Add his mother’s disillusionment to his sins.
He glanced around and realized they were in a public place. One of his neighbors was peering at them avidly from behind her curtains.
Griffin took Mater’s arm. “Come inside, dearest.”
She looked up at him uncertainly, and in the morning sunshine, the lines about her eyes were clear. “Griffin?”
“Come inside,” he repeated.
He led her into his library and realized his mistake immediately when he glanced to the spot beside the settee where he’d made love to Hero. He swore under his breath, but where else was he to put her? Half the rooms were in sheets because he didn’t bother using them.
“What is it?” she asked, touching his arm worriedly.
“It’s nothing,” he said, and strode to the door to bellow for a servant. A full minute elapsed before a blowsy maid scurried into view. “Bring some hot tea and cakes.”
She curtsied. “ ’Aven’t any cakes, m’lord.”
Griffin grimaced. “Bread, then, or whatever else Cook can find.”
He closed the door and turned back to the room, running his hands over his head. He wasn’t wearing a wig, hadn’t shaved in days, and his house and staff were wretched. Well, the last hardly mattered anymore. Once he’d dealt with the Vicar, he’d let the lease lapse and remove himself and Deedle to the north. Deedle hated it there, but Griffin would be damned if he’d stay in the same city as Thomas and Hero.
“Griffin?” Mater said softly.
Damn it. Mater had never cared to rusticate. He’d be leaving her behind as well. Unless she decided to take up residence in a city nearer the Mandeville estate. But that still wasn’t London.
Nothing was the same as London.
“Griffin!” His mother crossed the room and took his hands. “You must tell me what you’re thinking.”
He smiled wearily. “It’s not so very dramatic as all that, Mater. I’m making plans to leave London.”
“But why?”
He closed his eyes. “I can’t live here with Thomas and her.”
“Lady Hero, you mean.” She half laughed, and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him in exasperation. “Are we not to speak her name now?”
“That would be rather hard for Thomas,” he said wryly.
She blinked. “He’s not…”
He nodded. “They will be married Sunday.”
He dropped her hands and crossed to pour himself a healthy glassful of brandy.
“But I thought…”
“That I’d marry her?” he asked, his back still turned to her. “Apparently not.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter? Anyway, Thomas will have his revenge for my seduction of Anne.”
“Don’t be silly.” She made a dismissive sound. “I never believed you’d seduced Anne.”
He turned, vaguely surprised—and rather grateful. “No? Everyone else did.”
“I’m your mother, Griffin.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him with exasperation. “Do give me some credit.”
“Oh, Mater, I love you so.” He smiled wryly and drank some brandy, wincing slightly as it burned his gullet.
“No one believes that old gossip anymore.”
“Thomas does.”
She stared. “What?”
He nodded and drank some more brandy. The second sip was smoother. Perhaps he’d become a sot.
“But that can’t be!”
“Said so himself,” he assured her. “Got it from Anne’s own lips as she lay dying.”
“That girl always was a ninny, God rest her soul,” Mater muttered. “Did you tell him point-blank that you didn’t do it?”
“Yes, and he point-blank did not believe me, perhaps because of my recent actions with Lady Hero.”
“That’s an entirely different matter,” Mater said.
“Is it?” he asked. “To Thomas I doubt it is.”
“Anne was his wife. Lady Hero is only affianced to him. Besides…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
Griffin narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Besides what?”
She waved an irritable hand. “It’s not my secret to divulge.”
“Mater.”
“Don’t growl at me.” She locked gazes with him for a moment, then looked away. “He can be so foolish sometimes.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s none of your business, Griffin.”
“If it involves Hero, it is. I love her.”
Her face softened immediately. “Oh, do you?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” he said. “Now tell me.”
“It’s just that Thomas took up with a rather risqué lady last season, a Mrs. Tate. He tried to hide it from me, of course, but I saw nonetheless. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her when he’d see her at a ball or some other such place.”
“Thomas has a mistress? Damn it, I knew it! He was following her at Harte’s Folly.”
“Rather more than a mistress I think, although perhaps he doesn’t know it himself,” she said somewhat obscurely.
Griffin’s anger was building. How dare Thomas marry Hero already encumbered by a mistress? “Has he broken it off?”
“That’s just it,” Mater replied. “I thought he had when he proposed to Lady Hero, but now I think he’s seeing Mrs. Tate again.”
“To punish Hero,” Griffin growled.
“No, I don’t think so. I think he’s formed a tendre for the woman.” Mater shook her head sadly. “I love Thomas dearly—he is my firstborn son—but he can be so very boneheaded. He should let Lady Hero go.”
“Ah.” Griffin tossed back the rest of the brandy. “But I’m afraid that doesn’t matter to me in any case.”
“What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t love me.” He tried to smile and failed. “She won’t marry me.”
“Humph.” Mater frowned ferociously. “She might say she doesn’t want to marry you, but I don’t for a moment believe she doesn’t love you. A woman like Lady Hero does not let a man into her bed out of the bonds of wedlock unless she’s fallen head over heels for him.”
He looked down at his glass, unable to meet her gaze. He suddenly found it hard to speak. “She’s hiding it well if she does love me.”