The desire in him bled out so quickly that it shook Grif, and he sat up. Anna blinked up at him, obviously confused, ignorant of the power of her words.
He angrily shoved away from her—the magic of the moment, the depth of his feeling for her shattered into tiny shards by the mention of marriage to another man.
Stunned by his push, Anna fell against the lattice.
“Ye want me to love ye while ye plot to wed yerself to another man?” he demanded acidly. “God in heaven, but I canna abide the way ye use me!”
“Use you?” she cried. “I haven’t used you—we had a bargain!”
“We didna have a bargain! Will ye no’ admit it? Ye’ve made me a hostage!”
“That’s a lie!” she cried, and angrily adjusted the bodice of her gown as she sat up. “You didn’t have a choice? I didn’t have a choice! I didn’t know what else to do! I don’t know what to do even now,” she cried.
Grif moved forward and cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “Forget this folly, Anna! Forget Lockhart!” he blurted.
Anna gasped softly and reared back, her eyes belying her disbelief. She shakily dragged the back of her hand across her mouth. “What are you saying? You know I can’t do that,” she said quietly.
“Why no’?” he demanded furiously. “Ye’ve no’ agreed to anything—”
“And do what, pray tell? Run off to Scotland with a liar and a thief?” she angrily exclaimed.
Something twisted violently inside him; a shot of pain sliced his chest. He sat back, pushed both hands through his hair. “Bloody hell, then.”
“Grif…I didn’t mean that—”
“Congratulations, Anna. Ye’ve all but succeeded in yer quest—”
“Grif!” she cried, moving toward him, but Grif instantly stood up and put up his hand to stop her.
“No, Anna. Ye have what ye wanted—but I’ll no’ pleasure ye like a whore,” he said sharply, ignoring her indignant gasp. “I’ve done me part of it. Now it is time for ye to do yer part and give me the goddamn beastie! I only hope to God ye finish this business sooner rather than later, before it is too late for us both,” he said, and turned away, striding away from her and crossing the chasm that had opened between them and spread as long and as wide as an ocean.
Twenty-four
G rif wanted to be as far away from the Addison sisters as he could reasonably get, for he could not bear to be near Anna without exploding in fury, and he could not, on his honor, make any more conversation with Lucy. If he was forced to spend another moment in her presence, he thought he might be driven to madness.
He retired at a time that was unfashionably early, but his charade was wearing very thin, and the evening had been irreparably marred. He fell into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of Anna.
The next morning, he rose early. Fynster, who had come in quite late, was still snoring peacefully across the room. Grif donned a dressing gown and rang for Hugh. And rang again. And twice more.
Were it not for the kindness of Fynster’s valet— Gregerson, he thought he said his name was—Grif would have appeared to all in his nightshirt. Gregerson managed to find Hugh and rouse him from his slumber, and was even able to find Grif’s clothes when Hugh was unable to rise.
“He’s got a bit of the ague, I should think, sir,” Gregerson politely explained.
“He’s a fondness for drink,” Grif said roughly as the man handed him the clothes. He thanked Gregerson, and once he was dressed, he skipped what breakfast might have been left, and made his way up to the third floor, where the servants were housed.
He found Hugh easily enough—he was the only scoundrel still abed, a pillow covering his head, a sheet scarcely covering his body. With a well-placed boot, Grif brought him up, sputtering and squealing like a stuck pig. “Ye’ll behave yerself, MacAlister, or ye’ll return to Scotland without yer fool head.”
“Aye, aye,” Hugh said wearily, waving him on.
Luncheon was a quiet and boring affair—most of the ladies refused it, since they had breakfasted so late, and most of the gentlemen had breakfasted early so that they might have a ride about the manor grounds and into the village. Grif sat with an elderly gentleman from a neighboring estate who wanted to talk about sheep, of all things, while Grif brooded about Anna.