*Rowan*
“What the hell are you talking about?” Daphne questioned sharply.
Of all the luxuries Rowan was accustomed to as a Blackwood, he was never one to shy away from decent bourbon. Yet, another particular taste he’d inherited from his father.
After he made his grand appearance back at the manor nearly a week ago, he hadn’t let up from the bottle since. He didn’t understand why he’d let his control slip.
Was it from finally working up the courage to facing Alistair, having been ignored for so many weeks? Or, was it from seeing Daphne after walking out on the engagement that set him off?
She looked good—all things considered.
The woman was practically glowing from her pregnancy. That was, of course, until she saw him standing in his father’s study and her glow was soon turned into seething rage. That slap he’d taken to the face was not unjustified.