Page 70 of This Marquess of Mine

Chapter Twenty-One

Ten minutes later, Olivia stood outside Griffin’s study, her heart racing as she stared at the closed door in front of her. Oh, God. She wasn’t sure she could go through with it.

She licked her lips and tried to swallow past the knot in her very dry throat, her thoughts a tangle of worries and fears and flagging courage. Was she really going to do this? Was she really about to walk through that door and ask the man inside if he would like to marry her?

She must have lost her mind. Only a simpleton would do what she was about to do.

Emmy was right, though. She would regret it if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t know, once and for all. She had to do this. Even if the likelihood of a good outcome was abysmally low.

Raising her knuckles to the door, she rapped them lightly on the hard wood and waited, her heart knocking against her ribcage like a thing possessed.

The soft snick of the latch punctuated the cloying silence, and time seemed to slow as the door swung open on silent hinges.

She looked up, and there was Griffin, staring at her from the open doorway.

“Olivia?” Surprise sparked in his eyes. “What are you—shouldn’t you be with the other guests?”

Somehow she managed a smile even as her legs itched to carry her far, far away.

Only minutes ago, this had all made sense, but now, standing before him in the darkened corridor, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

That he was so tall and broad, so imposing, did not help matters in the slightest.

“Yes, I should, but—” She swallowed, and smoothed trembling hands down the front of her dress. “May I…speak with you for a moment?”

His brows rose at the unusual request, but he stepped back without protest, clearing the way for her. “Of course. Come in.”

Heart pounding and fingers fidgeting, Olivia stepped into his study, and turned to watch him as he closed the door, shutting them inside.

No turning back now.

She swallowed.

“Please, have a seat,” Griffin said, gesturing to his desk.

He’d removed his coat and cravat and wore only a green silk waistcoat over a white linen shirt and black trousers. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and as she sat, she tried not to stare at his bare forearms.

Clearing her throat, she glanced around the room, stalling for time as she took in the blazing fire, the mahogany furnishings and leather-bound books, as if this was the first time she’d been here, though, of course, she’d seen the room dozens of times. At least it gave her something to do while she tried to think of what on earth she meant to say to the man sitting across from her.

“Olivia?”

Griffin’s voice drew her gaze to his.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked with a teasing half-smile. “Perhaps I should be sitting in your seat instead.”

She smiled weakly and shook her head. “You’re not in trouble.” But I certainly am.

“Are you unwell?” he asked, his smile fading. He leaned forward on his forearms, his eyes flicking over her face, both curious and concerned.

“No, no. I am perfectly well, I assure you.” She cleared her throat again. “I am here because I…because…” She ran her tongue over the crooked line of her teeth as her gaze dropped to her lap.

How in heaven’s name did people do this? How did anyone muster up the courage to lay their heart bare before another human being?

She’d never thought about it before now, how harrowing it was to confess one’s feelings to another, uncertain of their reaction, completely at their mercy. She’d never felt more vulnerable.

“What is it, Olivia?”

She could hear the alarm in his voice and when she looked at him, the patience in his steady gaze made her heart squeeze. He thought she was in trouble. He was prepared to help her in any way he could because he was an honorable man, and she was his sister’s dearest friend.