Never Love a Lord by Heather Grothaus Read Free Book Online

trust your first night at Fallstowe was enjoyable? How did you find your chamber?”
    His lips quirked slightly. “In truth, I—”
    Suddenly, Graves spoke from behind her chair. “Where is that boy?” he muttered. Sybilla turned her head to catch him disappearing through the doorway which led to the kitchens.
    She turned back to see Julian Griffin also regarding Graves’s hasty departure. The expression on his face was shrewd, thoughtful. But he shook it off and looked at Sybilla once more.
    “Everything was as I expected it to be. Thank you,” he said, with a nod of his head.
    Lucy Griffin had apparently grown weary of their talk, as she chose that moment to voice her displeasure at her father’s lack of attention. Murrin stepped to the lord’s side, her arms held open.
    Julian kissed the child more times than were necessary, in Sybilla’s opinion, and then handed her over to the nurse. “Sweet dreams, my precious,” he said, his hands trailing away from the baby as if loath to release her. “Papa shall come for you straightaway at noon.”
    Murrin made the silly motion of lifting the baby’s hand to wave at her father, before giving Sybilla a quick curtsy and departing from the hall. Sybilla wanted to roll her eyes—it was simply nauseatingly sweet.
    Julian turned his attention back to the leather packet still lying on the table. He reached for it and then used it to gesture toward Sybilla.
    “Shall we begin the interview?”
    Sybilla’s eye narrowed. “What’s that?”
    Julian glanced down at the thick, ledger-like bundle, and then back at her. “Your life, Lady Sybilla.”
    She chuckled, disbelieving. “My life, you say?” She set her cup back down on the table. The tea was ice-cold now, although the handle had grown warm from her gripping fingers, which she placed on her lap beneath the tabletop, out of sight. “I daresay my life comprises more than a hand’s-breadth of pages.”
    “My penmanship is quite fine,” Julian countered. “I needed to keep my findings compact for transport.”
    “All the way from London?” Sybilla said snidely.
    “No.” Julian’s eyes found hers. “All the way from France,” he corrected her quietly.
    She held his gaze, but in her chest, Sybilla’s heart beat madly.
    “I only returned the month before Lucy was born.” He tucked the ledger under his arm. “Would you have us commence here in the hall, my lady?”
    “No,” Sybilla said, trying to keep the frown from her face, but she knew she had failed. She stood. “Let us retire to my solar, where we will not be disturbed.” Sybilla turned to walk from the dais.
    “Or overheard?” Julian offered from behind her.
    Sybilla’s steps did not pause. “That is correct, Lord Griffin. Although I am certain you and our king see my defeat as inevitable, I still have interests that I would protect from gossip.”
    “Your sisters, you mean.” His voice sounded directly behind her, although she had not heard his quickening footfalls or thought them to have gained on her so readily. She added stealthy to her mental list of Julian Griffin’s attributes.
    “Yes,” she said curtly. She glanced at him and found that he was studying her again, so she looked away.
    “You cannot protect them forever, Sybilla,” he said, and the genuine concern she heard in his voice caused her to glance at him once more. “From gossip, or perhaps more devastating, the truth. They will know eventually.”
    Sybilla laid her hand on the latch of the solar door, but instead of pushing it open she turned to face Julian Griffin, her hands anchored behind her back. Her heart was pounding. “And what exactly will they know eventually, Lord Griffin? That the king does not take loyalty to heart? That he would steal the home my mother held for him? That he would slander her? This they already know, I can assure you.”
    Julian Griffin was only a pace away from her, and he closed that distance with a single slow step, stopping to look down