Page 57 of A Duke in the Rough

Her friend, Mrs. Thompson, watched in silence, her hand supporting Mrs. Weatherby’s arm.

“It’s Anne,” she told her friend. “She’s had a fall.” She turned toward Drake. “How did it happen?”

“She was thrown from a horse.”

Mrs. Weatherby swayed, and Drake reached out to steady her. “I must go to her.”

As they hurried back to Mrs. Thompson’s, Drake offered his arm, filling them in on some of the details. “I came on horseback in order to travel more expeditiously, but I will hire a carriage for you, madam.”

“There is no need, sir,” Mrs. Thompson said. “You may borrow mine and my driver.”

Once the carriage was readied and Mrs. Weatherby made her goodbyes to her friend, Drake tied Major to the back and helped Anne’s mother inside. He’d debated riding Major back, but she appeared to want the company.

“Tell me the truth about what happened, Mr. Merrick. I suspect you are omitting some information.”

Drake’s throat tightened as he prepared his confession. “Fallen trees blocked the way, and although I begged Miss Weatherby to go around, she insisted on trying to jump.” He turned away to avoid seeing the anger in Mrs. Weatherby’s eyes. “It’s my fault.”

“How could this be your fault, sir? I know my daughter, and the moment you tell hernotto do something, that is precisely what shewilldo. Please cease from condemning yourself.”

If only he could. He’d replayed the horrendous events over and over in his mind. He should never have left Anne’s side to attend to Victor. He should have never said those careless words, encouraging her to act so recklessly to impress him.

Unable to do anything at the moment for Anne, Drake sought to distract her mother during the three-hour journey. “Tell me more about Anne. What was she like as a girl?”

As Mrs. Weatherby recounted tales of Anne’s youth, Drake allowed himself to drift into a state of acceptance. One thing was certain, itwould appear life with Anne would not be boring. He wasn’t certain his nerves would survive.

But if Anne’s heart was set on marrying a title, and she believed his ruse, he might yet wiggle out of it.

Although the Weatherbys weren’t titled, it didn’t mean Anne didn’t hold aspirations. “May I ask a question?” When she nodded, he proceeded. “Do you place great store on Miss Weatherby making a titled match?”

“The only thing I wish for my children is their happiness. My late husband Ambrose and I longed for a daughter. There are fifteen years between Andrew and Anne, yet only two between Andrew and Arthur, my second eldest. We had almost given up hope. I fear we may have overindulged Anne.”

Drake stopped her. “Forgive me, but everyone’s name starts with A?”

Even in the dire circumstances, she gave a tiny laugh. “Yes. In fact, when Andrew met Alice, he took it as a sign. That and his heart left him the moment he laid eyes on her. Alice’s parents are merchants.”

“So she’s told me. I planned to purchase some spices from them.”

She nodded. “But she’s also the great-niece of the Dowager Countess Brakefield. Neither mattered to Andrew or to his father and me.”

“Is Arthur married?”

“He is. His wife’s name is Lavinia. Her father is a baronet.”

“Ah. No A?”

“No, but my grandson is Austin. However, Andrew and Alice have broken the pattern. Their twin girls are Indira and Eleanor. They said they didn’t want them to be forced to find husbands named Alphonse or Aloysius. And I suspect Anne cares little about marrying a title or the letter his name begins with.” Mrs. Weatherby studied him. “You seem to have a special interest in my daughter, sir. Might I presume that your concern stems from more than a sense of duty?”

How could he answer truthfully yet not arouse suspicion of his motives if he proposed to Anne? “Miss Weatherby’s recovery and happiness are paramount to me, madam.”

Let her deduce what she would from that statement, but it seemed to appease her.

“My daughter is indeed fortunate to have such a gallant champion.”

Perhaps a future as part of the Weatherby family would not be so terrible.

At least they liked him.

CHAPTER 17

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