Bea gave a husky chuckle. ‘She is a little overwhelming, I concede. But I do not know her terribly well—my mother and Sir Walter were not close,’ she explained at Griffin’s puzzled expression. ‘As such I did not have opportunity to meet either Sir Walter or Lady Francesca often until after my parents—until after they had both died,’ she added quietly.
‘I really am so sorry for your loss, Bea.’ Griffin took a step towards her and then stopped himself; there was absolutely no point in causing further awkwardness between the two of them by taking her in his arms—most especially when he could not guarantee the outcome.
He seemed to be fighting a constant battle within himself where she was concerned. The need to be close to her, to make love to her again, was set beside the knowledge that he did not have that right. That Bea belonged to another man.
Even if she had chosen not to speak to him of that man, as yet.
How could she, when he had taken such liberties? When just to think of the two of them together last night must now cause her immeasurable embarrassment and guilt?
No, better by far that he respect her silence, and the distance now between them, rather than cause them both further embarrassment.
‘Griffin, do you think that I should go to—?’
‘No!’ he protested violently.
Her eyes opened wide at his vehemence. ‘You do not know what I was about to say.’
‘Oh, but I do,’ he assured her dryly. ‘You have shown yourself to be both a courageous and resourceful woman this past week.’
‘I do not believe that to be true.’ She shook her head sadly.
‘Oh, but it is,’ Griffin countered. ‘You are very determined. What’s more you have refused to allow fear to dictate your movements. Consequently it is not in the least difficult for me to reason that you are thinking of offering yourself up as human bait, by going to your uncle and aunt’s home in the hope that one or both of them might give themselves away as being involved in this plot of treason and kidnapping.’
As that had been exactly Bea’s intention, she could not help but feel slightly put out that Griffin had so easily guessed what she had been about to suggest. ‘But surely it is the obvious answer to this dilemma? A way of knowing, without doubt, if one or both of my relatives are involved, when I am able to see their reaction to my safe and unexpected return?’
‘And what if that should turn out to be the case? What of the danger to yourself?’
‘What of the danger to that little eight-year-old boy?’ she said, tears glistening in her eyes. ‘Griffin, you do not believe that he might already be—’
‘No,’ Griffin assured her abruptly. ‘Certainly not.’
Bea eyed him quizzically for several long seconds. ‘You are not a very good liar, Griffin,’ she finally murmured sadly. ‘At least, not when you are speaking to me.’
He drew in a ragged breath as he thought of the abused state in which he had found Bea. For a young child to suffer such ill treatment would surely cause irrevocable emotional damage, as much as physical. Although they had no reason to suppose that Maystone’s grandson would be beaten, the boy was being held to ransom, and not because he personally was in possession of knowledge wanted by his kidnappers, as Bea apparently had.
‘You really have no idea of what it is you might have overheard to cause your abduction?’
‘None at all.’ She gave a pained grimace. ‘As far as I recall, it was just a weekend party, with the usual bored group of people attending.’
Griffin wished he dare ask if Michael had been one of those people, but again knew it would not be fair to place Bea in such a place of awkwardness. ‘We will find Maystone’s grandson, Bea, have no fear,’ Griffin stated with determination. ‘And if anyone is going to visit the Lathams then it will be me,’ he added grimly.
‘But would it not look suspicious if you were to visit them again so soon?’
He smiled tightly. ‘Not if my purpose was to make Sir Walter an offer for his new hunter. He will refuse, of course, and have the satisfaction of owning a piece of horseflesh he believes coveted by his neighbour.’
‘You must be terribly good at the secret work you do for the Crown,’ Bea murmured ruefully. ‘That is what you and the Duke of Sutherland do for Lord Maystone, is it not?’
‘We should not speak aloud of such things, Bea.’
‘But why do you do it, Griffin?’ She looked up at him in confusion. ‘Why have you chosen to deliberately put yourself in danger?’
It had begun as a way for him to evade thoughts of his failed marriage and his dead wife, but had all too soon become a way of life. One that he did not think of so very much any more, but merely accepted the assignments he was given. Such as he had in his search for Jacob Harker.
And instead he had found Bea.
She had, he realised, become a part of his household this past week. Someone that he looked forward to seeing across the breakfast table every morning. To spending the mornings in companionable silence with. To talking and arguing with over dinner, as they conversed on a number of subjects, some of which they did not agree on, and a larger number of which they did.
He could not imagine being here without Bea.