Burwood turned toward the little group hovering around them. “Ladies, would you be so kind as to give Lady Honoria and me a moment? Perhaps step back out of earshot?”
They all exchanged curious glances, but nodded.
Burwood took a seat next to her. Keeping his voice low, he said, “You needn’t pretend with me.”
She almost choked on the lemonade. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Your Grace.”
Although his lips pressed together in a tight line, they curved upward enough to let her know he didn’t believe her lie. “Very well. If you wish to play it that way. But know you have an ally in me. In the meantime, you’ll sit next to me at supper this evening.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
His dark eyebrows lifted, drawing her attention to his strikingly beautiful blue eyes. “You would refuse a duke? My, such cheek. I insist, so there’s no use fighting it. What good is having this type of power if I can’t use it to secure a beautiful supper companion?” He said the last loud enough to elicit a little shriek from—what had to be—Anne.
He rose. “Now, drink your lemonade, and if need be, retire to your room to rest. I’ll alert Frampton to show you the way. Until this evening.” He bowed and then left them.
A collective sigh rose from her friends.
But all Honoria focused on were his words.You have an ally in me.
Later that dayafter everyone dispersed to freshen themselves before supper, Drake paced the floor of his bedroom, trying to avoid Simon’s chastisement.
His friend frosted him with a glare. “Almost using my real name! What in the devil were you thinking? You’re fortunate Miss Whyte didn’t question your slip. Part of me suspects you did it on purpose.”
“You’re mad.” Drake turned away and stared out the window to the terrace below.
Simon’s tone softened. “She’s unmarried, Drake.”
As usual, when it came to Honoria, there was no need to ask to whom Simon referred.
Unmarried.Why did that knowledge give him both hope and trepidation?
Questions assaulted him.
Was she a young and exceptionally beautiful widow? If so, what type of man had been her husband? Old and feeble, dying of a geriatric malady or simply old age? Or young and virile, succumbing to something tragic and unexpected?
Had the scandal of their association years ago tainted her so severely no man wished to associate with her? Unthinkable! Yet, he was all too familiar with the judgmental minds of theton.
Or had she chosen to remain unmarried? Unable to sentence herself to a loveless union because she still loved him even though she rejected him?
He held on to the last option—although self-serving—like a lifeline, because the alternative, that she had put him and their love in the past, was unacceptable.
“We can still end this charade.” Simon snapped him back to thepresent. “Oh, there will be some reparation needed, but that will be the case regardless. It would further your cause to win back Lady Honoria.”
“I’m not trying to win her back.”
A soft chuckle echoed behind him. “Is that why you had me rushing over to see what was going on when she and the other ladies couldn’t get out of the ballroom fast enough?”
“She looked ill. I had no more concern for her than I would for any of my guests.”
“You both are deluding yourselves.”
Drake spun around. “Both? What did she say?”
“See?” Simon pointed a finger at him. “I knew it. Why can’t you admit you still love her?”
Drake jerked his gaze away, mumbling, “Because it hurts too damn much.”
“What’s that? Something about hurt?”
