Page 101 of Touch Me

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The dowager's voice came out low, as if she were whispering to herself. Thea could barely make out the words. Who could have upset Lady Boyle so? Was the duke here? Would he be furious his grandson had married a woman in trade?

Though feeling like a craven coward, Thea did not wish to turn around and face the wrath of Drake's family. Instead she stepped nearer to her husband, seeking the security of his presence. He put his hand out to steady her, and she felt her heart constrict.

He looked into her eyes, his filled with concern. "It's going to be all right, sweetheart."

Rather than reassuring her, his words filled her with dread. Why hadn't he told her his family would be unhappy? He had implied that they would be thrilled at his choice in wife. Perhaps Lady Boyle was the only unconventional one among them.

Refusing to be intimidated by an unseen menace, Thea turned to face the newcomer.

And nearly fainted.

She heard a roaring in her ears, so could not make out the words exchanged between the man and Lady Boyle. All warmth drained from her body, and she clutched the air desperately behind her, seeking the solid form of her husband. His hand grasped her own, and some warmth seeped back into her. He pulled her near until she was standing close enough to feel the heat radiate from his body. Still, she did not speak. She couldn't.

The man was rather handsome in a cold sort of way. His black hair was sprinkled with gray, and there were lines around his mouth and eyes. From frowning or laughing? His eyes held polite interest and something else, annoyance maybe, as he spoke to Lady Boyle.

"I've come to be introduced to the guests of honor." He looked around the room with slight disapproval. His gaze had not yet settled on Thea and Drake. "Lady Upworth has gone to a tremendous amount of expense and trouble for Mr. Drake and his new wife. I thought I should meet them."

Lady Boyle nodded, still looking a bit peaked in Thea's opinion. "Yes, of course."

She turned toward Thea and Drake. "May I present my nephew, Pierson Drake, and his wife, Althea Drake?"

The man's cold gray eyes settled on Drake first as he offered his hand in greeting. Then they slid to Thea and he froze. His eyes grew wide, and for a moment all coldness left his face to be replaced with disbelief.

Did he recognize her? How could he? But she would know him anywhere. Lady Upworth had sent coun

tless sketches of him over the years. They were the only ones that Thea had never thanked her for, had never commented on.

Because she truly had no desire to know her father.

As he looked at her, his face lost all color. His eyes filled with fear and something that looked like longing.

His voice came out a croaked whisper. "Anna? Could it be you?"

"Anna Selwyn is dead." The words dropped like heavy, jagged stones from her lips.

The man, her father, blanched. "Yes, of course. She died after the birth of our son." The words came out as if memorized and uttered many times, lifeless and without meaning.

She refused to accept the lie. "On the contrary. She died several years ago from a fever that often kills Europeans in the tropics. She died with her son's name on her lips."

Her father—but she refused to think of him thus—Langley's knees buckled and he grasped blindly at a nearby table for support. "I…" His eyes burned with intensity. "You knew her?"

"Yes, I knew her."

His mouth opened again, but nothing came out.

Lady Boyle intervened. "I believe this conversation would be better conducted in a more private location." Although her eyes were filled with understanding, there was steel in her voice.

Drake placed his arm around Thea, pulling her into his side. "Perhaps later. It is time my wife and I left."

Thea did not resist as he led her from the room.

"Wait." Langley's voice was desperate. "I need to talk to you, Mrs. Drake. When can I call upon you?"

She did not turn around. She couldn't.

Drake answered for her. "If my wife wishes to speak with you, she will send word."

His voice did not invite further comment and Langley subsided. Or at least she assumed he had. He made no more attempt to prevent her and Drake from leaving.


Tags: Lucy Monroe Historical