“Who is it?” she called.
The door flung open, and Griffin strode into the room with her butler close on his heels.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. The duke would not take no for an answer,” the flustered butler explained.
Meredith closed her eyes briefly. Griffin bursting into her bedchamber was untoward, but she should have expected it. Refusing all of his visits and messages was bound to result in a display like this. Very well. They might as well get it over with. “It’s all right, Jones. You may leave us.”
The butler lifted a brow but nodded and left, closing the door behind him.
Meredith smoothed her hands over the pink-flowered quilt and ensured her voice remained calm. “What are you doing here, Griffin?”
Griffin looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. His cravat was loose, his hair was tousled, and his eyes were red-rimmed. He pushed a hand through his hair and began pacing in front of the bed.
Meredith watched him. He was angry. That much was clear. But what precisely had he come here to say? What elsewasthere to say?
“Do you know how long I’ve waited, Meredith? To tell you I love you?” he began, still pacing.
“No.” Her voice sounded small in the large room.
“Fourteen years. At least. I counted.”
She nodded, her fingers clutching the quilt so tightly her knuckles went white. “So long?”
He continued to plow his fingers through his dark hair. “Fourteen years of adoring you. Wanting to tell you how I felt. And do you know what I told myself for those fourteen years? Even during the years that you were married?”
This was more painful than she’d expected. She gulped and forced herself to ask, “What?”
“I told myself I had to be patient. To find the right time, the right way, to tell you. To convince you that we would be happy together. That we could be more than just friends.”
Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Griffin, please. Don’t?—”
“No. I’ve waitedfourteen yearsand I’m tired of waiting, Meredith. I need to tell you that I’ve loved you desperately since I was a lad.”
“Griffin, I?—”
“I must finish.” He paced faster. “When I was younger, I didn’t think anyone would ever want me when my ownfatherdidn’t. But now, now I’ve finally realized that I never told you the truth because, deep down, I thought I was unworthy of your love.”
“Griffin, please?—”
“I’m nearly done,” he promised.
She nodded and clutched the quilt even tighter.
“Now I know that not only was I worthy of it, I always had your love, first as a friend?—”
“Always as a friend,” she breathed.
He stopped and gazed at her longingly. “I’msorry, Meredith. I’m sorry that I followed you to the club. But I swear I only did it to ensure your safety.”
She swiped at her cheeks. “That’s not why I was so angry, Griffin. You were right. I knew it was you at the club. After that first night at least. And you tried to tell me.”
Griffin’s mouth snapped closed. He obviously hadn’t expected her to say that. “Then whyareyou so angry?”
Meredith closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She forced herself to let go of the quilt, wrapping her arms around her middle instead. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, damn it. I do,” he barked.
Meredith lifted her chin. “I was angry because the night you asked me to marry you all those years ago, I needed you. Not to marry me, not to save me, but to reassure me, to tell me that everything would be all right. I needed you to tell me I’d still have you as my friend, that nothing else would change. Instead, you left, Griffin.You left me.”
