The Viscount Made Me Do It by Diana Quincy

“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 going 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?”

“You’ve left your guests unattended.”

“Mr. Zaydan spends all of his time out with the horses. He’s off on a hack now.”

“And Miss Zaydan?”

“You invited her here.”

“Because I thought Miss Zaydan would provide some . . . comfort to you here at Ashby.”

He crinkled his brow. “Comfort?”

“I am a married woman. I’m not innocent to matters between men and women.”

Griff stiffened. “You brought her here because you thought she’d warm my bed?”

“I thought she could provide company and warmth, yes.”

“You think Miss Zaydan is my amour?” He lowered his chin, tucking it back toward his neck. “I assure you that she is not. She is a virtuous woman.”

“I am not suggesting she’s a harlot.” Dorcas’s tone was conciliatory. “But it isn’t as if she needs to be treated with the care of a lady. You don’t risk compromising her.”

“I have not bedded Miss Zaydan. It is an insult to her for you to suggest otherwise.”

“My husband keeps a mistress,” she said. “She’s the daughter of a hatmaker in Southwark. He thinks I don’t know about her. I am not proposing you take advantage of Miss Zaydan. You could come to a mutually agreeable arrangement. It’s clear the bonesetter finds you as appealing as you find her. She is hardly an innocent.”

But Griff knew Hanna was far naiver than she appeared. She really was an innocent in so many ways, although he suspected she’d bristle if he said as much to her face.

“As I said, Miss Zaydan is a respectable woman,” he repeated firmly. “You’ve seen her dispensary. She’s nobody’s whore.”

Dorcas held up her hands. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped. I thought I sensed something between the two of you. I wanted to ease the way for you to have what you want.”

“I’m not fifteen anymore, Dorcas,” he said tightly. “I will thank you to stay out of my private affairs. I can manage on my own.”

“I take your point. I won’t interfere again. I’m just so thrilled to have you back that I want to do everything in my power to ensure your happiness.”

“I shall have to create my own contentment.”

She paused, studying his face. “You always were fond of Selina.”

“Very,” he agreed.

“You will be happy with her.” It was a question as much as a statement.

“I shall be content.”

“I understand Selina and her mother are back at Hall House.”

“Selina is here in the country?” Her parents’ home was nearby. Less than thirty minutes away on foot. Griff had often walked there as a boy.

“Shall we invite them to supper?”

“They will decline. Selina insists that we not see each other or have any communication until we meet to discuss our future in a few weeks.”

Dorcas frowned. “Why? That hardly makes sense, considering that the two of you are to wed.”

“Selina wants us to take this time to seriously consider our futures. She hasn’t yet consented to marrying me.”

“She will. Selina is very fond of you.”

“I noticed you didn’t mention my taking Miss Zaydan to wife.”

She actually laughed. “She’s a merchant’s daughter. And a Levantine. Hardly viscountess material. But I imagine you’ll want to say goodbye before she departs this afternoon.”

He tensed. “She’s leaving?”

“Yes, as soon as her brother returns from his ride. She’s awaiting his return.”

He forced himself to stay seated, to project a lack of interest. “Where is she now?”

“In the solarium, reading.”

“I see. I’m pleased she’s found something to occupy her time until her brother returns.” He reached for a ledger and opened it. “It’s a relief. I have much to catch up on.”

He felt Dorcas’s curious gaze on him. “I shall leave you to your work.”

He kept his eyes on the ledger until the door closed before shooting to his feet. Hanna was leaving. He had to see her before she departed. He’d been cool with her yesterday after his talk with Rafi. And now, Dorcas’s assumptions about Hanna proved Rafi was correct. Griff needed to let Hanna go. He couldn’t leave her reputation in shambles.

But he also couldn’t let her leave without saying goodbye.

He found her in the solarium. He’d come around from the outside, not wanting Dorcas to catch him exiting his study in search of Hanna.

Hanna wore her yellow dress with a lace fichu tucked modestly into her neckline. Her hair was back in its severe bun at the nape of her neck. Her thick, dark lashes fanned out across her cheeks as she read.

“Are you reading something of interest?” he said as he came in through the door that led from the garden to the solarium.

“Not particularly. But it helps to pass the time until Rafi returns.”

“I hear you are leaving.”

“Yes. Your nephew is fine. There is no reason for me to be here.” Her reserve was firmly in place. “We’ll go as soon as Rafi returns from his ride. He was supposed to be back by now.”

“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

She glanced away. “You seem very busy.”

“I am never too busy for you,” he said softly.

She brought her gaze back to meet his. “Did you know your sister brought me here because she thought I was your strumpet?”

“No. At least, not at first. But she and your brother have enlightened me. We do need to stay away from each other.”

“I agree.” She closed the book. “It is for the best.”

He joined her on the iron bench but took care to keep plenty of distance between them. “Why is it that things that are supposed to be good for us make us miserable?”

“I wish I knew. I often wonder what would it be to live in a time when we can truly do as we please.”

“There’d be many more happy people in the world.”

The rules of society demanded that he marry Selina. The same strictures prevented him from pursuing a future with the laboring-class daughter of immigrant merchants. Even if he were free to take Hanna to wife, her family was against any match between them. Besides, the ton would never accept her. One could not be both a viscountess and a bonesetter. He’d never ask Hanna to abandon her passion for bonesetting and waste her considerable skills. And for what? In order to attend routs and recitals and make endless small talk?

They sat quietly as a wave of sadness ebbed over them.

She broke the silence. “We might as well get on with it.” The words were brisk. Hanna wasn’t one to wallow. “Have you had any luck finding your father’s journal?”

“It’s not in my father’s study. The next more likely place is Father’s sitting room. I haven’t worked up the courage to go in there.”

She paused, seeming to consider something. “I’m here until Rafi returns. I can help you look until then.”

“Are you certain?” His heart lifted at the prospect of having more time with her. “Your presence would definitely make the search more bearable.”

“I am positive.” She stood up. “Let’s go. My brother could return at any moment. He’s already overdue.”

He came to his feet. “I guess there’s no time to waste.”

Her face brightened. “Lead the way.”

Taking a deep breath, Griff led Hanna to his parents’ bedchamber.

Hanna was amazed by the grandeur of the family quarters at Ashby Manor.

The sitting room that linked the viscount’s and viscountess’s bedchambers was enormous, swathed in satins and velvets, with priceless paintings adorning almost every inch of wall space. As she searched, Hanna feared upending a vase or porcelain figure that might be worth more money than she could ever hope to repay.

Still, she was happy to help Griff. They’d begun this journey to find the truth together. It would be fitting to be able to end it together. While Hanna searched a marble-topped walnut writing table in the sitting room, Griff went into his father’s bedchamber. Which was really Griff’s now. But he’d been staying elsewhere in the family wing.

“Anything?” Griff asked as he emerged from the viscount’s bedchamber.

“Nothing in the sitting room. I’ve searched everywhere.”

He slumped into a seat. “Maybe it’s not here at Ashby. Or if he’s hidden it in one of the dozens of rooms or salons here, we’ll never find it.”

“Dr. Pratt wanted to go through your father’s papers at Haven House. Maybe he came out here and found the journal. Have you asked him if he has it?”

He shot her a skeptical look. “What is the likelihood he’ll tell the truth if he does?”

He had a point. “We haven’t checked your mother’s rooms. Maybe he left it in there?”

“He did spend most nights in Mother’s bed.” He flushed.

As did she. It did not require much imagination to understand why Griff’s parents shared a bed.

Griff came to his feet. “Let’s check Mother’s room.”

Hanna followed him into the adjoining bedchamber. She made every effort to appear nonchalant. Which was impossible considering she’d entered a bedchamber with a man to whom she was very much attracted. The mammoth canopied bed, the room’s centerpiece, did not help.

She tried to distract herself by taking in the room’s decoration. Bright embroidered birds and flowers against a crisp white background adorned the silk bed hangings. Birds also graced the wall tapestries and were carved into the marble mantel.

Hanna ran a hand over the bed hangings. “I gather your mother was fond of birds.”

He chuckled. “Very.”

“How is it for you to be in this bedchamber again?”

He surveyed the room. “To be frank, not as strange as I thought it would be.”

“Where do we start?”

He walked to the far side of the bed.

“Why there?”

He flushed again. “This was Father’s side.”

“Oh.” Being in such a private, such an intimate, space prompted Hanna’s pulse to pound hard through her veins. She suddenly felt desperate. Soon Rafi would return from his ride, and she and Griff would part forever. She’d never again know his kiss or touch or be held by him. Only a fool would pass up this opportunity to be with him in the most intimate way.

“It’s so unfair.”

Griff looked up from the drawer he was going through. “What is?”

“That I’ll never be kissed by you again.”

The cords of his throat moved. “Hanna,” he warned. “We should not talk of such things. We agreed.”

“Not because we want to.”

“No, not because we want to,” he agreed softly.

“What we do is our business.”

“If only that were true.”

“I want you.” She licked her lips. “I want you to be the one.”

He stilled. “What are you saying?”

“I want to know what it is to be bedded by a man. But not just any man. You.”

“There is nothing I want more.” He swallowed. “But I cannot do that to you. It wouldn’t be right.”

“I am not asking for forever. I’m just asking you for this one thing. This one time. No one need ever know.”

He was shaking his head. “You aren’t thinking clearly. You are moved by the moment.” She sensed the tension in his athletic form. “As am I.”

“You’re correct, I am.” She moved to him, to where he stood on his father’s side of the bed. “I am moved by the urgency of our situation. Once Rafi returns, we will have forever lost our chance.”

“Coming in here was a mistake.”

“Was it really?” She put her arms around his waist and set her cheek against his chest. His heart beat furiously. She ran her hands up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. He kept his hands stiffly by his side.

He groaned. “We need to stop now.” The words were low, husky and utterly lacking in conviction.

“Why?” She stood on the tips of her toes to drag her lips across his closed mouth. “Consider our circumstances. I don’t intend to marry. At this very moment, you remain unattached.”

“Stop making this sound so reasonable.” He kissed her back. But just barely. As if he couldn’t let her lips touch his without responding.

“There’s nothing real stopping us.” She nibbled the underside of his strong jaw. “Are you truly so cruel as to deny me the chance to know what it is to lie with a man?”

“I’m being a gentleman.” His voice sounded strained, as if heavy weights were pressing against his vocal cords.

“If it’s not you, it will eventually be someone else. Maybe Evan would oblige me.”

He stiffened. “That is not even remotely amusing.”

“The problem is that the only hands I want on my body are yours.” She pressed a kiss in the V of his shirt, against the warmth of his throat. His body trembled beneath her lips. “Please.”

“Hanna.” The way he said her name was both a warning and a prayer.

She pulled back to stare into steely-blue eyes. But what she saw in his gaze was anything but cool. “Are you going to make me beg?”