Page 50 of A Duke in the Rough

“Take heart, Miss Weatherby. Perhaps as we grow near, their conversation shall shed light upon the matter.”

Thankfully, Buttercup followed Major as Drake led Anne toward Simon and Honoria.

The proximity did nothing to alleviate Drake’s unease.

“You look especially fetching today, Lady Honoria,” Simon said. The honey in his voice so sickeningly sweet, Drake wanted to cast up his accounts on Simon’s polished boots. “That shade of green matches your eyes exactly.”

Drake ground his teeth.Damn it, Simon.However, every word was true. She did look lovely. Her little hat perched atop her red curls tilted at a perfect angle, and the seafoam-green color complemented her fair skin, the pink blush on her cheeks only accentuating her natural beauty.

Two could play at that game. “Miss Weatherby,” he said, hoping his voice carried enough. “You have a wonderful seat.”

Simon snorted a laugh.

What had he said that was so funny? He darted a glance toward Anne, who appeared mortified. “On the horse.” It was a slight prevarication. She sat the horse adequately, but nothing like Honoria, who appeared regal in the saddle.

“Oh.” Anne tittered a laugh. “Thank you, Mr. Merrick. When I was a child, I was thrown from a horse. I suppose that’s why my brother was so concerned about Buttercup. But I haven’t let that stop me.”

“So you don’t give up at the first sign of difficulty?”

“Oh, no, sir. I am unwavering in my determination.”

“Would that determination also apply to matters of the heart, Miss Weatherby? Say, for example, you favored a man your family disapproved of. Someone not titled, perhaps. Would you be persuaded to give him up to please your family?”

“No, sir. I would be steadfast and true in my affection.”

“I admire a woman who knows her own mind. She’s the one I would choose as my wife.”

Drake’s attention had been solely on Honoria, watching for any little reaction to the conversation. He wished he could see her face. Strange satisfaction swept through him when her shoulders slumped a fraction.

However, when he turned back toward Anne, his stomach tumbled to his boots at her lovesick expression—focused squarely back on him.

What had he done?

CHAPTER 15

Drake’s words sliced through Honoria’s heart, condemning her. Did he realize she could overhear his words to Anne? How much they wounded—true though they were?

Surely not. He may have been careless with his conversation, but he would never be cruel.

NotherDrake.

And yet—hewasn’thers.

“You appear deep in thought.” Burwood’s words jolted her from her maudlin musing. Concern shone in his blue eyes, the seriousness of his expression replacing his lively teasing and easily given compliments. “Although I’m not the best of listeners, I do have two ears awaiting you. Should you care to avail yourself, that is.”

“It’s nothing,” she lied.

From the look he delivered, as usual, she had mucked up the attempt at prevarication.

She offered something more truthful, even if less than an accurate account of her true thoughts. “I hope the fox gets away.”

His echoing laugh cracked like thunder. Behind them, one of the horses whinnied. “You do realize this is a foxhunt, my lady? The purpose being tocatchthe animal.”

No condescension colored his voice, and amusement painted his face.

“I do, sir. However, from what I understand, men prefer the chase more than the capture itself. The excitement, the uncertainty of the outcome, makes it all the more appealing. Once the victory has been won, they quickly lose interest.”

“You speak of more than the pursuit of foxes.”

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