The current situation became more intolerable to Romy each day. It wasn’t just the gossip, though that was certainly unfortunate. Nor the damage done to her reputation. It wasn’t even being banned from visiting Madame Dupree’s.
It was Granby.
His massive shoulders and giant booted feet had not visited the Averell mansion again, which Romy told herself pleased her, even though it didn’t. Nor had she seen him stomping about at the events she’d attended. The only reason she knew the Duke of Granby to still be in London was an item appearing in the gossip columns claiming that Granby had been seen calling on Beatrice.
A group of ladies clustered at the far wall, her mother and Cousin Winnie among them, waving their fans. Cousin Winnie refused to leave her mother’s side, feeling it her duty to protect her cousin’s widow from any who would cause her distress.
Romy’s mother looked beautiful in her off-shoulder gown of gunmetal silk. And very angry.
Lord Torrington danced into her field of vision, a bored Rosalind held in his grasp, her skirts swirling about her ankles.
Rosalind caught sight of Romy and lowered her eyes, likely still feeling guilty over directing Beatrice to Romy’s room at The Barrow. She’d forgiven Rosalind, of course, because how could her cousin know Beatrice would simply waltz in without knocking? Or that Romy had left her sketches out?
“He’s here, by the way.”
“Who?” Romy said, knowing full well who Maggie referred to.
“Granby.”
Romy scanned the ballroom, but for a man so large, Granby was surprisingly impossible to spot in the crush. She smoothed a non-existent wrinkle in her skirts, determined to stop the twist of excitement at seeing him. Though she’d refused him, the love in her heart had not quieted.
“Is my mother faring well this evening?” This was not the first outing Romy and her mother had attended as of late, simply the largest. Together, with Tony and Maggie at their sides as well as the indomitable Cousin Winnie, they’d tolerated the whispers at the theater and at a small soiree given by Lady Hatterfield.
But this was Lady Ralston’s ball.Everyonewas here.
“Amanda is fine, Romy. Your scandal has given her incentive to be out amongst society. Frankly, I’m more concerned for Cousin Winnie. I’ve never seen her so upset. And stop changing the subject. Granby ishere.”
“I heard you.” Her stomach clenched again. “You needn’t worry. I don’t think he’ll speak to me or any of us. I’ve heard he’s courting Beatrice again, so I doubt Granby has any interest in me.” There was a wistful sound to her voice which unsettled her.
“No, I mean he ishere. Now. Bearing on us from the rear. Goodness, he’s large.”
Romy spun about, flustered, looking for a way to disappear. Turning to her brother, she took a step, thinking to find sanctuary behind his back.
Tony shook his head, stopping her. “Stand your ground,” he mouthed.
“Lady Andromeda.”
The low rumble vibrated down her shoulders, stirring up her desire for him. The longing for him was always present, just beneath her skin, flaring up at the most unlikely times. She’d spent weeks trying to force it from her system.
No, not weeks. Much longer than that. Since their first heated encounter at Lady Masterson’s garden party. Romy had been drawn to Granby then, only she hadn’t known the extent of their attraction for each other. Or the effect it would have on her heart.
He found herlacking. Imperfect.
But in Granby’s defense, taking note of the dozens of eyes drifting in the direction of the small group of Barringtons, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
We should be called the Blind Barringtons.
Granby loomed over her, darkly handsome in his impeccably tailored formal wear. Her eyes immediately went to the length of his coat before glancing up at him. The ebony waves of his hair had been brushed back, but a handful of impudent locks were inching ever closer to his left eye.
“Your Grace.” Romy swept down into a perfect curtsy. At least she could do that much correctly. “My sister-in-law, the Duchess of Averell.”
“Your Grace.” Granby greeted Maggie politely, his eyes never leaving Romy’s face.
The ballroom seemed to hold its collective breath, waiting to see what would occur. Fans fluttered in the sudden quiet as heads turned in their direction. Romy had the oddest sensation of being a goldfish swimming about in a tiny bowl with a mob of children pressing against the glass.
“I believe you promised me this dance, Lady Andromeda.” He took her hand with a sharp, barely polite nod in the direction of her brother. Granby wouldn’t deign to ask permission, it seemed.
Romy glared right up into his beautiful, arrogant face. “I fear you are mistaken, Your Grace.”
