Now, it was his turn to fill his lungs and hope he didn’t spoil the fragile moment of friendship. “Actually, I’ve been toying with the idea of moving back.”
She came to halt and looked into his eyes. “What about Pendlebury Stables?”
“Clifton Heights is well equipped to be a profitable stud farm. It’s close to Manchester and within easy reach of several wealthy estates.”
Eyes narrowed, she remained silent, so he carried on. “Lancashire is destined to become increasingly industrialized, resulting in enormous wealth for others besides the nobility. These new titans of industry may not be noblemen but they’ll feel pressure to act as if they are. The sport of kings will grow in popularity; owning a winning thoroughbred will be a status symbol.”
To his relief, she didn’t pull her arm away. He hoped that meant she was considering his reasonable arguments.
“You intend to bring your operation north?” she asked after they’d walked a little further.
This was the point of no return. He heard the doubt in her voice. Orion snorted and he hoped the animal’s warm breath on his nape augured well. “Yes, and I would like permission to add your horse to the string of stallions. Orion will be the jewel in the crown.”
He suddenly realized they’d reached the dower house. “Impressive,” he declared, struggling not to appear impatient with her silence.
“I can show you the interior, if you wish,” she said, confirming once more he should always expect the unexpected from Susan.
“I’d be honored,” he replied truthfully, suspecting few, if any, gentlemen had ever been invited into Susan’s home.
He tied Orion’s rope to a nearby tree and followed her to the front door.
“You’ll recognize Rebecca’s influence,” she said as a wide-eyed butler let them into the foyer.
“The Earl of Pendlebury,” she explained to the servant.
“Jenkinson, my lord, at your service.”
Griff handed his hat to the haughty fellow who’d clearly been trained by Frame, though a glint of surprise twinkled in Jenkinson’s eyes.
Ignoring her butler, Susan proceeded to describe the provenance of several works of art on display in the expansive foyer.
“You’re avoiding answering my proposal,” he said.
He followed when she stuck her chin in the air and flounced off into what turned out to be a drawing room.
“Please sit,” she said curtly.
“I’d prefer to stand,” he replied.
“So you can throttle me if I say no?” she asked with a wry smile.
Hope rekindled, he took a risk. “I want to touch that lovely neck of yours, but choking would be the last thing on my mind.”
Her smile fled. “You simply want me to believe you are attracted to me so I’ll give in to your request. You must realize how hard it would be to let Orion go. I know your home isn’t at the other end of the country, but…”
She stopped abruptly when he took hold of her hands and said, “Then come to live at Clifton Heights.”
Pleasure
It was aswell Griff had hold of her hands else Susan might have slapped him soundly, or swooned, overcome by the same shock she saw in his eyes. “That’s a highly improper suggestion,” she managed from her dry throat, though she loved Clifton Heights and would be happy to make her home there, if…
“Not if you agree to be my wife,” he said.
Dumbfounded, Susan stared at him. There was sincerity in his voice and no hint of mockery in his gaze. But this was Griffith Halliwell proposing marriage, a rogue well-known for his rakehell lifestyle. She had always based decisions on logic and none of this made sense. “You must really want my horse,” she said, immediately regretting the insult when disappointment darkened his eyes.
“This has nothing to do with Orion,” he growled. “Even if you deny me the animal, I still want you. Perhaps it’s the prospect of marriage to me that has upset you.”
Her heart in knots, she sought the security of the settee. “No,” she confessed as she sat. “I’m drawn to you—in every way.”