She laughed, the sound almost as sweet as her singing. “I like your ears.”
And then she touched him, his ears, his face, his lips, her delicate fingers sending a shock of pleasure through him.
“My lady.” His words, choked with emotion, tumbled out. “I must tell you something.”
“What is it? You’re not leaving Overton House?” Her browed furrowed, and he yearned to smooth it with a kiss.
“I have no intention of leaving you—ever—if I can help it. I have grown so very fond of you.”
Her lovely green eyes, wide and innocent, searched his. A tiny smile tilted her lips. “As I have you.” She blushed again and turned away. “I look forward to our rides and our discussions of books. In fact”—she toyed with Buttercup’s reins—“it is my favorite part of the day. I wish . . .”
He stepped closer, daring to hope she felt what he did. “Wish what? You can speak freely to me. No one else can hear but the birds and woodland creatures.”
“I wish my entire day could be spent in your presence.”
He’d lain awake the entire night before, practicing the words he longed to say, longing to make them eloquent, as was befitting a lady of her station. She deserved poetry and music, and . . . all the things he could not give her. But what he could give her, he offered wholeheartedly.
Gently, he grasped her arm and turned her toward him. Then, cupping her face with a callused palm, and forgetting his rehearsed words, he poured out his heart. “I love you, Lady Honoria. With mywhole being. I don’t have anything to offer you but myself, but if you could consider being my wi?—”
She propelled herself into his arms, pressing her face against his chest. “I love you so much, Drake.”
His heart soared at her words, and, using his forefinger, he tilted her chin up. Tentatively at first, he brushed his lips against hers, but when she didn’t pull away, he kissed her more earnestly. “I will speak with your father. I promise I will do what I must to provide for you.”
“I don’t care where we live, as long as we’re together.” Removing the locket around her neck, she handed it to him, allowing him to cut a piece of her hair as her own promise.
Two loud knocks at the door shook him from the bittersweet memory. Quickly, he placed the lock of Honoria’s hair back into its resting place, closing the locket with aclick, the sound reminiscent of his heart shattering when—days after he professed his love—she broke her promise and rejected him.
“Come,” he called, not really willing to speak to anyone.
Least of all Simon, who strode in as if all was right in the world—when everything most definitely was . . . not.
“What do you want?” Bitterness drenched Drake’s question.
Simon raised a dark eyebrow. “You said you needed to speak with me. Some matter of importance.”
Oh, yes. Aunt Kitty. But first, he would express his displeasure in volunteering Honoria to sing. “Did you forget that I told you Honoria has a fear of singing in front of people? What is wrong with you?”
Simon had the gall to look affronted. “I thought you exaggerated. I hoped to bring her out of her shell. She is rather shy.”
“Shy? Shy?! She’s terrified when put on display like that. No doubt from her father’s lofty and unrealistic expectations.” He tightened his grip on the locket.
“It all worked out. You both sounded marvelous. Well, she did. You, on the other hand, sounded like a howling?—”
Drake grabbed Simon by the cravat. “If you ever do anything like that to her again, I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.”
Simon batted Drake’s hand away. “You’ll have to wait in line. LadyCharlotte threatened me first. If she wasn’t so beautiful, I’d swear she was the devil’s spawn.”
“Lady Charlotte Talbot?” Simon’s description of the lady triggered a hint of something useful in Drake’s mind.
“Is there another Lady Charlotte present? That obnoxious man, Lord Middlebury, seems quite fond of her, or at least her brother. Personally, I find her cold and peevish.”
Momentarily forgetting his own anger with Simon, Drake barely resisted the chuckle. “Do you now?”
“Well, yes. Perhaps her corset is laced too tightly, or—” Simon’s gaze snapped to Drake’s. “How did we end up talking about that ice queen? Not that I want to be chastised by you. I apologize if I upset Honoria. I’m only trying to help.”
“Help? I neither want nor need the type of help you provide.”
“Open your eyes, man. The woman still loves you. It was written on her face. Imbued in every word she sang. I dare say if you just tell her the truth, she could be in your arms by nightfall.”
