Page 51 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Drago grinned. “My money’s on Warley to evade them all. He has, after all, been doing that successfully for decades.”
Soon after, they met Denton, who was also looking a trifle hunted. In response to Drago’s questioning look, Denton assured Drago and Meg, too, “I’ve just dropped in to keep Mama happy. I’m only staying for half an hour.”
“I see.” Laughing, Meg engaged Denton in a discussion of how he currently spent his days.
Drago watched with both approval and appreciation; if Meg were to become his duchess, she would need to get to know Denton better, and her questioning was of the ilk that his brother didn’t truly notice that he was, albeit subtly, being interrogated.
By the time they parted from Denton, Drago suspected that Meg now knew more than his mother did about Denton’s current life. His brother had been more relaxed with Meg, presumably through having moved in similar circles in their youth.
For her part, Meg was relieved that both Warley and Denton seemed entirely untroubled by the prospect of her becoming Drago’s duchess. Indeed, Denton had been encouraging, more so than she’d hoped.
They continued to stroll and chat. At one point, when she was engaged by several unmarried ladies of her own age and Drago had turned to speak with a gentleman acquaintance, from the corner of her eye, she saw Warley sidle up to Drago and mention something, rather surreptitiously. From Drago’s expression, she couldn’t guess what manner of comment Warley had made, but after Drago gave a small nod, his uncle vanished into the crowd, and Drago turned to rejoin her.
She farewelled the ladies, and together, she and Drago moved on.
They’d gone barely a yard through the dense crowd when George Bisley and Harry Ferndale stepped into their path, with Thomas Hayden hovering behind.
“What a crush!” Harry exclaimed.
“At least it gives us some cover.” George grasped Meg’s proffered hand and bowed over it.
When it came their turn, Harry and Thomas did the same.
“We guessed you’d be here,” George said. “Thought you might like some support.”
Meg smiled, and Drago, in apparent seriousness, thanked them sincerely.
“Yes, well.” Like George, Harry kept glancing nervously around. “You are the first of us to fall, so to speak. Seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Even if,” Thomas added, “it makes us as nervous as skittish horses.”
Meg laughed. “Perhaps if we talk earnestly, you’ll remain unmolested.”
“We can try,” George said. “Who knows? That might work, at least for a little while.”
Entirely willing, Meg asked how they had all met and by dint of successive questions teased a recounting of their earlier lives from them. Her questions jogged their memories, and soon the four were exchanging reminiscences—which didn’t always match—of incidents at Eton and Oxford and, even more entertaining, of when they had been on shared holidays at Wylde Court or at the estate of Harry’s uncle, the Marquess of Tavistock, or at George’s home in Leicestershire.
Meg noted that they didn’t mention sharing holidays at Thomas’s home, but recalling Drago’s comment about Thomas’s father’s impecunious bent, she thought better of asking if they ever had.
Indeed, while in response to her questions, George and Harry opened their budgets without reservation, she met with far less success in inducing Thomas to share much of his thoughts.
Then the musicians started up again, and George, Harry, and Thomas took fright at the prospect of Meg and Drago taking to the floor and leaving the three of them exposed. All three stated their intention of leaving and made their farewells, then quickly tacked away through the crowd.
Smiling, Meg allowed Drago to lead her to the clearing floor and draw her into his arms. As they started whirling in practiced fashion, smiling at the now-familiar sensation of floating on air, Meg realized that both George and Harry had, indeed, been openly encouraging regarding her and Drago marrying, while Thomas…hadn’t been. He hadn’t been discouraging, either, or not openly so, but his expression, like Drago’s, was difficult to read. She’d got the impression that Thomas had been standing back, watching, as if waiting to see how she and Drago got along.
Given Thomas’s background—or his background as she assumed it might be—perhaps he was understandably more cautious over encouraging their match.
Of course, as far as the three knew…
She refocused on Drago, who, smiling slightly, was staring into her face. “Have you told Harry, George, and Thomas that we’ve changed our tack?”
Drago met her eyes and shook his head. “Not yet, but you’ve already won over George and Harry. They’ve all but told me that I should marry you. Thomas, admittedly, is rather more reserved, but that’s just Thomas.”
“Ah. I see.” Meg smiled more widely. “So even your friends can see the benefits of us turning what began as a necessary charade into our reality.”
Drago smiled, too, stepped out, and swept her into a vigorous turn. “Apparently so. Even they. Along with the rest of the ton.”
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