Page 51 of A Duke in the Rough

She forced herself not to look back at Drake. “Perhaps.”

Burwood shook his head. “You have little faith in us, I fear. You are a lover of books. Don’t the great poets speak of woman’s inconstancy? Of their fickle hearts in the face of obstacles?”

“But were those poets not men who have no knowledge of the pain in a woman’s heart? Consider that which men perceive as inconstancy is merely a matter of survival when living with a heart irretrievably broken from a poor choice. For women are instructed not to express their true feelings, but to withhold them. We are not allowed to convey what is in our hearts until the man has done so first.” She chanced a glance back at Drake. “You speak of poets, but I think Miss Austen had the right of it.”

“You believe women are more stalwart in love than men?”

“Perhaps not more stalwart, but rather holding on to love with tenacious claws when hope no longer exists.”

Burwood appeared uncharacteristically pensive for a moment. “So no killing the fox if captured?” He grinned, breaking through the cloud of sadness and regret that hovered over her.

As they neared the woods, the hounds bayed furiously. A white-tipped russet tail flicked near the underbrush.

“Tally ho!” the master of hounds called, and everyone sprang into action.

“Stay near, Lady Honoria.” Burwood kicked his horse into action. “You may be the only hope in saving our furry friend.”

As she suspected, his assertion regarding his lack of prowess on horseback proved to be an exaggeration, for he maneuvered the horse admirably through the thick brush.

“There! Straight ahead!” Victor Pratt called.

Over a fallen tree, the fox jumped—the hounds in fast pursuit.

Drake raced his horse past her, bent forward in the saddle, his face a blur of concentration.

“Wait for me, Mr. Merrick!” Anne’s horse darted past Honoria to follow Drake.

Riders cleared the obstacle with ease and wove their way farther into the woods. In one fluid motion, Drake jumped his horse over the debris, landing with grace on the other side. Honoria held her breath as Anne followed, releasing it only when Anne completed the jump safely.

It wasn’t prudent to take chances when riding sidesaddle.

Burwood pulled back on his mount and turned toward her. “Can you make the jump?”

Honoria normally didn’t fall prey to competitiveness, but something about Burwood’s words and Anne’s actions spurred her forward. “Of course!” She prepared herself for the jump, pleased when her horse didn’t balk and landed on the other side as sure-footed as she could have hoped for.

Burwood followed, giving her a nod of appreciation. “Well, done!”

She’d learned most of her riding techniques from Drake, and although she smiled at the compliment, she would have preferred Drake had delivered it. She wanted to make him proud.

But Drake’s focus was on Anne as they hurried through the woods after the fox. He remained close to her side rather than riding ahead, as he surely could have.

Much like Burwood was doing. “If you wish to ride ahead, Your Grace, please don’t let me keep you.”

He shook his head. “This was Merrick’s idea. I tend to be more of your persuasion, my lady. The poor fox is only minding his business.”

“You wouldn’t say that if the fox began attacking your chickens.”

The two of them were well behind the pack of riders, and Burwood reined his horse in. “You should tell him.”

“Who?”

“Drake.”

“Tell him what? To watch the chickens?”

Burwood raised a dark brow. “What’s in your heart. Don’t let society’s expectations and demands rob you of what you so deserve.”

Startled at the duke’s exhortation, she blinked. Had he been trying to make Drake jealous with his flirting? He obviously knew she still cared for Drake. But what purpose would it serve to bare her heart only to have him tell her she was eight years too late, and he had put the past behind him?

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