“Now then,” he continued. “Which topic shall we address first? The injustice of young men knowing what to expect when they enter the marriage bed or the anatomical differences between the sexes?”
Emily’s facegrew instantly hot. Oh, she was in trouble now and with no one else to blame for it but herself. She eyed Lord Griffin, whose cheeky grin and gleaming eyes bore evidence of a deliberate attempt to tease her. Clearly, she had overestimated her ability to face his straightforwardness because she could not even think of how to respond. Except perhaps with a squeak of dismay, which would not do at all since she was the one who’d initiated this peculiar dialogue.
And now the annoying man was openly laughing.
Emily glared.
“Oh, you must forgive me, Miss Howard, but your face...” Warmth flickered in his eyes along with a hint of regret that made guilt spark in Emily’s heart. “Forgive me, but I could not resist.”
“You did what we agreed to. If anything, it is I who should ask forgiveness for not being able to meet the challenge.”
“I went too far,” he argued. He blew out a breath and knit his brow in a way that made him look slightly lost. “I spoke to you as I once would have done to my brothers. It was a mistake.”
“I gather you’re not as close as you were before you went your separate ways?”
“We’ve lived different lives for the past ten years. Our experiences have been dissimilar and...” He stared into the flames. “It is as if we share a common point in the past from which we’ve all diverged.”
“Do you regret leaving?” she quietly asked.
“No. Staying would have meant following the path my father intended for me.” He met her gaze directly. “He wanted me to be a soldier.”
“And you wished to build mechanical things.”
A grin curved his lips. “I suppose so, even though it took me a while to realize it.”
“So you just went out into the world, unsure of what would become of your life.” She marveled at his courage and his ability to stay away. And then she marveled at her own.
As if reading her mind, he raised his chin a notch. “We’re not so dissimilar, are we? Both running from the mold our parents meant for us to fit into.”
His comment hung in the air for a moment. Accompanied by the dim lighting and the warmth emanating from the fireplace, it added an intimacy between them that made Emily feel uncomfortably vulnerable.
She nodded. “I suppose.” She glanced at their empty plates and mugs. “It’s been a long day and it’s getting late. I think I’ll start cleaning up.”
“I’ll help,” he offered.
Even though they washed and dried the dishes in silence, Emily’s mind whirled with the keen awareness of how undressed he was, his close proximity as he dried the items she handed to him, the intoxicating scent of sandalwood wafting off his person, and the very critical question of where he would sleep.
“If you agree,” he said after putting the flames out in the fireplace so only a few hot embers remained, “I’ll stay in the parlor tonight. On the sofa.”
“I think that would be acceptable,” she said and then winced at how prim she sounded. But relaxing was no easy feat when she and the most gorgeous man in the world would be spending the night together. Beneath the same roof, at least. “I will go find a pillow for you. And an extra blanket.”
The edge of his mouth curved, producing the smile that invariably caused her stomach to flutter. “I would appreciate that, Miss Howard.”
His eyes held hers for a moment, the intensity of his gaze so acute she found herself scorched to the depth of her soul. Unnerved, she turned away and went to locate the items he needed for a good night’s rest, all the while wondering if coming here with him alone would lead to her biggest regret.
5
“We need to make a plan,” Griffin told Emily the following morning when she came to join him in the kitchen. He’d slept abominably on the sofa since it had been at least a foot too short to accommodate him comfortably. So he’d risen early, put on his clothes which were now blessedly dry, and set about preparing some breakfast while pondering his circumstances.
The attraction he felt toward Emily couldn’t be denied, which meant staying here with her like this posed a serious threat, not only to her reputation but to her virtue and his peace of mind. Since he only meant to secure her safety and had no desire to find himself tied down in England through marriage, they would have to act quickly.
“How so?” she asked, stepping further into the room.
Directing his attention away from the eggs he was frying, he looked at her more fully. She was dressed in the same slate blue dress she’d changed into the previous evening, so he ought not have marveled over her appearance. But now, illuminated by the fresh beams of sunlight falling through the beveled glass windows, she made him forget himself for a moment. Instead he considered the way her skin glowed, the fact that her hair, which he’d always considered a plain shade of brown, was more reddish in tone, and how he longed to feel her plush, velvet lips pressed against his once more.
The smell of something burning snapped him out of his reverie, and he hastily removed the pan from the stove. Clearing his throat, he deliberately tamped down the surge of desire rising inside him. Whatever he felt for her was temporary, he told himself. The result of their being alone together without a chaperone. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’d kissed her, that she’d been disappointed by his effort, or that he wanted to prove himself capable of giving her an unforgettable experience. Only danger lay in that direction. Which reminded him of what he’d concluded this morning before she’d risen.
“We cannot remain here together,” he said as he slid the eggs onto a couple of plates. The eggs were slightly blackened around the edges – a testament to the distraction Emily posed.
