As I am here to speak to you.’

Bea stepped back in order to open the door wider. ‘Please, come inside.’

Griffin stepped reluctantly into the bedchamber, aware that it was probably not wise. He noted how at home Bea had become in just a few days; there were combs and perfumes on the dressing table, the gown she had worn that day was draped over the chair, with a pair of matching satin slippers left on the floor beside it.

He turned back to Bea as she stood nervously in the centre of the bedchamber. ‘I feel I owe you an apology and explanation for my behaviour earlier,’ he began.

‘I wish to apologise for having been so unreasonable earlier—’

Bea broke off as she realised that they had both begun to speak at the same time. And on the same subject. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘I am still somewhat emotional at the moment, and you have done so much for me already. My new gowns and slippers, the combs and perfumes.’

‘I do not require your gratitude, Bea!’ Griffin winced as he realised he had spoken harshly yet again. ‘My impatience now, and earlier, is not with you, but due solely to frustration with this situation. I feel as if I should be doing more for you, not less, but until I receive word, or otherwise, from the friend I have contacted in London, my hands are tied.’ He paced the bedchamber restlessly.

Bea knew of the letter he had sent to a well-connected acquaintance in London a few days ago. ‘When do you expect to hear back from him?’ The sooner he did, the sooner Bea might have the information she needed to remove herself from Stonehurst Park; she would no longer be a burden on Griffin’s generosity.

She would be sad to leave here, and even sadder to leave Griffin, but had already accepted it was inevitable.

Griffin sighed. ‘Perhaps in another three, possibly four days. I realise that is a lengthy time,’ he acknowledged as Bea grimaced. ‘But I do not see how I can expect to hear news any earlier than that when we are two hundred miles away from London. And there is always the possibility that there will be no news at all, or that Maystone may be away from home when my letter arrives,’ he added grimly.

Bea accepted there might be delays that might occur in the delivery of Griffin’s letter. Even if his friend did receive the missive, there was no guarantee that he would be able to garner any information about her. If that should be the case, she had no idea what she was going to do next. She could not remain with Griffin; that would be expecting too much, even from a man as generous as he. In which case, she had a week at most in which to formulate plans for her own future.

‘You are not to worry about this, Bea.’ Griffin frowned as he saw her look of concentration. ‘There is no rush for you to leave here. You eat no more than a mouse, and are almost as quiet as one!’