Page 38 of This Marquess of Mine

Chapter Thirteen

Griff rolled onto his back on the mattress and slung an arm over his eyes, his frustrated sigh rumbling through the quiet of his bedchamber.

Sleep eluded him.

The events of the evening tossed and turned in his head, his sister’s news, his dance with Olivia, the look on her face, so small and pale, as she learned of that coward Paxton’s betrothal.

His betrayal.

Anger stabbed at him. He’d held very little respect for the Duke of Paxton before tonight, but now, after seeing the hurt he’d wrought, he wanted nothing more than to watch the man pay for his cowardice.

And that surprised him.

The intensity of his reaction surprised him. He shouldn’t care this much. She was his sister’s friend, yes, and someone he’d known for years, so it stood to reason he would feel at least some concern for her well-being.

But to want to exact revenge on her behalf? Or do bodily harm to the man responsible for hurting her? He could not explain that. It wasn’t like him at all.

He blew out another sigh and scrubbed his hand down his face.

“Meow.”

Artemis climbed onto his chest and sat, peering down at him with sleepy yellow eyes.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he said, giving the kitten’s chin a scratch. “Is my tossing and turning disturbing your slumber?”

Her answer was a swift chomp on the tip of his index finger.

He laughed through his wince and tugged free of her nettles for teeth. “I suppose that can only mean one thing,” he said, inspecting his chewed finger. “You must be hungry.”

“Meow.”

He nodded. “So am I. How about I see if I can scrounge up something for us to eat, hm?”

Transferring Artemis to the dark blue counterpane, he climbed out of bed and lit a candle on his chest of drawers. He crossed to the armchair where he’d discarded his evening clothes and tugged on the black shirt and trousers before donning his house slippers.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said to Artemis on his way to the door.

She plopped her rump on the bed and began washing her face, as if preparing for the meal ahead.

Chuckling softly to himself, Griff stepped into the hall with his lone candlestick and shut the door behind him before heading up the dark corridor toward the stairs.

He wasn’t sure what he would find in the kitchens at this hour, but he would be happy with a crust of bread and a small wedge of cheese. Artemis liked cheese.

As he neared the stairs, his gaze caught on a faint sliver of light peeking through the cracked door of the drawing room. He frowned. Had Sally left a fire burning in the hearth?

He nudged the door open with his knuckles and peered inside.

The hearth was cold, but a candelabra sat perched on the mantel with all five candles lit. He flicked his gaze over the room, searching the chairs, the shadowed spaces, until finally he spotted her, a lone figure tucked away in the corner.

Olivia.

Of course it was Olivia.

She sat cross-legged on the sofa, her face in profile, and she looked pensive, her gaze fixed on the window beside her. She wore a white nightrail and a knitted shawl wrapped snugly around her shoulders. Her hair was down, glinting like gold beneath the soft candlelight.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked from the doorway.

She turned and her mouth hitched up at one side, as if she was pleased to see him but didn’t want to be.