Page 2 of Duke of Destruction
Bam!
Percy’s father slammed his fist down on his desk, making Percy jump and knock his wooden horses over with a clatter. Matthew pushed his chair back swiftly and looked down at his son, his expression shocked before morphing into regret.
“Percy,” he sighed, moving back even more until there was enough room for his son to scramble out from under the desk. “Come here, lad.”
Percy felt he should protest. He wasn’t a baby any longer, after all. But when his father gestured for him to climb up on his knee, Percy scrambled to comply.
The duke placed a large hand on his son’s shoulder. It was heavy, that hand, but it didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like solidity, like the ground beneath his feet, like the family history that terrible duke claimed they lacked.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that, my boy,” his father said. He bent his head toward Percy’s. “And I’m sorry you saw me lose my temper.”
Percy didn’t care about that; instead, he got to the heart of the matter.
“I did not like that man,” he said flatly.
His father let out a startled chuckle.
“Cut to the heart of it then, eh, Percy?” He chucked Percy under the chin. Percy batted his hand away more because he knew he was supposed to than because he truly minded.
His father chuckled again at this, though there was a note of weariness to it.
“No, me neither,” his father agreed. “But I daresay the Duke of Lightholder would say the same about us.”
“He thinks we aren’t as good as him.” The words left a sour taste in Percy’s mouth.
“He does not,” his father said, nodding grimly. “But he does not know the truth. None of us are better than another. I learned that lesson at my Da’s knee, and learned it even better when, by a fluke, I gained all of this.” He waved a hand around his grand study. “Remember that, Percy. Never think that anyone is worse than you just because they have less than you. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Papa,” Percy said.
In the back of his mind, though, he thought that there was another lesson to be learned today.
Percy and his family might not be any better than people who had less than they had.
But hewasbetter than snobs like the Duke of Lightholder. His father, without question, was better than the kind of man who sneered at someone because they couldn’t trace their history back to William the Conqueror.
And Percy had learned thetonhad long memories. Which meant that his memory would be longer.
Percy would remember the Duke of Lightholder.
He wouldn’t forget. And he wouldn’t forgive the slight against his family, either.
CHAPTER 1
“Idon’t mean to make you nervous, Ariadne,” Catherine Lightholder told her younger sister, who, truth be told, looked extremely nervous. “I just really feel you ought to maintain your distance from the Duke of Wilds.”
“I’d be happy to keep my distance from him,” Ariadne said, nodding emphatically. “How about I keep my distance all the way from London? There’s still time to turn back.”
Well. Evidently, Catherinehadmade her sister a little too nervous.
“Nonsense,” she said briskly. “I’m sure we’ll have a marvelous time.”
Ariadne’s look suggested that she knew that Catherine was lying.
“Very well,” Catherine allowed. “We’ll have an adequate time. But you will meet many eligible gentlemen. And house parties give you time to really get to know them. I think you’ll find it more to your liking than the endless spin of the Season.”
Ariadne made a face that was possibly supposed to be a smile. Catherine’s younger sister had not found her first Season to be particularly delightful, not that Catherine particularly blamed her. Catherine’s own unsuccessful Seasons had been exhausting, one ball blending into another soiree and a subsequent musicale until she was humming bad violin music in her sleep.
Being the de facto mother for her two younger siblings had been practically restful by comparison.
