Promises Made by Ava Stone

Author:Ava Stone
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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“I am sorry, sir.” The MacLaren’s very English butler eyed Griffin as though he was some sort of gutter trash who’d stumbled onto the front stoop. “Lady Elspeth isn’t in this morning.”

The devil if she wasn’t. Griff folded his arms across his chest and glared at the servant, perfectly willing to browbeat the man into letting him see Ellie if he had to. Ian had suggested Griff court Ellie until the end of the season, but now he was barring Griff entrance to MacLaren House? Griff shouldn’t have been surprised. This sort of trickery was just like a MacLaren. That must have been why Ian spirited Ellie from the Ridgemonts’ last night before Griff could return to the ballroom. If that duplicitous earl thought he could keep Ellie from him indefinitely, he was in for quite the surprise.

Griff ought to abscond with Ellie all the way back home and marry her as soon as they crossed the border. Ian would never keep her from him then. Of course, he had to be afforded the chance to see Ellie in order to for them to escape England together.

But then a thought popped in his head, the answer to his problem, something Lady Astwick had said the night before. “And what about Lady Ericht? Is she available this morning?”

Lady Ericht, after all, hadn’t been born into the MacLaren family, but the Montgomerys’. She might very well be the only trustworthy person living under this particular roof.

“Lady Ericht?” the butler echoed, a frown marring his English face as though the possibility that Griff might have asked for the countess had never crossed his mind…or rather his employer’s orders until now.

“Aye. The countess,” Griff replied as though the man was a dunce. He knew very well who Lady Ericht was, but Ian must not have barred Griff from visiting his mother, and the butler wasn’t certain what to do. Thank heavens Lady Astwick had mentioned the countess the night before. She might very well be his ticket into MacLaren House.

“Well,” the butler stuttered, “I—uh—suppose I’ll see if her ladyship is in. If you’ll just wait out there...” He began to shut the front door in Griff’s face.

But Griff wasn’t about to be thwarted by an English butler of all the damned people. So he pushed the door open wide and stepped inside the foyer, brushing past the butler in the process. “How about I wait here instead?”

At once, the servant resembled a fish, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing, though no words escaped him.

If Griff was a more generous sort, he’d feel badly for the man; but as the butler was the one currently keeping him from Ellie, he didn’t have any sympathy for the fellow. “Go on,” he urged. “Go find out if Lady Ericht is receiving visitors this morning.”

As soon as the butler darted up the staircase, faster than Griff would have given the old man credit for, the sound of a violin hit his ears. František Benda.

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