Page 25 of A Duke in the Rough

“Allow me.” He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Guess who it is, Honny.”

Drake jerked his head toward Anne Weatherby and her ridiculous name for Honoria.

“Go ahead, my lady. Touch his face and tell us.” Simon’s tone and the smirk on his face confirmed Drake’s suspicions.

After giving hisfrienda look that said,We will have words about this later, Drake faced Honoria and held his breath. Would she touch him?

As she lifted her hand, he grasped her fingers, bringing them to his face. Even after eight years, her touch still sent a thrill through him. So light and tender, she traced her delicate fingers across his face, the tips trembling against his skin—lingering.

He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, yet keenly aware all eyes were upon them.Say it’s me. Say it’s me. Say it’s me.

“I’m not sure,” she said, her voice as tremulous as the fingers upon his cheek. “Is it . . . Burwood?”

For a brief moment, his heart soared that she had recognized him, forgetting she was unaware of his ruse. The subsequent descending trajectory was so sharp it made him nauseous.

Unlike Drake, Miss Weatherby seemed elated Honoria had guessed incorrectly—at least to her knowledge. “No. Guess again.”

Drake’s heart couldn’t bear hearing her speak another man’s name while she touched him. “Let’s not torture Lady Honoria further. Remove the blindfold, my lady.”

When Honoria pulled away the cloth and exposed her seafoam-green eyes, their gazes snagged and held. Bright splashes of color blossomed on her cheeks, yet no hint of surprise shone on her face.

Pain lanced at his heart—her rejection served fresh.

Gently lifting the blindfold from her fingers, he tore his attention away from her. “Who shall be next?”

Simon veritably glared at him. It would seem Drake wasn’t the only one wishing to exchange words. “Since you upset the rules, I declare it should be you.”

It was a price Drake was more than willing to pay to save Honoria from more embarrassment. “Very well.”

Dark shadows passed over the ground as Honoria joined the other players. Overhead, ominous clouds loomed, casting a pall that mimicked the despair infesting his mood.

He tied the blindfold on, thrusting himself into further darkness.

“Let me test it. I don’t trust you.”Simon. His friend leaned in and whispered. “How can I help you when you don’t cooperate?”

Help? Help?The man was mad. Through gritted teeth, he whispered back, “Donotpush either me or Honoria into each other again.”

None too gently, Simon spun him around.

They would definitely havewordslater.

A delugeof memories battered Honoria when she touched Drake’s face, the contours as familiar as her own. Of course, she knew who had stood before her.

Pride froze his name on her tongue, so she spoke the next best option. She couldn’t let him know how she still ached for him. Not when he clearly was no longer interested.

Yet, when she’d met his eyes, pain flashed in their amber depths. Had she truly wounded him?

Grateful to be free from the constraining darkness, she folded herself into the crowd.

Shouts rose from the others as a blindfolded Drake moved forward, hands outstretched.

“Over here, Mr. Merrick,” Anne called, placing herself directly in his path.

“No here, Mr. Merrick,” Lydia countered, moving to the side in an obvious attempt to draw him away from Anne.

Drake stopped. His mouth pressed together in a tight line, and although the corners tipped upward, Honoria had no doubt his eyes beneath the blindfold held no amusement. He was as enamored with the game as she.

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