And also so bloody tired.
She released her hold on her hair and smiled wryly at her reflection, acknowledging the limits of a healed soul and strength of character. Bone weary, she wanted nothing so much as to lie down. She picked up the rug lying over the back of a wing chair, removed a stack of books from the foot of the chaise, and lay down. Mason could manage the faro table for a while longer, she decided. It was her last thought before she fell deeply asleep.
Griffin found her there well over an hour later, though coming across her in the study was happenstance rather than planned. He’d removed himself from the gaming rooms only a few hours after they’d opened the doors to look in on Nat. The battle being waged in the boy’s room was one that Griffin had discussed at length earlier in the day and rather than insist Nat resume Caesar’s conquest of Gaul on the morrow, Griffin dropped to his knees and took up the cause of the soon-to-be-defeated army.
They’d positioned their men around the table and chair legs to lend the illusion of the forest that divided the Roman and Gaul forces. Nat’s new major general was now Gaius Julius Caesar, credited to be a wily commander in the field. Griffin’s men put up a good fight, but they were no match for the trained and disciplined soldiers from Rome. The end came exactly as history dictated it should, and after surrendering to Caesar, Griffin hauled Nat up, slung him over his shoulder, and dropped him on the bed.
He did not know how he’d been convinced to join the boy. Certainly his own father had never done the same with him, yet Griffin allowed that it was not an unpleasant task to keep the child company until he slept. What he had not anticipated was drifting off in a like fashion.
Griffin found a spot on the chaise where Olivia’s bottom curved out and her knees curled in, and he sat. The rug was haphazardly drawn across her. Her feet poked out at the bottom and her shoulders were bare. He set his candle on the stack of books that had been moved from the chaise, then gently shook Olivia’s arm.
She stirred but did not open her eyes. Her response was sufficient to make Griffin stop shaking her arm and stroke it instead. She liked that infinitely better and murmured her pleasure to make certain he knew it.
“Are you well?” he asked.
Olivia nodded. “Merely fatigued. Have I slept long?”
“I don’t know.” He explained the cause of his disappearance from the gaming rooms. She rewarded him with a beatific smile that made his heart trip over itself. He bent his head and kissed her cheek. “You were still at the faro table when I left and doing most excellently. Did William and Bennet Allworthy trouble you at all?”
She snapped her fingers. “Allworthy. Of course. I could not recall their name. I’m afraid I left their comeuppance in Mason’s hands.” She cocked her head toward the mantel, opened one eye, and regarded the clock. It was gone midnight. That put her on notice immediately. She bolted upright, narrowly missing bumping heads with Griffin. “I need to get back. Mr. Mason must wonder what’s become of me. You also.”
“Not enough, apparently. He has not sent anyone to find us, has he? You know what explains it, don’t you?”
Olivia shook her head as she threw off the blanket.
“Lady Rivendale.”
She stopped wrestling with that part of her gown that was trapped under her legs and stared at him. “Lady Rivendale? You think she’s come in?”
“It would not at all surprise. Would you care to wager?”
“I never bet against the house.” She resumed tugging on her gown and allowed Griffin to assist her. “Would she know my father, I wonder?”
“I couldn’t say. She knows who you are, though.”
“She does?”
“I assume it occurred through her connection to Restell Gardner. Pray, do not ask. Her family tree is surprisingly full-branched in spite of the fact that she has no children of her own.”
Olivia considered that, then offered a somewhat guilty confession. “I’m not certain, but I might have given myself away. She has a way about her, it’s all I can offer as an excuse.”
“It doesn’t matter. She knows everything and is above all discreet.” He frowned a bit as she turned her head. “Olivia?” He caught the underside of her chin with his fingertips and nudged it sideways so that he might have a better view of her cheek. “What happened? That is no pillow wrinkle. Your face is scratched.”
She touched her cheek. “Is it?” She’d looked right past it when she’d studied her reflection earlier. “He wore a ring. I suppose that explains it.” Her skin was faintly warm, but that was a consequence of sleep, not a lingering response to the blow that had pushed her off her feet.
“He?” asked Griffin, but he was already working out the answer. Olivia’s offhanded inquiry about her father and Lady Rivendale suddenly made sense. “Sir Hadrien is here?”
“Was here. He’s gone now, or he should be. I showed him the door, more or less. I do not imagine he is lurking in the gaming rooms. He was disdainful of them, Griffin, and suggested that I was squandering my talents here.” Amusement laced her voice, and she smiled as she shook her head, inviting Griffin to find the humor as well. “He made reference only to cards, but he meant I should apply it to other things as well. Why work in the service of one man when I might work in the service of so many? You will know I was not tempted in the least, so he will likely arrive tomorrow and demand an audience with you. I will be gone, of course, because there is nothing left to be said that I did not already put before him.”
Griffin stared at her. He spoke slowly, trying to make sense of the incongruity between what she said and how she said it. “Your father appeared without invitation or notice, suggested you’d make a better courtesan than a mistress, struck you hard enough to leave his mark, and you find cause there for amusement?”
“Do not forget he was disdainful of your hell.”
“Yes, well, I shall plant him a facer for that,” he said dryly. “As to the rest…” He paused, searching for a manner of death for Sir Hadrien that was outside the common mode.
“As to the rest,” she said, “it is already done. My honor is satisfied.” She took Griffin’s hand in her own. “You did that for me, Griffin. I knew I could be strong because you expected I would be. I believed you first, then I believed in myself.”
“I’m very glad to hear it, but it doesn’t mean you should stand against someone like Sir Hadrien on your own. Good form requires that each participant choose a second. I would have been honored to be yours.”
