Page 35 of A Duke in the Rough

Drake ground his teeth so hard he feared he would crack a molar. How would Simon ever understand? “And Itoldyou. I want a woman to want me forme.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “She does, man. She doesn’t know you’re actually Burwood.”

“And did you forget about her father? Flames practically shot from the man’s eyes upon seeing me singing with his precious daughter. She’s a bargaining tool for him. A way to continue to exert his power.”

“Are you still allowing him to come between you?”

“Allow? Have you forgotten? Honoria made her choice eight years ago. I doubt that’s changed. Her father still holds sway over her.”

“You don’t know that! And who are you trying to woo? Honoria or her father!”

When had their voices escalated to shouting? Drake ran a shaking hand down his face. The memory resurrected the insecure, rejected boy standing before the man who told him he wasn’t good enough. That he would ruin his daughter’s life. It would crush him to go through that again. “Can we please cease discussing Honoria? I havesomething else of importance to share with you, and we may not have much time.”

“Time for what?”

“Aunt Kitty.”

Simon’s confused expression was almost comical. “Your aunt or mine?”

“You have an Aunt Kitty?”

After an insouciant shrug, he said, “Not that I’m aware of.”

The man was insufferable. “Simon, I need you to be serious for once in your ridiculous life. Apparently I have an Aunt Kitty. Great aunt, to be exact. I’m not sure how she is related since her surname is Dickens. I received a letter from her before you finagled me into singing with Honoria.”

“I told you, I was trying to?—”

“Help. Yes, yes. Let’s not start that again. What’s important is she’s coming here to meet me—you—Burwood.” Drake strode to the dressing table, retrieved the letter, then thrust it at Simon. “Read it.”

While Simon read the letter, Drake paced in front of him.

Finished, Simon peered up. “I don’t see a problem.”

“She’s familiar with the family. What if she starts questioning you?”

He gave another careless shrug. “I’ll answer her questions. So far, no one has caused a problem—except you. What’s the meaning of calling me Simon in front of Ashton?”

“It was a slip. But that’s precisely why I’m worried about Aunt Kitty—whoever the hell she is. What if she knows more about my background—like my mother’s name and, more importantly, that she married Francis Merrick after my father’s death?”

“How can she know that?”

“They tracked me down, didn’t they? I honestly didn’t think there were any living relatives left but me.” He fell lifelessly into a wingback by the window, and he stared at the rain streaming down the panes of glass.

“Let’s not panic quite yet. Perhaps we should tell Frampton to isolate dear Aunt Kitty in a parlor as soon as she arrives.”

Drake straightened in his chair, returning his attention to Simon. “We can’t keep her there the entire time.”

“No. But we can speak to her. Determine how much she knows. Then, depending on what we learn, we can panic.” He studied Drake. “Or you can come clean now and save us all more trouble. As much as I enjoy playing the all powerful duke, it’s starting to tire me. And”—he grinned—“although women have been most attentive, I’ve yet to receive one indecent proposal. You made it sound like women would be throwing themselves at me.”

Drake stared in disbelief. “Why must everything be about you?”

“Wasn’t that the whole point of this farce? To see which woman would be worthy to marry you? Which would not be swayed by a title and power and would care for the man within?” His usually ebullient demeanor vanished, and he grew serious. “I think you have your answer to that, although you refuse to admit it. But perhaps if you don’t want her, I might?—”

With more energy than he’d felt in days, Drake bolted from the chair. “Don’t you even think about pursuing Honoria in earnest. She deserves better than a rake like you.”

“And you said you don’t care what she thinks.” Simon had the audacity to smirk. “If there’s nothing else you wish to discuss, I’ll leave you to ponder that for a while.”

Without another word, Simon left, closing the door behind him.

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