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“Stop,” he whispered softly, pain and regret leaching into his words. “I did not come to argue.”
She was so surprised at the unexpected emotion in his voice, Romy couldn’t reply for a moment. “Then what did you come for, Your Grace?”
“You, of course.”
A delicious tremor ran up her spine impelled by the feel of one large hand splayed across her lower back. His fingers sank into the silk of her gown, hiding them from view as he squeezed the top of her buttocks.
“I am wholly unsuitable, Your Grace, as you’ve pointed out to me numerous times,” she sputtered, wishing with all her heart he’d not come here to torture her tonight. She had worked so hard to put her feelings for him aside.
“Are you certain of that, Andromeda?” His voice was low and quiet, whispering against the curve of her cheek. His scent, warm male skin and pine, teased her nostrils.
No. Quite frankly, she wasn’t sure of anything.
Granby said nothing more, and Romy stayed silent as well, not wanting to interrupt the sensation of being in his arms with more heated words. She closed her eyes, pretending everything was different between them, if only for the length of a dance.
The song ended much too soon. Romy’s eyes fluttered open as Granby led her off the dance floor, his hand, large and warm, curled around hers protectively. He stopped just short of her brother, bowing solemnly to her. When he straightened, the barest brush of his fingers caressed her stomach.
The slight touch unnerved her, knowing what it was he asked. “There is nothing that need concern you, Your Grace.” Her courses had come and gone, heralding that she was not with child. She’d been grateful, of course. And slightly bereft.
The intensity with which he observed her had Romy looking away.
“First, you are forever my concern, whether you feel it merited or not.” He gently tugged on the silk of her gown. “I came to tell you I must leave London for a time, Andromeda. No more than a fortnight at most. There is a personal matter requiring my attention.” His words faltered. “When I return, we need to talk.”
“I’ve nothing more to say.”
“Yes, but Ido.” Annoyance, the kind she was used to from him, flickered from the depths of his eyes. “And you will listen.” He looked away for a moment as if struggling to remain calm. “Please.”
Romy stared at him. He wasverydifferent tonight.
Granby nodded politely to her brother and Maggie once more before taking his leave of her, heading in the direction of the rooms set aside for cards. Romy had a difficult time looking away from the broad expanse of his back, remembering the feel of all that muscle beneath her palms as she had lain beneath him.
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?”
