Wicked in Your Arms (Forgotten Princesses #1)(53)

Jack sobered instantly, all laughter fleeing his voice as he said, “Actually you do, you little bastard. If you think you’ll get one coin of mine, you’re mistaken.”

Trevis blinked in such an astonished way that Grier instantly understood. It all made perfect sense. Somehow, someway, he’d learned of her sudden turn of fortune. He was here for one reason and one reason only.

Grier was an heiress now and worth his time. That’s what brought him sniffing about now.

“So. How’d you find out?”

Trevis stared at her for a long moment, not understanding. Or feigning to not understand.

She asked again, her voice a snapping bite on the air. “Come now, the truth. How’d you find out?”

He pulled back his shoulder and stared at her coolly, the lovesick swain gone. “The Reverend and Mrs. Hollings returned from their trip to Town. It seems they saw you at the opera.”

Grier smiled mirthlessly, nodding as she recalled bumping into the couple. Especially memorable had been their sagging mouths when they’d seen her in her fine silks. “Ah, the lovely Hollingses. Carried tales of me, did they? Let everyone know the bastard of Carynwedd found herself a fortune. I should have guessed.” It was actually difficult to say who gossiped more—the reverend or his wife.

“She’s too smart for the likes of you, lad. Best return home,” Jack advised. “You’ll not snare yourself an heiress here.”

Trevis flushed. “Grier,” he began. “What about everything we’ve shared?”

“You know . . . it’s all a bit foggy.”

“That’s not true,” he denied, his chest swelling. Clearly he did not believe any woman could forget him.

Grier glared at Trevis. “You’re unbelievable. Did you truly think I would toss my arms around you with gratitude?”

He shrugged. “You wanted me then—”

“That was then, Trevis. This is now.” Grier moved toward the parlor door. Pulling it open, she turned to face the boy she’d spent the better part of her life pining after—and felt nothing. “Good-bye, Trevis. Sorry you made the journey for nothing.”

Trevis’s face grew splotchy. “This is your last chance. I shan’t ask again, Grier.”

She cocked her head and smiled sweetly at him. “I truly hope not.”

With his face burning brighter, he stormed past her and out the small parlor.

Once he was gone, her shoulders slumped and the smile slipped from her face. Suddenly she felt very wearied.

“You all right?” Jack asked gruffly.

She stared at him, surprised that he should even care to ask, that he still stood here and had not rushed back to finish his stew.

Grier nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just need a few moments.”

Jack tugged on his cuffs as if suddenly uncomfortable. “I expect you can do a lot better than him, Grier. Fortune or no fortune.”

Grier looked at him sharply, quite certain he had not meant to compliment her. “Thank you.”

“Forget about him. You’ll find yourself a better man.”

“I know, I know.” She sighed, the weariness back. “Someone titled.”

“Well, yes. But perhaps someone who can appreciate you, too . . . and not be so bloody obvious about the fact that he’s after your dowry. You’ve a lot to recommend you besides my fortune.”

Grier blinked, unsure what to make of the fact that Jack Hadley was actually being kind to her . . . as a true father would be.

“Yes,” she agreed, a smile twitching her lips. “He could at least possess intelligence enough to disguise the fact that he only wants your money.”

With another nod and tug on his waistcoat, Jack cleared his throat. “I’m going to return to my dinner.”

“Enjoy,” she murmured. As Jack passed through the door, she added. “And . . . thank you.”

He looked over his shoulder, the uncomfortable expression once again on his face. “For what?”

“Acting like a father.”

A flicker of emotion cracked his gruff exterior. “Th-that’s what I am. Like it or not, I’m your father.”

She smiled at him, surprised at how easy it was to do. “I like it.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with what amounted to her praise. “Don’t tarry. You need to eat.”

She nodded. “I’ll be along soon.”

With a nod of his own, he turned from the room.

She watched him walk from sight before moving back into the parlor and dropping onto an overstuffed chair, convinced she could fall asleep and spend the night right there.

“Grier.”

Opening her eyes, her heart skipped to life to see Sev crossing the threshold. She shot upright. “Sev.”

He stopped before her chair. Squatting down before her, he took her chilled hand into his own. “Are you all right?”

She gave a wavery smile, her heart softening at the concern in his voice. “Fine.” She looked down at his large hand clasped in her own. “Fine now any rate.” She released a pent-up breath. Just how true that was frightened her. In a mere moment his presence could put all her troubles to rest.

“Who was that man?”

She waved a hand dismissively, hoping he would not force the topic of Trevis. “No one.”