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Daniel glared at him. He forgot to speak to him about his flirting earlier. “You need to stay away from my sister.” He had no claim on Iris. Yet. But he could warn him off of Calliope.
“I had to escort her in to dinner. Did you want me to be rude to her?” Goodland shook his head, then played his card. Daniel cursed. He had lost this hand.
“Give me the brandy,” he conceded, his loss. Lindsey poured it into his snifter, and that was the end of that decanter. “We’re out of brandy.”
“Don’t worry,” Lindsey said. “There is more.”
“I can’t drink any more.” He was done for the night. If he drank another sip he might fall into unconsciousness. “I’m going to bed.”
Daniel stood and swayed a little on his feet. Damn, he was stupid drunk. Why had he agreed to this game again?
“Can you even make it up the stairs?” Merrifield asked.
“Of course I can,” he insisted. He walked, what he thought, was a straight line to the door. He heard laughs behind him, but he didn’t turn and glare at them. If he did, he might fall over and he was determined to make it to his bedchamber.
Somehow, by some miracle, he fumbled his way up the stairs and into his bedchamber. He didn’t bother with lighting a candle or calling for his valet. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep off the brandy. Daniel yanked off his boots and tossed them to the side, then slid off his jacket and waistcoat. When he had all of his clothes off, he slid into bed completely naked and then curled up against the warm body next to him. He didn’t question why she was there. She visited his dreams so often he assumed she was there to return to her nightly haunting...
