“You did say you overheard her telling Anne to watch your interactions with Lady Honoria, didn’t you? When you were spying in the orangery?”
Drake tugged on his coat sleeve, keeping his voice calm. “I wasn’t spying. I was enjoying an orange.”And later, a kiss, which was decidedly more enjoyable.
Simon batted away Drake’s objection. “Technicalities. Surely, you haven’t forgotten our conversation from this afternoon already?” He tugged the cuffs down on his superfine evening coat. “Nevertheless, I simply informed the ice queen that when it came to you and Lady Honoria, she and I were in full agreement. I suggested she cease drawing attention to us with her childish behavior, thereby allowing Miss Weatherby to witness the affection you and Lady Honoria clearly have for each other.”
He poked Drake in the chest. “Whichyouneed to be demonstrating. You and Honoria have the supper dance, so even if Anne can’t observe you two together then, she surely will when Honoria is at your side during supper. I’ll try to arrange the seating so Anne’s nearby with a good view.”
“How will you do that if you don’t know who her partner is before supper?”
Simon gaped at Drake as if he’d lost his mind. “Because I’m the duke, and I can usurp any other gentleman’s claim to a lady.”
“Need I remind you that in reality, you arenotthe duke and such behavior reflects poorly on me who is?”
“But that’s the beauty of it, don’t you see? They will be so relieved to find the well-behaved Mr. Merrick is the actual duke they’ll forget you were raised as a commoner.”
Drake barked a laugh.
“Nevertheless, Anne shall sit by me, and you and Honoria will be nearby. It will be perfect.” Simon glared. “As long as you do your part. I want love to be clear on your face. Think about what it would be like to kiss her.”
Heat burned Drake’s ears. That would be an easy task. He’d only have to think back on their encounter in the orangery earlier that day.
“Good grief, man. I said kissing, not undressing her. Show us love, not lust.”
“Iwasthinking about kissing.”
Shaking his head, Simon leaned in and whispered, “Are you telling me you still haven’t bedded a woman?”
“That’s none of your concern. Now, Lady Miranda is approaching. She’s either going to claim you or me as a dance partner, so look nonchalant.”
After Miranda claimed Simon as partner for the next set, Drake wandered to the refreshment table, grateful no one had claimed him as partner. As he sipped the overly sweet ratafia—truly, why did thetoninsist on serving such a drink at these gatherings—he watched the couples on the dance floor.
Simon flirted with Lady Miranda, no doubt pleased his toes had been spared from Lady Charlotte’s wrath. Honoria partnered with Andrew Weatherby, which eased Drake’s nerves.
He thought back to Simon’s accusation, and heat rushed to his face again. Fully admitting he was a rarity among men, Drake had firmly believed it was unfair for a woman to remain untouched until marriage while men could gallivant about at will.
No, when he married, he could assure his wife that she was the only one with whom he shared himself. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that no other woman was Honoria.
Or so he tried to convince himself.
“Deep in thought?” His mother’s soft voice ended the debate. “You look flushed. Drink your ratafia.”
He scrunched his nose. “This stuff is an abomination.”
Her delicate brows lifted. “But you like sweet things.”
Unbidden, his gaze traveled to Honoria. “Not too sweet.”
As Drake's mind latched onto the sweetness of Honoria’s lips, Lord Harcourt approached and sketched an elegant bow. “Mrs. Merrick. It’s good to see you again. I haven’t had an opportunity to speak with you since your arrival. My condolences regarding your husband. He was a fine man.” Harcourt inclined his head toward Drake. “I must say, it wasa pleasant surprise to discover your son was working for the new duke.”
“It’s good to have a familiar, friendly face among the duke’s guests,” Drake said.
“Ah, but I’m not the only one. There’s Stratford and his family.”
“Familiar, yes. Friendly is questionable,” Drake muttered.
Apparently, the baron’s hearing was unimpaired. He hitched a brown eyebrow.
How much did Harcourt know about what transpired eight years ago?
