Page 44 of A Duke in the Rough

She patted his hand. “But I found great joy in my nephews. Much like Stratford, Burwood placed great emphasis on titles and power, but he was at heart a good man and—as far as I knew—a good husband to my sister.”

“How can you say that? He disowned my father. For falling in love, no less.”

The pitying look on her face shamed him. “As I said, he placed great emphasis on the peerage. I don’t know if he loved my sister or she him, but she seemed content. She died in childbirth.” Aunt Kitty dabbed at her eyes again. “The child—the little girl she’d always wanted—” At this, Aunt Kitty choked up and wept openly.

On instinct, Drake wrapped an arm around her. “Do I have another living aunt?”

She shook her head, still trying to regain her composure. “The child came too early and didn’t survive.” She wiped her face, her lips trembling as she forced a smile. “Those servants need to dust!”

He wished he had not sent Simon away. Surely, he could ease her sadness. “Tell me more about my father and his brothers.”

“Henry loved books. Your grandfather added to his collection mainly to please the boy, but he continued the practice long after they parted ways. I often thought it was in hopes that he would return.”

Drake grinned at her. “It is extensive. I wondered about it.” He sighed. “It would seem I take after my father in that regard.” His mind momentarily drifted toward Honoria and their meeting in the library.

“Your uncles would tease Henry mercilessly. Especially Peregrine, the eldest. What a scapegrace that man was. Died in a carriage accident, no doubt driving like the reckless fool he was. Snapped his neck, they said. Perry would have run the dukedom into shambles. He liked expensive things and threw money around as if he had a never-ending supply. Forbes, the second oldest, would have been much better suited for the title, but he died at the Battle of Trafalgar. Heroically, I might add.” She shook her head. “Such a loss. You would have liked him. I believe there is a son somewhere, born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

“My cousin.”

She nodded. “If you choose to claim him. But Forbes never married to produce legitimate progeny. After Forbes’ death, your grandfather placed all his hopes on Gyles, the next in line. Unfortunately—or fortunately for you—he had no interest in marrying—try as your grandfather might to coerce him. If you care to know more about him, Gyles had a rather close friend, Reginald Ford. Reggie and Gyles were inseparable. Reggie was like an unanchored ship when Gyles died.”

From Aunt Kitty’s last comments, Drake had a suspicion why Gyles had never married. And although he suspected Aunt Kitty also surmised the reason, he kept his suspicions to himself. Such knowledge in the wrong hands could lead to devastating consequences.

“I should like to speak with Mr. Ford if you know where to find him, as well as my cousin.”

“I have Reggie’s information. But as for your cousin, I only have a name. Miles Grey. I’m afraid even that won’t be much help in locating him. There must be an abundance of Greys in England.”

When he’d received the letter from Aunt Kitty, dread had seized him, but gazing at the old woman, Drake was indebted to her. “You’ve helped more than you imagine, Aunt Kitty. As much as my fa—FrancisMerrick loved and cared for me, I always felt a little lost, like I didn’t quite fit. I blamed myself for being an ungrateful son.”

“Perhaps you can repay the favor and tell me about the man who reared you? Are he and your mother in attendance?”

Drake shook his head, a sadness overtaking him. “My mother is in Dorchester awaiting word from me. But she is well and spent a month here with me when I returned to England. My stepfather died three years ago when I was in India. He was a good man. Hard-working, honest . . . except for withholding the truth about my parentage.” A dull ache squeezed Drake’s chest. “According to my mother, they both sought to protect me from the pain of knowing the cruelty of my grandfather.” His eyes darted to his aunt’s. “Forgive me.”

“Bah! Although I agree it was wrong of Burwood, I believe he meant it as an idle threat. He never imagined your father would choose love over his place in the family. Both were stubborn and not eager to admit fault in the dissolution of the relationship.”

“Do you think my father was wrong?”

She shrugged. “Not wrong, but impetuous. If he had waited and done his best to convince your grandfather to accept your mother, there would be no need for this secrecy. And you”—she poked a bony finger in his chest—“would already have your lady love.”

“And do you think my grandfather would have? Accepted my mother?”

She emitted a heavy sigh. “We’ll never know. We can’t undo the past; we can only move forward and take charge of our destiny that lies ahead.” She sent him another watery smile. “I met your mother once.”

Drake straightened in his seat. “You did?”

“Lovely girl. Well-mannered, especially for a Cit. Henry met her when he was in London for the Season.”

Drake smiled, remembering Grandfather Abernathy, a London tailor. “Did they meet at my grandfather’s shop?”

Aunt Kitty grinned. “Yes. Did you know your maternal grandfather?”

“I did, although we were unable to see him often. My father—Mr. Merrick, that is—found little time away from Somerset first as an apprentice steward to Lord Harcourt and later managing Stratford’sestate. But once, my mother took me to London, and my grandfather provided me with new clothing for my twentieth birthday.” He sighed, remembering how he’d hoped to wear them if he married Honoria.

“And those you have on now?”

Drake ran a hand down the fashionable dove gray coat. “Also expertly made by my grandfather. He apologized for keeping the truth from me, but said he was under strict orders from my mother.”

Her sharp blue eyes studied Drake again. “I can’t quite get over how much you look like him.”

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