Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(107)

“Justine,” Griffin started in a warning voice.

“This is all very interesting, but I think it can be settled later,” Dominic broke in, rising to his feet. He touched Justine’s elbow, urging her to stand and start toward the door. “Dress warmly, my dear. You have a long day of travel ahead of you.”

She stopped halfway across the room and frowned at him. “I haven’t even thought to ask where we’re going or for how long.”

“I hope you won’t be away from town for more than a few weeks,” her godparent replied. “As to where you’re going—”

He exchanged a grim look with Griffin, who picked up where Dominic left off. “Let’s hope it’s where no one can find us.”





CHAPTER Seventeen




After checking on Rose and the baby, Justine made her way to the main floor where she had earlier glimpsed a library off the entrance hall. Dominic’s manor house, unobtrusively tucked away in a corner of Sussex and set well back off a country lane, settled around her with a quiet hush, finally peaceful after the bustle of their late-afternoon arrival.

Despite her fatigue and the strains of the day, she knew sleep would elude her. There was too much to think on—the baby, the potential danger to them all, and, of course, her new husband and how she truly felt about him.

So far, Griffin had shown a great deal of consideration for the awkwardness of the situation. On their arrival, he’d taken charge of the arrangements, placing Justine in a comfortable bedroom on the same floor as a nursery that was surprisingly well-prepared to handle a baby and his wet nurse. Apparently, Dominic had sent word late last night, alerting the staff to prepare for their domestic invasion. After seeing women and baby safely disposed, Griffin had informed them that dinner would be sent up on trays and then had promptly disappeared.

Though Justine sensed his absence was his way of giving her time to adjust to the new arrangements, she nonetheless felt like he was avoiding her. She’d wondered most of the way to Sussex if he would insist on sleeping in her room, bolstering the fiction of their marriage. But he’d shown no desire to do so. There was no reason, after all, since the servants were in Dominic’s personal employ and therefore entirely to be trusted. Still, her husband seemed not the least inclined to spend time with her or continue with his campaign of seduction. Justine stoutly told herself she didn’t want that in any event, and that she was just fine on her own. Rose and the baby gave her more company than she needed, and would keep her busy. Dancing attendance on Griffin—whether he wanted her to or not—was certainly not part of Justine’s plan.

Of course, he might simply be sick of both female and infant companionship, which was understandable after their journey. Even she could admit it had been a gruesome exercise.

They’d started out well enough. She and Griffin had taken the town coach to Aden and Vivien’s house shortly after breakfast, as if they were calling for a morning visit. They’d slipped out through the back garden, cutting through the mews to meet up with Phelps, Rose, and the baby, who had escaped detection by sneaking out through the back of The Golden Tie and making their way by hackney to meet up with them. They had then all crammed into a nondescript traveling carriage—with shades drawn, of course—and departed London, hoping to escape notice in the throngs of people and vehicles lumbering out of the city every day.

Justine’s father would have thoroughly enjoyed the melodrama, but all it accomplished for her was to make her bad-tempered. Rose obviously shared that feeling, since she’d grumbled various imprecations about villainous thugs and the inconvenience of early morning travel. Stephen also didn’t take well to the journey, fussing and crying much of the way into Sussex. Fortunately, Rose managed to curtail the worst of it by hauling down her bodice and plunking him onto her breast at regular intervals.