Page 110 of A Duke in the Rough

“I understand perfectly. Your pride stands in the way of your happiness. Perhaps it’s not Honoria’s or Stratford’s acceptance of you that’s the problem. Maybeyouneed to believe in your worth.” Simon rose and placed a hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Have faith in yourself. But don’t let pride rob you of the happiness you deserve. Marry Honoria and, if it’s still important to you, prove your worth to Stratford by showing him the man you truly are.” After giving Drake’s shoulder a squeeze, Simon left, closing the door behind him with a softclick.

Drake collapsed back onto the bed. Simon was right.

He not only needed to trust Honoria and put the past behind him. He needed to believe in his own worth.

CHAPTER 31

Honoria paced the floor of her bedchamber. The house had finally grown silent. Murmurs of voices had drifted away as people retired to their beds after the night’s festivities.

Yet sleep was far from Honoria’s mind. If Drake wanted proof of her devotion and commitment, she would give it to him—in the most drastic way she knew how.

Well, the truth was—she didn’t knowhow. But she hoped he would guide her. Not only would her action prove her love, but her father would have no choice but to accept Drake’s offer of marriage if she told him what she’d done.

She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but desperate times and all that.

And if her father still didn’t accept Drake? Although she wanted his blessing, she didn’t need his permission. She would marry Drake with or without it.

The time had come to put her plan into action.

Her heart pounded like timpani. Each bang against her ribcage shouted a warning. Her mouth was as arid as a desert. Still, she pressed forward, determined to be brave—even fearless.

She peeked out into the candlelit hallway, pleased it remaineddeserted. Downstairs a clock chimed three, its low sound reverberating in the still house. She stepped from her room and closed the door behind her with aclick.Ten seconds later, when no one opened their own bedchamber door to investigate the noise—which to her sounded louder than a clap of thunder—she tiptoed toward her destination.

Eight doors down on the right from hers, the distance seemed to go on for miles. She counted carefully, ready with a quick excuse of sleepwalking should someone discover her.

Five, six, seven, eight. At last she stood before the door to either her humiliation or her ecstasy, praying Juliana had given her the correct location.

Perspiration drenched the palm she placed on the doorknob. She tried to twist, but nothing happened.

Was it locked?

After wiping her hand on her nightrail, she tried again. The knob moved, and the door creaked open, allowing her to peer inside. Streams of moonlight filtered in from the windows where the curtain had been pulled back, illuminating the sleeping figure on the bed.

When she pushed the door open more fully, it squeaked, freezing her in place. The figure in the bed shifted but then settled. She held her breath and counted to twenty before proceeding. Once inside, she closed the door, her muscles tensing as it squeaked again, then sealed with a softsnick.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she squinted, trying to discern the features of the man who lay before her. Was his hair brown or darker? Everything appeared gray or slate-colored. She crept closer to the bed.

Her breath hitched at the sight of Drake.

Bare shoulders, arms, and chest peeked from the thin linens covering him from the waist down.

Her cheeks heated at his state of undress, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Rather than serene repose, his countenance appeared troubled—his brow furrowed, and his hand twitched restlessly.

The courage she had called forth upon leaving her room deserted her, and cold panic gripped her chest—squeezing.

What had she been thinking?

This is a horrible mistake.

When she backed up, ready to turn and flee to the safety of her room, she bumped into a table behind her, jarring something resting on top. Theb-ring, b-ring, b-ringalerted her thesomethingwas about to fall.

She spun around and steadied the empty crystal glass and brandy decanter, stilling the accusatory sound.

Just as she was about to release the breath she held and make her escape, creaking from behind froze her once again.

“Uhh,” Drake groaned.

Cautiously, she peeked over her shoulder, catching Drake sitting up and running a hand over his face. The linen sheets dropped lower on his body, exposing a bare hip.

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