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“It reminds me of bathwater that has gone cold.”
Granby pushed at the errant wave of his hair again. “Very descriptive. You feel I behaved in an insulting manner by assuming you to be one of Madame Dupree’s assistants, so you are returning the favor by disparaging me in return.”
Romy didn’t care for his observation, mainly because it was true.
He took her arm, the touch sending a tingling sensation up to her shoulder. “How is it that we have never beenproperlyintroduced, Lady Andromeda?”
“Avoidance, I suppose.”
“Why would you wish to avoid me? We’ve only just met, haven’t we?” The chill was still there in his words, but there was something else. A silky, slightly carnal quality that hadn’t been present before.
It was rather unnerving.
“I feel certain that should be obvious,” she retorted sharply, wishing he would simply stalk off and terrorize some children instead of herself. Surely there were some about.
When finally they reached her carriage, Granby halted, dark gaze fixed on the ducal seal and the livery of the footmen. “Averell.” He rolled the name over his tongue as if he found it distasteful.
“Yes. I’ve two brothers. The elder is the duke.” Romy always made it a point to remind everyone of the fact that she possessed not one but two brothers. Bastard or not, Leo was beloved by her and her family just as much as Tony.
Granby’s mouth pursed in disdain. He was yet another titled gentleman who adored spending his coin at Elysium all the while despising Leo for being a bastard. If Granby was such a bastion of propriety, it was likely he didn’t care for the Duke of Averell either.
Romy decided she found Granby and his rudeness beneathher.
The Averell footmen immediately came forward as Romy approached. They were both big, strapping young lads who eyed Granby with a stern look while moving immediately to Romy’s side, though the duke towered over them both.
“Hello, Wicks.” She nodded to one. “Rondal.”
Granby raised a brow at her casual tone in addressing the footmen, probably wondering why she would even bother to learn their names. He wasthattype of duke. The kind she disliked.
She pointedly looked at his hand on her elbow, staring at his fingers until he released her. Marching smartly to the door of her carriage, she tossed over her shoulder.
“Good day, Your Grace.”
* * *
David Warburton,Duke of Granby, had recognized the little termagant the moment he saw her inside the modiste’s shop even though she’d been wearing what looked like a flour sack. The last time he’d seen Lady Andromeda Barrington, he hadn’t known her name or that she was the sister of the Duke of Averell. She’d been dressed as a tree of some sort, floating about Lady Masterson’s garden party with a small notebook, hellbent on insulting dukes and their tailors. He’d returned the favor by stating she resembled a shrub.
The most beautiful one he’d ever seen.
Lady Masterson’s garden party had been some time ago, yet David had never forgotten the mostannoyingcreature he’d ever met. Andromeda hadn’t offered any apology for hurling insults toward a duke. No one of his acquaintance would have spoken to him in such a way, man or woman. Not only was he a duke, but David’s size often intimidated those around him, something he generally used to great advantage. He’d wondered, later, why the little shrub had been so unimpressed by him.
Because she’s the daughter and sister of a duke, albeit tarnished ones.
After Andromeda had dismissed him and lost herself in the crowd of guests at Lady Masterson’s, David had meant to seek out his hostess and ask the identity of the young lady, but a sudden rainstorm had disrupted the party, sending the guests back to London. He’d spent the rest of the season searching for her among the gaily dressed ladies of every event he’d attended, but her slender form had never reappeared.
Now he knew why. Andromeda’s father, the Duke of Averell, had died.
As David watched her carriage maneuver itself into the snarl of London traffic, he jerked down the sides of his coat to hide his reaction to Andromeda. The attraction to her was so biting and immediate upon seeing her, it had taken the breath from his body. Desire for her ebbed and flowed through his bones and cock, unwanted and unavoidable.
All things considered, it was for the best she was the Duke of Averell’s sister, a man David neither liked nor respected. The family’s charming list of eccentricities, as society politely referred to their tarnish, included a bastard, Elysium, and a dowager duchess who’d once been a lady’s companion.
A bastard son should be sent to the military as soon as possible with the hope he should be honorably killed in battle. A female should be put into service or shipped off to Australia.
His father’s teachings still resonated loudly within him, dictating his actions and molding him into a duke who would make his father proud. The Barringtons, by their very nature, invited attention, something the current Duke of Granby avoided at all costs. He’d learned well from his father’s mistakes, vowing never to repeat them.
As the carriage rolled away, David caught Lady Andromeda’s delicate profile in the window. She was stunning, as all the Barringtons were rumored to be.
Desire once more curled around his thighs.
“Your Grace.”
David turned to see Lady Beatrice Howard gliding out of the modiste’s shop, sun-kissed curls sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Another beautiful woman, but one possessing an impeccable lineage and a family tree with no spare branches. She rarely expressed an opinion on anything other than the weather. Beatrice would never insult him. She would be an obedient wife and bring little unwanted attention to the Duke of Granby.
In short, Beatrice, unlike Andromeda, was perfect.
