Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(89)

“It’s not for Mary Darling,” Silence whispered. She held up the scrap of paper that had lain under the pearls. Two words were written upon it.

Silence Hollingbrook.

WHEN HERO WOKE, she knew even before she opened her eyes that Griffin was no longer with her. She lay, unmoving, eyes shut, as if to put off the inevitable realization that he was gone. The bed was cold. He’d been gone a long time.

She curled her fingers into fists and was startled to feel something in her right hand. She opened her eyes to see and brought her hand closer to her face. It was late morning, the light shining from her window bright and strong.

The thing in her hand was her diamond earring. Hero traced the bobble with one fingertip. The diamond earring Griffin had picked up after she’d thrown it at him so long ago now. She looked at it, and tears filled her eyes as she understood the message.

He wasn’t coming back.

IT WAS LATE morning by the time Griffin climbed the steps to his town house. His legs felt leaden, his chest heavy and clogged.

“Where have you been?”

He raised his head at the familiar voice. Mater stood on his step, wrapped in a velvet cape.

He stopped and said stupidly, “What are doing here? Has something happened?”

“Has something happened?” she repeated incredulously. “Yes, something happened—you beat Thomas, say you’ve seduced his fiancée, and then you both virtually disappear! I want to know what is going on and how you’ll resolve this horrible difference between you two. It’s worse now than before you came back to London. What has happened to our family?”

He stared at her, this strong little woman, and saw her shoulders sag. She’d withstood Pater’s death, withstood debt and scandal, and now she was near defeat because of him. His mouth tasted of ashes.

Add his mother’s disillusionment to his sins.

He glanced around and realized they were in a public place. One of his neighbors was peering at them avidly from behind her curtains.

Griffin took Mater’s arm. “Come inside, dearest.”

She looked up at him uncertainly, and in the morning sunshine, the lines about her eyes were clear. “Griffin?”

“Come inside,” he repeated.

He led her into his library and realized his mistake immediately when he glanced to the spot beside the settee where he’d made love to Hero. He swore under his breath, but where else was he to put her? Half the rooms were in sheets because he didn’t bother using them.

“What is it?” she asked, touching his arm worriedly.

“It’s nothing,” he said, and strode to the door to bellow for a servant. A full minute elapsed before a blowsy maid scurried into view. “Bring some hot tea and cakes.”

She curtsied. “ ’Aven’t any cakes, m’lord.”

Griffin grimaced. “Bread, then, or whatever else Cook can find.”

He closed the door and turned back to the room, running his hands over his head. He wasn’t wearing a wig, hadn’t shaved in days, and his house and staff were wretched. Well, the last hardly mattered anymore. Once he’d dealt with the Vicar, he’d let the lease lapse and remove himself and Deedle to the north. Deedle hated it there, but Griffin would be damned if he’d stay in the same city as Thomas and Hero.

“Griffin?” Mater said softly.

Damn it. Mater had never cared to rusticate. He’d be leaving her behind as well. Unless she decided to take up residence in a city nearer the Mandeville estate. But that still wasn’t London.

Nothing was the same as London.

“Griffin!” His mother crossed the room and took his hands. “You must tell me what you’re thinking.”

He smiled wearily. “It’s not so very dramatic as all that, Mater. I’m making plans to leave London.”

“But why?”

He closed his eyes. “I can’t live here with Thomas and her.”

“Lady Hero, you mean.” She half laughed, and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him in exasperation. “Are we not to speak her name now?”

“That would be rather hard for Thomas,” he said wryly.

She blinked. “He’s not…”

He nodded. “They will be married Sunday.”

He dropped her hands and crossed to pour himself a healthy glassful of brandy.

“But I thought…”

“That I’d marry her?” he asked, his back still turned to her. “Apparently not.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter? Anyway, Thomas will have his revenge for my seduction of Anne.”

“Don’t be silly.” She made a dismissive sound. “I never believed you’d seduced Anne.”

He turned, vaguely surprised—and rather grateful. “No? Everyone else did.”

“I’m your mother, Griffin.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him with exasperation. “Do give me some credit.”

“Oh, Mater, I love you so.” He smiled wryly and drank some brandy, wincing slightly as it burned his gullet.

“No one believes that old gossip anymore.”

“Thomas does.”

She stared. “What?”

He nodded and drank some more brandy. The second sip was smoother. Perhaps he’d become a sot.