Page 58 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

Felicity didn’t hate it. Not at all.

Instead, she’d felt just a tiny bit…cherished.

She’d kept her eyes closed and her breathing even, and tried not to remember the way he’d looked when he’d spoken of his first wife’s death.

Had he loved her? Did he still dream of her? Did he pretend Felicity was her, even now?

It was likely foolish to think of such things, but she’d never been one to back down from a challenge. She wanted to know. She wanted to know him.

He was a mystery, and she’d never been able to resist experimentation until she understood the unknown.

A few days ago, she’d asked him outright to teach her about pleasure. Now, she wanted more. She wanted to know him.

But the pleasure thing would be a good place to start, really.

Griffin shifted, and when he stretched and crossed his feet at the ankles, his booted feet brushed against the skirts of her travel gown. He didn’t seem to notice, but the simple touch set her heart hammering in her chest.

He lounged there on the padded bench, the gentle sway of the train car not seeming to affect him in the least. Occasionally he’d frown, or his nostrils would flare, or he’d blink slowly…all signs of deep cognition.

She wanted to know how he thought.

She wanted to know how he tasted.

Oh good Heavens, you are beginning to repeat yourself.

They were stuck together for the next few weeks, and would have to work together to search for the information they needed. They should begin now, so she understood her role by the time they arrived.

So Felicity cleared her throat. “Made? The last time I walked past, Bull and Mrs. Mac were engaged in a lively card game in the compartment next to us.”

The little women managed to bob a curtsey while seated. “Yes, miss. And young Master Rupert had joined in, as had Mr. Armstrong.”

Which meant Marcia was likely bored and ready for some mischief. “Would you be kind as to sit with Marcia for me?” Felicity asked, her attention on Griffin, who now watched her impassively. “If she wants to participate in the game, feel free to join in as well.”

Made packed up her sewing, a small smile on her lips. “Absolutely.” Another bob, on her way out the door. “I’ll take my time, miss.”

“Excellent,” murmured Felicity as the door shut behind the maid.

Griffin lifted a brow. “So eager to be alone with me?”

“Yes. I want to know what the plan is.”

“The plan is to fool Peasgoode into thinking we’re a family. You and the children charm him, while I poke around.” He shifted again, and the movement caused the muscles of his chest to strain against the material of his jacket.

“We would be far more successful if we all poked around.”

“Absolutely no’,” he growled. “I’ll no’ put ye in danger.”

“Poking about is hardly danger.”

“Ye’d be surprised.”

This wasn’t going as she’d hoped. Sighing, Felicity stood, turned, and ended up sitting beside him, a respectable two feet between them. But still, his expression had turned disbelieving as he dropped his arms and twisted so he could keep her in his sights.

“Griffin, I should tell you that Bull already knows our real reason for going to Peasgoode. I do not know how he found out—either listening at the door, I assume, or charming it out of Thorne. It would not be the first time…for either scenario.”

“Has he told Marcia?”

She winced at his bark. And yes, it was a bark, a question from a worried father.

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