Mercifully, when she followed her parents to join Lord and Lady Easton, Miranda came to her rescue.
She threaded her arm through Honoria’s. “Let’s take a turn out on the terrace and leave our parents to plan our future with the new duke. Maybe they’ll work something out and we can both have him. Like one of those harems in Arabia.”
Lord Easton’s eyebrows shot up. “That is not humorous, Miranda. Please restrain yourself.” He turned toward Honoria’s father. “That girl will be the death of me if I don’t get her married off soon.”
Miranda tugged Honoria along, leaving their parents behind in a trail of laughter.
On the terrace, Miranda’s face grew serious as she studied her. “Good heavens, Honoria. What is it? You didn’t even chuckle at my joke.”
Before Honoria could answer, Charlotte slipped through the terrace doorway. “I saw you two sneak out. Are we having a meeting already?”
The more serious one of their small group—even more so than Honoria—it was no wonder Charlotte’s mind immediately went to something related to their “club.”
However, when she glanced at Honoria, she rushed forward. “What happened? You’re positively white.”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Miranda said.
The terrace door opened again as Anne burst out. “Isn’t he divine! So handsome and elegant.” She twirled around the terrace, most likely imagining herself dancing with the duke—or possibly Drake.
The thought chilled Honoria even further.
“Anne. Do stop. We’re trying to discuss something serious here,” Charlotte admonished.
Anne appeared affronted. “What’s more serious than a handsome duke and his even handsomer man of business? Just think! We have two men to choose from.”
“I’m sure the other unmarried men will either be hurt you haven’t included them in your attractiveness assessment or thrilled to be off your hunting list.” Miranda shook her head. “Our concern at the moment is Honoria.”
Anne’s smile vanished. “What’s wrong?”
Both Miranda and Charlotte veritably shouted, “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
“Well, you don’t have to yell.” Anne directed her attention toward Honoria. “You do look peaked, Honny.”
Charlotte groaned. “Will you not use that ridiculous nickname?”
Honoria finally found her voice—or at least an opening to speak for herself. “Everyone, please. I’m fine. Simply tired. I didn’t sleep well last night, and the carriage was stifling on yesterday’s journey.”
Charlotte flicked a hand at Anne. “Go fetch Honoria some lemonade.”
“Why me?”
Anne’s eyes widened when all three of them responded, “Go!”
Miranda grasped her arm again. “Come sit down. There’s a bench over here.”
Two pairs of brown eyes studied her.
“Are you certain that’s all it is?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes,” Honoria choked out the lie.
They all looked up as the terrace door opened once again. Anne beamed as she appeared—without lemonade. “The duke is bringing you some himself!”
Moments later, the duke emerged, holding a glass of lemonade. “I understand someone is parched.” His smile, so kind, conveyed an understanding that unnerved her.
He handed her the glass, then crouched before her so they were eye level. “Should I fetch a physician? Dr. Marbry perhaps? He seems a congenial fellow.”
Good heavens!Unable to speak, she shook her head. Her hand trembled as she lifted the glass to her lips.
