Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(9)

Griff gave a shrug. “I could do with a change of scenery. And I have a hankering to see what it is that draws you home with such haste. Especially when it has been occupying your attention for quite some time of late.”

“Dorset will bore you to tears.”

Griff leaned against the doorframe with practiced insouciance. With black hair and a profile ruined—or perhaps not in the eyes of many women—by a broken nose from his early years, Griff’s every move was practiced, carefully honed to ensure he had full impact. Why the devil the man felt the need to use it on him, Harcourt did not know. He’d known Griff almost as long as he’d known Merry’s brother, and he was no simpering virgin just begging to be seduced by the infamous Lord Michael Griffin.

“I have nothing to do so why not take the country air?”

“Griff.” Harcourt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have enough to do on the estate without worrying about entertaining you.”

Griff’s smile widened, a flash of white in the darkened corridor of the house. “I can entertain myself, I am sure. A bonny country lass would make a pleasant change.”

Curling a hand at his side, Harcourt forced himself to take a breath. Griff would not go near Merry if he told his friend of how he felt, but he’d be damned if he was willing to admit as much yet. The man would revel in it and most certainly get in the way. If he was to win Merry, he’d have to do it alone.

And after that kiss, he had no doubt she felt the same. Whether the stubborn Merry would be willing to admit as much, he did not know. But he’d felt it down to his soul and seen it in her eyes.

Perhaps now was not the best time, and he’d intended to give her more space to grieve—really he had—but staying away from her was eating away inside of him. He felt empty and hollow.

Footsteps and a few muttered curse words echoed around upstairs. With any luck, Harlow would have him packed and ready to leave within the hour. He could reach Dorset by dawn and see how Merry was after breakfast.

He glanced at Griff who remained against the doorframe with clearly little intention to move. Harcourt sighed.

“Fine, but if you cause any scandal, I shall disavow all knowledge of our friendship.”

Griff straightened. “Excellent. You need someone to keep you on the right path. Something odd is going on with you, Easton. I just know it.”

“If the right path means following in your footsteps, I am not at all sure I want to remain on it.”

Griff shook his head sadly. “See? This is what I mean? Once upon a time, you’d have been next to me on that path. Hell, sometimes you were ahead of me. Whatever has caused this change has something to do with that little village of yours and I intend to find out what it is.”

“Nothing has caused this change, Griff. It’s simply called growing up. You might like to try it some time.”

“Pfft. Never. I shall remain the same always.”

Harcourt chuckled. “We shall see.”





Chapter Four





Merry tilted her head and eyed the spines of the books in front of her. An array of red, green, and blue leather, each lettered with gold spanned the entire wall in front of her. She sighed and turned to Mr. Jameson. “No new titles then?”

The shopkeeper shook his head. “You know I would tell you if there were, Lady Merry. Every time I visit London, I inquire for you.”

“I know.” She tried not to sigh again but she had been hoping that there was at least one book on Greek myths she had not read yet. Almost monthly, she visited the book shop in the center of the village in the hopes there might be something.

“You should read slower, my lady,” Mr. Jameson teased, his eyes creasing in the corners. “Or find another topic you feel so passionately about.”

“I know,” she repeated.

Her obsession with all things Greek had started as a child when she had run away from her governess and picked up a book on Greek myths. The adventure, the romance, the magic...it had all swept her away. It was not that she never read anything else, but nothing quite took her away from the world like those myths did.

“I shall be in London again soon, so I shall make some further inquiries,” he informed her. “We shall find you something new to read, don’t you worry.”

She smiled at the old man who had been selling her books since she was a little girl. “Thank you, Mr. Jameson. You are too good to me.”

“I cannot have my favorite customer disappointed now, can I, my lady?”

Before she could reply, the bell above the door rang and Arabella, Sophia, and Bella barreled into the shop.

“Not more books!” Bella rolled her eyes. “You have enough.” She reached for her hand. “Good day, Mr. Jameson,” she trilled before dragging her out of the shop. “Books are not what you need right now.”

Merry tugged her hand from Bella’s and folded her arms. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, you do not need to be tucking yourself away and reading. You need to be spending time with friends—”

“Is that not precisely what I am doing now?” Merry motioned to her three friends who had gathered in a circle around her.

“What Sophia is trying to say”—Arabella cut in—“is that we want to make sure you are well, and that perhaps some fresh air might do you some good.”