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“Aye, which is how I ken Demon and Thorne and all about the—the no’ an investigation.”

“Look, lad, ye’re shite at subterfuge, but brilliant at stupid nicknames. Just come up with one for what we’re doing here.”

“Elephant hunting.”

“What?” Griffin frowned.

Bull didn’t hesitate. “That’s why we’re at Peasgoode. We’re elephant hunting.”

That was…remarkably fast. But Griffin nodded. “Aye, fine. Elephant hunting. So ye kenned about it through yer brother, he told ye?”

“Also, I’m verra good at listening at keyholes.”

Maybe he would make a good spy one day.

Shaking his head, Griffin turned back toward the gardens. “Come on, lad, let’s take a stroll. We can get the lay of the land, and ye can teach me to juggle.”

“What?”

Griffin snorted. “Ye expect me to believe ye dinnae ken how to juggle?”

“Well, aye, I do…” The lad sounded uncharacteristically confused, which made Griffin’s lips twitch.

“Apparently, thanks to yer lies, I do as well. How much would ye wager than Peasgoode asks me to demonstrate my juggling talent sometime?”

“Nae wager.” Bull grinned again. “For the record, that wasnae my idea. Marcia can be determined.”

“Aye, that she can, lad,” Griffin agreed as he slapped Bull on his shoulder. And instead of pulling away, he kept his hand there, and squeezed slightly as they walked. “Now, ye see that set of glass double doors? We ken that’s the Blue Room, based on where it sits in the house. So we can extrapolate that’s another sitting room, nestled beside the conservatory. What do ye think is above them?”

It was rare to see Bull without a smirk, but right now, his grin seemed less cocky and more excited. The kind of grin of a sixteen-year-old lad who was eager to learn, as he patted his pockets theatrically. “Should I be taking notes?”

“Nay, for now we’re just trying to map the house.”

“For our elephant hunt?”

“For my elephant hunt. Ye’re going to be charming, distracting, and safe, aye?”

Bull’s grin turned back to that cocky one again. “Aye, of course.”

Sometimes it was difficult to believe him.

But as they strolled, and pointed out various rooms in the estate, and Griffin made a mental map, he had to admit that he was starting to enjoy the lad’s company. He would keep Bull safe, and not for Felicity, not even for Rourke Lindsay, the Duke of Exingham. He’d do it because he, Griffin, cared for the lad.

Much to his surprise.

Chapter 16

He hadn’t come to her again last night, and Felicity had lacked the courage to ask him why. But the revelations of the day, the things she’d learned about herself…

She wanted to share those with him.

Well, no, obviously not share them with him, that would be terrifying. And stupid. If he didn’t feel the same way she did, it would be foolish to admit such a thing.

Especially since she wasn’t certain of her feelings herself.

She’d spent a lifetime without anyone with whom to discuss her findings and theories. She was used to keeping her own counsel, working through problems on her own.

So why did she have such a strong urge to discuss this? Why did she want to talk about her feelings for Griffin…with Griffin?