“No milk or sugar?” Emily asked when Griffin refrained from adding either.
“I’m not particularly fond of sweet drinks and milk just dilutes the flavor.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I quite agree.”
He glanced at her cup and the edge of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t expect to have that in common.” His expression turned pensive. “You might actually be the first woman I’ve met who takes her tea plainly.”
Emily gave him a rueful look. “My mother used to feed me cakes because she believed I’d do better on the marriage mart if I had some meat on my bones.”
“Which is probably true to some extent. I don’t care for scrawniness myself.”
Emily snorted. “Oh, there was never any danger of me ending up at that end of the spectrum.” She sobered as she thought back on the years when her mother had fretted over her future. “As the eldest daughter, I was something of an experiment.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been very trying for you.”
She nodded. By the time her second season had begun, she’d doubled in size. “Clearview was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
A horn sounded, causing Lord Griffin to glance at the door. “Time to go.” He stood and offered Emily his hand.
Heat darted up her arm as soon as she made contact with him, and for a second she was tempted to pull away as if scorched. But her refusal to let him see how easily he affected her compelled her to close her fingers around his instead.
There.
Not an impossible feat.
She raised her gaze to his and sucked in a breath. The way he looked at her caused her legs to grow weak and her belly to flutter.
A knowing smile tugged at his lips, and a gleam appeared in his eyes. Emily realized in that instant that he was aware of her visceral response to his touch, but before she could think of something to say, some means by which to distract from the truth, he was leading her out to the courtyard and to their awaiting coach.
As the lastpassengers to board, Griffin and Miss Howard were forced to take the remaining seats, which were on the same bench, closest to the door. “I’ll sit in the middle,” he told her when he handed her up.
Standing with one foot on the step and the other in the doorway of the coach, she leaned forward to peer inside and then glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I think you will have more space if I take the middle.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“But—”
“I will sit in the middle.” Because the alternative would be to let her sit pressed up against a scruffy looking fellow whom Griffin didn’t trust to sit shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful woman.
“Very well,” Miss Howard agreed. “But only because I do not wish to trample on your good intentions.”
She disappeared into the coach and Griffin followed her inside. He greeted the other passengers, a portly man in a brown suit, an old woman who stared at him through her spectacles, and a young, eager-looking lad. “Good morning,” he said and lowered himself to his designated spot. The scruffy fellow next to him shifted, politely adding more space.
Griffin thanked him as the door slammed shut. Perhaps he’d misjudged him, but even so, he knew he’d made the right decision by preventing Miss Howard from sitting beside him, for although his manners were good, his odor was not.
The coach rolled forward with a jolt, and Griffin averted his face from the man beside him in a pointless attempt to ignore the smell of sweat wafting off his person. He smothered a cough and gave his attention to Miss Howard. Perhaps a bit of conversation would distract him.
“Do you think you would have married if your mother had not been so...” He searched his brain for an appropriate word to describe the woman without causing insult.
“Domineering?” Miss Howard asked before he could think of one.
Griffin shrugged, which caused his arm to move against the entire length of her side. She shifted against him, undoubtedly trying to give him more room, but the tight space would not allow it. Instead, her thigh rubbed against his in the most seductive way.
Christ.
This was not the time or place for arousal. He tried to focus on what they’d been talking about before she’d drawn his attention to their close proximity with each other. Ah yes. Her mother.
His ardor cooled with unsurprising swiftness.
