A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (19 page)

"Your manners Rothburn!"  His mother interrupted him with a cold glance of her own.

Damnation!
How could a fellow get on with his mother standing by to thwart him at every turn?

Sir Gordon, thoroughly enjoying a conversation with Griffin, as well as the many nuances going on around him, had a longing for Lady Eleanor and wished he'd had the foresight to invite her and her parents to dine.

It would've made for an even livelier entertainment, he was sure. Lord Avonleigh was every bit as eccentric as Rothburn's parent and his wife as outspoken, if a bit less foolish. Excepting, of course, her taste in décor.

"Sir?" Griffin's voice penetrated his musings and Sir Gordon flushed with embarrassment at having been caught out wool gathering. He turned his attention to the younger man and smiled.

"Sorry. Just thinking of someone—ah, something, that is." With amusement, he eyed Griffin's attention drifting across the table—not for the first time tonight. "Are you for a game of billiards after our Port?"

He teased the younger man, knowing full well he would be sent to the far end of the drawing room to chat with Allie and would not take kindly to having it put off by a game of billiards or any diversion, for that matter.

"What? Billiards, Sir?" Griffin tugged at his collar, showing his discomfiture, and his voice—normally quite deep and manly—took on a higher pitch. "I think not. Hadn't you planned for Allie and me to have our talk after dinner?"

The note of hope in his voice was not lost on Sir Gordon, who decided to take pity on the poor fellow, having been through quite an emotional ringer himself  in the last twenty-four hours.

"Oh, quite right. I had forgotten." He lied smoothly but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away and Griffin grinned at him, catching on quickly.

His face turned solemn of a sudden, however, and he leaned close, speaking in a low voice. "Sir, you must know this is very serious for me and her as well. Sorry I cannot find much humor in the situation. Truth be known, afraid she'll reject me. Don'tcha know?"

"Ah yes, my boy. I know very well what you're feeling. Went through it just this afternoon. Came out very well though, I believe. Lady was reluctant to see me go. Have a date to trot her through the park tomorrow." Glancing at Allie and back at Griffin, he queried. "If she doesn't put a flea in your ear, would you like to join us?  You and Allie, that is."

"I would like that above all things. If, as you say, she don't put a flea in my ear. Ain't spoke to me all night, never looks at me either. Do you think she's gone off me?"

Griffin looked genuinely worried and Sir Gordon was compelled to ease the lad's mind. "I do not believe you have noticed it, but my sister can't keep her eyes off you. Women have such a talent for peeking at one without being noticed. They are uncanny, I tell you. Can sense when a man looks away and they dart their little glances, then bam! They turn away before we can catch them."

Griffin then proceeded to spend the rest of the dinner trying to catch Allie staring at him, and discovered Sir Gordon was right. Never once did he actually catch her out, but several times he swore he nearly did.

"Lovely girl, that niece of yours. Perhaps I should have her for Rothburn." Lady Rothburn laughed loud and long at the stricken look upon Lady Alana's face, drawing the attention of the other diners, who could not hear her whispered words.

Yet they could not help but hear her laughter. "Oh, do stop looking so. You must learn when I am kidding or you may take a stick to me some day when I least deserve it."

The Countess was satisfied to see a tentative smile on the younger woman's face. "Now let us retire and leave the gentlemen to their Port."

Normally that prerogative would have been Lady Alana's or Allie's, for that matter, but they had become accustomed already to the Countess of Rothburn and her rather unconventional behavior, so they did not demur when she suggested their withdrawal.

Allie, nervously pleating her napkin, was glad to follow as she had been totally thrown off balance by Griffin's constant darting glances. Her own eyes were compelled in his direction, making her subterfuge of indifference even more difficult as the night wore on.

The gentlemen rose from their seats as the ladies moved from the room. Rothburn's gaze burned a hole of longing into Lady Alana's exposed nape, sending shivers along her spine that were nothing if not pleasant.

* * * * *

"Well, we are nearly done with this escapade." Lady Susan, who planned to put the two young people at one end of the long drawing room while she and Lady Alana kept a vigil at the other end, was in high spirits.

"Soon, my young lass, you will know your heart and perhaps if you are fortunate, you will know his as well." She winked at the girl, much in the fashion she had done with the aunt earlier, and proceeded to seat herself in the most comfortable chair near the fire.

Allie, too restless to sit and chat, wandered to the windows, then to the bookcases where she selected a novel she could not concentrate upon.

Finally, she closed the book and gave over to staring into the fire, calmed by the darting yellow and blue flames.

Griffin appeared and went to stand by his aunt, as instructed. Wont to snuggle down in her chair and take a nap after a heavy meal and four glasses of Port, the Countess managed to prevail and her nephew escorted her to the drawing room.

Lady Alana nodded to Allie, who rose and followed with her  aunt, pulse pounding in her throat.

"We shall just leave you two here to get on with your little talk." The Countess looked sternly at Griffin and intoned in a grave melodramatic voice, "The pair of you are not to leave this area. You may get up and move around, of course, but you must stay within our sight at all times."

With that, she touched Lady Alana's sleeve and the two women departed to the far end of the room to sit by the fire.

Griffin stared at Allie—fully at her—and Allie stared back. It was the first eye contact they had shared this whole evening and both were jolted by the intensity of feeling that coursed between them.

Griffin could have sworn Allie had actually looked at him with longing, but he could not be sure as her face had immediately become a mask of indifference. Then she moved to sit at the round study table.

Griffin took the chair opposite her. He was careful not to let his knees touch hers, lest she take offence and withdraw. Silence stretched between them as Griffin gripped the edge of the mahogany surface and looked at the wall behind her.

He could not find words open the conversation. Frantic, he tried to order his scattered thoughts, uncertain how to begin. Hoping Allie might speak first, he waited.

Allie knotted her hands together and placed them atop the table, as she too stared beyond Griffin's broad shoulder at the wall behind him. She would not be the first to speak. She waited.

The clock on the mantel struck ten o'clock, then the sweep hand moved to five past. Still, neither of them had made a move to open the conversation.

Allie, grown morose, could hardly hold back tears, and thought of running from the room. She started to rise, a sob crowding her throat. Griffin's hand stole across the table and touched hers. She blinked back the tears poised on her lashes and paused.

Griffin swallowed hard, as her hand trembled beneath his, evoking a desire to defend her, keep her safe. Reminded of the incident with Beasley, he spoke harshly. "I would have killed the bastard, had I been there. I may still do so." His eyes sought hers with such fierce protectiveness her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh, never say so, Griffin!" Allie, knowing that he alluded to poor Beasley and knowing that she had used the fellow abominably, could not countenance such a move. "I must tell you what happened."

She lowered her gaze to her clasped hands. "I haven't told anyone," she began, and lifted her eyes to his with an imploring look, "and you must promise never, never to tell anyone."

"I do so promise, Allie. I give you my word of honor." Griffin put his hands over her tightly clenched fists. "Pray tell me."

Allie whispered her confession. "At Lady Beasley's ball, I was spying on Rothburn and my aunt. They went out into the garden and so I asked Beasley to take me out for fresh air. He did not try to kiss me. I thought myself quite safe with him, you see, for he was the perfect gentleman."

Then he
did
try to kiss me and when I resisted, he grabbed at me.

"When he continued his pursuit, I pushed him and he fell into the gooseberry bush—"

She fixed Griffin with an indefinable look. "He is so much without dash or charm, you know. I really do feel quite sorry for Beasley, for he is not a bad sort. Just not a dasher, if you will. And he so wants to be."

"Allie, do let me interrupt for just a moment." Griffin squeezed her hands reassuringly and posed his question. "Why did you want to spy upon your aunt and Rothburn?"

"I thought it was because I wanted to make sure that they were going to make a match and I liked them both so well, that I thought I could help."

She smiled for the first time and Griffin's heart skipped a beat. "But I guess what I really wanted was to discover that is, I wished to know—"

She looked at him helplessly, unable to admit her shameful secret, only just realized. Gathering strength from his understanding gaze, she went on in a mere whisper so he leaned closer, ignoring the loud harrumph from the opposite end of the room, followed by a shushing noise.

"I wanted to know what magic drew them. I could not see them, of course, for I was on the other side of the hedgerow, but I could tell that they were kissing and I—"

Large tears gathered in her eyes and she could not speak for a moment. Then, "I had never been kissed and I wanted so to know—"

"Allie, look at me." Griffin interrupted, his voice commanding. "Come now, let me see those lovely eyes." He brushed his knuckles along her jaw line then spread his fingers beneath her chin, lifting her face so their eyes were on a level.

"I will teach you all you ever need know about love and kissing and the magic between a man and a woman." He smiled at her and his eyes danced with laughter. "If those two would disappear for a few moments, I would begin right now."

Allie giggled and gulped—laughing and crying were so difficult to do at the same time. The sweet dimple Griffin so loved danced in her cheek and she pressed her face against his hand as he lifted it to caress her creamy skin. "I would that they were gone as well, Griffin."

She gazed at him, heart in her eyes, and his pulse raced wildly.

"I would love to kiss that sweet dimple in your cheek, just there," he whispered as his fingers traced the outline of that indentation.

"And put my lips just there," he traced her swollen lower lip with a fingertip. "Oh Allie, I do love you and I'm so sorry that I went away. I cannot think what came over me."

"I know just what came over you, Griffin. I read your letter, you know." She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled forth a crumpled, tear-stained page. "See? I have even kept  it."

"Yes, but whatever did you
do
to it?" Griffin surveyed the damaged sheet with its curled, burnt edges and a tear nearly through the center. He noticed as well the splotches where her tears had dropped and the ink had run. "Oh well," he sighed, "I guess I shall never write another of these."

She straightened and withdrew her hands. "Whatever do you mean?"

"If what I write makes you cry and toss my letters into the fire, it would be wrong of me to write to you." His hands sought hers once again, the letter crushed beneath their embrace.

"You are going away again, Griffin?" A lump formed in her throat and tears threatened to spill over once more, giving Allie's eyes a very glassy look. She had entirely forgotten her aunts instructions on aloofness.