Page 42 of A Duke in the Rough

He didn’t need to say a word. TheNowas in his eyes.

Honoria loved her father. Truly, she did. For the most part, he was kind and loving. She tried to be a good daughter, to abide by his wishes.

To keep the peace.

But moments such as this, she wanted to scream.

“I had a chance to marry the man I loved eight years ago. It was you and Mother who determined he wasn’t good enough for me. You said he only wanted me for my dowry and status. ‘To elevate himself in society where he doesn’t belong’ were your words, if I recall. You toldme if he had truly cared for me, he wouldn’t have accepted payment to secure a position in the military. That to him, I wasn’t worth more than a cadet’s commission in the cavalry. You need not worry about Mr. Merrick pursuing me. I broke his heart along with mine whenyoupersuaded me to give him up. He will never forgive me.”

He stared at her wide-eyed. Her mother grew so pale, Honoria worried she might swoon on the spot.

Lessons carefully drilled into her through years of tutelage were forgotten.

Shame and power pulled her in opposite directions as she stared at her parents’ shocked faces. She needed air.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and hurried from the room. Small knots of people moved out of her way, their gazes trained on her. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she willed them back.

Momentarily disoriented, she raced up the hallway. The sanctuary of her bedroom called to her, but tears blurred her vision. Where was the staircase? Worried she wouldn’t make it to her room without being seen before losing her composure, she searched for a vacant room.

Things went as wellas expected with Aunt Kitty. As Drake explained his and Simon’s plan—well, his plan—she sat and listened intently, only interrupting to ask questions to clarify.

“Do you mean to tell me you’re doing all this for a woman?” Aunt Kitty looked positively flabbergasted.

“Notawoman,” Drake insisted. “But to find a bride whose only concern isn’t marrying a title.”

“Pfft.” Aunt Kitty batted an invisible fly out of the way. “There is no woman on earth who isn’t swayed by a title.”

Drake ran a hand through his hair, certain he was undoing his valet’s meticulous styling. “I’m not saying this correctly. What I mean is someone who cares for me as a person first. Keeping a title out of the mix to muddle things seemed like a good idea.”

Aunt Kitty appeared dubious. “Then why not marry some country girl? Not that your grandfather would have approved. Why bring thebest of English society together for a house party in order to find your bride?”

During Drake’s woefully inadequate explanation, Simon remained exceptionally—and uncharacteristically—quiet. Hairs on the back of Drake’s neck rose when Simon opened his mouth.

“Aunt Kitty.” Simon delivered the rakish grin that made many a woman swoon and follow him to his bed. “May I call you Aunt Kitty? What Drake is refusing to admit, even to himself, is there is one woman in particular he wishes to put to his test.”

“Here? Among the other hopeful ninnyhammers?”

“Indeed she is,” Simon said.

Drake glared at Simon. “She’s not a ninnyhammer.”

One of Aunt Kitty’s wiry gray eyebrows quirked. “Ah ha! Sir Galahad defends his lady fair. What’s her name? Do I know her?”

Did she?

If they were to continue with their ruse, they needed Aunt Kitty to cooperate, especially around Honoria. “Lady Honoria Bell.”

Unfazed, Aunt Kitty continued, “The Marquess of Stratford’s daughter?” Her gnarled fingers worked at her chin. “Let me think. There was a scandal some years back about her ruination when she became enamored with a comm—” The old woman’s gaze snapped to Drake’s. “You!” She clutched her cane, her sharp blue eyes studying him. “Don’t deny it. I can see it in your face.”

“Yes. My stepfather was Stratford’s steward, and I was a groom on his estate in Somerset.”

“Did you toy with her affections, young man?” Warning rang in the old woman’s voice.

Drake was growing tired of Aunt Kitty’s interrogation. “No! I loved her.”

With a tilt of her head, she reminded Drake of a crow. “Loved? But no longer?”

Air stilled in the room as if it, too, waited for his answer. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. She would not consider me. Her parents turned her against me before and no doubt would again.”