Her Secondhand Groom(46)

She could barely believe her ears. Both Caroline and Emma had told her he’d never asked anyone to call him by his given name, Patrick. Marcus and the former Lady Drakely were the only ones. Ever. What had just changed between them? “Pardon?” She just didn’t believe it, she needed to hear it again.

“I’d like you to call me Drake,” he said with a smile. “For as flattered as I am that you’ve adopted your own pet name for me, I’d like to prove to you I’m not presumptuous, and I think no longer being styled as Lord Presumptuous is a good start.”

Juliet nodded numbly. He was right, how was he supposed to overcome his past mistakes with her still referring to him as presumptuous―both vocally and in her mind. She lowered her lashes in shame. Why had she been so immature as to call him that? What was it about him that stripped her of her cool reserve and logical thoughts and brought out her quick tongue and more than a few other immature tendencies? She blinked. Just when had she last referred to him that way, anyway? She couldn’t remember exactly when she’d stopped, but at some point in the past week he’d ceased to be Lord Presumptuous and had become Lord Drakely. When? Why? Wh―

“Look at me,” Drake commanded gently, stealing her from her ruminations. The fingers of his right hand lightly pressed the underside of her chin, tilting her face up so her eyes would meet his. “You weren’t wrong to call me that. I was very presumptuous in the way I did things. When I saw an opportunity to have what I wanted, I took advantage of it without a care to how it would affect anyone other than me and my daughters. That was wrong of me. I know that and that’s why I asked you to come here with me tonight, remember? I want to make things right.” He flashed her the most genuine grin she’d ever seen on his face. “So what do you say, Lady Drakely, can we start over?”

“I’d love to.”





Chapter 15





Patrick had never experienced pride as intense as what he felt seated next to Juliet at dinner. He cast a sidelong glance at her. She was as beautiful as the polished emerald pin twinkling in his cravat. A hint of a smile crossed his face. He and Juliet had more in common than he originally thought. They both had chosen to wear the same color tonight and they both hated science. He hadn’t believed her for one second when she’d said she liked to discuss the moons orbiting around Jupiter.

He took a sip of his drink and murmured a halfhearted response to Lady Townson who was seated at his right. His attention shifted to the vicar’s wife across the table who seemed to be rather chatty, too. Gads. Who knew Alex, Lord Watson, had such garrulous relatives? Patrick had no interest in their inane chatter. He was far too enamored with Juliet to care about their conversations.

Juliet set her fork down with a clink and turned to face him. “Do you think something is wrong with Emma?”

Patrick froze. It wasn’t her question that brought on this reaction, but the fact she asked him something so casual. There were no strained undertones in her voice, just ease. It was almost as if she were talking to him as a friend or trusted companion, not an enemy. His gaze drifted to where Marcus and his wife sat. Nothing looked amiss to him. “No. Why?”

She straightened her napkin. “She acted oddly when she came to see me last week, that’s all.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He cocked his head to the side and studied Emma’s face. Dash it all, Juliet was right. Something was off. “Perhaps after dinner you can talk to her.”

Juliet took a swig of her drink. “I don’t think so. I prodded her for nearly an hour the other day and she didn’t say anything.”

Patrick scratched his chin. Marcus and Emma had come to visit them earlier in the week. Of course, Emma hadn’t been interested in talking to him. She’d gone off to see Juliet and the girls while he and Marcus discussed tenants and drains and other boring nonsense that went along with having a title. They’d briefly talked about the girls, then Marcus mentioned― He snapped his fingers. “Olivia’s driving her mad.”

Juliet’s head whipped around to face him. “Pardon?”

“Right. You don’t know who I’m talking about.” He bent closer to her ear so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Marcus has a younger sister, Olivia. She’s rather...er...difficult, if you will. She found herself in a tight spot earlier this year and decided to emigrate to America.”

“Oh.”

“Well, for some reason or another, Marcus has allowed her to come back. She’s staying at Ridge Water. That’s probably what’s wrong with Emma.”