When long minutes passed and she realized she would not sleep, Olivia finally surrendered, tossing the blankets aside and scrambling out of bed. She shrugged into her robe just as her teeth began to chatter and danced a bit on the cold floor until she found her slippers. She paused in front of the fireplace, taking advantage of its meager heat before she dashed out of the room.
Olivia did not think better of her flight until she arrived at Griffin’s door. She stared at it, gently tested its handle, then paced off a dozen steps on either side of it before she determined there was nothing for it but that she should go forward.
“Did you mean to be stealthy?” Griffin asked as Olivia backed herself into his room. “If so, you are sadly out of it.”
Olivia jumped and spun. She squealed. The high-pitched sound was altogether unfamiliar to her, and she clamped one hand over her mouth so neither of them would have to hear it again.
Griffin touched one palm to his ear. “That was unpleasant.”
“You scared me to death.”
“Obviously not.”
She glared at him, hoping the expression was not lost in the dimly lighted room. In the manner of an accusation, she asked, “Why are you still awake?”
Griffin’s eyebrows rose in tandem. “Because I am not asleep?” He lifted the book resting on his lap. “I find reading requires a conscious mind, though apparently not the writing of it.” He closed the book and laid it aside. “This work is wholly impenetrable.”
Curious, Olivia approached the bedside table and lifted the leather-bound book before he could pull it back. Laughter stuttered from her lips. “Why, it is a Gothic novel. You, my lord, are a fraud. It could not be a more straightforward tale, and the writing is elegant in its precision.”
Griffin knew himself to be vaguely abashed. He held out his hand for the book. “A guilty pleasure,” he said, reaching out to snatch it from her. When he laid it down this time, he purposely set it on his other side. “I have not failed to notice that you are not sleeping either. As it seems unlikely that you came here to discuss literature, and as you were bent on slipping into my room without announcing yourself, it would perhaps be prudent to explain yourself at this juncture.”
“I was going to wake you,” she said somewhat defensively.
“I should hope so.” He adjusted a pillow at the small of his back and rested his head against the polished walnut headboard. “It is disconcerting to think you meant to smother me in my sleep.”
Olivia blinked. “I would not—oh, you are teasing. I didn’t realize…” She took a steadying breath, pressed her palms flat against her thighs. “There was no discussion of what you will require of me. When we did not speak of it earlier, it did not occur to me that we would not speak of it at all.”
“Is it so important that we speak of it now?”
“Yes. I think it is.” Otherwise she would never sleep, although she knew better than to tell him that. “You will have some terms, I collect, and I should like to know what they are.”
“I did not put them to paper, Olivia.” He moved his legs to one side and made room for her on the edge of the bed. “Sit down. Come. You have already bearded the lion.”
Olivia sat. She folded her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead, giving him only her profile limned in candlelight.
“I suppose you wish I’d been sleeping,” he said.
She nodded.
“Could I have expected you to crawl into my bed? Mayhap wind your arms around me? Your knees at the back of mine? It is not an unpleasant way to be awakened. Is that what you meant to do?”
“Yes.”
Griffin gave her full marks for not dissembling. “Why?”
“To have done with it.”
He chuckled low in his throat. “Pray, do not spare my feelings.”
She glanced at him, unapologetic but mildly embarrassed that she had been so forthright. “I was unaware any of your feelings were engaged. If that is the case, I will choose my words more carefully.”
He shook his head. “I hope you will not. Candor is an admirable quality and not practiced nearly often enough. I recall you telling me on the occasion of our first meeting that you are not a romantic.”
Had she? “I find it odd that you remember.”
“I remember a great many things from that interview. You also informed me that while you were not by inclination a romantic, you held out the hope that others might be.”
“Fodder for poets and dreamers, else what would they have to hang their hats on?”
