Or try to, at least.
Chapter Seven
‘Good to see you again, Rotherham!’ The older and much shorter man rose at Griffin’s entrance, his round face flushed, his riding jacket dark brown, the gaudily checked waistcoat beneath stretched to its limits over the portliness of his stomach, his brown Hessians dusty from his ride over to Stonehurst Park. ‘You don’t come to Stonehurst nearly enough!’
‘Sir Walter.’ Griffin nodded his cool acknowledgement of the other man. ‘May I offer you some refreshment?’ He chose to ignore Latham’s comment regarding the frequency of his visits here; since Felicity died Griffin only came to Stonehurst perhaps once or twice a year, the memories of that disastrous marriage far too oppressive and immediate here, the place where Felicity had died.
‘Thank you, but no.’
‘Your visit into Yorkshire was successful, I hope?’ He lowered his bulk down into one of the armchairs.
‘Oh, my, yes.’ The older man grinned as he resumed his seat opposite. ‘I managed to buy myself a beautiful grey hunter.’ He nodded his satisfaction.
Griffin nodded. ‘Your butler informed me that Lady Francesca is away from home at the moment?’
‘She was in London for part of the Season, acting as chaperone to my young niece. The two of them are presently making their way to Lancashire via several house parties.’ The older man grimaced. ‘I cannot abide London, or house parties, but for some reason Francesca enjoys all that social nonsense.’
Griffin smiled in sympathy; he too hated all that social nonsense, but had been forced to attend a certain amount of those functions when he was Felicity’s husband. ‘I am sure you will be pleased to have her and your niece returned to you.’
‘Without a doubt,’ Sir Walter agreed jovially. ‘A house needs a woman’s presence in it to feel anything like a home— Ah, but I apologise, Rotherham.’ He frowned his consternation. ‘That was in particularly bad taste, even for me.’
‘Not at all,’ Griffin dismissed dryly, having become accustomed to Sir Walter’s bluntness over the years.
Besides which, Felicity’s presence in any of his ducal homes had always made them feel less like a home to Griffin, and towards the end of their marriage that had been reason enough for him to wish to vacate those houses rather than suffer being in her frosty company a moment longer than was necessary.
A feeling in direct contrast to these past few days of ease he had shared living with Bea.
Damn it, he did not live with Bea, she was merely a guest in his home until such time as he could reunite her with her family.
And her lover.
‘Although there is a rumour about the village that you have brought a young lady here with you this time?’ Sir Walter eyed him curiously.
Griffin had known that he could not keep Bea’s presence here a secret for long, despite his previous threats to his household staff regarding gossip.
The rarity of Griffin’s visits to Stonehurst was a cause for gossip in itself, and the village of Stonehurst was simply too parochial for it to escape the notice of the locals that a young lady had accompanied the Duke of Rotherham to Stonehurst Park. There was no doubt much speculation as to her identity.
‘I believe you are referring to my goddaughter.’ He nodded haughtily. ‘Her parents have both recently died, and I have now taken guardianship of her.’ Griffin felt no hesitation in enlarging upon the lie he had already perpetrated regarding the reason for Bea’s presence here.
‘She is but a child, then?’
‘Not quite,’ Griffin dismissed, having no idea of Bea’s precise age, although he did not believe she could be any older than twenty.
The older man’s eyes lit up with interest. ‘Then no doubt Lady Francesca, once returned, will wish to invite you both over to dinner one evening while you are here, so that my niece and your goddaughter might become acquainted?’
‘That will not be possible, I am afraid,’ he refused smoothly. ‘My goddaughter is still in mourning.’
‘But surely a private dinner party is permissible?’
‘I am afraid not. Bea’s emotions are still too delicate at present for us to give or receive social invitations. Another time, perhaps,’ he dismissed briskly as he stood up and rang for Pelham in conclusion of the conversation.
‘Of course.’ Sir Walter rose to his feet as he took the hint it was time for him to leave. ‘It really is good to see you back at Stonehurst Park again, Rotherham,’ he added sincerely.
‘Thank you.’ Griffin nodded.
‘You must at least ride over and see my new hunter when you have the time.’
‘Perhaps,’ Griffin replied noncommittally.