Ignatius Leclair knew that Griffith Squire was worried about Delphine overthinking alone at home, so he had deliberately come to keep her company. Still, there was a trace of discomfort lingering in Ignatius's heart as he bent down to pick up the drunken Delphine.
"Delicious." Delphine murmured as she was lifted, squirming uncomfortably. She began fumbling in his arms, searching for alcohol.
Ignatius chuckled, his handsome brows alight with amusement. He stuffed an empty bottle into her hand. Seeing her clutch the empty bottle and fall asleep again, his smile deepened further.
Such a little drunkard.
Carrying her, the man stepped into the bathroom, filled the tub with hot water, and submerged her in it to wash away the smell of alcohol and spice from her body.
That sharp, biting scent lingered—how could Griffith have coaxed her into eating so much of that overly spicy food without worrying about her upset stomach? A faint trace of displeasure showed between Ignatius's brows.
