New tears formed, not from laughter, but from a deep longing and regret. And in the dark, amid Watson’s snores, she let them fall silently into the night.
“Areyou certain you want to do things this way?” Simon asked. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Safe in the confines of the study, Drake stared at his friend. Should he? Frampton, the butler, informed him the guests had begun to arrive. He couldn’t delay any longer. “Since we’ve already advised the staff of the deception, it would be difficult to change our plans now.”
Simon studied him, head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed. “One word to Frampton and he would put all to rights. The man is incredible.”
Drake tugged on the sleeves of his bespoke coat. “I have no doubt. You would only hire the best. But . . .”
“It’s about her.”
Drat.Simon always saw right through him. “Not just her. All of them. Itching to snare a duke for a husband. I don’t want someone who only wishes to marry a title. I want someone to want me forme.”
“Don’t we all. But regardless of what you say, these plans are still tied to your past. Don’t deny it.”
“I’ll admit to nothing. As is my right as a peer of the realm.” Drake softened his words with a grin.
Yet, he couldn’t deny it if he tried. Not to Simon. He’d bared his soul to his friend, and now man of business, one night in India. And although he’d been deep in his cups, he recalled the words clearly.
“She wouldn’t choose me. I’m not good enough,” he’d said, his speech slurred from drink.
“Good God, man. She was barely seventeen. What did you expect?”
He’d had no answer then, and to that day, he still didn’t know for certain what he’d expected Honoria to do. Faced with the choice of marrying a green boy of twenty who had no prospects and a comfortable life as a marquess’s daughter, she hardly had a choice at all.
And yet, the rejection still stung.
If he had to find a wife, he would damn well make sure his bride wanted to marryhim, even if he purported to be the man of business for a duke.
“Very well,” Simon slapped him on the back. “Let’s greet your—ahem—my guests.”
Drake snorted a laugh. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
Simon ignored the sarcasm lacing Drake’s words. “I like the sound of that. Perhaps when we’re finished with this scheme of yours, I shall petition the King for a title.”
Muted conversation punctuated with the soft clink of china and ring of crystal drifted upward to the second floor. Due to the number of those attending, Frampton had directed guests to the ballroom, waiting to meet their host.
Blood pulsed in Drake’s head as he descended the staircase. Frampton stood at attention near the ballroom entrance, his gaze lifting to Drake and Simon. The unspoken question floated in his eyes, and Drake discreetly pointed a finger at Simon.
Giving an almost imperceptible nod, Frampton turned to face the ballroom. “His Grace, Pierce Henry Quincy Pendrake, the sixth Duke of Burwood and his man of business, Mr. Drake Merrick.”
With that, Drake sucked in a deep breath and stepped into the lion’s den, scanning the room for a lovely redhead with serious green eyes.
CHAPTER 3
She wasn’t there. Drake’s gaze landed on several redheads, none of whom were Honoria. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
No one paid any attention to him, instead focusing on Simon—err—the Duke of Burwood, giving Drake time to scan the crowd again—just to be sure. As they made their way around the room, going through endless introductions, he didn’t know how they would ever explain the duplicity they were perpetrating.
But in all honesty, he didn’t care. Let them blackball him, exclude him from social gatherings. Lord, even give him the cut direct, the highest of all insults among theton. For Drake, it would be a blessing instead of a curse.
He didn’t want any part of their pretentious world. Perhaps he’d show them all and marry a scullery maid. The thought made him laugh out loud.
Simon raised an eyebrow. “Something amusing, Merrick? Surely you didn’t find Lady Miranda’s comment about her niece falling into a pile of horse manure humorous?”
Drake darted a glance at the attractive brunette in front of them.
Her lips twitched. “Actually, I do find some humor in it, YourGrace. Lizzie is extremely fastidious. My brother is the same way. He insisted they scrub the poor girl several times.”
