Because he desired to make love to her but did not love her.
As Bea was so afraid she might have fallen in love with him.
And she was afraid, deeply so, that an unreciprocated love could only lead to heartbreak.
Her own heartbreak.
‘I am sure Griffin is more than capable of putting forward his own defence if necessary, Your Grace,’ she came back waspishly.
‘But he will not.’
Bea glanced up at the handsome gentleman at her side. ‘Why do you say that?’
He sighed. ‘Because Griffin does not believe himself to be deserving of anyone’s affection.’
Bea removed her hand from his arm as she turned fully to face him. ‘I beg your pardon?’
Sutherland grimaced. ‘Griffin and I have known each other for a long time, you understand. We were at school together.’
‘I did not know that.’
He nodded. ‘I do not believe I am being indiscreet by revealing that Griffin was placed in the school by his father when he was only eight years old. He was not a cruel man, merely elderly, and had been widowed since Griffin’s birth. He did not, I believe, know quite what to do with his young son and heir, other than to place him in the competent hands of first a wet-nurse, then a nanny, and, finally, school.’
‘But how lonely that must have been for Griffin!’ Bea frowned at the thought of that lonely little boy, motherless, and sent away from the company of his father at such a tender age.
‘Just so.’ Seaton grimaced. ‘We others did not join him until four years later. There were five of us altogether, all heir to the title of Duke. We were, and still are, a close-knit bunch. We became our own family, I believe, and have always looked out for each other,’ he added enigmatically.
Bea’s interest quickened. ‘Then you also knew his wife?’
‘I did, yes.’ Seaton’s expression became blandly unrevealing.
She nodded. ‘Griffin loved her very much.’ And no wonder, if he had led such a lonely childhood as Seaton had described. Griffin must have been so gratified to have someone of his own at last. Someone to love and want him.
Blond brows rose. ‘Did he tell you that?’
‘Well, no.’ Bea frowned. ‘But surely it is obvious?’
‘How so?’
She shrugged. ‘I understand it has been six years since his wife’s death, and he has not remarried in that time.’
‘Perhaps that is because one marriage was enough?’ the Duke drawled.
Bea gazed at him speculatively. ‘But surely it was a happy marriage?’
‘I believe that is something you must ask Griffin, not me.’
‘He refuses to talk to me of his marriage or his wife.’
‘And I will not speak of it, either.’ Sutherland grimaced. ‘My only reason for discussing Griffin with you at all is in an effort to persuade you not to think too harshly of him for his silence about you. We have been, all five of the Dangerous Dukes, bound in our actions these past five years by a higher authority,’ he added softly.
Other than God—and Bea did not believe Griffin or Christian Seaton to be overly religious men—what higher authority could there possibly be than a duke of the realm? Oh.
Bea looked sharply up at Seaton a
s she searched his handsome face for some indication that her surmise was correct. His expression, as he steadily returned her gaze, remained infuriatingly bland.
And yet the idea persisted that Griffin and his four closest friends had all—perhaps still?—worked in some way for the Crown.