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“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.
He wouldn’t survive a lifetime without her.
