Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(143)

“We’ll find out soon enough, my sweet,” he said in a soothing voice. He gently pried her fists away from her stomach. “Come sit down. I’ll pour you a glass of sherry while you wait.”

“Now you’re trying to manage me,” she said with a little scowl. Still, she let him lead her over to one of the chaises.

“I would never be foolish enough to even try,” he said as he poured her a small glass from the drinks trolley. “Such an effort would surely be doomed to failure.”

That won him a grudging laugh. Griffin sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders and gently pulling her against him. She resisted for a moment then came to him with a sigh, all soft curves and the comforting scents of talc and lemon that would forever remind him of her.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a pest.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “I know the last few days haven’t been very pleasant for you, either.”

“There’s no need to worry about me, Justine. I’m fine.”

Except for the fact that he’d been forced to give up on his plans to get and keep Justine in his bed. Once Dominic’s order to return to London had arrived, Justine’s enthusiasm for Griffin’s lovemaking had vanished. She’d then spent every minute before their return to the city with the baby, watching over him like a lioness with one cub. One thing had become crystal clear to Griffin—they had to resolve Stephen’s situation or his wife would turn into a wreck and he would go mad from sexual frustration.

The sound of the knocker on the front door jolted her. When she tried to jump up, he grasped her by the arms to hold her still.

“Justine, you must try to be calm. Let Dominic take the lead and do your best to listen to what he has to say.”

She starched up. “I will not be intimidated into silence, nor will I keep quiet my concerns for Stephen’s welfare.”

He rubbed her shoulders. “All I’m suggesting is that we might learn more about the man’s intentions by observing and listening rather than picking a fight. If you let your emotions get the best of you, you’ll make yourself vulnerable. Does that make sense?”

She clearly wanted to disagree, but grumbled her acquiescence. “That’s exactly what Papa would have said, ironically enough.”

“Then I’m in good company. I want you to watch Count Marzano very carefully. Let me be the source of any irritation he might feel. As you know, I’m very good at that.”

“Oh, very well,” she said with a sigh.

“Good girl.” He kissed the tip of her nose and then stood as Phelps ushered their visitors into the room. “Ah, Dominic,” he said. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival most eagerly. Your cryptic message has left us in a frenzy of curiosity.”

“I’m sure it has,” Dominic returned sardonically. He switched his attention to Justine. “No, don’t get up, my dear,” he said with a smile. “You’re looking very well. I trust your new husband has not been too great a bother?”

Justine managed a tight smile. “He’s been all that is kind and generous.”

Dominic’s left eyebrow quirked up. “I’m happy to hear it. And now I’d like to properly introduce you to Count Marzano, councillor to Marco, Duke of San Agosto, a duchy in the northern Italian states. I believe you might already know each other.”

Griffin studied the man who was giving Justine a graceful, flourishing bow. Not surprisingly, he was the same gentleman who’d been involved in the altercation at The Golden Tie that led to Justine’s discovery, clearly using the opportunity for his own devious agenda.