Free Carnal Pleasures by Blaise Kilgallen Page B

hallway earlier. They might be skittish with Simon around.”
    “Simon is used to cats. Our stables at home are inhabited by a number of good mousers. He won’t bother the Countess’s pets. He will mostly likely ignore them. You’ll see.” Dulcie smiled up at Griff again.
    “I wonder if the cats will enjoy their introduction to a new experience.” He winked at Dulcie, knowing she had no idea to what he referred.
    Griff’s skin suddenly prickled with renewed interest and anticipation. He was looking forward to their upcoming intimacy. His thoughts warmed now that he had opportunity to get to know her a little better.
    “Well then,” Griff continued, with more questions this time. “I get the feeling that…er…my aunt frightens you with her scolds. Is that so?”
    “No, of course not, but I would rather not stir the stew pot, you see. She has already reminded me of what I must do, and since I am here, at her invitation, I must do what my stepmother asks.”
    “Oh? I daresay. I plan to do some shopping myself, so I shall relegate my army uniforms to the rag bag.”
    “You are no longer in the King’s service?” she asked.
    “No. I sold out.”
    He lied. Another falsehood added to the list crowding his guilty conscience.
    “Oh, I see. Well then, shall you be staying in London?”
    “Yes, for the time being.”
    Again, Griff switched subjects. “If you are going shopping, it is impolite of me to keep you talking here with me.”
    “I’m not allowed to leave the house, Mr. Spencer. You heard what the countess said last evening. So, I’m not going out, but I understand my stepmother will be away for several hours.”
    “Under house arrest, are you?” His grin was mischievous.
    “No, but it almost seems that way.” She grinned back at him. “I’m told the countess arranged for a modiste to come here until she says I may go traipsing about London on my own.” Dulcie shook her head. “I hate being cooped up like a chicken in the hen house. I am used to being outside in the fresh air and sunshine, and…”
    “Well,” Griff interrupted. “I shall make it a point to keep you company if you must stay in. After all, London is often quite dismal and rainy, and the atmosphere can be clouded by unhealthy coal smoke.”
    Dulcie said nothing, just stared up at his chin.
    Aware of her gaze, Griff rubbed a hand across it, unsure if he advertently forgot to wipe a bit of breakfast off of his face.
    Shifting into another question, he asked, “May I call you Dulcina? After all, we are almost relatives.” One of his golden eyebrows arched as if waiting for a positive reply. “By the way, my given name is Griffith, but Griff is what my friends call me.”
    “Oh,” Dulcie said, her lips pursed into a cupid’s bow. “Well, yes, thank you. Then I suppose you may call me Dulcie. That is what my friends call me .”
    Griff inhaled. We’ve got that settled. Now I can get down to business.
     

Chapter Eight
    Agina sent a footman to tell Dulcie to present herself in the small drawing room on the lower floor. The countess was pacing when Dulcie arrived.
    “I will be away most of the day,” the countess said, looking at the small, jeweled watch pinned to her bosom. She had made an appointment at the office of the earl’s former solicitor, scheduled a luncheon engagement later, and followed it with a visit to a friend’s pianoforte recital and tea. Agina now halted her pacing and perused the girl’s gown once again, her eyes sharp and penetrating. The countess shook her head.
    Agina did not want Dulcie’s rich inheritance bruited about Town simply by dressing her in lavish gowns to enhance her appeal to other unattached suitors, since she planned to throw Dulcie and Griff together . However, just looking at the girl’s ugly gowns constantly offended Agina’s vision and might have the same effect on Spencer.
    “I told you a modiste I engaged will be here later today. I’m sure you know nothing about fashion,