To Wed A Viscount Read Free Page B

boy’s hair. It was surprisingly soft and fine. “Dobbins will see you both safely to Sommerville Plantation tonight. When will Morton return?”
    â€œTomorrow night.”
    â€œExcellent. I shall come for you and Neville tomorrow afternoon. Once you are safely aboard my ship, I will return to speak with Joshua Morton.”
    The maid’s eyes widened in alarm, but she didn’t refute his decision. “Tomorrow afternoon,” she repeated slowly. “We shall be waiting.”
    There was an awkward silence. Griffin slowly stood up. “Pray, in all the confusion I forgot to inquire. What is your name?”
    The servant blushed prettily and managed a crooked smile. “Mary. Mary Dawson, sir.”
    â€œI thank you, Mary Dawson, for taking such fine care of Neville. And I trust you to keep him safe until he is under my protection.”
    â€œOh, I will,” Mary replied earnestly. She dropped a small curtsy, then turned to the child. “Say good-bye to the captain.”
    â€œGood-bye, sir.”
    The sweet, trusting, childish voice echoed through the quiet room. Griffin found he had to swallow twice before he could reply. “Good-bye, Neville. I shall see you tomorrow.”
    Griffin gave Dobbins a forceful glance.
    â€œAye, Captain, I’ll keep watch out for the both of them,” the sailor said.
    Griffin waited till the bedchamber door shut, before walking back to the four-poster bed and sitting slowly down on the edge of the mattress. Caught up in his emotional mood, he barely noticed when Suzanne moved closer and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder.
    â€œHe is a fine little boy,” she said quietly.
    Griffin nodded his head. He felt disgusted with himself for the pain the child had suffered due to his neglect. Logically he knew it wasn’t his fault, for how could he have cared for the boy when he did not even know of his existence?
    Still, something clenched in his gut. Injustice of any kind had always rankled Griffin, but cruelty to an innocent child was an unpardonable offense. Especially when the child was his son.
    He shut his eyes for a moment to gather his strength. It certainly had been one hell of a month. In just a few short weeks he had become a viscount, and now it appeared he had also become a father.
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    Hawthorne Castle
Hampshire, England
Late May, 1809
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    â€œDo you think Griffin will arrive today, Harriet?”
    Harriet Sainthill glanced up from the soft linen handkerchief she was carefully embroidering and smiled fleetingly at her younger sister.
    â€œI suppose it is possible, Elizabeth. Griffin’s letter arrived two days ago. When traveling from great distances, more often than not the person arrives before the missive informing one of the impending visit.”
    â€œBut Griffin won’t be visiting,” Elizabeth insisted. “He is coming home to stay.” She lifted her arms above her head and twirled around with joyful abandon. “I can hardly wait. Once he arrives, I know he shall set everything to rights.” Elizabeth suddenly ceased her spinning. “Gracious, I just realized that I don’t even know what Griffin looks like.”
    Harriet shook her head and selected a bright red piece of silk thread from her sewing basket. “You were only a child when he left, barely seven years old. I imagine he has changed significantly over the years. Most men do, even older brothers.”
    â€œIt does not matter,” Elizabeth insisted. She flopped gracelessly into a worn chair, then turned her head to stare out the window. “I am certain Griffin will be dashing and handsome and charming. A true gentleman. Remember the lovely Christmas gifts he sent us last year? You often remarked how that beautiful silk shawl boasted the finest embroidery you had ever seen. Clearly he has exquisite taste.”
    â€œIt was Christmas two years past,” Harriet replied calmly, yet she held her