The Regency Season: Decadent Dukes. Кэрол Мортимер

Griffin nodded an abrupt dismissal. ‘And I would appreciate it if you would take yourself off to work elsewhere on the estate for the rest of the day,’ he added harshly, causing the bewildered young man to turn away and quickly collect up his tools ready for departing.

      Bella felt equally bewildered by the harshness of Griffin’s tone and behaviour. It was almost as if he suspected her and the gardener of some wrongdoing, of some mischief, when all they had been doing was—

      ‘Oh!’ She gasped after glancing towards the house to see that the library window overlooked this garden, and realised exactly what Griffin had suspected her and the handsome gardener of doing.

      Bella made sure that the young gardener had walked far enough away out of earshot, before she glared up into the harshly drawn face looking down at her so condescendingly. ‘How could you?’

      The Duke quirked that infuriatingly superior eyebrow. ‘How could I what?’

      ‘You know exactly what I am talking about.’ Bella sighed her impatience. ‘How can you have been so disgusting as to have thought—to suggest, that I—that we—?’ She was too angry to say any more as she instead turned sharply on her stockinged heels to run back towards the house.

      Hateful man.

      Hateful, suspicious, disgusting man!

      Griffin stood unmoving for several seconds after Bella had departed so abruptly, totally taken aback by her reaction. To the anger she had made no effort to hide from him as she’d spoken to him so accusingly.

      Why was she angry with him, when she was the one who had been—?

      The one who had been what?

      Exactly what had Griffin actually seen from the library window?

      The beautiful Bella in her overlarge gown, with her gloriously black hair loose and curling down the length of her spine, in conversation with one of his under-gardeners.

      A young and handsome under-gardener, accepted, but Bella had not been standing scandalously close to Sutton, nor had she been behaving in a flirtatious manner towards him. Admittedly she had been smiling as she chatted so easily with the younger man, but even that was not reason enough for Griffin to have made the assumption he had.

      Could it be that he had been jealous of her easy conversation and laughter with the younger man?

      Was it possible that he thought, because of the unusual circumstances of Bella being here with him at all, that her smiles and laughter belonged only to him?

      That she now somehow belonged to him?

      * * *

      ‘Bella?’

      She stiffened and ceased her crying, but made no effort to lift her head from the pillow into which it was currently buried as she lay face down on the bed.

      She made no verbal acknowledgement of Griffin’s presence in her bedchamber at all. Correction, his bedchamber. As all of this magnificent house, and the extensive estate surrounding it, also belonged to him.

      And she, having absolutely no knowledge of her past or even her name, was currently totally beholden to him.

      But that did not mean Griffin Stone had the right to treat her with such suspicion. That he could virtually accuse her of flirting with Arthur Sutton. Or worse...

      The under-gardener had been nice. A young man who had not been in the least familiar in his manner towards her, but rather accepted her as a guest of the Duke, and had treated her accordingly.

      Not that she could expect Griffin to believe that when his mind was so obviously in the gutter.

      What had she done to deserve such suspicion from him?

      Admittedly, the circumstances of their meeting had been unusual to say the least, but surely there had to be an explanation for that?

      Even if she had no idea as yet what that explanation was...

      Besides which, she was so obviously battered and bruised, it was ludicrous to imagine that any man might find her attractive in her present state.

      Although, there was no denying that Griffin himself had physically reacted to her close proximity earlier.

      Perhaps it was just that he was a little odd, if he was attracted to a woman who was covered in bruises!

      Which was a little worrying, now that Bella considered the possibility fully.

      The Duke did not look like a gentleman who enjoyed inflicting pain, but that was no reason to suppose—

      ‘I apologise, Bella.’

      The bed dipped beside her as the Duke, obviously tired of waiting for her response to his initial overture, now sat down on the side of the bed.

      ‘Bella?’

      Her body went rigid as he placed a hand lightly against her spine. ‘We both know that is not my name.’ Her voice was muffled as she spoke into the pillow.

      ‘I thought we had agreed that it would do for now?’ he cajoled huskily.

      Until they discovered what her name really was, Bella easily picked up on his unspoken comment.

      If they ever discovered what her name really was, she added inwardly.

      Which was part of the reason she had been so upset when she’d returned to the house just now.

      Oh, there was no doubting this aloof and arrogant Duke had behaved appallingly out in the garden just now; he had spoken with unwarranted terseness to Arthur Sutton, and had certainly been disrespectful to her. His implied accusations regarding the two of them had been insulting, to say the least.

      Bella’s previous treatment, as well as her present precarious situation, meant that her tears were all too ready to fall at the slightest provocation...

      Griffin Stone’s behaviour in the garden had not been slight, but extreme.

      Bella slipped out from beneath his hand before rolling over to face him, hardening her heart as she saw the way he looked down at her in apology. She had been enjoying her time out in the garden, and he had now spoilt that for her.

      For those brief moments she had spoken with Arthur Sutton she had felt normal, and not at all like the bedraggled and beaten woman the Duke had found in the woods the previous night.

      Her chin rose challengingly. ‘Your behaviour in the garden—the cold way you spoke to Arthur Sutton, as well as to me—was unforgivably condescending.’

      Griffin only just managed to hold back his smile as Bella administered the rebuke so primly. To smile now would be a mistake on his part, when Bella was so obviously not in the mood to appreciate the humour.

      ‘And wholly undeserved,’ she added crossly as some of that primness deserted her to be replaced by indignation. ‘You may well be overlord here, Your Grace, but that does not permit you to make assumptions about other people. Assumptions, I might add, that in this case were wholly unfounded.’

      Oh, yes, this young woman was certainly educated and from a titled or wealthy family, Griffin acknowledged ruefully; that set-down had been worthy of any of the grand ladies of the ton!

      Did Bella even realise that? he wondered.

      Possibly not, when she had no knowledge of anything before her arrival here last night.

      Appeared to have no knowledge, he again reminded himself.

      There was still that last lingering doubt in Griffin’s mind regarding her claim of amnesia. Added to, no doubt, by his having just observed her in conversation with one of his under-gardeners.

      What if she had been passing information on to Arthur Sutton? If her arrival here in his home had been premeditated?

      Shortly before the assassination plot against the Prince Regent had been foiled several