“Aunt Hortense is not always as given to tact as one would hope.” Lady Violet moved closer, an elegant swish over the carpet, stealing his attention. “Please do forgive her.”
He snorted, feeling as far from elegant as one could possibly get. “How did you escape Aunt Horrible’s clutches with such ease? If that dragon comes bursting in behind you, I cannot promise I won’t practice my knife throwing skills after all.”
Lady Violet stopped just within reach. “I told her I needed to conduct my daily Bible reading in my chamber.”
Griffin studied her, wondering at the hidden facets beneath her prim exterior. “And then you came to mine instead.”
“Yes.”
“To collect the seed pouch, I presume?” He dangled the offending bit of yarn from his fingers, extending it toward her. “Here you are then. I do apologize for absconding with the thing.”
She frowned at the seed pouch, making no move to accept it. “That is not why I am here.”
His cock twitched, foolish enough to hope her presence in his chamber and her pronouncement meant she had a far less innocent motive. But his head knew that was too much for which to hope. She was an innocent lady, not an experienced widow, as was ordinarily his consort of choice.
He ground his jaw. “No? I would think you would have more of an affinity for a gewgaw you knitted for your future husband, Lord Horticulture.”
“The seed pouch is crocheted, not knitted,” she corrected him in an arch tone. “And my future husband is Lord Almsley. I will thank you to refrain from further maligning him in my presence. Furthermore, I know I am wretched at crocheting. The seed pouch looks more like a reticule than anything, and though he loves me, I cannot fathom Charles making use of it.”
Damn him if her referring to Lord Boring as Charles didn’t set his teeth on edge and send a fresh spike of something unwanted into his gut. Not jealousy. He had no reason for such a plebian emotion. Or any emotion, for that matter. He had been numb for as long as he could recall, and he would not have it any other way.
He stepped closer to her, because he could not resist, still holding the seed pouch in question aloft. “First, I don’t care about the difference between crocheting and knitting. Second, I do not give a good goddamn what Lord Flowerpot’s name is. And third, the bloody thing looksexactlylike a reticule. But I rather think a man like your betrothed would love such an accessory.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You need not be such a surly beast. I rather liked you better before.”
He could not stay his grin. “When I was kissing you? Never fear, my lady. You are not the first, and nor shall you be the last to succumb to my charms.”
A flush stole over her cheeks, giving her away. “You are horrible, Your Grace.”
“Always.”
It was probably what had landed him here, in Purgatory. He could never still his tongue, and he had made no secret of his dislike for the Duke of Arden. To Griffin, the true leader of the Special League would always be the incomparable Duke of Carlisle. The man was a genius and an enigma, a trusted friend and true brother.
The Duke of Arden was an arse and a fool, and a traitorous mutton-headed prig.
“I came here with the notion of helping you,” Lady Violet said then, shocking him.
What could this bright-eyed lovely innocent possibly offer him?
“Helping me how?”
He could think of a few ways in which she might offer assistance. Naked in his bed. Legs open wide. Or on her knees, that pretty mouth open for his cock.
Damn.
If Arden ever allowed Griffin to leave, he needed to visit the always accommodating Lady Willden. This inconvenient attraction to Lady Violet could easily be rectified by Henrietta’s lush body and wicked sense of adventure.
Are you certain it could?whispered an insidious voice inside him.
He tried to think of Henrietta’s face, but all he could see was the dark-haired beauty before him.
“I can help you to investigate,” she said then, smiling as if she had just knitted—er, crocheted—him a bloody seed pouch.
“Investigate,” he repeated.
Was the woman mad? He studied her. She did not appear insane, though shewasthe sister of the Duke of Arden, so her blood was irrefutably tainted…
“Yes. Investigate. I do believe I can elucidate as well as the next lady.”
