Page 84 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

“I would never hurt Marcia or Rupert. Neither would Flick.”

Griffin’s nod was slow. “Aye, lad. It’s taken me a while, but I believe that.”

At one point, he’d assumed the flashy boy next door was trying to impress, seduce his innocent daughter.

Now that he’d seen them together, he knew, a) Bull really and truly thought of Marcia as his best friend, just as Felicity had always said, and b) if he ever tried anything, Marcia could likely beat Bull in a fight. With one hand tied behind her back.

Depending if she was wearing trousers at the time. In trousers, she could probably do it with both hands tied behind her back.

Now, the young man standing in front of him—almost as tall, in fact—was watching him seriously. After a moment, he nodded, apparently satisfied with Griffin’s understanding of his character. But he wasn’t done.

“And my mother?” The chain of the watch stretched between Bull’s fists. “Ye trust her?”

“I do.”

“Are ye planning on hurting her?”

Well, fook.

Griffin knew what the lad was asking, and he was uncomfortable enough to glance away to lock his gaze on the ornamental frame of the painting behind Bull. He swallowed. “I would never do anything to hurt yer mother, lad.”

In fact, he was doing everything he could to bring her pleasure.

Probably best not to say that.

“Are ye certain?”

At Bull’s question, Griffin’s gaze dropped back to him. The lad was looking uncharacteristically serious.

And Griffin understood. There was more kinds of hurt than just the physical. Whatever was in Felicity’s past, she’d been hurt, same as Griffin. Bull knew it, and was trying to protect his mother, a noble cause.

The boy had to understand what was passing between his mother and Griffin, and he wasn’t objecting. He’d heard his mother’s scream as she’d found pleasure, that first night, and he hadn’t burst in. He wanted his mother to be happy.

The realization was… Well, not surprising, but interesting.

“Ye want what’s best for her?”

The young man’s nod was immediate. “Aye, of course.”

“Well then, Bull, I promise ye this”—Griffin stepped forward, lowering his voice—“I will protect her with my life. I will care for her as long as she wants me to. Do ye understand?”

Bull’s gaze raked his face, then he nodded. “Aye, Gruff, I think I do.”

And for the first time, Griffin heard the affection behind the ridiculous nickname.

This young man, this strange lad he’d been forced to accept into his life for Marcia’s sake…he was like no one Griffin had ever met before. His love for life, his unabashed, unapologetic approach to what was expected and what he wanted…it was unique, aye, but in an instant, Griffin could understand why it was so appealing.

Perhaps if Rupert grew up a bit more like Bull and a bit less like ye, he’d be happier.

It was…an interesting thought.

Aye, this lad was almost as intriguing as his mother.

And Felicity was very intriguing indeed.

Griffin stuck out his hand. “Truce?”

“Truce,” agreed Bull, relief shading his expression as he took the hand enthusiastically. “I really can be helpful in this investigation, ye ken.”

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