Page 129 of A Duke in the Rough

Shouts echoed behind her, but she ignored them and raced from the room.

At first stunned,all Drake could do was stare as Honoria hurried from the room.

Everyone called for her to return, one of the voices sounding suspiciously like his own, but he couldn’t be certain. Everything distorted, his vision blurred; a buzzing in his ears muffled the sounds around him. The room closed in on him, squeezing him tight.

Someone shook his shoulder. “Don’t just stand there. Go after her.”

He expected Simon, but he saw Stratford—his jaw set, his eyes serious.

Gathering what remained of his wits, Drake chased after Honoria. People turned and gawked, scrambling out of his way. He bumped into Lord Middlebury and brushed past him, not bothering to apologize for the tea that splashed on the man’s waistcoat.

Out of breath, Drake finally reached her as she stepped outside the front entrance. “Wait, Honoria. I can explain.”

She spun on her heel, anger flashing in her eyes. “Explain what? You lied to me. To everyone here.”

“I had to.” He cringed at the pleading tone in his voice.

“Youhadto? Why?”

“To protect myself. How else could I be certain whomever I chose wanted me for me?”

She gaped at him. Why couldn’t she understand? Then, in one fluid motion, she reeled back and slapped him hard across his face.

His eyes watered from the sting. “Honoria, please understand.”

As she paced before him, he’d never seen her so angry. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember seeing her angry at all.

“Understand? Oh, I understand. Everything is aboutyou. Honoria should just understand and forgive, like she always does. Is that about the right of it?”

He blinked. “Yes. But why are you speaking about yourself in third person?”

“Because it’s as if I’m never my own person. I must always bend to everyone else’s wishes. Keep everyone else happy. Keep the peace. It doesn’t matter whatIwant, what I need. You’re as bad as he is.”

“Who?”

“My father. You don’t trust my feelings any more than he does.”

“But, my love?—”

She jabbed a finger in his chest. “Don’tmy loveme, sir. Admit it. You didn’t trust me with the truth. Did you really think it made a difference to me who you are? I loved the man inside.” She jabbed him again, harder. “Or at least I thought I did.”

The words hurt more than the slap or the jabs. “Youthought?”

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.” She paused, glaring. “Your Grace.”

“I’m the same man I’ve always been.”

“No.” She stamped her foot. “You arenotthe same man. The man I remember would never deliberately lie to me. That man trusted me.”

“Honoria, think. What if you’re . . .” He lowered his voice to a mere whisper, even though they were quite alone. “With my child?”

“Your child?Yourchild? Again, it’s all about you. If I find myself as such, then I will havemychild. Mine. And I will love it enough for both of us. Now, I plan to go for a ride to clear my head. Donotfollow me.” She turned and trounced off to the stables.

For several minutes, he stood speechless until she disappeared from his view. Someone grabbed his shoulder, and he spun around.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Simon said, although he didn’t grinin theI-told-you-soway Drake expected. Which only made his words hurt more.

“Shut up.”

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