by Diana Quincy
“Akeed,” she agreed. “Imagine all of that room for one family.”
“If it were for an Arab family, we’d fill it up.”
She smirked. “That is true.” With all of their aunts, great-aunts, uncles, great-uncles, first and second cousins who regularly attended family gatherings, they might occupy every room.
The carriage pulled up to the manor. The footman who came for their baggage escorted Rafi to his bedchamber, while Hanna was taken directly to see her patient.
Young William was reclined on a chaise when Hanna entered what she thought must be the music room. An enormous piano had a place of pride in one corner, while a gilded harpsichord stood nearby.
“Miss Zaydan.” Mrs. Rutland came toward her dressed in silk and smelling of expensive perfumes. “Thank you for coming. It hasn’t been easy to make William sit still for a day.”
“Hello, William.” Hanna approached the boy. “What have you done to yourself?”
“Perhaps I should see about keeping you on a retainer,” Mrs. Rutland remarked. “William is always flinging his body here and there. It’s almost as if he doesn’t realize his bones can break.”
“It’s nothing,” William protested, squirming on the chaise. “It’s just a little sore.”
“Let me have a look.” Hanna examined the boy’s arm. She saw immediately that William’s assessment was correct. Mrs. Rutland had most definitely overreacted.
“There’s a slight strain and bit of bruising,” she told mother and son after evaluating his forearm. “There is really no need of my services.” She and Rafi could easily return to London this afternoon.
“Are you certain?” Mrs. Rutland asked.
“Yes, quite.” Hanna hadn’t taken Mrs. Rutland to be an overly protective mother. But clearly she’d been wrong.
“How’s that arm doing?” a familiar masculine voice called out.
Hanna turned to see Griff enter the room. He stopped short when he spotted her. He was casually attired in a white, open-necked shirt that bared the strong lines of his throat.
“Hanna?” Delight filled his face. He set his hands on his narrow hips, drawing her attention to how well he looked in the formfitting breeches. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked her to come,” Mrs. Rutland said. “To treat William’s arm.”
“Whatever for?” Griff asked. “He barely hurt himself.”
“One can never be too careful.” Mrs. Rutland smoothed her skirts. “But now that Miss Zaydan is here, she might as well stay for a couple of nights as she and I originally planned.”
“I see.” An amused expression came over Griff’s face. “After all of these years, my sister is still a busybody.”
And not the overprotective mother Hanna had first surmised.
“What’s a busybody?” William asked.
“Never mind that,” his mother said. “You may go and play. Miss Zaydan says you are fine.”
William scampered away before his mother could change her mind.
“Well,” Mrs. Rutland said cheerily, glancing from Griff to Hanna and then back again, “I have things to do. I shall see you both at supper.”
She followed her son out the door, leaving Griff and Hanna staring at each other.
“You have to forgive my sister,” Griff said. “She never could mind her own business.”
“I had no idea this was Ashby Manor,” Hanna said. “I thought this was your sister’s country estate.”
“Which is obviously what she wanted you to think.”
“Why did she ask me here? Does she suspect there is something between us?”
“She senses, I suppose. Dorcas doesn’t know for certain. I haven’t told her anything.” He took her in with appreciative eyes. “However it happened, I am happy you are here.”
“How are you? Has returning here been as difficult as you feared?”
“Having Dorcas here helps. She insisted on accompanying me. But she doesn’t know why we’re here. I don’t want to upset her unnecessarily.”
“She seems to care a great deal about you.”
“Somehow she realized that having you here is important to me. You are the only person I can confide in, completely, regarding the tragedy.”
“It’s a burden you shouldn’t have to carry alone.”
“I don’t want to upset my sisters, especially if our search turns out to be fruitless.”
“Have you found your father’s journal?”
“We only arrived yesterday,” he said. “I haven’t summoned the courage to search for it yet.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but I can help you look. If you’d like.”
“I would. Your company is always appreciated. How about if you settle in, and then we’ll begin our search first thing in the morning.”
“I shall be ready.”
“Now that you are here, this experience isn’t nearly as difficult. The moment I saw you, I thought about all of the places at Ashby that I want to show you.”
“I’d love to see them.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“You should thank your sister.”
He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “Perhaps we both should.”
“I never thought I’d spend the night in a house enormous enough to get lost in,” Rafi remarked to Hanna. They met in the corridor outside their guest chambers to attempt to navigate their way to the dining room.
“Cleaning this house must be a nightmare.” Hanna switched to Arabic so she could speak frankly without worrying about eavesdroppers. “Are you certain we’re going the right way?”
“No.” Rafi shifted to Arabic as well. “But at least we left our chambers early enough to give us time to get lost and still get to supper on time. How’s the boy?”
“William’s arm is fine.” They started down a staircase with mammoth mahogany balusters topped by a wide, carved handrail. “His mother, Mrs. Rutland, is a bit overprotective.”
He studied Hanna’s face. “Why are we really here? The viscount just wanted an excuse to get you out here, didn’t he? And I don’t have to wonder for what.”
“He didn’t even know his sister asked us to come. Besides, you’re here. You’re my chaperone.”
“And I will be keeping an eye on Griffin. Aina baitha,” he responded, the Arabic saying suggesting that Griff’s eyes were so wide with interest when he gazed at Hanna that all one saw were the whites of his eyes.
“Stop it.” She bumped her shoulder against her brother’s. “Griff has other things to worry about. His parents were murdered here, and it’s his first time back in over a dozen years.”
“Splendid. Now we have to worry about ghosts, too.” They paused before an ornate wooden door. “This might be the dining room.”
“What if they have more than one?”
“Then, we’ll have to ask for directions from one of the dozens of servants that seem to pop up out of nowhere. Did you see how they come out of the walls?”
She nodded. “I never realized that these grand houses have so many hidden doors. It’s like the walls have ears.”
“Here we go.” Rafi switched back to English as he pushed the door open to find Griff and Mrs. Rutland standing by a shiny, oval walnut dining table that could easily seat twenty. An enormous painting of men on horses during a fox hunt dominated the room.
“There you both are,” said Mrs. Rutland. “Just on time.”
They took their seats, and the two footmen attending them began to serve the courses. Griff engaged Rafi in conversation, asking interested questions about the family business of cotton exports.
Hanna was hungry, so she concentrated on her food, finishing her soup and then her meat and vegetable dish. She noticed that Mrs. Rutland barely touched either course, having only a few spoonfuls of soup and two or three bites of the roast. When the third course appeared, Hanna began to understand why Griff’s sister ate so sparingly. Hanna wondered how she was going to make it to the end of the meal without stuffing herself silly.<
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“That’s a remarkable painting,” Rafi said referring to the immense painting that was the room’s focal point. “The horses are magnificent.”
“We have a decent stable,” Griff remarked. “You’re welcome to take a mount out for a hack. Just ask the stablemaster. He’ll set you up. What kind of mount do you prefer?”
Rafi exchanged a glance with his sister before responding. “I don’t ride.” Horses were a luxury laboring-class people in the city could ill afford.
“Oh?” Surprise lit Griff’s face. “Why not?”
Hanna intervened. “Stabling a mount and otherwise paying for its upkeep is too great an expense.” She saw no reason not to be truthful. She’d never pretended to be anything other than who she was with Griff.
“I can imagine,” Mrs. Rutland said, although the expression on her face suggested such a thing had never occurred to her.
“I wish I could ride,” Rafi said. “But the business keeps me busy.”
“Why don’t you give it a try while you are here?” Griff asked.
“Me? Ride?” Rafi asked.
“Why not?” Griff said. “I’ll take you out to the stables first thing in the morning if you’d care to give it a try.”
Rafi shrugged. “Why not?” he said indifferently.
But Hanna saw the gleam in her brother’s eyes.
Late the next morning, Griff watched Hanna’s brother trot in a circle on a thoroughbred.
“He’s handling himself well,” Griff said to his stablemaster. “I see you found him a suitable mount.”
“We keep a small stable, my lord. But we managed.” Ben, a man in his late thirties, was among the newer hires at Ashby, having joined Griff’s staff at some point in the fourteen years that Griff was away.
“How long has he been out there?”
“Nearly three hours. He was at the stables at eight this morning. He caught on quickly, my lord.”
Griff propped his arms on the paddock-fence rail. “One would never guess the man had never been atop a mount before.”
“Aye. He can’t seem to get enough.”
Rafi sat the mount well with strong, still legs, and excellent shoulder and hip alignment. Had the man been born to privilege and put in the saddle as a stripling as Griff had been, he’d probably be among the finer riders of Griff’s acquaintance.
A groom held on to the mount’s bridle while Rafi awkwardly alighted, half sliding, half falling off the horse.
Ben chuckled. “We’ll have to work on the dismount.”
“Indeed.” Griff said. Rafi came over, and Ben excused himself to get back to his duties.
“You’re a natural,” Griff said.
“I do enjoy riding,” Rafi said. “I’ll have to investigate renting a mount now and again to enjoy a good hack through the park.”
“We keep mounts at Haven House. You are welcome to take one out for a ride in Hyde Park whenever you wish.”
Rafi was silent for a moment. The contemplative look that came over the man’s flushed face prompted Griff to worry if he’d overstepped.
“It’s an offer I would make to any friend,” he added, lest the man think Griff was offering charity. They might not be well-to-do, but Hanna’s family wasn’t impoverished.
“Is that what we are?” Rafi studied Griff’s face in a way that made him uncomfortable.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Is that what you consider my sister? A friend?”
Rafi’s expression wasn’t particularly friendly. He appeared close to calling Griff out. Did the middle class engage in duels? Or would it be fisticuffs?
“I hold your sister in the highest regard.” Griff chose his words carefully. “I respect her considerable skills. She cured me. I shall never be able to properly repay her.”
“My sister is a good girl.”
“I agree. She is one of the finest women I have had the honor of knowing.”
Rafi’s dark gaze drilled into Griff. “You understand what would happen to her if she is touched by scandal?”
“I don’t know what you are implying but—”
“She faces banishment from the family,” Rafi interrupted. “She would not be allowed to continue bonesetting. Our aunts and uncles would shun her. Our cousins would never be allowed to talk to her again.”
Griff blinked. “I see.”
“Do you? Do you truly comprehend my meaning? For Arabs, family is everything. Friends are nothing. Your family are your friends. If Hanna loses her family, she loses a vital part of herself. Do you want to be responsible for that?”
“Of course not. I want only the best for her.”
“You are from two different worlds. Soon you will be wed to a beautiful aristocratic widow. Hanna will remain in her world, if our people still accept her. Don’t take that community away from her.”
“I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“Good. Then when we return to London, leave her alone. There is already talk in our community about you.”
“There is? What kind of talk?”
“Talk that could destroy her reputation. If you truly care about my sister, you will leave her alone.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There you are,” Hanna greeted Griff in the front hallway. “Were you out with Rafi?”
“Yes.” Griff seemed distracted. “In the stable yard.”
Her eyes twinkled. “How many times did he fall off the horse?”
“Actually, your brother has the makings of a skilled rider.”
“Really? He always wanted to learn to ride, but Papa said we couldn’t afford it.”
“He seems to be making up for lost time.”
“Are you ready to search for your father’s journal?” she asked.
“Oh.” He paused. “I don’t want to trouble you.”
Why was he avoiding looking her in the eye? “I told you yesterday that it’s no trouble at all. I want to help.”
Griff shifted his weight from one boot to the other. He was incredibly dashing in his country clothes. His strong thighs encased in those buff breeches tucked into deep brown boots. “Perhaps not today.”
“What is wrong?”
“You do know that I would never purposefully do anything to hurt you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Did Rafi say something to upset you?”
He dropped his gaze. “No, of course not. Being back at Ashby is not easy. I’m still adjusting.”
“What can I do to help?”
He stepped back. “Nothing. That is very kind of you. But I must become accustomed to being here on my own. If you will excuse me.”
Leaving Hanna confused and alone in the front hall, Griff strode past her and trotted up the massive staircase. Rafi entered the house, crossing the front hall, heading in the direction of the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Hanna asked.
“To wash up. I smell of sweaty horses.”
She followed him up the stairs. “What did you say to Griff?” she asked, switching to Arabic to avoid being overheard.
“About what?”
“I don’t know about what. That’s why I’m asking you. He’s behaving strangely.”
They reached the second floor. “All toffs are peculiar.”
“What did you talk about?” she pressed. Something wasn’t right.
“Riding.”
“Is that all?”
“For the most part.”
“What does that mean?”
“Very well.” He halted and pivoted to face her. “We talked about you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I told him you would lose everything, that you would be shunned by your entire family and community if you lost your reputation.”
“What did you do that for?”
“Because I am your brother. It is my duty to protect you, not only from your toff but also from yourself.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“Any hamar can see that something is go
ing on between you two. And I am not a donkey.”
“Nothing is going on,” she half lied. “I know he is going to marry Lady Winters.”
“Exactly. And yet he’s always sniffing around you like a kelb, a dog who brought you out here on false pretenses.”
“I told you that was his sister’s doing.”
“Why would his sister invite you here? Do you think she views you as a potential sister in marriage? You’re just a plaything to her. Someone to make her brother feel better for now.”
She stiffened. “That’s not why she brought me here.”
He gave her a look. “You’re not that jahla.”
“I’m not naive.” But what if Griff’s sister really did view Hanna as a shermoota? A whore to warm Griff’s bed until he married his aristocratic lady? Her neck burned. Was that how Mrs. Rutland viewed her? Did she assume that Griff was bedding Hanna?
“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” Rafi said as they reached the bedchamber assigned to him. “So try using your brain, sister. Now, I need to wash up.” He went into his chamber and closed the door behind him.
Mortified, Hanna stared at the door. She hated it when Rafi was right. But his words struck a chord. Why else would Mrs. Rutland invite her here? Members of the merchant class didn’t dine with grand families, much less stay as overnight guests.
She’d been delaying the inevitable. Griff belonged to Lady Winters and fashionable society. Especially now that the ton no longer suspected him of murder. Staying here, spending any more time with Griff made Hanna appear a fool at best and a light-skirt at worst.
It was time to truly let Griff go.
“Have you been hiding out here in the study all day?” Dorcas asked Griff.
Griff glanced up from his father’s desk, his desk now. It all took so much getting used to. He’d spent most of the day working with his steward, Mr. Brown. “There are estate matters that I must acquaint myself with.”
“I thought you’d spend more time with your guests.”
He tipped his head toward his steward. “That will be all, Brown.”
“Very good, my lord.” The man tucked a ledger under his arm and quietly exited the room.
Griff leaned back in his chair. “Now what are you going on about?”
