It was important to set Susan Crompton’s low opinion of him straight. He was an earl after all. He may have inherited the title years before he’d expected to, but his father had nevertheless groomed him from boyhood.
The memory of his beloved father washed over him, tightening the knot in his chest. Perhaps he hadn’t yet lived up to his sire’s expectations.
“Good morning, my lord,” Susan said, her tone unexpectedly friendly. “I didn’t realize you are acquainted with Baron Whiteside.”
“Yes,” he replied. It wasn’t an outright lie. He and Bertrand were acquainted. “And please, my name is Griffith.”
I’ll coax her into calling me Griff later, when we’re more…
It suddenly struck him he’d never allowed any of his paramours to call him Griff. Such a thing would be too personal, too intimate. Unthinkable. “You’re fortunate to have a good neighbor,” he said, tucking in to the plate of bacon and eggs served by a liveried footman.
“Whiteside’s a good chap,” his host replied.
“Unlike his son,” Patsy declared, her pretty features spoiled by a grimace.
“Now, Patsy,” her mother chided. “All that’s in the past, and Arthur has paid for his sins.”
Griff kept chewing, convinced now his suspicion that the kidnapping had involved Patsy was correct.
He stopped chewing when his glance fell on Susan. She was doing it again. Fluttering her eyelashes. The plan to seduce her might be easier than he’d thought. He feared he might choke on a piece of bacon that went down the wrong way when the minx said, “So, Griffith, I’m anxious to learn from an expert how to start a stud farm.”
He guzzled the glass of water Emma passed to him. “Er…” he gasped, his eyes darting around the table. It seemed no one else was shocked by Susan’s inappropriate proposal. “I’d hoped to have a private discussion with the earl about improving the management of my estate,” he offered as a way out.
“And so you shall,” the earl replied. “It’s Gabriel, by the way.”
“Gabriel,” he acknowledged, risking another forkful of fried egg. The food was wholesome, the eggs cooked just the way he liked them, the buttered toast perfect, the coffee strong. As he cleaned his plate, he realized with satisfaction he had truly enjoyed his breakfast for the first time in days. But it wasn’t simply because of the food. The members of the family who resided at Thicketford Manor were congenial and friendly, notwithstanding the confrontation at the trial.
The prospect of using guile to regain Orion suddenly didn’t sit well in his gut.
“Do you plan to take action to mitigate your tenants’ convictions, Griffith?” Susan asked with a false smile, quickly ridding him of bothersome scruples.
“Yes, Susan,” he replied sweetly, pleased when his failure to use her title banished the smile. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking of seeking out the justices later today. Would you like to accompany me? It can’t hurt if we both plead their case.”
*
Susan hesitated, tryingto decide if Griffith Halliwell was up to something. Was he playing his own game, or was he falling for her feminine wiles? Although, she hadn’t really used any yet. Not that she knew much about feminine wiles when it came to men. Did she even possess such skills?
Having decided the welfare of the weavers had to be her priority, she looked into expectant green eyes. “I’d like to accompany you, but it’s rather a long way.”
“Not to worry,” he replied with what seemed a genuine smile. “My carriage is being repaired in Preston. Hopefully, it will be ready today and we can travel in comfort. If the distance proves too much, you can stay overnight at Clifton Heights and return on the morrow.”
Susan felt obliged to protest the impropriety of such a suggestion, but Pendlebury carried on. “Perhaps Lady Emma might come with us.”
That raised Susan’s hackles. Surely he didn’t intend to persist in his flirtation with Emma? And she couldn’t very well begin her campaign to flirt with Halliwell if Emma was present.
“I must decline,” Emma replied. “I already feel guilty about the time spent apart from my infant son while we were in Chester.”
Susan was relieved but worried the opportunity to speak on behalf of the weavers was slipping away.
Rebecca came to her rescue. “I’d like to accompany you. It’s a cause I too firmly believe in.”
“The ladies can perhaps give me pointers about Clifton Heights,” Halliwell offered, bringing a big smile to Rebecca’s face. “I admit I’ve neglected the place.”
“It’s as well you and Susan will have a chaperone with you,” Emma murmured nervously.
Halliwell raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry,” he replied with a disturbing chuckle. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, won’t we, Susan?”
The intensity of his emerald gaze sent very peculiar but not unpleasant sensations spiraling into Susan’s womb. She glanced down quickly, mortified to see her tingling nipples putting on quite a show. “Yes, of course,” she replied, filled with a ludicrous sense of regret that she didn’t know the first thing about misbehaving with a man.