“As the former groom on his estate, or even as Burwood’s man ofbusiness, that may be true. Stratford isn’t a bad sort, as men in the aristocracy go. Better than the monster I was married to.”
Drake’s head jerked toward her. He knew so little about anyone in his family.
“Like your grandfather, Stratford holds to a particular set of rules.” She held up a hand, silencing Drake’s unspoken argument. “There’s a place for rules, whether you like them or not. But when you put rules above the happiness of those you love, they need to break.” She grinned at him. “Or at least bend a little.”
He shook his head. “Stratford would never bend. I need to consider another lady.”
She studied him, her eyes clear and sharp. “Is it so important to you to maintain this ruse when revealing the truth would easily solve your problem and win the lady of your heart?”
Simon snorted a laugh.
“If a woman accepts me as a duke, how could I be sure it wasn’t just the title that won her? It may seem petty to some”—he glared at Simon—“but I need to know I’m worthy in my wife’s eyes as a simple man.”
She nodded. “Very well.”
“Then you won’t give us away?” Drake motioned toward Simon, who again had lapsed into uncharacteristic silence.
“I’ll do more than that. I’ll help you. Allow me to speak with the lady of your interest to gauge her feelings.”
He blinked, overcome by her offer to become an ally. “You would do that for me?”
“I will on one condition.”
Drake pulled in a deep breath, preparing himself for the old woman’s demand. “Which is?”
“Once the lady in question—whomever she might be”—Aunt Kitty’s eyes sparkled with mischief—“accepts your proposal, you will not only end this farce forthwith, but you will never reveal I was party to it.” She straightened her hunched shoulders. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
Something about her last words made Drake laugh. He liked hisnewly found aunt—very much. “You strike a hard bargain, madam, but I agree.” He held out his hand.
She batted it away. “None of that. Give your aunt a proper kiss.”
She offered her cheek, and he gave her a chaste peck. “Thank you, Aunt Kitty.”
She swatted at the air again. “No more of that if we’re to be believable. You will call me Countess, or Lady Gryffin.” She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her eyes. “Have you had the servants dust recently? A particle must have floated in my eye.”
Drake exchanged a smile with Simon. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Especially for you.”
He placed a hand over his heart in dramatic flair. “I’m too choked up with emotion from this beautiful reunion.”
Sharp as a razor, Aunt Kitty saw right through him. “Bah! Let’s just hope my nephew’s scheme doesn’t blow up in his face and you end up with the woman he loves. If I know Stratford, he’s already prepared the marriage contract with the Burwood name on it.” She glanced Drake’s way, no doubt assessing his reaction.
Which was not one of pleasure at the thought. He wanted to change the subject away from Honoria. “Aunt. Forgive me, Countess. You said you were my father’s—Henry’s—favorite aunt. What was he like?”
Her gaze took on a faraway, dreamy look. “Ah, he was my favorite, too. The best of the bunch. Level-headed. Kind. I was sorry to hear he’d died so young.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “Please have your servants dust, or I will be forced to leave, and I have a feeling you’re in need of me.”
Drake glanced at Simon. “Burwood will see to it immediately, won’t you,Your Grace?”
Taking the cue, Simon excused himself, leaving them alone.
“Forgive me, Aunt, but I don’t even know if you’re my grandfather’s or grandmother’s sister.” Her comment about her husband had chilled him to the marrow. “Tell me about you and then more about my father.”
“Your dear grandmother was my eldest sister. Oh, she was beautiful, a diamond of the first water. Burwood had yet to inherit, buthe recognized a prize when he saw one. Snapped her up her first Season. I was but a girl then, but my parents—a baron and baroness—seized on the fact that Burwood could advance me in society as well.”
She took a deep breath, and unlike the dreamy expression she bore earlier, her countenance appeared stormy and troubled. “At the age of ten-and-five, I was promised in marriage to the Earl of Gryffin. Two years later, I married him. It was a loveless and violent marriage. He needed my dowry and an heir”—oddly, she grinned at him—“which I refused to give him.”
Drake stared in wonder. “The dowry or the heir?”
“The heir, foolish boy. I had no control over the dowry, which he well knew. But it gave me great pleasure that my body refused to provide the heir he needed.” No doubt reading his questioning gaze, she clarified. “It wasn’t for lack of trying on his part, if I may be indelicate. I simply could not bear a child. It infuriated him. And as much as I wanted a child to love, having Gryffin as a father would have sentenced the poor babe to a life of unhappiness. At least I kept that to myself.”
