Page 16 of Duke of Destruction
Ariadne scrunched up her nose. “Sorry. I just… What is he so upset about? Do you know him?”
“Not at all,” Catherine said, a little too sharply. When Ariadne’s brows rose in surprise, Catherine forced herself to soften her tone.
“No, I don’t know him,” she said. “But he seems to have some objection to our family. I think perhaps a political matter?”
Ariadne had been blessed with a charming overabundance of family loyalty; Catherine had always wondered if this was because Ariadne had enjoyed limited interactions with some of the more challenging members of the family. Grandfather Cornelius had been a great man, after all, with all the personal foibles that came from such greatness. Ariadne hadn’t ever known their grandfather, as he’d died before her birth.
And while Ariadne had been raised by Catherine, Catherine had been raised by their mother, the dowager duchess. The differences between the two were…palpable.
“How rude!” Ariadne seethed. “Xander is a very fine politician—the finest in England, I’d wager!”
Catherine loved her brother, but this was patently untrue. There were men who made their whole lives in politics, and Xander was very much not one of them.
“There’s no need to fuss,” Catherine soothed, reaching out to fix an errant hairpin in her sister’s coiffure. Ariadne always had some detail of her appearance amiss, no matter her maid’s best efforts. Catherine suspected that Ariadne did it on purpose to avoid too much attention from others.
“It sounds like thereisa need to fuss,” Ariadne countered mutinously.
“No.” Catherine was calm but firm. “He’s just doing it to be difficult. Don’t give him any attention, and the problem will go away.”
She would make sure if it…even if it meant putting herself back into the duke’s beguiling orbit.
“Jesus Christ, Percy.”
Percy didn’t even turn around. He took a sip of his drink. David always had hidden the good liquor away in his study, so when Percy had found himself in dire need of a drink, he’d stolen away.
It was merely a nice bonus that this kept him away from the thrum and bustle of the party.
Andher.
He could notbelievethat he’d kissed her. It was…unthinkable. Irrational! Nonsensical!
David came around to the front of Percy’s armchair, a disapproving look on his face. When Percy ignored this, too, David stole his brandy and downed it in a single gulp.
“Hey!” Percy objected. “I was drinking that!”
“Oh, so youcantalk,” David observed with an arched brow as he sank into the chair opposite his friend. “And here I was starting to think that all you knew how to do was skulk and stare and linger like some sort of malevolent ghost.”
“I feel these insults are uncalled for,” Percy said tersely.
“Do you?” David challenged. “Do you really?”
“Yes, I do,” said Percy, who didn’t. He had been staring. He would even admit to skulking a little. The bit about the ghost was perhaps going a bit far, but he took David’s point.
He was not behaving in a gentlemanly manner.
And that was unlike him. It was, more to the point, counterproductive. It was a thousand steps back along the path that he’d been so forcefully climbing ever since he’d inherited his seat some ten years prior.
Ten years. It had taken a full decade, but he had, through dint of effort alone, elevated the Seaton name so that nobody ever thought to look down on his title merely because of the humble birth of its previous duke. Their coffers hadn’t been empty, but he’d bolstered them, proving himself an adept businessman. He dutifully maintained his seat in Parliament, showing up to votes far more regularly than the average peer, building a reputation as a steady-minded and even-keeled man.
And, true, the Tories hated him, but aside from that, he was generally well-liked, if not particularly close with anyone in thetonaside from David, whom he had met several years prior.
David had, for reasons Percy still didn’t quite understand, decided they were going to be friends. He hadn’t exactly given Percy much say in the matter.
But the friendship had been good—both personally and in Percy’s quest to elevate his family name.
Or, rather, it had been gooduntil now.
David was pinning him with alook.
