Unconventional Suitors 02 - Her Unconventional Hero Read online

Page 11


  When he made it to his study, he quickly found the writing supplies he needed. He lounged back in his chair, both of his hands propped behind his head as he stared up at the wood-beamed ceiling above, hoping to be inspired as to what he should write. He startled when the clock above the mantle chimed the hour, surprised he had been staring at the ceiling so long. Still unsure of the best way to proceed, he finally dipped the quill in the ink pot and began: Lady Adel,

  I warned you once that my skill with the pen left a lot to be desired. I had no clue at the time that you, on the other hand, were quite well skilled in the art of writing. However, I hope that you can look past my in-eloquence to the feelings I am trying to convey.

  I know that my actions have angered you, on more than one occasion, and you have every right to be upset with me. My intent is not to persuade you otherwise, but instead to plead with you to reconsider your desire to disclose my friends’ indiscretions in your column. I wouldn’t dare ask you to exclude me from that exposé; however, I do feel, at the very least, that I would be remiss if I did not ask you to refrain from humiliating Lady Danford in any way. Do what you must to punish me, but please leave her out of it. I know that I am in no position to expect a favor of you, but I would be eternally grateful nonetheless.

  Lord Straton

  Several more minutes ticked by after he finished, the quill still firmly in his hand. He debated whether he should add more, whether he should beg her forgiveness and plead for her to give him another chance, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he tortured himself by reliving their few simple kisses in his mind.

  The taste of her lips had been so intoxicating he could still recall it with perfect clarity. She was innocent yet passionate, more alluring than any other woman he had met. Her kiss wasn’t merely a physical display of emotion; it was so much more. She had kissed him with so much intensity he had felt as if she had gifted him with her soul. He felt like he could see inside of her heart, feel what she felt and want what she wanted. In that all too brief moment, he had felt as if they were truly one.

  It still dumbfounded him, for he had been much more physically involved with women in the past, but never had he been so intimate with one. Was this what it felt like to be in love? His heart broke anew at the thought, for it did him no good to discover it now when there was nothing to be done about it.

  Noticing there was only a small stub of candle left, Griffin forced himself to rise, shaking thoughts of second chances out of his head as he made his way back to his bedchamber, determined to get some sleep and forget about Lady Adel, at least for a few hours.

  Griffin awoke in the middle of the day, a loneliness like he hadn’t felt in a long time consuming him. His valet was waiting patiently to shave and dress him, though Griffin had no desire to go anywhere or see anyone. When his valet was finished with him, he glanced in the looking glass to assess his appearance. Though he was dressed in the height of fashion, his hair expertly styled, his face looked sad, his eyes hollow.

  His first task of the day, even before breaking his fast, was to retrieve and seal the letter he had penned to Lady Adel, instructing it to be delivered posthaste. Once that task was complete, he decided to pay Rose a visit. He wasn’t sure if it was wise to tell her of his foolishness, but he felt an ever-present need to share his sorrow with another.

  Griffin was let into Rose’s townhouse without any hesitation. His concern for his sister grew when he noticed her puffy eyes. “Rose, have you been crying?”

  Rose sniffled as a single tear slid from the corner of her eye. She quickly reached up and wiped it away. “It’s silly; truly it is.”

  Griffin stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What has your husband done this time?”

  “Nothing out of the usual. My sadness isn’t about the baron, I have long ago decided that he does not warrant any emotion from me. I suppose I am just feeling sorry for myself.”

  Looking at her quizzically he asked, “Whatever for?”

  “For losing my new friendship with Lady Adel before it ever truly began. I forgot how lovely it was to have another woman to converse with besides my lady’s maid.”

  Griffin’s heart stilled in his chest, a sinking feeling beginning to overwhelm him. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Rose signaled for him to follow her into the parlor where she retrieved a folded piece of parchment from the small table next to her chair. She extended her arm, handing him the letter which he snatched eagerly from her hands.

  He read the contents of the letter quickly, feeling an odd mixture of anger and sadness at the news that Adel had quit the season and returned to her home in Kent, or at least she was on her way there now.

  He spent an inordinate amount of time refolding the letter, creasing each fold, if only to avoid speaking, for there was nothing he could think of to say. When the silence stretched far too long and awkward between them, Rose finally spoke. “I hope that nothing too tragic has occurred. I hope that her father is well.”

  The concern in Rose’s voice made him feel guilty, for he couldn’t allow her to continue in her worrying when he knew the truth behind her departure. He returned the letter to Rose then motioned for her to sit in her chair before sitting in the one next to her. “It is my fault she has left London,” he stated sadly.

  “Griffin!” she breathed in surprise. “Whatever did you do?”

  Griffin exhaled slowly, running a hand nervously through his hair. “It was all so very foolish of me, I can assure you. I never meant to hurt her or cause her any harm.”

  “What did you do?” Rose asked, her patience wearing thin.

  “Mr. Graham, Lord Dawkins, and myself made a bet with Lord Danford and we lost. Our punishment for losing was that Lord Danford was allowed to dictate who we would wed.”

  Rose interrupted him with an irritated sigh as she rolled her eyes. “You and your stupid friends have been placing bets since you were in short pants, and they have always been foolish. But, I must admit this is the most pathetic one yet. How could you be so callous to give up your right to choose your own wife? Have you no care for your future happiness? Do you wish to end up like me—miserable and lonely?”

  “No, not at all. I hadn’t planned on losing the bet when I issued it so I didn’t care what the terms were. But I did lose and Benedict chose Lady Adel to be my wife.”

  Griffin watched as his sister’s face paled. She was more astute than he gave her credit for. “You told her didn’t you? Griffin, how could you? Do you think that any woman wants to be pursued solely because she is the object of a lost bet?”

  Griffin felt saddened all over again by his sister’s chastisement. “It may have started out that way, but I can assure you that I grew to care for her.”

  Rose was silent as she searched his face. Finally she whispered softly, “You love her, don’t you?”

  A warmth spread through his chest at Rose’s observation. He thought back to their time together, to her beautiful face and he knew it was true. He had come to love her, though he wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened. He was convinced he wouldn’t be this miserable if it weren’t true. He stared into Rose’s eyes and with a simple nod of his head, admitted for the first time that he did indeed love Adel.

  “You must tell her. Go after her and apologize, make it right before it is too late.”

  Griffin closed his eyes wearily as the pain of her angry departure settled over him once more. “It’s already too late. She hates me and is bent on destroying me.”

  “She’s not that kind of person,” Rose said with assurance.

  “I didn’t think so either, but anger can drive a person to extreme behavior. She’s humiliated—“

  “Rightfully so,” Rose interrupted.

  “Yes, rightfully so, and she has promised to get revenge. She is planning to humiliate me and my friends in return.”

  “But how can she do that if she is no longer in Town? I’m certain she was just speaking in anger a
nd meant nothing by it.”

  He looked at Rose, contemplating if he should reveal all to her. He didn’t wish to sully her opinion of Adel, but he suddenly longed to confide everything to her with the hope that, if he did, he would feel better.

  “Have you heard of Mrs. Tiddlyswan’s gossip column in The Morning Post?”

  Rose looked at him strangely, confused by his seeming change in conversation. “No, I can’t say that I have. I do not get the paper.”

  “Of course. Well suffice it to say that it is a well-known column read by nearly every member of the ton. Adel is Mrs. Tiddlyswan.”

  Rose scoffed, “Do not be absurd. That is the most preposterous thing you have ever said.”

  “I wish I were lying, but I am entirely serious. She has been penning the column since the start of the season. She has promised to get her retribution by exposing me and my friends in her column, by humiliating us in return for humiliating her.”

  Rose drummed her fingers repetitively on the wooden table as she stared thoughtfully past Griffin. “Well I cannot say I blame her for wishing to humiliate you, though I am still quite shocked to learn of her alias as Mrs. Tiddlyswan. I never would have guessed she would be so duplicitous.”

  “Me either. I know she didn’t do it for the money, for her father is fairly flush in the pockets. Perhaps she did it simply for amusement. But regardless of her motives, I cannot keep her from writing what she will about me.”

  “Perhaps you can apologize, beg her to reconsider.”

  Griffin looked at her sadly, “I sent her a missive just this morning, doing just that. I am not sure it will do any good, however.”

  Rose huffed in disgust, “Of course it won’t. She has gone to Kent and won’t receive your missive. Sometimes I wonder about you, brother.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. “I suppose you are correct,” he admitted with an air of defeat. Shrugging his broad shoulders he said, “I guess there is nothing to be done about it now except for to wait and see what she will write. I will have to take my punishment like a man and do all I can to repair my reputation afterwards. Good thing the season is almost over and I can escape the prying eyes of the ton for a spell. By the time parliament is back in session this fall, I am certain it will be all but forgotten.”

  “That is highly likely. But what about your heart? Will it be repaired by then as well? Will the passing of time be enough to erase Lady Adel from your memory?”

  Griffin closed his eyes, sadness consuming him fully and completely. No amount of time would ever be able to erase her from his heart. For she was carved so deeply into his soul, he could never rid her from him even if he wanted to, which he most certainly didn’t.

  Chapter 14

  Adel’s body bounced back and forth as the horses plodded along the long drive leading up to Terrace Manor, pulling the carriage, and her, ever closer to home. The two day journey had seemed long and tiresome and she couldn’t wait to embrace the serenity she hoped to find at home.

  Her eyes scanned the vast acreage of her family’s estate as they drove along, one tall oak tree after another passing before her eyes in a blur. She glanced out the window of the carriage in time to see the small family cemetery nestled in the trees a short way from the road come into view. The small pond bordering the centuries’ worth of headstones glistened in the afternoon sunshine. Her eyes shifted to the far left where she knew her mother’s final resting place was, settling on the white stone that marked her grave.

  “I promise I’ll come visit soon,” she promised her mother silently. “I have so much to tell you.”

  There was not a single servant in sight when the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the stately stone manor. Adel had left London in such a rush that there hadn’t even been time to send word to her Father that she was returning. She knew her return would come as quite a surprise to him, but hoped he would be understanding.

  A lone footman scurried out to greet the carriage, helping her to alight. “I’m sorry, my lady, we were not aware you were coming.”

  “That is quite alright. Is father home?”

  “Yes, he is,” the footman said as he bowed.

  Adel walked up to the door and let herself inside. She stood in the foyer, breathing deeply of the familiar scents of home. For a minute she closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine her mother bustling towards her in her excitement, throwing her arms around her and welcoming her home. She nearly smiled at the memory before realizing it was just that—a memory and not reality. When she peeled her eyes open, she was painfully disappointed to only see the family butler, Titus, standing stiffly next to her, watching her solemnly.

  “Lady Adel, what a pleasant surprise. Are you by yourself?” he asked as he looked out the door as if he was expecting more company.

  “Yes, except for Lucy who is accompanying my luggage up to my bed chamber.”

  “I see,” Titus intoned. “Is everything well?”

  She simply nodded to keep her emotions in check. “Is father around?”

  “Yes. Why don’t you wait in the drawing room while I summon him. I will have tea sent in while you wait.”

  “Thank you.”

  Adel waited anxiously for her father in the drawing room, a room with which she was overly familiar. It had only been a few years ago that she had helped her mother choose the peach and ivory striped paper that now adorned the walls. The sage green settee she was sitting primly upon had been her mother’s choice though Adel herself had thought the blue one looked much better with the peach. It wasn’t until every last detail of the room had come together that she had admitted to herself that her mother had been correct in choosing the green settee, for it looked delightful amongst the soft tones of the room.

  A maid brought in tea service and as soon as she left, Adel poured herself a cup, adding a splash of cream before taking a sip of the hot liquid. She was anxious to speak to her father and wondered what was taking so long.

  By the time she had nearly finished her tea, her father walked into the room, stopping in the doorway and clearing his throat. “Adel, what are you doing here?”

  Adel set her teacup down and turned. Her father looked strong and healthy as his tall, lean frame filled the doorway. He looked so much like Katherine, while she had favored their mother. She stood to greet him. “Father,” she managed to squeak out before her voice broke and warm tears began coursing down her face.

  In several quick strides her father was before her. He wrapped her in his arms, guiding her head to his chest as he said, “There, there. Whatever is wrong, my dear?”

  Adel couldn’t stop crying long enough to speak. She had somehow managed to keep all of her tears contained over the last several days, knowing that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Thankfully her father didn’t pry, he just held her until her tears were mostly spent.

  Finally, he pulled back and looked into her face. “You have me dreadfully concerned. I haven’t seen you like this since your mother died.”

  Adel sobbed, “Oh father, I miss her so.”

  Her father pulled her close to him once more. “I do too. Is that what all these tears are about?”

  “Partially,” she admitted, honestly.

  Pulling her to the settee, he sat down next to her and looked into her tear streaked face. “Adel, it’s not that I don’t enjoy seeing you, but aren’t you supposed to be in London? I thought you were enjoying your season.”

  “I was, well somewhat at least.”

  “Please do not give me vague answers. My father’s heart cannot handle seeing you so forlorn. Does Aunt Tabitha know you are here? Did she and Katherine come with you?”

  “No, I came with Lucy. I did not think it fair to ask Katherine to quit the season and I did not wish to cause a scandal by our abrupt departure. I haven’t been feeling well and wished to come home.”

  “Why didn’t Aunt Tabitha send for a physician then? Should I send for one?”

  “No father. Unless a ph
ysician can bring mother back to life or mend a broken heart, it will be useless.”

  Her father sighed sadly. “Sweetheart, I miss your mother too. More than you could ever know or comprehend. When she died, so did a piece of my heart. I loved her more than life. I still love her, but I know that she wouldn’t want us to continue living in misery. Do you think it brings her joy to see you so sad?”

  Adel thought about his question. “No,” she answered honestly.

  “Your mother lived a happy life. You and Katherine were her world, her greatest accomplishments. She wanted nothing more than to see the both of you happy. It would pain her greatly to see you so miserable.”

  Adel had never thought about it like that. “But father, I don’t know how to be otherwise. Sometimes I feel as if the hole her absence created is going to swell so large until it consumes me completely.”

  After a thoughtful pause, her father asked, “Have you been happy at all since your mother’s death?”

  Adel thought back over the nearly year and a half since that horrendous day. It would be a stretch to say she had been deliriously happy, but she had to admit that there were times of happiness. Her thoughts went to her time spent with Griffin, not the times when he was arrogant and vexing, but the times he had opened his soul to her and shown her the true man inside. She briefly thought of his kiss, then felt herself blushing to be thinking of such things in her father’s presence. She quickly pushed those memories away.

  Her father watched her closely. “I can see by your face that there have been times of happiness. What caused you to feel so?”

  “Oh father, it wasn’t true happiness. How could it have been so when it was all a lie? I was just a pawn in his game.”

  Beside her, her father bristled. “Adel, has someone done something inappropriate to you? Has your virtue been compromised?”