A Dangerous Love (41 page)

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Authors: Sabrina Jeffries

Tags: #Historical, #Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: A Dangerous Love
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But Griff never did anything to be polite. He watched her expectantly, and he held a satchel tucked under his arm. She felt a twinge of guilt to see lines of weariness etched into his brow and black circles under his eyes. He looked as if he’d been eating and sleeping as little as she. Surely that showed he loved her, didn’t it? Perhaps not the way she loved him, but—

“You were wonderful,” he said as she reached him, his voice barely lifting above the din backstage. A faint smile touched his lips. “But I knew you would be.”

“Thank you.”
I love you
.

They stood apart, awkward, so much to be said and both uncertain how to begin.

He cleared his throat. “I see you decided to start on those bawdy passages of Shakespeare without me.”

She had no chance to answer before a young man pushed between them to thrust a half-wilted bouquet of flowers at her. “Miss Laplace, you outshone them all!”

Not sure what else to do, she took the flowers and murmured another “Thank you,” though this one was distinctly wooden.

The young man leered down at her breasts. “A
few of us are having a late dinner at the Crown and Anchor, and we’d love it if you joined us.”

“No, I—”

“We’re not taking no for an answer, are we, Darnley?” another young man interjected as he joined his friend. He winked at her. “Two of the other girls are coming with us. You’ve got to come. It’ll be jolly good fun.”

She glanced at Griff, but he just stood there silently, with an uncharacteristic reserve. Though she didn’t know what to make of it, she certainly had no desire to go off with these two coxcombs. She leveled a cold gaze on them. “I’m afraid I have a prior engagement.”

She started to push through them to get to Griff, but the one named Darnley slid his arm about her waist. “At least give us a chance to talk you into it, won’t you?”

“I believe the lady told you she wasn’t interested, Darnley,” Griff bit out as he stepped forward to clasp her arm. “And her prior engagement is with me, so why don’t you and Jenkins find another actress to play with?”

Darnley blinked at Griff. “Knighton! I beg your pardon. We didn’t see you there, old chap.”

Griff just glared at him until Darnley dropped his arm and pulled his friend away, grumbling.

“Could we talk privately?” he then asked her in a low voice. “Kemble has offered me the use of his office. That is, if you’re willing to come with me.”

“Of course I’ll come with you.”

This sudden odd restraint of his worried her. She let him draw her through the throng and down the backstage stairs, but his silence preyed upon her imagination until she could stand it no longer. “Thank you for stepping in with those two.”

“You know who they are, don’t you?” he said tightly.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

“Darnley is the Marquess of Darnley. And his companion Captain Jenkins is his cousin and Prinny’s current favorite. They both attended Eton with me.” He shot her a bleak look. “Perhaps now you regret rebuffing them.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Deliberately, she tossed the bouquet aside. “I wouldn’t even have let it go as far as it did if they hadn’t taken me by surprise.”

“Taken you by surprise?” he grumbled. His eyes scoured her costume, narrowing as they focused on her low-hung bodice. “I don’t see why. That gown is designed to have half the male audience slavering over you.”

Cheered by his jealousy, she ventured a smile. “Mama’s friend, Mrs. Inchbald, gave it to me.”

“I see I must have a chat with the woman if you plan to keep using her costumes.”

Her heart sank. That didn’t sound like a renewal of his proposal. But then, why was he here, asking to speak to her privately?

As soon as they reached Mr. Kemble’s office and went inside, he released her arm, further heightening her distress. He strode away from her to Mr. Kemble’s desk and set down his satchel. For a moment, he stood there with his back to her, making her more uneasy the longer he remained silent.

The room was cold, though there was a fire lit. Nervously, she rubbed her bare forearms and tried to read Griff’s mood. She’d expected recriminations, accusations, and certainly more of his attempts to seduce her. Not this unnatural quiet. Not from Griff. Then he faced her, and the stark pain in his expression made her breath catch in her throat.

“I want you to know,” he said, “that I’ve spent the last few days becoming intimately acquainted with my black soul. I’d never examined it before, but after your father held a mirror up to it, then you, and finally my mother, I could hardly ignore the image. I confess it was an ugly one. Resentments lurked there that I’d never recognized; vanities were exposed to the light so vexing I couldn’t bear the sight of them.”

“Oh, Griff—” she began.

He forestalled her with a quick wave of his hand. “Let me say it all first before you say anything. Please?”

She nodded, though what she really wanted wasn’t to speak but to enfold him in her arms and kiss away his hurts.

He shifted his gaze to the curtained window at her right, as if looking at her was more than he could stand. “One thing that became horribly clear to me was that you were right. About everything—my ambition, my selfishness, everything. You were certainly right about my reasons for wanting Knighton Trading to succeed. I realized it the morning after you left me when I dreamed—”

Breaking off, he rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “Let’s just say I had a dream that made me finally understand myself. You said I wanted to lash out at those who’d called me bastard to ‘grind their noses’ in it. That was true, but it was even smaller than that. I wanted to strike back at my boyhood tormentors, a lot of children who’d long ago ceased to matter. Everything I wanted came down to that—a need to beat a lot of stupid Eton dandies like Darnley and Jenkins, a need to show them I was better. To do it, I was even prepared to act like a child myself—spoiled and selfish and caring only about what I wanted.”

She hadn’t thought her words had affected him so. He’d seemed so angry over them that night.

A muscle jerked as he clenched his jaw. “I finally realized that all my hopes for China came down to that. In truth, Knighton Trading was fine without my having a spot on that delegation, and I knew it. I wouldn’t admit it, but I knew it.” His gaze swung back to her. “As its owner—as a grown man rather than a child—I should have seen how contemptible my plans were. You saw it. Daniel saw it. Even your damned father saw it. The part of me that still had a sliver of conscience saw it, too, or I would never have attempted to gain your hand in marriage without telling you of the certificate. Still, I ignored my conscience until you left me.”

She held her breath, moved beyond words by his obvious remorse. Dear God, how she loved him!

“I came to tell you that I do see it now, that I see it and regret it, that I’m sorry for all that my plans may have cost you. And I came to give you something.” Turning to the desk, he removed some papers from the satchel. When he faced her, he held them out.

Not sure what to expect, she took the papers warily.

“The document on top you will recognize,” he said hoarsely. “It’s the certificate. I have my mother’s permission to give it to you.” When she glanced up at him, perplexed, he added with a wry smile, “You see, one thing you taught me was that I ought to consult all the parties concerned, instead of pursuing my plans as if only I was involved. Since the certificate was my mother’s before your father stole it, I thought she should have a say in how it’s used. She agreed I could give it to you.”

Her throat felt clogged with happy tears as she stared down at the piece of paper that had brought so much grief to so many.

“You will need it after your father dies,” he went on, “in order to execute that second document in your hand.”

Seized by curiosity, she flipped to the next document and stared at it. It was a contract of some kind, written in typically impenetrable legal language.

“That document assigns ownership of Swan Park to you and your sisters when your father dies and I inherit.” When her gaze flew to his, he added with a hint of remorse, “That was the only legal way to accomplish it, I’m afraid. As his daughters, you can’t inherit it, and only after I’m proven the legitimate heir can I even give it to you. But if you use the first to prove I can inherit, then you can exercise the second that allows the three of you to receive it from me as a gift.”

Pure shock kept her silent. Could this be the same man who’d manufactured an elaborate masquerade so he could regain the title withheld from him? Could he actually be giving away not only the title, but the property and everything in it?

As if sensing her disbelief, he said, “It’s all legal, I assure you.” He flashed her a wan smile. “I had to stand over my solicitor and his clerks to get it finished in time for tonight, but it’s legal. If you don’t believe me, take it to an attorney or—”

“I believe you.” Fear suddenly seized her chest, making her heart thump madly. “But does this…does this mean you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

“We’re getting to that.” A desolate pain scored his brow. “I want to marry you more than ever. But I want you to choose me because you want me, too. You can’t choose freely if you’re encumbered by responsibilities to your sisters. If you own Swan Park, then you have a choice. If you don’t marry me, this will enable you to—” His voice cracked a
little. “Make your way on the stage if you like or manage the estate. Either way, you and your sisters will be provided for. It’s a small enough thing to offer in repayment for my…base behavior.”

She could hardly bear his self-recrimination anymore. “Please, Griff—”

“Let me finish, my sweet.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if marshaling his strength. When he continued, his tone was wrought with guilt. “Among the hard truths I’ve had to acknowledge in the past few days, one was that I treated you and your family badly. Perhaps your father deserved it—I don’t know—but none of the rest of you did. I manipulated you, lied to you, and seduced you, yet you forgave me. Until I held firm about my stupid title—a title I’d never really needed, that I only thought I needed.”

He leaned back against the desk, gripping the edges until his knuckles gleamed white. “You probably won’t be surprised to learn that I really hadn’t thought I’d done anything wrong, not until after you left Swan Park. Then I realized that any woman so hurt by my actions that she would risk danger and uncertainty to be free of me must be desperate indeed. And I’d driven you to that desperation. I’d driven you away.”

Staring off past her, he went on in a choked voice. “That’s when I knew the truth. You said I didn’t know how to love. Well, about that one thing, you were wrong. Perhaps I didn’t know how before, but I do now.” His gaze met hers, fierce, intent. “I love you. I’ll always love you. After you left, I realized that my greatest fear was losing you. It mattered more to me than the certificate or the China delegation. It mattered more to me than Knighton Trading.”

Her heart felt full to bursting with her own love
for him, yet it was clear he wasn’t finished, and now she desperately wanted to hear it all.

He shoved away from the desk, approaching her with solemn determination. “You once accused me of having a mistress with whom you could never compete. Well, my love, I’m relinquishing my mistress. To you.” Gesturing to the papers in her hand, he added, “That last document assigns to you the ownership of Knighton Trading.”

“What?” she exclaimed, half-certain he was joking.

“I’m giving you the only thing I own of any worth. It’s yours now. You may keep me on as manager or clerk or whatever you wish. Or dismiss me. It’s your choice.”

“Oh, my love—”

“If you choose to marry me, of course, Knighton Trading will once more belong to me as your husband, but as far as I’m concerned, it matters not—you’ll still have a say in the running of it. Therefore you needn’t worry that it means more to me than you. And if you choose not to marry me—” He glanced away as if that possibility were too painful to contemplate. “Then none of it matters anyway. Because I’ve discovered in the past few days that without you, my life is nothing. At least this way I’d have the satisfaction of knowing I’d given you the wealth to ensure you a happy life.”

“A happy life?” She looked at the tormented man she loved, who’d faced his own darkness for her. It was her turn now. Walking to the fireplace, she threw the documents for Swan Park onto the low-burning fire. “I told you before that running Swan Park would not make me happy.”

As they burst into flame, her heart lightened, floated. She tossed the documents for Knighton Trading on top, her happiness soaring as high as the
smoke rising from the fiery consumption of all her fears. “And I’m bloody certain that running a trading concern—even as your partner—could not make me happy.”

The certificate, she folded carefully and tucked in the band of her skirt. “This, however, I shall keep.” With her heart brimming over, she returned to where he stood watching her uncertainly. “We’ll need it for our son someday, won’t we?”

As hope softened Griff’s features, she cupped his face tenderly between her hands. “There’s just one thing I require for a happy life, and it isn’t your wealth. But only you can give it to me. Indeed, it’s the only thing I want from you.”

“What is that?” he choked out, his wonderful blue eyes riveted on her face.

“You. Your heart. Your love. Your—”

Hauling her into his arms, he kissed her sweetly, achingly, a kiss that promised more love than she’d expected from any man, but certainly from him. When he drew back, that same love shone in his dear face. “You have it, all of it,” he said earnestly. “My wealth, my heart, my love. Marry me, and you may do as you wish—strut the stage, run Swan Park, or lie about all day while I feed you apple tarts. But never leave me again, darling, for I can’t bear the thought of living without you.”

“Nor can I.” Feverishly, she pressed kisses to his cheeks, his chin, his broad temple. Joy danced through her, sweeping away all her uncertainties. He loved her so much he’d wanted to sacrifice everything for her happiness. How could a woman resist a man like that?

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