A Risk Worth Taking

by Laura Landon

  “Of course I would have. His attention to you would have made our queen quite unhappy, and no telling what bad tidings would have befallen us.”

  “You are impossible.”

  Griff smiled. “Not impossible. Perhaps a little difficult, but only because—”

  She gave him another searing glare that stopped his words. “If you will excuse me, I need to go for a walk in the garden.”

  “Would you like me to—”

  “No! I would like you to stay far away from me.” She rose, then walked across the room with an angry swish of her skirts.

  “Don’t stay out too long, Anne,” Patience said. “We’re invited to the Earl of Framingham’s ball tonight and will need to get ready soon.”

  “I won’t,” she answered, then opened the door.

  And was gone.

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence when Griff’s brother and sister-in-law looked accusingly in his direction. The tension thickened until Griff wanted to squirm in his seat. Thankfully, Adam broke the silence.

  “Are you going to the Framinghams’, Griff?”

  “I had intended to.”

  “Perhaps you might want to find your own way tonight. I’m not certain your company will be appreciated.”

  Griff couldn’t keep the surprised look from his face. “Perhaps I should go speak with her,” he said, staring at the door where she’d exited.

  “Only if you intend to offer up an apology or two,” Adam said, lifting his eyebrows in the familiar way that was as good as a command.

  “You think I need to apologize?” Griff couldn’t hide his surprise.

  “You definitely crossed the line this afternoon, Griff,” Patience said behind a shy smile. “Even worse than yesterday. I’m afraid just an apology may not be sufficient. I’m afraid you may need to grovel.”

  “Grovel?”

  “Yes, grovel.”

  Griff considered Patience’s warning. Surely not. “Thank you for your advice, my lady,” he said, lifting Patience’s hand and kissing it. “I appreciate your concern.”

  Patience’s words echoed in his head as he made his way to the door. He knew he’d been rude and overbearing, but bloody hell, how could he be anything but? None of the jackals paying her court were worth the effort it would take to throw them out the door.

  He still hadn’t found one he would let her marry.

  “I prefer to be left alone,” Anne said stiffly when she heard his boots hit against the stones on the garden path. “And even if I did want company, your presence would be the last I would let take up space anywhere near me.”

  “Patience said I needed to apologize. I see she was correct.”

  “Apologize! If you think you can fix the abominable way you behaved with a simple apology, you are greatly mistaken.”

  He at least had the good sense to look remorseful. “Well, actually, Patience said I would need to grovel. I see that was closer to the truth.”

  “You could grovel from here to Westminster and back, and it would not excuse the way you behaved this afternoon. How dare you treat my guests with such rudeness and blatant disregard! You have no right to tell me with whom I can associate and with whom I can’t. You have no right to intimidate them so.”

  He pointed to the end of the stone bench where she was sitting. “May I?”

  “No.” She scooted to the center of the bench so there was no room for him beside her.

  His next word surprised her. Or maybe it was the way in which he said it. “Please.”

  With a sigh of frustration, she acquiesced and scooted as far to the opposite side of the bench as she could. She moved her skirt so he had room to sit. But she refused to be polite to him. After the way he’d behaved, he didn’t deserve it.

  “It’s a beautiful afternoon, isn’t it?” he asked, looking at the clear blue sky above.

  “It’s been a horrible afternoon, and it’s entirely your fault.”

  “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?”

  “No. You don’t deserve it.”

  He breathed a deep sigh and sat up straight. He kept his shoulders rigid.

  For several long minutes neither of them spoke. Suddenly, he rose from the bench and took a step away from her. With his back to her, he looked out onto the blooming flower beds. His voice, when he spoke, wrapped around her like a soothing balm. His words reached inside her breast and cradled her heart.

  “I’m afraid I’m not good at apologizing. Even worse at groveling. If you found my behavior rude, suffice it to say I was only trying to point out the shortcomings in the men vying for your attention. Choosing a husband is a very serious decision. Due to the time limitations you are under, I thought it prudent to aid you to the best of my abilities. If you found my behavior offensive, I will apologize for that. But I’m afraid that is all for which I will offer an apology.”

  He stopped and Anne stared at him open-mouthed. She wanted to stay angry with him, heaven only knew he deserved it. But how could she when his voice rang with a sincerity that tugged at a place deep inside her breast?

  She studied him. He clasped his strong hands tightly behind his back. His proud stance remained rigid, the contour of his broad shoulders exhibited a strength she ached to be able to rely on. She lifted her chin and her eyes caught the shimmering hues in his dark hair as the bright sunlight bathed it.

  Anne clenched her hands in her lap to keep from reaching out to rake her fingers through his thick waves. Oh, she remembered the feel of it from when she’d sat with him. From when she’d held him.

  Then he turned to face her.

  Deep creases etched his forehead, his concern evident in his gaze. The tempo of her thundering heartbeats increased.

  “Am I forgiven?”

  Anne swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Only if I have your promise you will never behave like that again.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  He held her gaze and something shifted deep inside her where she thought her heart might be.

  “You are going to make this difficult, aren’t you, my lady?”

  “You’re the one who has made things difficult, Mr. Blackmoor.”

  “But surely it was obvious that none of the gentlemen vying for your attention were acceptable?”

  “Acceptable to whom? You?”

  “No. To you.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “But I have to marry someone. You know that as well as I. How else can I provide for Becca, and see that she makes a good match? How can I do that if you discourage every male from showing an interest in me?” She rose from her seat and stepped toward him. “I have been here nearly three weeks already. I don’t have much time left. I can’t impose on the earl’s generosity forever.”

  “But none of the gentlemen here today were right for you. Surely you could see that?”

  “I don’t know what I see anymore. Please, Mr. Blackmoor. Don’t make this any more difficult than it is. Let me find a husband on my own. You’ve fulfilled your obligation to Freddie simply by bringing me to London. You aren’t responsible for anything else.”

  His eyes turned dark. Any hint of softness she thought she’d seen in his features faded from his face. With a look of resignation, he gave her a stiff nod.

  “Very well, my lady. If that is how you want it, then that is how it will be.”

  “That is how it must be, Mr. Blackmoor.”

  Their gazes locked for several moments; then he turned and walked down the path toward the house.

  Chapter 13

  Her evening at the Framingham ball promised to be anything but enjoyable. Griffin Blackmoor and the earl stood amid a small group of fashionably dressed men on the opposite side of the room. Griff hadn’t bothered her once all evening.

  Anne didn’t understand it, but for the first time since she’d arrived in London, she felt alone. Abandoned.

  Not once did he give her a disapproving glare when she danced with someone he didn’t approve of. Or even
lift his dark brows in a questioning frown when someone he didn’t think was suitable marriage material approached her. It was as if he didn’t know she was there.

  She liked this latest attitude far less than the overprotective interference she’d objected to before. She suddenly felt as if he’d deserted her.

  She took in a deep breath and shook off such a ridiculous notion. How could she think he had abandoned her when she was the one who had demanded that he leave her alone?

  She turned to find the Earl of Welleby standing in front of her.

  “I can’t guess who the person occupying your thoughts so completely might be, but I find I envy him your attention more than I can say.”

  Anne lowered her gaze, afraid she might turn her head to look at Griffin Blackmoor and give herself away. “It was no one. I was just lost in thought.”

  “Well, if I might tear you away from such ponderous musings, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”

  Anne smiled. “I would be delighted.”

  The earl was tall and good-looking, with reddish hair and steely-gray eyes that held little warmth. She took his offered hand and, for his sake, tried to pretend she enjoyed his company.

  She smiled as he twirled her around the floor and kept up the conversation as much as possible. But every time they moved to where Griff was in sight, she couldn’t help but look in his direction. And each time, a painful knot tightened in the pit of her stomach because he hadn’t looked at her once. He even stood with his back to her, as if dismissing her from his sight.

  “You seem flushed, my lady. Would you like to step outside for a breath of air?”

  “What?”

  “I asked if you would like to step outside for a breath of air.”

  “Oh, yes. That would be nice.”

  The earl led her out onto the terrace, then to the far corner where a short cement railing cordoned them off from entering the garden.

  Colored lanterns of yellow and orange and green decorated the terrace, but the spot where they stood was just beyond the last lantern and more in the shadows than in the light.

  “I have waited all evening for a chance to have you to myself,” the earl said from beside her. “You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman here.”

  “Thank you, my lord, but I hardly think—”

  “No, do not deny it. All others pale in comparison.”

  Anne stepped to the side to put more room between them.

  The earl inched closer, then reached for her hand.

  His hands were hot and sweaty. His touch made her uncomfortable.

  “I knew we shared something special the first time we met. Do you remember where that was?”

  “Of course,” she said, pulling ever so slightly to free herself. The way the earl rubbed his thumb over her fingers and against the top of her hand bothered her. “We met nearly two weeks ago at the Countess of Fillington’s ball.”

  “And I have not been able to think of anyone but you since then. You enchanted me with your beauty, captured my heart with your warmth, and totally enthralled me with your graciousness. You have me at your mercy, my dearest Lady Anne. I beg you to allow me the honor of speaking to Lord Covington and announcing my intentions.”

  Anne felt a cold wave of apprehension wash over her. “No!”

  He pulled her closer against him. “Please. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “I’m sorry, but we don’t know each other. You can’t possibly think that—”

  His hot breath washed against her cheek and his hands moved over her shoulder. This was hardly the sort of conversation she wanted, hardly the confrontation she was prepared to handle.

  “It’s not sudden,” he whispered against her ear. “I have prayed for a chance to tell you how I feel. A time when Mr. Blackmoor would give us a moment of privacy, and now I have it. I can’t waste even one second of it. I fear you have captured my heart, my lady, and it will cease to beat if you deny me.”

  Before she could stop him, he brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her.

  His mouth was warm and wet, his touch disgusting. The harder she pushed against him, the harder he pressed his soft lips against hers, crushing against her until she wanted to scream.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” Griffin Blackmoor’s deep, penetrating voice said from behind them.

  The Earl of Welleby dropped his arms from her shoulders and faced the intruder. “I’m afraid you are, my good man. Lady Anne and I were enjoying the beautiful evening.”

  “Then I must have misinterpreted what I saw. It didn’t look like Lady Anne was enjoying herself in the least.” He took one step toward them, then another. “I think I will ask the lady if she was enjoying your attentions, and if she tells me she did not appreciate your advances and you are still here, you can be sure you will never enjoy another beautiful evening for the rest of your very short life.”

  “If you think you can bully me into—”

  “Lady Anne,” Griff said, taking another step toward them. “Would you like me to go back into the house so you and the earl may continue to enjoy the evening?”

  Before she could choke out a sound or even shake her head in answer, the earl was gone.

  Griff stepped up to her and clasped his fingers around her upper arms. “Are you all right?”

  She tried to tell him she was, but her body refused to stop shaking. Her chin trembled so violently she couldn’t release one word from her mouth.

  She refused to cry in front of him. She was the one who’d insisted she could do this on her own, that she did not need his interference. But how could she concentrate on another man when she couldn’t think of anyone but him? When she didn’t want to talk to, dance with, or look at anyone but him? When the reason she’d come out to the garden with the earl was to get away from Griff, so it wouldn’t hurt so much when he ignored her?

  Her vision blurred and one traitorous tear trickled down her cheek before she could swipe it away.

  “Ah, hell,” she heard him mumble, then he took her in his arms.

  Anne wrapped her arms around his waist and held on as if he were the only safe harbor in her stormy world.

  “If you get my new silk cravat wrinkled and wet, my lady, I will hold you accountable.”

  “I won’t, sir,” she whispered, breathing in the masculine scent she’d come to love so. “I’m not crying. I’m only angry.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He held her with a great amount of tenderness. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “You were a little fool for coming out here with the earl,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath was a soothing balm over her flesh. “Don’t you realize what could have happened?”

  She knew she should pull away from him, should step out of his arms and the comfort he afforded her. Griffin Blackmoor was the last man on the face of the earth she should let hold her. The last man she should trust with her heart and her future. He was exactly what she swore she would never want, the kind of man she would never allow to become important to her. A man she couldn’t trust to stay sober from one day to the next.

  But she couldn’t step away from him. He was the man her heart ached to have hold her and touch her and kiss her.

  She lifted her head and looked into his face. What she saw in his eyes startled her. He was as frightened of what was happening between them as she was.

  He kept his gaze riveted on hers a moment longer before he clamped his hands on either side of her face and lowered his head.

  “Ah, hell,” he whispered again as his mouth covered hers.

  A warm heat spread through her and settled in a spot low in her stomach. Her knees grew weak.

  He kissed her tenderly, touched her softly, then deepened his kiss.

  She kissed him back in her inexperienced, untutored way, knowing she lacked a knowledge she wanted desperately to have. But he didn’t seem to mind. He tipped her face to the side and kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around
his neck and accepted what he offered.

  A soft, almost gentle moan echoed in the darkness and she realized it had come from him. She didn’t know what power he possessed over her, but she would have agreed to anything when he kissed her like that.

  “Oh,” she whispered, her breathing ragged and gasping. Her blood thundered against her ears and her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. And still she wanted more.

  He kissed her again, then lifted his mouth from hers. His gaze lowered, then locked with hers. A frown deepened across his brows. “We shouldn’t have kissed.” His voice was hoarse. “It was a dreadful mistake.”

  “Kissing me was that terrible?”

  He turned his back on her. “Yes,” he answered.

  Anne reached out her hand to the railing to steady herself. His single word hurt more than she thought possible.

  “It might be best if we don’t go back inside together,” he said from the shadows. “Are you all right, or should I send Patience out here to you?”

  “No,” she answered, pressing her fist against her stomach. The ache she experienced was the result of a painful lesson. She would never let a man do this to her again. “I am fine, Mr. Blackmoor. You are an excellent teacher. A little harsh in what you hoped to prove, but an excellent teacher. I have learned a lesson I will never forget.”

  Without looking to see his reaction, she stepped around him and walked away. On legs that trembled beneath her, she made her way through the ballroom.

  Anne found Lady Patience discussing the latest fashions with the Duchess of Weston, and joined in. She forced herself to smile, and glanced occasionally at the terrace doors, but didn’t see him again.

  That was just as well.

  He was gone when she rose the next morning. The Earl of Covington called her into his study to inform her that Griff had moved to his own town house late last night and would not be returning.

  The earl said Griff had given no explanation other than it was time for him to go home and that he trusted her good judgment in choosing a husband.