“And yet you profess feelings for me. That is most unlike you, Drake, to lead two women on.”
Shame filled his eyes, and he averted his gaze. “I know. But I’m honor bound by my promise, and I worry about damaging her reputation.”
“Oh, Drake.” The same reason she loved him now kept them apart. His unerring honor and loyalty. His desire to always do the right thing.
“So you see.” It was a statement, because of course she saw, and he knew it. “She must be the one to end things.”
Honoria wanted to tell him that Anne would understand if he were honest with her. But she knew her friend almost as well as she knew Drake. Once Anne had her heart set upon something, there was little one could do to dissuade her from her goal. Case in point—attempting to jump a stubborn horse. “Yes. I see your point. It must be her decision.”
As quickly as hope had arisen in Honoria’s heart, it drifted back to sleep. “But Drake, I cannot do what you ask until your attachment to Anne is dissolved. Iwillnot. And it is unfair of you to even broach such a request with me.”
He winced, her last words clearly landing a direct blow.
A hush surrounded them, and she realized that, although they continued to move in the three-four time of the waltz, the music had stopped.
How long had they been dancing sans accompaniment? Other dancers turned their attention on them, particularly Anne standing next to Mr. Pratt.
Drake escorted her off the dance floor and sketched an elegant bow. “Thank you for the dance, my lady. I will heed your words.”
Pain clouded Drake’s eyes, the stormy turbulence reflecting back and striking her squarely in the chest. As before, his pain became her own.
What a predicament. He wouldn’t tell Anne. Honoria, in good conscience, couldn’t say anything. Anne would surely accuse her of trying to steal her beau.
No. If Drake and she had any chance of happiness, Anne would have to release him of her own accord.
Then it would be up to Honoria to convince him that she wanted to marry him just as he was.
And face the fury of her father for marrying a commoner.
She glanced down at her dance card at Burwood’s name for the next dance.
You have an ally in me.
His words rang in her memory.
Squaring her shoulders, she strode toward him as he leaned against the refreshment table.
“Your Grace. I believe we have the next set.”
His mouth twisted in a distorted grimace, and he lifted his foot, swiveling it around at the ankle. “One moment while I recover from my set with Lady Charlotte.”
“Ha! I like that one.” Next to him, Aunt Kitty tilted her head toward Charlotte standing several feet away and looking very much like the cat who got into the cream.
Although Honoria agreed with the countess, she took pity on the duke. He appeared to require more thanone momentto recover from Charlotte’sattentions.“Perhaps if it is agreeable, we could forgo actually dancing. I should like to speak with you about something of importance.”
He ceased his foot wiggling and glanced up, giving her a rueful smile. “You would be my savior, my lady. May I suggest the bench on the terrace if that’s acceptable? Perhaps Aunt Kitty could accompany us.”
“It sounds perfect.”
As she threaded her hand through Burwood’s proffered arm and he limped her out to the terrace, she caught sight of her father. He looked over from where he was speaking to Lord Cartwright, his face hopeful.
She would disappoint him once again.
But she didn’t care.
CHAPTER 28
“Drake? Mr. Merrick?”
