Page 58 of A Duke in the Rough

After finishing their meal, Burwood left Honoria to resume her vigil by Anne’s beside, entreating her to allow either Lady Miranda or Lady Charlotte to take her place, at least for a while.

She promised she would do so soon, hoping by then Drake would have returned with Mrs. Weatherby. Night had fallen, and she stood and stretched her stiff limbs.

Hushed voices echoed from the hall, growing louder as they approached until Mrs. Weatherby rushed into the room. “Oh, my poor child. What am I to do with you?”

Drake followed, along with Andrew and Alice Weatherby.

Honoria quickly stepped away from Anne’s bedside. Bone-weary, she turned to leave.

“Lady Honoria,” Mrs. Weatherby called. “Thank you for your vigilance. His Grace told me how you refused to leave Anne’s side. I’m so grateful Mr. Merrick’s wisdom assigned you the task.”

Honoria’s gaze darted toward Drake.

Pink tinged his ears. “I merely told Mrs. Weatherby that your calm and reassuring demeanor made you the best equipped for the undertaking, and I had no doubt that you would give your all for Miss Weatherby.”

Honoria mumbled something—she wasn’t quite sure what—before scurrying from the room and praying the Weatherbys didn’t see the desperate love on her face.

In the safety of her room, she rang for Susan, thinking she’d ready herself for bed and perhaps do a little more reading. Although she’d been sitting the majority of the day, her body stiff from inactivity, she collapsed in a chair and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

At the soft knock, she called, “Enter,” surprised when Drake, not Susan, opened the door and peered inside.

Remaining outside, he shifted on his feet. “You look exhausted. Is there anything I can do for you? Have you eaten?”

She nodded. “Burwood saw to it. I’m just worried about Anne.”

His head turned toward Anne’s room. “Still no signs of her waking?”

“There was a moment, briefly, when I thought she stirred. But I worry my eyes were playing tricks.”

“As I said, you’re exhausted.”

“I could say the same for you. The journey to Lyme and back, although not terribly far, no doubt has taken a toll. Haveyoueaten?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Time was of the essence to retrieve Mrs. Weatherby.”

“Then go. Eat and rest. It will do Anne no good if you’re falling over on your feet.”

He nodded and flashed her a grim smile, the distress on his face painful to see.

It took all her strength, which admittedly had waned, not to rush to him and pull him into her arms.

He left without another word, closing the door with a softclick.

After Susan came and prepared her for bed, Honoria searched for the book she was reading, then realized in her haste to leave she left it in Anne’s room. Wrapped in her dressing gown, she padded down the hall and poked her head in. Mrs. Weatherby sat by Anne’s side and looked up when Honoria knocked.

“Forgive me, I came to retrieve a book I was reading.” Her gaze traveled to the small table by the bed, but the book was gone.

“Mr. Merrick took it when he left for the night.” Mrs. Weatherbyheld Anne’s hand, stroking her fingers as mothers do. “Such a kind man. He must care for Anne a great deal to have taken it upon himself to fetch me. Andrew told me he insisted.”

“He is the best of men, Mrs. Weatherby. Not only kind, but honorable.”

Turning her gaze from her daughter, Mrs. Weatherby said, “Do you know him well?”

“Very well. Eight years ago, he was the groom on my father’s estate.”

Flickering candlelight played tricks on Honoria’s eyes as Mrs. Weatherby turned toward her. For a moment, Honoria thought the woman’s eyes widened, a spark of recognition crossing her features. But she remained silent and turned back toward Anne.

“I shall leave you,” Honoria said, feeling like an intruder. “If you have need of me, I’m but three doors down on the left. I would be happy to sit with Anne again.”

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