Page 22 of Duke of Destruction
She flinched away from him even as she tried to blink the wet hair out of her eyes—which, were he in a more rational state, he might have considered fair enough, as he’d shouted directly at her ear.
“I—what? I fell,” she sputtered.
“You weren’t swimming!” He was still yelling.
“I don’t know how to swim!” Now, she was yelling, too.
He got them close enough to the shore, which was several yards down the curve of the lake from where Lady Catherine had toppled in, that he could stand. He held on to her a little while longer, until he was certain that she’d be able to stand, too, then held on a little bit longer. Just to be safe.
She had just fallen into a lake despite not being able to swim. She couldn’t be trusted on landorin the water.
“Don’t know how to swim,” he muttered as he guided her through the sludgy bottom of the lake until her waist, hips, and shins were all above the surface. “Playing wretched Pall Mall on a cliffside and she doesn’t know how to swim.”
First shouting, now swearing. He was swearing in front of a lady.
“Stop shouting at me!” Lady Catherine shouted.
Well. At least they were a good pair.
He pushedthatthought aside as soon as he’d had it. It was doubtless a mere aftereffect of being nearly drowned.
By the time they were fully out of the water—which was the moment that Percy decided it was acceptable to let Catherine go, and not a moment sooner, now that he knew that the little pestcould not swim—a small crowd had rushed over to join them, headed by David and Lady Catherine’s little sister, who looked pale and alarmed.
He saw the moment Lady Catherine registered this, for she immediately squared her shoulders, pushed the last of her wet hair out of her face, and crossed to her sister.
“I’m fine, Ari,” she soothed. “I’m really just fine. Embarrassed, but unharmed.”
Lady Ariadne patted her sister’s cheeks, shoulders, and arms as if searching for any injury that might gainsay this claim. When she found nothing, her expression went from terrified to sardonic.
“No more Pall Mall, Kitty,” she said. “Please.”
Lady Catherine looked chagrined. “What do they say about pride that goeth before the fall?” She gestured back at the little overhang. From this angle, it didn’t look very high. Strange, given that it had felt like the most towering clifftop when Percy had been watching Lady Catherine slip over the edge. “Well, that was the fall.”
With the kind of huffed little chuckle that came from extraordinary relief, Lady Ariadne wrapped her arms around her sister, entirely heedless of how this got her gown wet, too. Percy tried to see this as the excesses of the wealthy, of those who always knew a new gown was a snap of the fingers away, but all he could see in it was sisterly love.
“And you, Seaton?” David’s quiet query startled Percy and—damn it all—he realized he’d been staring again. “Are you well?”
“Completely fine,” he confirmed—and then, “Ow!” when David cuffed him mercilessly on the head.
“That’s for diving headfirst into water when you don’t know how deep it is,” his friend chided. “Consider it a reminder of what would have happened to your skull at much greater force if you’d been just a bit off in your descent. The water isn’t so deep here.”
“It was deep enough that it was over Ca—Lady Catherine’s head,” he pointed out, hoping David didn’t notice his slip. Maybe it was the common blood that the Lightholders so derided in him, but Percy felt that once you rescued someone from a near-drowning, it seemed foolish to use their titles. But politeness was what it was. “And she’s not a short woman.”
“Yes, you would have noticed that,” David grumbled, clearly still a bit shaken with worry. “Next time, just jump feet first, would you? It will ruin my reputation as a host if a duke dies at my party.”
The joke was a bit half-hearted, a cover for genuine concern.
“Aye, I’ll do that,” Percy promised. Despite himself, he was touched that David cared. “Though perhaps we’re better off just hoping it doesn’t happen again?”
David looked up at the sky. “You heard him, Lord. He’s a wise man. Let’s go with his suggestion.”
Percy chuckled a bit, then squared his shoulders as Lady Catherine turned to face him. It did not escape him that this was the same thing she’d done for her sister. They’d both tried to make themselves seem as strong and unflappable as possible.
She offered him a sheepish smile.
“I must thank you, Your Grace,” she said, bobbing a curtsey. He hated it. He found her politeness to be the most hideous thing in the world. He wished she was shouting at him again. “Without your swift aid, I shudder to think what might have befallen me.”
“Of course,” he said stiffly. She was talking to him like he was some fop she’d met on the dance floor at one of her silly parties. He loathed it.
