‘Obviously I know now.’ Griffin turned to scowl his impatience at Christian as the other man restlessly paced the length of the library and back.
Griffin sat beside Bea on the chaise, where he had placed her tenderly just minutes before, and now held one of her limp hands in his.
The other man frowned. ‘I thought we had agreed last night that we would not tell Bea anything until after Maystone’s arrival?’
‘You agreed that with Maystone, not I,’ Griffin growled. ‘And in making that agreement the two of you seem to have forgotten that Bea is a person not an object, and that she at least had the right to know who she is.’
Christian ceased his pacing before slowly nodding. ‘I apologise.’ He grimaced. ‘You are right, of course.’
Griffin raised surprised brows. ‘I am?’
‘Do not look so shocked, Griff, you are sometimes right, you know.’ Christian smiled ruefully. ‘I freely admit I was wrong to agree otherwise, no matter what Maystone’s directive.’
‘You have had a drastic change of mind since yesterday?’ Griffin eyed him suspiciously.
Christian turned away. ‘I discovered, while walking in the garden with Bea earlier today, that she is a lady about whom it is easy to feel...concern.’
Griffin scowled darkly at his friend’s obvious admiration for Bea.
An admiration Griffin shared but now found himself resenting. Deeply. ‘Is that the reason you chose to confide in her as to the nature of our association with Maystone?’
Sutherland looked uncomfortable. ‘As I said, she is one in whom it is easy to...feel empathy.’
Griffin stiffened. ‘Indeed?’
‘Oh, not in that way, Griff,’ Christian snapped his impatience. ‘She is just so vulnerable, and so very alone. Damn it, Griff, you were the one making love to Bea when I arrived late last night, not I!’ He scowled his exasperation with Griffin’s scowl. ‘And do you really know me so little that you believe me to be capable of ever attempting to usurp one of my closest friends in the play for a lady’s affections?’
‘I am not making a play for Bea’s affections.’
‘Perhaps that is because you do not need to do so!’ the other man bit out tersely.
‘You misunderstand the situation, Christian.’ Griffin gave a shake of his head. ‘Bea is grateful to me for my part in her rescue; that is all.’
Christian now eyed him pityingly. ‘You are a fool if you believe that to be all it is.’
His eyes glittered in warning. ‘I am not having this conversation, Christian.’
‘Why on earth not? Griffin,’ he continued in a reasoning tone, ‘it is wrong of you to allow the events of the past to dictate how you behave now.’
‘It is none of your affair, Christian.’
The other man continued to eye him in exasperation for several moments more before nodding abruptly and changing the subject. ‘Do you think it possible that revealing Bea’s name to her may have triggered a return of her memories?’
‘Why?’ Griffin looked at his friend through narrowed lids. ‘What is it that she knows, Christian, that is of such importance Maystone sent you here almost immediately he received my letter? Why does he need to come here himself?’
Christian straightened. ‘I have allowed that Maystone and I were wrong in deciding to keep Bea’s identity from her until he arrives, but I will not concede any further than that. Please try to understand, Griff,’ he added persuasively. ‘I assure you Maystone is not being difficult, but he has his own reasons for remaining cautious. Reasons I cannot as yet confide.’
‘I believe I might perhaps shed at least a little light on the matter,’ Bea spoke softly as she opened her eyes and attempted to sit up on the chaise. A move hampered somewhat by the fact that one of her hands was being held firmly clasped in both of Griffin’s. She avoided meeting his concerned gaze as she carefully but determinedly released her hand before sitting up and looking up at Christian Seaton.
‘Lord Maystone mistakenly believes, as did my kidnappers, that I have information detrimental to their plans. Is that not so, Your Grace?’
Most, but not all, of Bea’s memories had painfully returned to her the moment Griffin had revealed her full name. Along with the raw pain of losing the parents she had loved so dearly, both of whom had been killed during a winter storm when a tree had fallen onto and crushed their carriage with them both inside.
One memory she was profoundly grateful to have returned to her, however: neither Jacob Harker nor his accomplice had violated her. He had been an unpleasant man, and cruel in his care of her, but he had not physically harmed her in any way. Even the beatings had all been carried out by his accomplice, who had upbraided her jailer that day and so allowed Bea to overhear that his name was Jacob.
‘Mistakenly?’ Christian repeated slowly.
‘Yes. Might I have a glass of water or—or perhaps some brandy, do you think?’ Bea requested faintly as she lay her head back on the chaise, her mind once again swirling as some of the memories still danced elusively out of her reach.