Should he go after her and offer her more words of comfort?
Or should he leave her alone and allow her time to come to terms with her thoughts?
Was Griffin himself not in need of several minutes in which to fully take in the shocking implication of Bea’s suspicion regarding her treatment at the hands of the man called Jacob?
Chapter Six
Bea found it impossible to fall sleep. She was afraid to fall asleep. For fear that more of those dreams might come back to haunt her. For fear that she might learn more from those dreams than she was comfortable knowing...
So instead of sleeping, she threw back the dishevelled bedclothes and paced her bedchamber long after she had heard Griffin pass her door, no doubt on the way to his own bedchamber further down the hallway.
What must he now think of her?
Nothing she did not think of herself, Bea felt sure!
Of course, she was not to blame if she had been violated, but that would not make it any less true. Any less of a disgrace. Whether she had been forced or otherwise, it would not change the fact that Bea was no longer—
Bea raised her hands and pressed her palms tightly against each of her temples, sure she would go mad if she did not stop this circle of thought from going constantly round and round inside her head.
It felt as if there were no longer any air in her bedchamber for her to breathe!
Not enough room in here for her.
She needed to flee.
To escape!
‘I believe you are safer, here with me, than you would be anywhere else, Bea.’
She had no sooner thrown open her bedchamber door and stepped out into the hallway, her nightgown billowing about her bare legs, her hair loose about her shoulders and down her back, when she came to a halt at the sound of Griffin’s calm and reasoning voice.
Her eyes widened as she turned and saw him leaning casually back against the pale pink silk-covered wall just a short distance down the hallway.
He had removed his jacket, but still wore the rest of his evening clothes. He somehow looked younger now that he was less formally clothed, and with the darkness of his hair tousled on his brow, his grey eyes heavy with exhaustion.
Bea eyed him uncertainly. ‘I thought you had gone to your bedchamber some time ago.’
‘I did.’ Griffin straightened away from the wall to walk down the hallway towards her, his movements as silent and graceful as a large cat’s. ‘But I heard you pacing and muttering to yourself as I walked past your bedchamber, and guessed that you would find it difficult to sleep tonight. That you would perhaps have thoughts of running away?’ He came to a halt just inches in front of her, hooded lids preventing Bea from seeing the expression. ‘The things you remember suffering are bad enough on their own, Bea. Do not torture yourself further with thoughts of something that might not have happened.’
Tears stung her eyes as she gave a shake of her head. ‘That is all well and good for you to say, Griffin, but you cannot possibly understand.’
‘Bea, I was once held prisoner myself.’
‘You were?’ She blinked up at him uncertainly as he spoke quietly.
‘I was captured by the French after the battle of Talavera,’ he admitted grimly; it was not a time he normally chose to talk about. To anyone. And yet he knew that he had to. That it was his only way of assuring Bea that he knew a little of how she was feeling tonight. ‘I do not pretend to understand the devils tormenting you, but I know what it is like to lose your freedom, to have suffered physical torture. To know of the scars it leaves on the soul.’
‘How long were you held prisoner?’
He shrugged. ‘A week or so, until I too escaped. What I am really saying, Bea, is that we all carry scars about with us we have acquired from life, whether they be physical or emotional.’
Bea felt shame wash over her at learning Griffin had been held a prisoner of the French in the war against Napoleon. She had also forgotten, caught up in her own self-pity as she had been, that Griffin must grieve still for his dead wife, making her doubly ashamed at her own self-indulgence.
‘Life can be so cruel!’ She rested her forehead against Griffin’s wide and muscled chest, at once able to feel his reassuring warmth through the material of his waistcoat and shirt, and the steady, comforting beat of his heart. ‘Truth be told, I am afraid to fall asleep,’ she admitted huskily.
‘Understandably.’ Griffin’s arms moved about her as he held her close against him.
She could not seem to stop the trembling. ‘I— Would you—? Could you possibly sit with me for a while? Knowing you are there, and that I am safe, perhaps I will sleep and not dream?’
Griffin tensed at the request, knowing that his self-control was not at a premium where Bea was concerned. Just holding her in his arms like this, being completely aware of her nakedness beneath her nightgown, of her beautiful silky dark hair flowing loose down the length of her spine, was sorely testing that control.