He cast a surreptitious glance toward Honoria, then laughed—perhaps a bit too loudly. “You flatter me, Miss Whyte.”
“Nonsense.” She turned her attention to Simon. “But perhaps that is your strategy, Your Grace. Another exceptionally handsome man to pull some attention away from yourself?” She lightly tapped Simon with the fan. “Are you shy, Your Grace?”
At that, Drake gave a genuine laugh. “Si—”Good grief.“Shy? Burwood’s never been shy his entire life.” He watched Miss Whyte’s face, relieved when his slip didn’t register.
“Not that you’ve known me my whole life, Merrick.” Simon shot him a warning glance. “You’ve found me out, Miss Whyte. In fact, I was quite shy as a lad, especially around beautiful women.”
Drake refrained from rolling his eyes. It would totally ruin his pretense of showing interest. Miss Whyte was attractive, no doubt. Her blond hair and blue eyes met the much acclaimed features of young women—at least according to the man he hired to tutor both him and Simon in the ways of theton. According to Mr. Burbridge, those ofgood societyconsidered red hair and frecklesinferior.
Nothing about Honoria seemed inferior to him. As Miss Whyte droned on about some nonsense, Drake’s mind reeled back to the past. Although he and Honoria had practically grown up together, he recalled the day he knew he loved her as clearly as though it had happened moments ago.
He’d been so nervous around her at first. The daughter of a marquess had no business with the son of her father’s steward. Yet Honoria loved to ride, and her father encouraged the pastime.
“My father says if nothing else, it gets my nose out of a book,” she’d told Drake as he prepared her horse.
Drake laughed at that. “I love to read as well, but I can never get my hands on enough books.”
“Allow me to bring you some from our library.”
“That would be wonderful. Will you bring your favorites? Then we can discuss them.” Feeling emboldened, he winked. “As we ride, of course.”
A pretty blush covered her cheeks, but she nodded. As they rode along in the sunshine, an errant thought crossed his mind that he wanted to kiss each one of the freckles dotting the bridge of her nose, and his own blush scalded his face.
She glanced his way. “Oh, dear. You should have worn a hat. Your face is becoming red from the sun.”
His face heated even more.
“Perhaps we should turn back?—”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, turning away.
She was so kind. So considerate. Not only with him, but others as well. When they stopped by the river to water the horses, he noticed some forget-me-nots on the bank, so he dismounted to pick them for her, only to be pushed into the river by her horse.
Breeches soaked, flowers drooping, he looked up at her—mortified. So much for his gallant gesture for the fair Honoria.
Yet her kind expression told him she was mortifiedforhim rather thanathis clumsiness. He held up the flowers and said something ridiculous about the flowers needing a drink.
And she had laughed. Again, notathim.Withhim. Until tears formed in her eyes. She joined him in the water, splashing water on both of them. They laughed like the children they were.
She took the flowers from him and placed a kiss on his cheek. So sweet. So tender.
Then they stretched out in the warm sun to dry off, talking of books and music and all the things they both loved. Like one mind, they understood each other to the point that words weren’t necessary.
His heart left him that day. But wonder of wonders, she gave him hers.
Only to rip it away when she rejected him.
But as he feigned interest in Miss Lydia Whyte, he glanced over once more and knew for certain. Lady Honoria Bell still held his heart.
CHAPTER 4
The ballroom became suffocating as Honoria tried desperately not to watch Drake fawning over every other unmarried woman in the room. A possessive jealousy seared her veins.
But he wasn’t hers.
Not any longer.
She’d given up any claim to his heart eight years ago when she told him she wouldn’t marry him, and clearly he hadn’t forgiven her.
