Page 80 of The Design of Dukes (The Beautiful Barringtons 2)

“How much truth is there in Foxwood’s accusation? That your affections had been stolen by the brazen Andromeda Barrington?” She accepted the sherry from him.

David poured himself a scotch, looking down at the butterfly clip grasped in his free hand. It must have fallen from her hair last night as they’d made love. He’d nearly destroyed it with one of his boots.

Like I have Andromeda.

David put the clip in his pocket, ignoring the flood of unease filling him. She hadn’t been at breakfast. A note had been sent to her room inquiring after her health, but David had received no reply. He’d been about to leap up the stairs to her room and demand entrance when Aunt Pen had summoned him to the study, where David had been greeted by the furious glares of the Foxwoods.

“Some,” he offered.

“I’m surprised. Beatrice was such a logical choice.” Aunt Pen sipped at her sherry, a speculative look gleaming in her eyes. “Though I never cared for her. Your decision to marry Beatrice was motivated only by the knowledge that Horace would have approved.”

David didn’t want to speak of Horace. “I suppose Foxwood won’t be selling me the land I want now. I’ll spend a fortune in rail going the long way around.”

“Don’t change the subject, Nephew.” She wiggled her glass. “A bit more, if you please.”

He went to the sideboard, grabbed the entire decanter of sherry, and placed it on the table before her. “Don’t become a sot, Aunt Pen.”

She shot him a look of confusion before a laugh bubbled out. “Granby, are you making a jest?” Her eyes twinkled at him, and David was struck by an unexpected rush of affection for her.

“I suppose I am.” He sat in the chair across from her, the same chair in which he’d pleasured Andromeda the evening before. The seascape hung before him, exerting its calming influence over David.

“There will be gossip, Granby. Are you prepared for that?”

David didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure of very much right now except his desire to have Andromeda. “I’ve compromised her,” he said bluntly.

The glass of sherry hovered just before his aunt’s lips. “Good Lord.”

“Not Beatrice,” he assured her. “Andromeda.”

“I knew who you meant. Beatrice garnered little of your attention, but Andromeda...” She paused. “You rarely took your eyes from her the entire house party.”

“Even if I had not compromised her, I would still wed her.”

“How interesting,” Aunt Pen said. “Have you discarded your narrow view of the world so quickly? What about good breeding? Bastards? Pleasure palaces?” A tiny smile lifted her lips. “Horace would be so displeased.”

“Horace is dead.”

“You’ve finally noticed.”

David’s hand gripped the glass. This conversation was taking far longer than necessary. He’d only wanted to inform Aunt Pen of his decision as a courtesy. “Once we are married, I’ll ensure her family is kept at a distance. I’ve no intention of welcoming her bastard brother into my home.”

“Or your own brother, for that matter,” Aunt Pen added sharply.

“I don’t have a brother.” The bastard his mother bore her lover didn’t count.

“How convenient, Your Grace,” Aunt Pen continued, “to just hide all the things which make you uncomfortable instead of accepting them. I’m hoping you’ll prove more tolerant with Andromeda.”

There was a hint of mockery in his aunt’s tone. “There are certain aspects of Andromeda I am willing to overlook, as difficult as it is.”

“Indeed? How thrilled she must be to know that despite such flaws, you still wish to marry her. Do you suppose Andromeda will just toss her family away like spoiled pudding? I will be curious if she accepts you, Your Grace.”

“As I said, I’ve compromised her. It is no longer her decision.”

“Ah. You took the decision from her.Intentionally. Perhaps Horace isn’t dead after all.”

David stood. He needed to find Andromeda, and he wasn’t in the mood for another cryptic conversation with his aunt. “I’m sure you have things to do, Aunt Pen.” His voice was cool. “Seeing the remainder of our guests off.” Dismissing her as politely as possible, David headed in the direction of the door.

“You are very arrogant, Nephew.” Aunt Pen’s words stopped him. “And you overestimate your own allure.”

He’d no idea why Aunt Pen was intent on insulting him this morning. He’d thought she’d be happy at the prospect of Andromeda. Who he suspected was probably out walking before her trip back to London, waiting for him to find her. “How so?”

His aunt pursed her lips. “Andromeda and her sister left The Barrow at first light.”

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