As she slid her hand over his arm, he patted it and gave her a devilish wink. “I gave younochoice.”
Laughter, light and genuine, bubbled up at his admission. As he led her into the massive dining hall, she peered up at him, realizing that she liked him—very much.
He glanced over. “Forgive my manners. I should have mentioned how lovely you are this evening. That gown is most becoming. It’s a good thing I insisted on having you by my side. Otherwise, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
At first, she attributed his comments to casual flirting—a general attentiveness he would probably pay to any of his female guests. But at that moment, she wondered if he seriously considered her for his duchess.
Oddly, the prospect wasn’t unappealing. Except for onenot sominor detail—the proximity of Drake in the duke’s home.
When they arrived at the dining table, Burwood shooed the footman aside and pulled out her chair himself, settling her to his right. Name cards rested beside the plates in the other spots.
She glanced over surreptitiously to where Drake settled next to Lydia Whyte on one side and Lady Miranda on the other. Anne Weatherby sat across from him. Even in her place of honor, Honoria envied her friends.
The Duke of Ashton sat on Burwood’s left, with the duchess next to her husband. Some would have considered it a slight not to seat the other duke in the place of honor Honoria occupied. But she knew Ashton enough to know he didn’t consider it an affront. In fact, he smiled across the table at Honoria. “I understand you experienced some discomfort earlier, Lady Honoria. Have you recovered?”
“Yes, Your Grace. It was nothing. Simple exhaustion from the journey.”
Ashton nodded. “Good. I heard your brother’s wife is ill, and I grew concerned you might have something similar.”
Goodness, she hoped not. Consumption was a horrible disease. “It’s been difficult, but Colin has insisted we stay away for our own protection.”
“That’s wise, and I’m relieved to hear it. However, if you have need of me, say the word.”
“I find your choice to continue practicing medicine most intriguing, Ashton,” Burwood said. “Perhaps you can give me counsel on how to adapt to the rigors of society. Word has it you inherited the title most unexpectedly as well.”
“True,” Ashton said. “However, my father was a duke, so at least I had the advantage”—tilting his head, he smiled—“or disadvantage, depending on how one views it, of being raised in the aristocracy. From what I understand, your upbringing differed greatly from mine.”
No heat radiated in Ashton’s words. In fact, Honoria sensed a camaraderie between the dukes.
“Indeed, much different. Who would have thought a boy raised by a stepfather would find himself the grandson of a duke? Certainly not I.”
Compassion shone in the Duchess of Ashton’s eyes. “I knew your grandfather. When I approached him for a donation for Harry’s clinic, he was quite bereft over the passing of your Uncle Gyles. If it helpsease the sting, he expressed regret over what happened with your father.”
Burwood’s smile vanished. “Do you mean how he disowned his own son for marrying a commoner? It would be more palatable had he expressed the same regretbeforerealizing his youngest son was his only remaining heir. Imagine his chagrin upon discovering he, too, had predeceased him, leaving only a common-raised grandson to inherit.”
The duchess blanched, and Ashton placed his hand over hers, giving it a squeeze, the small gesture of comfort pinging Honoria’s heart.
“Forgive me, duchess.” Sincere contrition laced Burwood’s voice. “I didn’t mean to snap. Old wounds, you understand.”
“Of course,” she said. “I don’t blame you in the least.”
“For what it’s worth, Burwood,” Ashton said. “Although elitism still reigns, there are those of us in the aristocracy who are striving for change. I, for one, am glad to have you in our ranks. It will be good to have a like mind in Lords.”
Burwood grinned, something Honoria realized she was growing fond of. “Shall we take them down, one noble at a time?”
“Something like that.” Ashton raised his glass in toast, his gaze shifting between Honoria and Burwood. “But perhaps we should discuss something less serious. We wouldn’t want to bore the ladies.”
Honoria had been following the conversation with great interest, especially the idea of reformation. “On the contrary, Your Grace, I find the subject of change fascinating. I’ve been trying desperately to convince my father that the changes proposed to the Poor Laws are not actually beneficial to the less fortunate.”
Burwood lifted a dark eyebrow. “My, you are a serious one, my lady. No nonsense and giggling for her, Ashton.” He pointed down the table with his fork. “Much like my friend. Merrick is exceptionally serious. However, at the moment, he seems to be enjoying himself immensely with Lady Honoria’s friends.”
Sure enough, Honoria turned to find Drake the center of attention among his female supper companions. Anne Weatherby lifted a hand to cover a laugh, Lydia Whyte brushed his arm and leaned in as he whispered in her ear, and even Miranda seemed in on the fun.Honoria’s stomach dropped, and suddenly the fish course in front of her didn’t look as appetizing as it had moments before.
“Is something wrong, Lady Honoria?” Burwood’s voice was gentle. “Is the fish not to your liking? From what I understand, that particular variety is one of your favorites.”
How did he know? She met his gaze, unnerved by the understanding in their blue depths. “It is, and it’s delicious.” She glanced back at Drake and her friends. Perhaps she should be more like them. She smiled at Burwood. “It’s simply the excitement of meeting you has left me breathless, Your Grace.”
Burwood winked. “Ho, ho! I think she likes me! Ashton, you and the duchess are my witnesses.”
