Page 61 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

“I’m sorry, Ian, my wife and I were a bit overcome.”

The older man’s chuckle seemed forced, and his gaze was locked on the luggage racks over their heads. “No, no, it is I who should apologize. I just wanted to mention we’re approaching Carlisle, and ask if you’d mind if I took the children for a brief tour of the station.”

Leave the children alone with a man who might be in cahoots with Blackrose? Suddenly, the warm feeling of contentment which had filled her moments ago dissipated. Felicity exchanged glances with Griffin.

“I think, Ian,” she offered as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “that some fresh air would do us all good. My husband and I will accompany you.”

And this train journey couldn’t be over fast enough. Late tonight, they’d be at Peasgoode, and their own chambers.

With a bed.

And a man who had promised her all sorts of pleasures.

Chapter 11

The farther north they traveled, the more…familiar the landscape became.

Griffin hadn’t been back to the Highlands for almost two decades, but even from inside the train compartment, he could smell the difference in the air, see it in the way the trees moved.

He was home.

And it was fooking disturbing.

His children had never lived in the Highlands; he’d left after he’d married Mary. How could he consider this home?

After that incredible, ridiculous, completely ill-advised kiss, after Carlisle, Rupert and Marcia had sat in the compartment with Griffin and Felicity. He’d been glad for it. It meant he’d be able to keep his hands off the redhead who continued watching him with that curious, academic way.

As if she wasn’t quite certain of him.

As if she wanted to figure him out.

Keep wondering, sweetheart.

She was a danger to this mission, a distraction.

Aye, but she had a good point. If ye want to appear a happily married couple, fooking her regularly will seal the illusion.

But Griffin had the uneasy feeling that whatever he’d be doing with Felicity, it wouldn’t be fooking.

“Oooh, Papa, look at that mountain! I think, if I was standing atop there, I could touch the sky!”

Griffin’s eyes followed his daughter’s pointing finger, and grunted in agreement. “That’s Ben Nevis, the highest point in Britain. It means we’re almost there.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Felicity agreed. “The sun is setting.”

The meal options on the train were simple, but Griffin’s family was used to simple. He’d been surprised how readily Felicity—a lady—had taken to the straightforward fare. And now Rupert’s eyes were drooping.

Hell, they were likely all tired.

“When we get there, Father, will we have to be polite to the duke?” his son asked, before being interrupted by a yawn.

“I dinnae ken,” he answered truthfully. “I hope no’.”

When he caught Felicity’s gaze, he saw—was that excitement? She was excited about the arrival at Peasgoode?

Och, ye dobber, she’s excited about what ye promised her would happen when she arrived in Peasgoode.

Tonight, they’d be sharing a bed.

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