‘It is Miss Bella.’
‘Bella?’ Griffin quickly looked up towards the house. ‘Has she fallen? Been injured in some way? Did someone come here while I was out?’ he demanded belatedly. He knew someone would almost certainly be looking for Bella, following her escape, but Griffin had not thought they would dare to come here, to Stonehurst Park. ‘Out with it, man!’ he barked his impatience at his butler.
Pelham obviously did his best to calm himself, although there was still a light of panic in his eyes. ‘We were just finished afternoon tea in the servants’ dining room when we heard such a screaming and carry on.’
‘Bella?’ Griffin knew he was the one who was now less than composed. ‘Did someone attack her? If someone has dared to harm her—’
‘No, no, it is nothing like that, Your Grace. It seems that she must have fallen asleep some time after lunch, and had a nightmare. Mrs Harcourt is up in her bedchamber with her now, but Miss Bella is inconsolable, and we did not know what to do for the best.’
Griffin was no longer there for the older man to explain the situation to; he was already ascending the front steps two at a time in his rush to get to Bella’s side, throwing his hat aside as he hurried across the hallway to ascend the wide staircase just as hurriedly, all the time berating himself for having left Bella.
He should not have left her alone after all that she had so obviously suffered.
Nor should he have parted from her so angrily earlier, when he was the one who had been at fault for kissing her.
He was an unfeeling brute, who did not deserve—
‘Griffin!’
He had barely stepped inside the bedchamber, his heart having contracted the moment he took in the sight of Bella’s tear-stained face, when she jumped up suddenly from the bed to rush across the room and launch herself into his arms.
His own arms closed tightly about her as he held her slenderness securely against him, feeling as he did the terrible trembling of her body.
‘I am here now, Bella. I am here,’ he assured her softly as she continued to sob and cling to him.
Her face was buried against his chest. ‘It was... I was... It was so dark I could not see, only hear, and—’
‘You may leave us now, Mrs Harcourt.’ Griffin curtly dismissed the housekeeper; there was no need to add to the mystery of Bella’s presence at Stonehurst Park. ‘Perhaps you might have Pelham bring us up some tea in half an hour or so?’ he added, to take the sting out of his dismissal as he saw the housekeeper’s crestfallen expression.
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ She bobbed a curtsy before hurrying from the room, obviously as discomfited as Pelham by this upset.
‘You are safe now, Bella,’ Griffin assured her as he bent to swing her up in his arms and carry her across the bedchamber, where he sank down into the armchair, settling Bella on his knees as her body still shook uncontrollably.
She buried her face against the side of his throat. ‘That is not my name.’
Griffin stroked a soothing hand down the length of her spine even as he lightly brushed the tangle of dark hair from her face. ‘We have agreed it shall be for now.’
‘No,’ she sobbed emotionally. ‘I meant that it really is not my name.’ She raised her head and looked at him, eyes red, lashes damp, her cheeks flushed. ‘I believe my—my real name is—I heard someone in my dream call me Beatrix.’
She had spent a miserable morning in her bedchamber, pacing up and down as she’d tried to decide what she should do for the best. What was best for Griffin, not herself.
He was so obviously a man who preferred his own company.
A singular gentleman, who did not care to involve himself in the lives of others.
A wealthy and eligible duke, who had not remarried after his duchess died six years ago.
And she was responsible for disturbing the constancy of his life.
What Bella should do now was leave here. Remove herself from his home. Before news of a woman’s presence at Stonehurst Park became known, as it surely would be if she remained here for any length of time. The last thing she wanted was to blacken Griffin’s name.
Except she still had nowhere else to go, nor the means to get anywhere.
The tears of frustration she had cried had not helped to lessen the helplessness of Bella’s situation in the slightest.
Any more than her best efforts to try not to think of the way Griffin had kissed her earlier. Or that he had called her a witch for having tempted him.
It had been in that state of despair and emotional turmoil that Bella had finally fallen into an exhausted asleep.