Too Tempting to Resist (24 page)

“Gryff,” she murmured. “Mmmm, perhaps I shall tattoo a gryphon on your flesh. To keep your dragon company.”

He laughed. “Oh, my love, I trust that my dragon will not be lonely from now on.”

Eliza felt the stirring beneath the flap of his breeches as he rolled atop her.

“There is just one thing missing from our perfection.”

“There is?” Eliza arched her hips into his. “I can’t think of what.” But then, her brain wasn’t working all that clearly.

“It’s lacking a ‘yes’ from you.”

“Remind me again—what was the question?” Eliza wrapped her arms around his shoulders, reveling in the slabbed strength of his chiseled muscles and the soft caress of his curling hair against her cheek.

“My powers of persuasion must be slipping.” Her skirts were now bunched around her waist. Grass tickled her thighs, sending shivers of silky heat coursing through her body. “Here, let me try again,” he said just as his mouth possessed hers.

It was some minutes later before she could speak again. Staring up at the sky, Eliza heaved a sated sigh as her body came back down to earth.

“A whoosh of air? I make mad, passionate love to you, and that’s all you have to say?” Gryff pulled her close and nibbled at her ear. “I’m prepared to keep you imprisoned here for days—or weeks—until I hear the word I want.”

“Hmmm, sounds delicious. But we’re all out of tarts.”

“Then we’ll have to survive on the nectar of love.” His lips were now on the hollow of her throat. “Say ‘yes,’ Eliza.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, smiling at the huff of surprise that skittered against her skin. “So, the lordly marquess is not used to having anyone fail to bow to his wishes?”

“You know that you’ll never need to fear that I will seek to shackle your spirit or your dreams.” Gryff lifted his gaze, the gold-green depths turning molten with longing in the slanting sunlight. “I want to watch your marvelous talents blossom, and share a lifetime of growth together.”

That look told her all that she wanted to know.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes.”

The glint grew brighter. Lighter. And in it she saw mirrored her own happiness.

“Yes!” This time it was loud enough for the mourning doves nesting in the nearby thicket to hear.

“Yes!” The wind caught the word and swirled it skyward.

“Thank heavens.” Gryff grinned. “I was beginning to worry that I might have to starve you into submission.”

“I could stay here forever, just drinking in the sight of you,” she said, watching his raven hair dance in wind-ruffled splendor, framed by the cloudless blue sky. “But I suppose we should return to Leete Abbey in time for supper.”

“You are hungry already?” Gryff smoothed at the front of his shirt, which was hanging open to expose a deep “V” of bronzed chest. “I can think of a number of ways to take your mind off your stomach during the ride.”

“In an open phaeton?”

He flashed a wicked smile. “I’m very creative, remember?”

“Lord Haddan,” she said primly. “We must try to rein in our wild impulses. The road is a public venue and we are not married.”

“Not yet.” He reached for his coat and withdrew a thick sheet of folded paper. “But with this special license, that will soon be remedied.”

Eliza peeked at the names written in a flowing copperplate script. “You were very sure of yourself.”

“Not ‘sure,’ just stubborn. I wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.” His hands stilled and his expression turned more serious. “We shall stay at Leete Abbey for the next few days, so that your friends may attend the wedding ceremony. And then we shall go home.”

Home.
The word suddenly had new meaning.

“I know that the Abbey shall always hold a special place in your heart,” he went on. “But I hope you will now think of Haddan Hall as your real home. A place where you can set down real roots. A place to raise your children. A place to grow old together.” His gaze skimmed to the Redouté painting. “I think you will like it very much. The gardens have an exuberant natural beauty. And I can already think of a perfect place for the painting to hang.”

“It sounds lovely beyond words,” whispered Eliza.

“Then let us gather up our things and set off on the new road.” Gryff held out his hand to help her up. “The hardest place of the journey is behind us,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on the nape of her neck. “And waiting up ahead lies…” He winked. “I think I shall have a petal-soft bed of roses made up for our first night together at the Hall.”

T
he limestone façade of Leete Abbey glowed in the warmth of the buttery light, and as the phaeton rolled up the long drive, it appeared to Gryff as if the place sensed that a lead weight had been lifted from its bones. The fluted columns stood a little straighter, the classical pediments arched a little higher.

Eliza seemed to feel it, too. Craning her neck to see through the foliage, she exclaimed, “Oh, look how happy the house looks.”

“That’s because it knows that it is loved,” he replied. Eying the graceful lines, he added, “‘A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.’”

“How beautiful,” she murmured. “That is from a poem by Keats, is it not?”

“Yes. ‘Endymion.’”

“I admire his work very much.”

Gryff smiled, glad that she liked his favorite poet.

Smoothing her skirts—for despite his teasing threat, they were both properly dressed and passed through the roads in perfect propriety—Eliza let out a little sigh. “I must send a note to Gussie. She will be worried.”

“Actually, I asked your coach to drive by her cottage and bring her here for a celebration supper.” He pursed his lips. “Assuming your brother has left a few decent bottles of champagne in the cellars.”

“Trevor and I stashed a number of the fine wines in a place where Harry couldn’t find them,” she replied. “That was exceedingly thoughtful. Gussie has informed me that if she were forty years younger, I would have a rival for your affections.”

“If she were forty years younger, I might whisk you both off to the exotic East and set up a harem.”

“Ha! That would be asking for trouble…” Eliza suddenly fell silent, her hands fisting in her lap.

Shifting his gaze, he saw a tall figure stroll out from the shadows of the entrance portico. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, wondering what in the devil Cameron was doing here at Leete Abbey. Whatever the reason, he was not about to let his friend upset Eliza.

“Don’t worry, my love.” He slanted a reassuring smile, suddenly aware of how protective he felt of his soon-to-be bride. He now understood his friend Connor’s fierce reaction when Alexa Bingham had been in danger. “I promise you that I won’t let Cam cast a cloud over the day.”

Eliza nodded but kept a wary eye on his friend as the phaeton rolled into the courtyard.

“I was beginning to think the housekeeper was mistaken and you had gone elsewhere,” said Cameron. Gravel crunched underfoot as the horses came to a halt and he approached.

Gryff shot his friend a warning glance.

Ignoring the look, Cameron held out a hand to help Eliza down from the perch. The other, noted Gryff, was angled behind his friend’s back.

“Cam—” he growled, only to be silenced by a flourish of color.

“These are for you, Lady Brentford.” Cameron handed her a bouquet of mixed flowers. “I trust that I got the message right. First and foremost, there is purple hyacinth, which says ‘Sorry, please forgive me.’ I’ve also taken the liberty of adding lavender heather, which means ‘admiration,’ and snapdragons, which indicate ‘gracious strength.’ And lastly, there are sprigs of figwort for future joy, and ivy, which signifies friendship—for I do hope that we will be friends.”

Eliza smiled through the pastel petals. “I should like that very much, Mr. Daggett. What a very thoughtful gesture, though in all honesty, no apology is necessary. You can hardly be blamed for thinking what you did.”

Cameron gave a cryptic shrug. “I, of all people, should know that things are not always what they seem.” Pinching a curling leaf between his thumb and forefinger, he assumed a more playful note. “Perhaps I should have added ox-eye daisies for ‘patience,’ as you will need it to deal with Haddan. He can be very aggravating, you know.” His sardonic grin was directed at Gryff. “But then again, it appears you have no need of advice on how to handle him. From what I can see, another of the Hellhounds has been tamed by love.”

Gryff accepted the needling with good grace. “A very impressive recital, Cam. And just how did you come to be so knowledgeable on the subject of flowers?”

“I saw the book by Mary Wortley Montague on your desk and assumed you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it. What a fascinating little compendium.”

His amusement faded. “You really have to stop pawing through my private papers,” snapped Gryff. “That was meant for Sara.”

“I’ll pass it on with your compliments.” Cameron released the ivy. “And rather than bark at me, you ought to be voicing your gratitude for my less-than-gentlemanly habits. Without them, you might never have rescued Lady Brentford from danger.”

“I shall send you a cartload of hydrangea, which, of course, means ‘thank you,’” intervened Eliza. “Though flowers seems an awfully paltry way of saying it.”

“Your smile, Lady Brentford, is ample enough reward. However, should you be feeling magnanimous, I would dearly love to have one of your paintings.”

“It would be my honor,” she responded.

Cameron sketched a small bow. “Speaking of art, I left several rare illustrated books with your butler. The markings show that they came from the Abbey library, and after a little chat with Brighton, I learned that he and his cousin had stolen them on one of their visits here.”

“Oh, Harry,” Eliza sighed softly.

“Your brother did not know of their perfidy. That was how they worked—they befriended impressionable young men and encouraged excessive drinking and gambling in order to fleece them of their money and valuables. The more the authorities dig into their affairs, the more dung is uncovered.”

“In the future, we will hope that Leete chooses his friends more wisely,” said Gryff.

A low laugh rumbled in Cameron’s throat. “I trust that was not meant to voice any personal regrets on your part.”

“You can be a thorn in the arse at times…” Gryff eyed his friend for a long moment, thinking of all the scrapes and dangers they had survived together, first in the brutal Peninsular War, then in the skirmishes with Polite Society. “But no, no regrets.”

“I’m touched,” drawled Cameron, pressing a hand to his heart. But before he could utter any further sarcasm, the clatter of a coach coming up the drive drew his attention. His dark brows rose ever so slightly. “Is that a cat’s head I see sticking out of the window?”

“It’s Elf,” said Eliza. “Gussie was going to care for him until I got myself settled in the Lake District.”

“Elf,” explained Gryff, “is an Imp of Satan. Though perhaps I should revise my opinion, since without him I might never have
bumped
into my future bride while strolling in the gardens.”

A rosy blush spread to her cheeks and he knew that she was thinking of their limbs tangling in a tree. “On second thought,” he added, “I’m exceedingly fond of the little devil.”

Their gazes met and though she tried to look stern, her mouth quivered at the corners. For an instant, all he could think of was stilling her silent laughter with his lips.

I am besotted
, he admitted.

And the feeling was rather wonderful. All around him, the world seemed in perfect harmony with his own mellow mood.

“Welcome, Miss Haverstick!” Shaking off his own sweet musings, Gryff hurried to help Augustina down from the coach.

“Thank you, young man. But first, would you mind taking Mouse?” She handed him a wicker carrying case. “Elf insisted on being set loose as he recognized familiar territory. But Mouse has not enjoyed traveling.” She straightened the brim of her bonnet. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought the animals. It didn’t seem right to let them miss all the fun.”

“No, indeed,” he agreed.

Seeing Gryff with his hands full, Cameron quickly stepped in to aid the elderly spinster in descending the iron rungs. “Allow me. I am always happy to assist a lovely lady.”

“Much obliged.” Her gaze narrowed to an owlish squint as he looked up. Tilting her head, she studied his features for a long moment before accepting his aid. “That’s a very interesting earring, sir. Why, it reminds me of a bauble owned by the Duchess of Denwick.”

“Does it?” After the barest hint of hesitation, he murmured, “You have an extremely discerning eye, Miss Haverstick.”

She stared for a moment longer before letting out a little chortle. “I like your friends, Haddan.”

“This is Mr. Daggett, Gussie.” Eliza hastily made the introductions, then enfolded her old governess in a fierce hug. “Who has helped Haddan save me from certain ruin. Because of them, Brighton—Brighton and his cousin have been arrested, and Harry—Harry is on his way to India. And…” She paused to catch her breath. “And Haddan—Haddan has asked me to be his wife.”

“The marquess appears to have been a very busy gentleman over the last few days,” quipped Augustina. “By the by, if you didn’t say yes, I will think that your wits have sailed to Bombay along with your feckless brother.”

“I did,” she replied, giving Gryff a look through her lashes that made his insides go soft as custard. “Say yes, that is. But it is a long story.”

“Oh, lovely. I adore long stories, especially when they are told over a bottle of bubbly and a festive supper.” Augustina pointed to another parcel inside the coach. “I’ve brought along plenty of walnut shortbread to add to the celebration.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Gryff. “As you know, my wife-to-be has a very healthy appetite.”

Her color deepened to the match the fire of the setting sun, but after a moment, she, too, joined in the laughter. “That is because my husband-to-be is a very bad influence on me. I fear I shall soon be as stout as a brandy barrel.”

“The key is staying physically active.” He grinned. “I shall do my part to ensure that you are kept on your toes.”

“And a few other positions, I would guess,” murmured Augustina, catching his eye with an earthy wink.

Meow.
Peering down from the top of the coach, Elf added his voice to the general merriment.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” said Gryff. “But if you think I am going to risk ripping my buckskins to climb up there and carry you down, you are sadly mistaken.”

A tail twitched and then the cat dropped lightly to the ground and ambled off.

“Smart beast,” said Gryff.

“I, too, will take my leave,” announced Cameron.

“You won’t stay for supper?” asked Eliza.

“Alas, I have a pressing engagement,” responded his friend.

“Not out of the country, I trust?” asked Gryff. “I was hoping that you would consent to stand up with me at the ceremony.”

Cameron nodded. “It would be my honor. But I hope it will be soon. I do have plans that call for a trip to Scotland.”

Eliza was observing their exchange with a pensive look. “Do you not tire of your constant travels, Mr. Daggett? I would think that after a while, one would want to settle down.”

A strange flicker lit in his eyes, a fragile flame that in the blink of an eye gave way to a harsher light. “To a life as a county squire, with a pretty wife and a noisy nursery?” He made a self-mocking face. “I cannot think of a life less suited to me. I’m a solitary vagabond by nature.”

“People change,” said Eliza.

“Yes,” Cameron looked at Gryff. “My two comrades have shown that is true. But in this case…” He winked. “Three is
not
a charm.”

With that, he crossed the courtyard and headed for the stables, his dark coat and hat blurring into the long shadows of the trees. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Oh, I think I’ve drunk too much champagne.” Eliza blew out her breath and took a seat by the fire, savoring the tingle of the effervescence lingering on her tongue.

It had been a festive supper, with good cheer and much laughter as Gryff regaled them with tales of the three Hellhounds and their wild pranks. His self-deprecating humor kept them amused, but it was his quieter kindness and consideration that she loved—Gryff, for all his self-confessed faults, was a man of stalwart character.

A light kiss brushed the top of her head. “Alone at last?”

“Yes, the staff is in the kitchen, enjoying the cask of excellent ale you provided.” He had moved to the hearth to stir the coals, but his closeness seemed to warm the very air around her. “As for Gussie, she just retired to her quarters, claiming that all the food and wine had made her sleepy. However, I think she just wanted to let us have a moment to ourselves.”

“Tired?”

“Happy,” she responded, catching his hand and pressing it to her cheek. “I almost fear going to bed in case I wake up in the morning to discover this was all a lovely dream.”

“In that case, might I tempt you to come sit outside for a bit?” asked Gryff. “The stars are lovely, and the back lawns look like liquid silver in the moonlight.”

“I can’t think of a more perfect ending to the day.”

“No?” His whisper tickled her ear as he lifted her up from the soft leather. “Clearly I have a more vivid imagination than you.”

The glass doors of the music room opened onto the flagged terrace. The dark stone swirled with shadows cast by the glimmering torchieres set along the railing. A breeze stirred the foliage, the low, leafy rustle a muted counterpoint to the lone hoot of an owl and the cheerful serenade of crickets. A peaceful, pastoral symphony.

“Shall we sit here?” Gryff led her to a bench tucked between a pair of towering classical urns. Jasmine and roses perfumed the air, their scent nearly as intoxicating as the heady wine.

“This has always been one of my favorite spots,” she confided, tipping her head up to look at the pinpoints of fire scattered across the black velvet sky. “I would come out here often and sit for hours, just dreaming.”

“About what?” he asked, tucking her into the crook of his arm.

“About you.”

“You didn’t know I existed,” he said dryly.

“Oh, yes I did.” She waved a hand at the stars. “Amid all those countless winks of light, I knew there was one that shone brightest. I just wasn’t sure how I would ever find you.”

“Then it’s a good thing I dropped into your lap.”

Eliza laughed against the soft wool of his coat. “If you recall, it was in fact the other way around.”