Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(78)

“Hardly surprising,” Griffin said. “He could buy ten new roofs for his blasted church with the blunt I signed over to him.”

“Ah, yes, but look at the prize you gained as a result,” Dominic replied.

“Christ, you’re getting sentimental in your old age,” Griffin retorted. “Are you sure you’re not going senile?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Dominic said, ignoring Aden’s snort of laughter. “I’m simply overcome with pride that both of you have married so well. It’s done a world of good for Aden, and I anticipate the same for you.”

Griffin took in the gleam in Dominic’s eyes. He’d seen that expression before and he’d heard the same tone in his voice, too. It meant that Dominic was trying to force him to do something he didn’t want to do.

“What, exactly, do you mean by that?” Griffin asked in a deceptively soft voice.

When Dominic and Aden exchanged a swift glance, he almost cursed out loud. His instincts rarely failed him, and right now they were pealing a bloody tower full of bells.

But before he could nip whatever it was Dominic was planning in the bud, Lady Thornbury floated over with her usual elegance and grace.

“Goodness,” she said, taking her son by the arm, “whatever are you men doing over here, hiding in the corner? We’re beginning to feel quite neglected.” She leveled a frown at Dominic. “I do hope you’re not discussing business, my dear. How utterly inappropriate for the occasion.”

Dominic laughed. “Nothing of the sort. In fact, I’ve ordered more champagne—ah, here it is now. We should be going in to lunch in a few minutes. But you are quite right. Our neglect of the ladies is shocking.”

He took Lady Thornbury’s hand from Aden’s arm and led her back across the room—after giving both Aden and Griffin a pointed look.

“You do realize he’s managing you,” Aden said.

“He’s trying,” Griffin replied, affecting a casual shrug. “He won’t get anywhere with it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Aden said. “He did the same to me. Quite successfully, I might add.”

Before Griffin could come up with an appropriate retort, his cousin had also moved toward the group on the other side of the room. Griffin had no choice but to follow.

For some reason, his feet seemed to drag. As much as he enjoyed looking at Justine—and thinking about their impending wedding night—he felt a curious reluctance to join her and the others. He knew how rattled she was, and how she must be struggling to wear a good face in the light of the unwelcome and monumental changes in her life. Griffin could think of only one way to comfort her, and it didn’t involve much talking. He had the sense that if he got too close to her, she’d be able to see it in his eyes and feel it in his touch. And that would do little to reassure her, especially in this setting.

Sure enough, as he approached, he could read the tension in the strained look in her eyes and in the tightness in the line of her delicate jaw.

“There you are,” Vivien said gaily as he and Aden joined them. “Griffin, I have yet to congratulate you as a married man. Please allow me to make up for such a shocking omission.”

A vivacious blond beauty with a mind as sharp as anyone Griffin had ever met, Vivien came up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. Then she surprised him by giving him a brief hug.

“Welcome to the family, dear Griffin,” she whispered in his ear.

He was too startled to respond verbally so he simply gave her a flourishing, mocking bow as she stepped back. Griffin had his own family—the people who worked for him. He’d carefully gathered them over the years, trusting them as he trusted no one else. With the exception of Aden—and even with him there was still a reserve between them—Griffin had no desire to expand the circle, especially if that meant having any regular contact with the ton.