Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(115)

“That’s certainly a lamentable turn of events,” Griffin commented. “I suppose I should hunt her down and see if she needs anything from the village.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Justine said, coming through the door with a smile on her pretty face. She wore a dark green riding habit that served as a perfect contrast to her burnished red hair, and she was pulling on a pair of serviceable gloves. A neat little hat sat on her gleaming curls, a welcome change from the awful caps she sometimes still insisted on wearing.


Griffin ran an appreciative eye over her curvaceous figure. “Good morning, my wife. I understand you were up and about at a ridiculously early hour. That is both an unnecessary and regrettable habit in a woman of your station.”

“Only to a man who runs brothels and gaming houses,” she retorted. “And, besides, we’re in the country. There’s no earthly reason to be sleeping in till all hours of the morning.”

Griffin could think of one very good reason, but he didn’t want to shock her. At least not with Phelps still lurking in the corners.

“You are dressed for riding,” he said. “I hope you’re not intending to leave the grounds.”

She shook her head. “No, but I understand from Uncle Dominic’s man, Parker, that there are a few good hackers in the stable. It’s been so long since I’ve been riding,” she said in a wistful voice. “I thought that I might go out for an hour or so while the baby is sleeping.”

Griffin strolled over to her, enjoying the clean, gentle scents of lemon and talc that seemed so much a part of her. “And how is your little charge? I understand he might have a cold.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Just the sniffles, I think, but I want to nip them in the bud. Cook put together a splendid little poultice for his chest. Rose thinks he’ll be fine, but she’ll stay with him until I get back.”

Griffin stroked her satiny cheek, enjoying the faint blush that tinted her skin. “My sweet, you’re not to wear yourself out looking after the baby. There are plenty of people here to help with that.”

“I know, but I like spending time with Stephen.” She gave him a wistful, almost sad smile. “My heart just aches for the poor, motherless thing. Who knows if he’ll ever see his parents, or feel his mother’s touch?”

Something cold rustled in Griffin’s belly. “That’s not the worst thing that could happen to him,” he said in a clipped voice. “And he’s got you and Rose to look after him, at least for now. There’s no need to worry on his account.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he could tell she was thinking about their conversation last night.

“Well, enjoy your ride,” he said, stepping back from her. “Just make sure you don’t stray off the estate. And take a groom with you.”

“The groom’s gone into town for supplies,” Phelps said. He’d stepped out of the room for a minute before returning with a stack of letters in his hand. “Won’t be back until after lunch.”

“Drat,” Justine muttered under her breath. Then she eyed Griffin. “Perhaps you could escort me. I’m sure you must be tired of being cooped up in the house.”

Griffin hesitated, but then shrugged. “I don’t ride.”

She looked blank for a second. “What do you mean? You have some of the best horses in London.”

That was true. Griffin’s were the best and he had the bills to prove it. “They’re for my carriages, not for riding.”

She frowned. “But why don’t you ride?”