The Price of Desire. Jo GoodmanЧитать онлайн книгу.
corner of her mouth to aid in balancing the saucer and cup in the same way the kitchen lad had sought to balance the tray. “Thank you.” She was gratified to see the cup didn’t tremble as she lifted it to her lips. The taste of it was welcome, washing away the unpleasantness that lingered in her mouth and throat.
“I should like to discuss your brother’s marker,” Griffin said. “You realize that’s what it is, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I’m familiar with the term. I’m afraid I don’t understand the whole of what happened. He lost money at your games, that much is clear, though why you permitted him to amass such a debt is not. Did you not make a point earlier that you knew your patrons?”
“I wasn’t present, else it would not have occurred. I had to be away from town that evening. It was upon my return that Mrs. Christie informed me of what had transpired.”
“Mrs. Christie?”
“A friend,” he said shortly. “She is sometimes called upon to observe the play in my absence.”
Olivia thought she should refrain from advancing any observations regarding Mrs. Christie. Though she dearly wondered if the woman was a partner in Breckenridge’s business, she did not put the question to him either.
“She did not know the extent of Mr. Cole’s existing debt until she laid the whole of the evening’s play before me. I take responsibility for the oversight, but not responsibility for the debt. That is your brother’s.”
Olivia did not argue the point. He was right. “It is difficult to imagine that Alastair willingly parted with the ring. As he mentioned, it is an heirloom.”
“He told me it belonged to his father.”
“Yes. And his father before, and so on. That is what qualifies it as an heirloom.”
Griffin thought she delivered her darts with a gentle touch. He would check himself for wounds later. “Yes, well, he didn’t precisely offer,” he admitted. “He didn’t resist either.”
“Were you threatening to cut off his finger?”
“It didn’t come to that.”
But it might have. The thought came so strongly to her that Olivia wondered if she’d spoken it aloud. Breckenridge’s unapologetic, matter-of-fact expression told her that she may as well have. He’d plucked the thought just that easily from her head.
“As I recall,” Griffin said, “I admired the ring, he protested for form’s sake, I asked for it, and he held out his hand for me to take it. It was accomplished with a minimum of fuss. I wore it until he left the room, then I put it away.” He held up his hands to show they were bare. “I gave your brother four days to come up to snuff. He benefited by the fact that I was called away again so that I did not discover the ring had been exchanged for his marker until very late last night. You benefited because I waited until this morning to make you account for it.”
Olivia trusted that was so. His anger was well checked today, but she did not think she would have cared to witness it last night when every one of her own nerves was so tautly stretched. She acknowledged his restraint. “It was a kindness that you waited. Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
She nodded. “I know, but it’s true I benefited.”
A small crease appeared between Griffin’s eyebrows as he continued to regard her closely. “Are you being clever, I wonder. If so, you should know that I am not easily taken in.”
“I thought I was being honest. If you think there is something clever in that, I will not attempt to dissuade you.”
He raised his cup once more to his lips, wishing—not for the first time—that he had more whiskey in the thing than tea. He drank, set the cup down, and allowed himself a small admission. “I cannot say that you have met or exceeded my expectations, Miss Cole, since I conceived of none, but I think there is no harm in telling you that I find you to be a most singular individual. I offer no judgment as to the good or bad of it. It is simply that I want to acknowledge a certain peculiarity of character about you that I find more intriguing than annoying.”
Olivia tilted her head a fraction as she took in the import of his words. “Then I have missed the mark, my lord, for I did so wish to be annoying.”
A glimmer of a smile played along his mouth. “It is my perversity, I’m afraid, not yours, that makes it thus. We shall have to, both of us, endeavor to go forward. Now, I should like to have your brother’s marker returned to me. It is crushed in one of your fists, I believe.”
Olivia saw no merit in pretending to be surprised by his observation. She would have liked to destroy Alastair’s marker, true, but she also would have liked to have accomplished the thing without being caught out. It was borne home to her once more that very little escaped his lordship’s notice. She stood and handed over the note.
“You show considerable restraint yourself, Miss Cole. For a moment I thought you might dunk it in your tea.”
She might have, had it occurred to her. “It’s yours,” she said simply.
“So was the ring…briefly.” He ran the side of his hand over the note, smoothing it out so he could then fold it neatly. When he was done he returned it to the cubby he’d taken it from, then sat back in his chair and made a steeple of his fingers as he considered what must be done.
“I presume you know your brother better than I. What do you predict he will do?”
“He will speak to our father.”
“Will he? You don’t think he’ll run off? I had the sense that he was almost pleading with me to take you. I considered that he wanted to relieve himself of the responsibility, though how he can be your caretaker or guardian surpasses my understanding. He is an unlikely candidate for the role since he is in no fashion responsible for himself.”
“He won’t run off.”
“Even if Sir Hadrien refuses his request?” Griffin saw her hesitate and knew he had hit the mark directly. “You are not so certain now, are you? Has Mr. Cole any other means of raising so much of the ready?”
“I cannot say.”
“Which means he doesn’t.”
“It means I cannot say. My brother does not confide everything to me.”
“Why not? He writes that you are clever and resourceful. Vastly clever. Why does he not avail himself of such intelligence as you are alleged to possess?”
“Although I am older by three years, Alastair has recently come to fancy himself my protector.”
So she was four and twenty. He’d wondered. “God help you, then.”
Olivia set her mouth in a disapproving line. “You tell your sisters all, I collect.”
Hoist by his own petard, Griffin admitted that he did not. His exact words were, “Perish the thought.”
“Just so. My brother determines what I must know. It is frustrating and worrisome, but telling him that changes nothing. He promises he will do better, but he is a man, and thinks he must have his secrets from me.”
Griffin considered this, uncertain what he could believe. “Would regularly visiting this establishment and others like it be one of his secrets?”
“In a manner of speaking. I knew he enjoyed making wagers and participated frequently in the sort of silly speculations that young men take into their heads. You must be familiar with such things. Will the hack driver turn right or left at the next crossroads? How many pitchers of ale can the serving girl balance on her tray without mishap? Will it rain before noon, do you think? Snow? Hail? Can a certain gentleman deep in his cups still have his way with the—”
Raising one hand, Griffin stopped her. “I am familiar,” he said dryly. “The hack driver,