Sitting in the dark of his study, Drake stared into the shadows, wondering if all the qualities Leonora had listed about Gillingham were qualities that he, Drake, did not possess. Did she not think him a decent man she would be safe with? Yet, she had come to him alone and without protection. Did that not mean that she trusted him? Had she not said so before? But if so, then why would she insist on seeing Gillingham? Was it possible that she did not know how he, Drake, felt about her? Was it possible that she felt as he did? Uncertain?
Perhaps he simply ought to address her and be honest, risk his own heart before he demanded hers?
Perhaps.
Hanging his head, Drake buried his face in his hands as he sat at his desk, waiting for dawn to come. His mind replayed countless events again and again, showing him moments he had shared with Lenora, but also moments she had shared with others, with Sedgwick and Gillingham. He also remembered the dowager countess approaching him at the Christmas house party, asking him if he believed Gillingham to be the right man for her granddaughter.
Then, Drake had not understood how important that question and its answer had been.
Now, he knew.
Indeed, it seemed that the dowager had known from the very beginning how he had felt about Leonora or how he would come to feel about her. How was it possible that she had known even then? For she had, had she not? Had she not addressed him yet again at a ball not long ago, urging him to make up his mind before it would be too late? Had she too seen the threat of Gillingham, knowing that Leonora might be tempted to accept him if he, Drake, would be foolish enough not to realize how precious and unique she was?
Yes, it had taken him a long time to admit to himself how he felt and what he wanted. Long ago, he had learned that wanting something made one vulnerable. If one did not want, one could not lose.
Yet, if one did not love, one could not be loved in return.
Long hours passed, and Drake continued to sit at his desk. Every once in a while, he would lift his head and glance out the window, finding the world as dark as it had been before. Would dawn ever come?
His thoughts grew weary, and after a while, despite the energy still humming in his bones, Drake felt his eyelids droop. Exhaustion began to settle in his mind as much as in his body, slowly robbing him of the determination to remain awake, to not waste a single moment once the new day began.
The moment the sun rose and the hour would allow it, Drake intended to call on Leonora. He would speak to her and finally find clarity. Whether she truly wanted him or not, he needed to know.
For his own peace of mind.
When his thoughts trailed off and were lost to him, Drake did not know. However, when he suddenly woke with a start, his head snapping up and his eyes flying open, bright sunlight was streaming in through the windows. He shot to his feet, swayed momentarily, his hands gripping the edges of his desk as he blinked, trying to clear his mind. Had he fallen asleep?
Long strides carried him to the window, and pulling aside the curtain, Drake saw people strolling up and down the pavement, carriages rumbling along the cobblestone.
Indeed, the day had begun without him, and Drake cursed himself for allowing it to happen. Gritting his teeth, he charged from the room, reminding himself that he needed to change and shave before he could call upon Leonora.
He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a knock on his front door. His butler, diligent as always, appeared almost instantly, allowing the visitor inside.
Looking over his shoulder, Drake paused when he saw that it was none other than Troy Beaumont, heir and only son to Lord Whickerton.
The young man handed Drake’s butler his hat, coat and gloves, stating his desire to speak to the master of the house. He had barely finished his request when his gaze rose, and their eyes collided.
Drake noted the tension in the other man’s shoulders, the way his lips thinned when he beheld him. Indeed, this was not a friendly visit, and Drake could not help but wonder why. What had happened?
Turning around, Drake headed back downstairs, offering a short greeting to Leonora’s brother, then inviting him into his study. He could almost feel the other man’s gaze burn into the back of his head as they proceeded down the corridor. When he finally closed the door and they were alone, Drake turned to his unexpected visitor. “May I offer you a drink?”
Lord Whickerton’s only son was a tall and imposing man with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes that seemed to see to the very core of Drake. Indeed, those eyes reminded him of Leonora. Unlike his sister, though, he seemed rather stoic, the look upon his face almost expressionless. Nevertheless, Drake did not doubt that anger pulsed below the calm surface of the man standing across from him. “No, thank you,” Leonora’s brother replied curtly, arms linked behind his back, a bit of a glare in his gaze as he regarded Drake with what seemed utmost disdain. “I came here today because I observed something last night.” Again, his lips thinned as he waited, his eyes watchful and challenging.
Drake drew back his shoulders, unwilling to allow himself to be intimidated. “Is that so?” Still, if Leonora’s brother had observed what Drake suspected, then the young man was well within his rights to speak to him in this manner.
The other man’s teeth ground together, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “What was she doing with you?” he demanded in a snarl. “What did you do to her?”
“I did nothing.” Yet, if her brother had seen Leonora in the state she had been in when she had fled Drake’s carriage, Drake could imagine well what conclusions Lord Whickerton’s heir had drawn. Of course, he was not wrong to have done so. After all, Drake should never have taken Leonora to the masquerade. It had been foolish, put her at risk, and it had ended in a way that had made her flee his presence.
“That I cannot believe.” With his hands still linked behind his back and his gaze almost narrowed into slits, Leonora’s brother stepped toward Drake. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. My father might believe you are simply watching over her, but I cannot help but think that you have other intentions.” He stopped, his shoulders drawing back. “Untoward intentions.” His brows rose in question, a challenge flashing in his eyes.
Although the other man’s bearing riled Drake, he could not fault him for coming to his sister’s defense. He was loyal and protective, and Drake was glad to see that her family did not condemn her for what had happened, but instead stood at her side. “You are correct,” Drake heard himself say, surprised and yet relieved to find this confession tumbling from his lips so easily. “However, while my intentions may not be completely innocent, they are not untoward. If she’ll have me,” he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, “I will marry her.”
For a moment, the other man remained perfectly still, his watchful blue eyes sweeping over Drake’s face, trying to see below, gauging the truthfulness of his words. “Is she aware of your intentions?”
Sighing, Drake shook his head. “I have yet to speak to her of the affections I hold.”
Something thoughtful came to the other man’s gaze; yet, Drake thought that his demeanor softened a bit. “Why was she with you last night?”
Drake ran a hand through his hair, knowing that his visitor would condemn him for the choice he had made. “We went to Lord Hamilton’s masquerade.”
As expected, Leonora’s brother gawked at him in utter shock before anger flashed in his eyes once more. “You must be mad! How could you take her to a place where she—?” His words broke off and his lips clamped together, a menacing glare coming to his eyes as he took a threatening step toward Drake. “How could you? Do you have no honor?”