Page 18 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
She didn’t shrug off the question but instead thought long and hard before replying, “I truly can’t see any other option—not given all that’s at stake.” Once again, her blue eyes met his. “Can you?”
“For myself, I can’t see any way around spinning our families our concocted tale. The truth would place a far more onerous weight on their shoulders, and in reality, no one—family included—will be harmed by our charade.” He pulled a wry face. “Other than you and I, Alison and, through her, Joshua are the only ones directly impacted, and in their case, the effect is very much for the better and welcomed.”
Meg thought about that, then nodded decisively. “Yes. You’re right. Our charade will certainly raise hopes and expectations in others, but no actual harm will be done when we call things off.”
He smiled, straightened, and flicked the reins to set his grays trotting more rapidly down the road. “Perhaps we should consider our charade as us entertaining the entire ton.”
She laughed and conceded the point with a dip of her head. “Sadly, I think we can be sure that the entire ton will be avidly interested.”
After a moment, she said, “As we have to speak with Christopher and Ellen first, and neither of them are fools, let’s see if our fabricated tale will withstand their scrutiny. They are, after all, the ones most aware of the time I’ve spent in this area.”
Drago murmured ready agreement.
Content enough with their plan, at least to that point, he mentally canvassed whether there was any angle they hadn’t covered. He couldn’t think of anything more he could viably do to better protect Meg Cynster. Any adverse impact that accrued to him, he probably deserved, but she had stepped in and rescued him, his favorite horses, and his rather expensive curricle, and something within him was adamantly opposed to her being ruined—indeed, harmed in any way—because of that spontaneous act of kindness. One that, albeit unintentionally, had also freed Alison Melwin to claim her own, much happier destiny.
Clearly, in all that followed, protecting Meg Cynster had to be his overriding goal, and Drago had no argument with that.
He was also curious as to how this charade of theirs would play out. Somewhat to his surprise, he was actively looking forward to the challenge of being her fiancé, pretense or not. Such eagerness stood in sharp contrast to his lack of enthusiasm over being engaged to Alison. Considering that, he could only conclude that being engaged to Meg, who as a Cynster was on equal footing with him socially and who had already displayed an independent mind and will, would be a significantly greater challenge, and being the sort of gentleman he was, meeting challenges was what life was all about.
Conquering challenges was the essence of living, at least to him.
When Meg pointed ahead, he slowed his horses and turned them onto the gravel drive leading to Walkhurst Manor.
He drew up in the forecourt before the manor steps, and a stable lad came running to take charge of the horses.
Drago tossed the lad the reins, swung down, and rounded the carriage to hand Meg down, but she hadn’t waited and had already clambered to the ground.
“Thank you, Jeb.” She smiled at the lad. “We’ll be at least an hour, possibly more.”
The lad saluted her. “I’ll take good care of these beauties, miss.” He dipped his head to Drago. “Your Grace.”
As Drago accompanied her up the steps, she muttered, “Even the stable boy recognized you, but I didn’t.”
“He’s a local. You’re not.”
The butler had already opened the door and, having seen Drago, stood straight and tall.
“Good afternoon, Pendleby.” Calmly, Meg crossed the porch. With one hand, she indicated Drago. “This is His Grace, the Duke of Wylde.”
Pendleby bowed low. “Your Grace. Welcome to Walkhurst Manor.”
Entering the front hall, Meg continued, “We were hoping to speak with my cousin and Mrs. Cynster. Are they at home?”
Pendleby assured them that his master and mistress were, indeed, in the house, and at Meg’s suggestion, she led Drago to the library, apparently Christopher Cynster’s domain, while the butler hurried to summon the lady of the house.
To say that Christopher Cynster was astonished to see Drago arrive with Meg would have been a massive understatement. Christopher was also instantly suspicious, although he hid it well, and Drago, for his part, did his level best to project an air of relaxed bonhomie appropriate to a male of their ilk in throes of delight over having secured his desired bride.
That endeavor and maintaining that façade through greeting and being greeted by Christopher’s wife proved surprisingly easy.
Once they were all seated in the comfortable armchairs, Drago largely left it to Meg to break their news, putting in his tuppence-worth only on points that required further clarification or on which she needed support. His judgment that she would be far better than he at reading her relatives’ reactions proved sound; on several occasions, she fleshed out their tale, adding a new but logical detail that patently answered a question only just forming on Christopher’s or Ellen’s lips.
All in all, Drago was impressed by how convincingly Meg spun their tale, making it ridiculously easy for him to be equally convincing in playing his prescribed part.
He’d always possessed a marked facility for reading people, especially those of his own class. Ellen, he judged, readily accepted the picture they painted, and her expressions of happiness for Meg and Drago were entirely sincere.
Christopher, on the other hand, while outwardly accepting, tended to watch Drago rather than Meg, and that with an assessing eye. Drago had to wonder if Christopher—who had once been very much of Drago’s ilk—scented something of the truth, yet when Meg concluded her explanation, establishing that she and Drago were informally betrothed and hoped to make their new status formal in the upcoming weeks, once their wider families had been informed and suitable arrangements made, Drago could have sworn he saw amusement lurking in Christopher’s eyes.
“This is all so exciting!” Ellen positively beamed. “I’m so pleased for you both.”
