“Perhaps you’ve a quieter room we can use?” Griffin asked. He did not like Miss Howard’s presence amidst the riffraff, for although he was now here to protect her against further harassment, it would not stop the men from ogling her.
“There’s a vacant supper room in the back. Allow me to lead the way.”
Griffin removed his jacket without even thinking, then offered his hand to Miss Howard. She eyed it for a second before accepting it, her fingers carefully curling over his skin in a way that caused heat to flare up inside him. She stood and he draped his jacket over her shoulders.
“Hold it shut with your free hand,” he instructed.
She did not argue, for which he was grateful. Apparently she was not completely devoid of common sense, as her hasty departure from Camberly House and her rash decision to come here would have suggested. He kept her close to his side while leading her forward, past some drunken patrons and into the room the innkeeper had to offer. It contained a table and four chairs, nothing more.
Griffin reached inside his trouser pocket and pulled out a couple of shillings. “For your troubles,” he said, handing the coins to the innkeeper. “Do you have minced meat pie?” The man nodded and Griffin affected a pleased smile. “We’ll have two plates of that then and a bottle of your best red wine.”
The innkeeper pocketed the shillings without comment and left. Griffin closed the door. He turned to face Miss Howard, her hand still clutching the front of his jacket. “The wine will help ease your nerves,” he told her.
“Yes. Thank you.” She spoke as if in a daze, then blinked and removed the jacket and held it toward him.
Griffin stared. At Camberly House he’d been so distracted by Mr. Bale, and by Miss Howard’s possible reason for venturing into the garden with him, he hadn’t really considered what she was wearing. The gown was a vibrant shade of blue, far too bold for a debutante to wear but acceptable, he supposed, for a more mature woman considered to be firmly on the shelf.
He flexed his fingers and tried not to let his gaze linger too long on the low dip of her décolletage or on the swell of her perfect bosom. “You should keep that for now. Until you reach your destination.”
Her eyes widened. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“I insist.”
“But won’t you be cold without it?”
He snorted. “Not in the least.” Indeed he was hot as hell at the moment. “Certainly no more than you.”
She pressed her lips together, and he could practically hear her mind trying to come up with further arguments against his effort to cover her up, but then she sighed and put the jacket back on, and Griffin breathed a sigh of relief. Her beauty alone would likely drive him mad by morning. The last thing he needed was the additional lure of her body when all he could think of right now was that they were alone, away from Society, and perfectly free to continue where they had left off earlier.
He gestured toward the chair closest to her and waited for her to sit before claiming the one opposite. A waiter arrived with their wine and swiftly departed with the assurance that their meal would be ready soon.
“About the kiss,” Griffin said once they’d both had a sip of their wine and he’d spent a good minute or two determining how to best broach the subject. Eventually, he’d decided to be direct, since this would be the most efficient course. “I have no regrets,” he assured her.
She met his gaze directly, refusing to shy away even as her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. He had to admire her for that.
“Thank you.”
He hadn’t expected her to reciprocate the sentiment, but he realized now that he wished she had. “It would seem that you do, however, for which I am sorry.”
She knit her brow as if pondering something important, and then she expelled a long sigh and sagged in her chair. “I could have stopped it from happening, but I did not do so, which means I am just as much to blame.”
“And then you ran away.” Somehow this was worse than if he’d proposed and she’d turned down his suit. It proved how determined she was to avoid an attachment to him. Which grated, even though it should not do so.
Why did her wanting him matter so damn much?
“If I’d stayed, my mother would have spoken to my father and then he would have had no choice but to make demands which would have led to a duel if you’d refused and—”
“I would not have refused,” he told her calmly.
She clenched her jaw, her eyes lit with fierce understanding. And yet, she still mistook his meaning. “I don’t want to force any man into marriage. Least of all when it is unnecessary to do so.”
“Your mother may disagree with you there.”
Miss Howard took another sip of her wine. “She will never accept that I won’t be anyone’s wife.” A hint of pain in her voice caused Griffin’s heart to contract. “But I lost my chance at matrimony a long time ago. No,” she added when he prepared to point out that the chance she spoke of had just been presented to her, only she’d turned it down. “Being forced into matrimony for the sole purpose of placating others does not count.”
“And yet you still chose to give the whole kissing business a go, even though you knew the risk.” He spoke with a lighter tone than earlier, deliberately waggling his eyebrows in an effort to lighten the mood.
It worked. More or less.
