Page 84 of The Design of Dukes
Turning away, she lifted her chin, daring anyone at this bloody ball to so much as shoot her a speculative glance.
But the only person in Lady Ralston’s ballroom who watched her was Lady Beatrice Howard.
* * *
David madehis way to the room set aside for cards, finding a spot next to Haven who sat alone. Not surprising. Haven, in addition to his propensity for dueling, was also an excellent card player, so much so he was occasionally accused of cheating by players with less skill. If his friend lived to a ripe old age, it would be a miracle.
There were a few murmurs and side glances as he sat down, none of which would be silenced once talk circulated that he’d danced with Andromeda.
Haven nodded in greeting.
Blythe, always offering advice no one asked for, had impressed on David two things necessary to make sure the gossip about him and Andromeda died down. If the fire had no fuel, it could not burn. First, silence Lady Carstairs. Immediately. She detested Andromeda and was responsible for keeping much of the speculation alive.
David had gone to see Carstairs the very same day, impressing on him the importance of a holiday in the country for him and his wife. Lord and Lady Carstairs had left the city yesterday.
The second was Lady Beatrice Howard. Her status as the most sought-after jewel in London had been damaged, causing Lord and Lady Foxwood embarrassment. David must put out the story that Beatrice had refusedhimduring the house party, which she would embrace, and force her parents to do so as well. Even now, the gossip that David had been refused by Beatrice was making the rounds at Lady Ralston’s ball, which accounted for the pitying looks he received.
“How was your discussion with the lovely Lady Andromeda Barrington?”
“Stubborn. Hostile. Dismissive. Exactly as I anticipated. She’s terribly consistent and possesses a formidable temper.”
“That doesn’t bode well for your future.” Haven shuffled the cards he held, though no one sat at the table save him and David.
David waved down a passing servant. “Scotch. A big bloody glass of it.”
The servant looked in Haven’s direction. “My lord?”
“Scotch as well.” He turned back to David. “I see you’re back to enjoying spirits again.”
David merely grunted in response.
“I admire that about Andromeda. Her absolute lack of fear where you are concerned is her best feature. She’s not impressed with you at all.” Haven snorted. “Christ, Gran. I can’t believe you meant to marry her and then cut her off from her family.”
“You gave me the bloody idea.”
“Fair enough. But I didn’t think you’d take me seriously. Or be stupid enough to mention your intentions to her.”
Haven could benefit from a sharp jab to his nose. It had already been broken once. Breaking it again wouldn’t matter. “Ididn’ttell her. She guessed.” He peered over Haven’s shoulder, painfully aware of the looks and whispers being sent his way. “Take great care, Haven, that you do not admire what belongs to metoomuch in my absence.”
“She’s not a cloak or a horse you’ve purchased, Gran. I’m not sure Andromeda would appreciate your implied ownership of her person.”
“I’m well aware. But my advice to you still stands.” David might be gradually throwing off Horace, but there were some aspects of his personality that would never change. Possessiveness being one of them.
If he must acceptallof Andromeda, and David meant to, then she must accept all of him.
“I will ensure neither Estwood nor any other gentleman oversteps his bounds,” Haven said. “How long will you be gone? Is it estate business?”
David’s fingers drummed on the glass in his hand. He’d been deliberately vague about his reasons and his destination with both Blythe and Haven. Only Estwood knew.
“A personal matter,” he said to Haven.
He could have sent Andromeda a note that he was leaving town. Or dared to call on her. But he had an inkling she would have refused to receive him. And David had wanted to see her, with a need that bordered on desperation.
She was the only reason he’d come to Lady Ralston’s. Over the last few weeks, without Andromeda, David had realized how much her presence in his life had altered him. He hungered for only a moment of her. To smell the lavender on her skin. To have her insult him, which David quickly realized was more flirtation than actual offense. He wanted to talk to her about his mother.
And Horace.
Even now, as Haven droned on about the poor playing of Lord Benedict who had approached their table for a game, David heard nothing but the sound of her skirts wrapping about his ankles as they danced. The weeks since she’d practically had him thrown out of her home had been nothing short of agonizing.
